#Constantly have fic ideas for them running through my head

[just-a-fangirl7]

Banking everything on Present Mic and Eraserhead being canonically gay at some point.

S5E19 has my whole heart and I'm only like 7 minutes in.

Like, Mic's lil, "Aizawa... Calm down, bro..." When they go to see Kurojiri, the way he holds Aizawa's shoulder and Aizawa can feel him shaking because they are both filled with nothing but anxiety.

[sukunas-wife]

i just wanna start and say that i luvvv ur blog and the dad sukuna fics are giving me life (🙏🏾). plsss could i ask 4 a scenario of yuuji being a menace 4 once. like 1 of the things he and sukuna can agree on is that no one touches or speaks 2 momma without permission, but a new servant doesn't know that?

🤔 I see what’s going on you want Yuji to bite people well he NOT KINDA BRAT, he latches on and shakes his head like a feral dog 😭😭 grrr

Idk what I was doing and where my plot came from I think I just pulled it out the air 😭

“Lady Y/n!” You turned looking over at the eunuch who had been persistently following you all week. The poor young man according to the servants and your hand maids had grown “quite fond” of you. You looked over at Yuji, he had long run into the garden, sighing when your hand maids were stuck between going after Yuji or staying by your side. You waved them off when the eunuch got closer, “Ah, feels like I’ve been seeing you a lot lately. Especially outside the Palace walls.” You looked past him and he smiled, eyes becoming lidded. Silence filled the space and you gave him a sympathetic smile, “Did you need something or did you just run all this way to greet me Kamo?” You risked your arms into your sleeves eyeing the way he fidgeted with his hands. “I guess I came here just to greet you Lady Y/n..” he looked away, the blush on his cheeks was proof enough your ladies in waiting were right… Before you could dismiss him he spoke up with a hopeful look, “would you mind if I stood by your side for today Lady Y/n?” As much as you hated the idea of letting someone who’s not your husband or son be by your side all day, you had to think about it. You should say no because it would look bad if anyone were to notice him constantly at your side. Second, you don’t want to make a bad impression on Sukuna, he was your husband and you didn’t want to make him believe the rumours running around his own Palace.

“I appreciate your eagerness but the answer is no. I’m spending today with Yuji and I’m not allowing anything to take away from his time.” You dismissed him with a wave and he still smiled, “It’s alright, thank you Lady y/n. Maybe I can join you for the next time you feel like taking a walk in the garden.” You had already turned away but he held out hope, “Thank you for the offer Kamo but you really should get back to work.” You look over your shoulder at him with a faint smile, he nodded and ran off back to place and into the Curses den. The poor kid didn’t see Lord Sukuna lurking about watching the entire scene unfold. Sukun watched as you smiled over your shoulder in his general direction making his chest swell with pride, he knew he didn’t have to worry about you. It was that fool of a eunuch who would need to be taught his place.

————-

Yuji was by your side pulling your sleeve’s, “cmmooonnn mooomm Wanna goooooo” he ended up falling and lying on the floor looking up at you. He was spread out and he huffed. “I don’t want that eunuch to come he talks too mucchhhaaaahhh” his whine turned into a scream while he shook his head back and forth on the ground, “Yuji baby get up your gonna dirty.” You tried to help him up and he just laid limp in your hold, “Are we leaving now?”

“Yes we can go before Kamo shows up if you really don’t like him THAT much.” Yuji laid there while you tried to stand him up before he got “Mkay let’s go.” Yuji took your hand guiding you to the door and right when he opened it there was the voice that made him squint over his shoulder, “NO! GO AWAY KAMO!” You were amused how Yuji stuck his tongue out at the Eunuch while trying to drag you through the door into the garden again. You didn’t fight him and let him drag you doing your best to keep up. When he finally stopped, Yuji looked around, even jumping to look over a bush, “daddy doesn’t like him, he says he tried to talk to you toooo much.” He was waving his hands around exaggerating his point, “he said next time he tried to get close to take you away or fight him!” You watch as Yuji looked up at you holding little fists, his little round face was full of determination. You could help but kneel and place your hand on his head running it over the side of his face cupping his cheek. “Yuji you don’t have to worry about fighting that poor eunuch, there is nothing I would choose over you or Ryomen.”

He shook his head back and forth vigorously “nuh uh! Daddy said you’d say that and I shouldn’t listen!” You hugged Yuji, confusing him “awww my little Yu.” He leaned against you taking in your hug. “What else did daddy tell you, hm?”

———

There you sat with your husband, dressed up in vibrant Junihitoe with over 20 layers. Sukuna wore his usual attire, you were holding onto one of his arms listening to him talk about how Yuji had done well in his own training and along those lines. It was well into spring when the days were getting hotter and becoming longer summer days. Sukuna watched how you’d fan yourself closing your eyes for a brief moment of relief before leaning your head on his arm. He could feel your heat and there was no doubt in his mind it was all those layers in your silly little robes. He had a great idea, slowly he led you inside where you found relief out of the sun but those layers were still clinging to you in uncomfortable ways. When you were going to pull away Sukuna pulled you back into his side leaning down to whisper into your ear, “Now let’s get you out of those robes, your skins burning like all those nights I spent memorising every curve of your body.” The flush on your face flared up when you held onto him tighter, burying your face in his arm, “Ryomen!” You tried to scold him while he led you to the large bathing room. He took you in kissing you once the door was closed, he spared no time in stripping himself taking a step into the pool of cold water. A second step his hands were on your waist while you held his face kissing him, he mumbled against your lips “Let’s get these off of you.” He pressed his lips against your neck grazing you with his teeth, you tried to hold in your giggles when his hands opened your robes, letting his hands run over your sides while he bit into your skin sucking and marking you with a bright red mark, grazing his teeth over your skin when he made it to your chest. Your laughed and playful whispers could be heard outside the room and it left nothing to the imagination of what could be happening. This was a sign most servants took as “Don’t interrupt Lord Sukuna and Lady Y/n.” All except for one who walked in immediately after knocking. Kamo.. he was damn lucky Sukuna was just starting to slide your robes off your shoulders, you would’ve tried to push yourself away from Sukuna but he was your husband, what did you have to hide. Sukuna was too proud of his own physique to even think about maybe committing some form of decency. There you stood in his tight hold pulling you closer to the water, he rested his chin on your shoulder looking past you right at Kamo. He was smug about his situation, staring right at the eunuch, “What is it Kamo.” He couldn’t say anything, just staring at the both of you trying to think of something before Ryomen became annoyed, “I’ve killed better people for less,” he stood up, a set of arms still holding your waist and robes in place, there was no missing that Ryomen was in fact a man gifted not once but twice. He took that to his advantage when he noticed Kamo take a second look after he stepped from around you, “Speak now or lose your life, you better have a damn good reason for interrupting MY time with MY WIFE.” Just as Kamo was going to speak up, Yuji came running “Daddy DADDDY DADDY!” He stopped seeing his dad standing there in his full glory, “naked naked naked!” He closed his eyes when he pointed and laughed at his dad who just dead panned before turning to the eunuch, “Stop staring at my wife before you lose your living privileges and bring some towels.” He sent Kamo off and Yuji was still laughing behind his hand seeing his dad naked. You closed your robes, “Now that you're here Yuji you do need a bath.” You snatched him up before he could run out the door, Sukuna rolled his eyes “Great interrupted by the Eunuch and now that he’s gone you invite the brat.” Sukuna stared unamused as Yuji stripped jumping into the water, “‘m a fish”

———

It was a few days later when you were talking to one of your ladies in waiting and Yuji saw it. The way Kamo approached you reaching out to touch you to get your attention. He went running and screaming, the three of you turned to look at him, each of you confused until you noticed Yuji wasn’t running at you. He was running at Kamo who was about to touch you without your permission. It happens in slow motion how he jumped, little legs wrapping around his knee, the way his hands were clinging to the eunuch. He opened his mouth wide, threw his head back and made an exaggerated biting sound before he latched onto Kamo’s side. Your lady in waiting was shocked and you were just as speechless watching the eunuch try to pull Yuji off only for him to bite harder. Through the yells and little growls you could hear “don toufch mhh mhmmy” and he went back to shaking his head left and right.

Finally you came to your senses and tried to help take Yuji off of him, just as you took hold of Yuji Kamo winced and managed to hit you. Yuji let go and gasped very dramatically, he slipped out of your hands when your lady in waiting ran over to you to see if you were okay. You stood up holding your cheek staring at Kamo, as much as you’d like to take blame for Yuji biting him he shouldn’t have been trying to touch in the first place. You saw Yuji with his fists up “YOU HIT MY MOMMY” he swung hitting Kamo right in his manhood.

It didn’t take long for the word to spread, before you knew it Sukuna had you sitting in your seperate room. Yuji was going to follow his dad out of the room until he gave him a silent look, making him turn around and run back to you. He stood in front of you laying his chest and arms on your lap looking up at you with a small smile, “you're so pretty mommy.”

You laughed at his words shaking your head with a smile, “Aw my little prince Yuji here to make me feel better hm?” He stretched his arms up so you’d pull him into your lap. You did and he smiled at his reflection, you were sitting in front of the vanity in your room. He pouted looking up at you, “you okay?” He started to bite his finger when you looked down at him with teary eyes, you couldn’t help but feel like it was your fault in some way. “Yeah it’s just been a long day Yu.”

He hummed, swinging his legs and falling limp in your arms, “daddy said he’s gonna fix him..” you were confused there was no doubt in your mind Ryomen would kill the man on sight once he faced him.

Time passed to the point that both of you got bored of waiting and ended up on the bed listening to Yuji ramble about how he was so cool and how could beat Sukuna in a fight. One day he was gonna have his own big temple and you could live with him because there wouldn’t be nasty old eunuchs running around.

“Hey brat, that's my wife, she's not going with you to your house or anywhere at all.” Yuji was quick to jump up and run over when you slowly sat up on the bed, “Dad!” Sukuna grabbed him by the back of his shirt pulling him up and onto his shoulder giving him a little bag, Yuji opened it, looked in and closed it throwing it on the floor making a loud “eeeewww”

Sukuna looked at you, you looked back at him, he didn’t seem too happy. He walked over to you bringing his hand up, you didn’t look away when he took your face in his hand shaking his head.

“I’m alright Ryo…” his thumb rubbed your cheek, “He’s not.” Yuji shivered, leaning over on his dads head to tell you “Look in the bag.”

Sukuna side eyed Yuji who looked away, “what’s in the- the balls he had that made him think he could lift his hand.”

“But he’s a- he wasn’t, he became a eunuch a few hours ago and now he is gone.” Sukuna’s face was smug when he flipped Yuji off his shoulder and onto your bed, “Now there’s something I want to finish that he interrupted.” He nodded at the door and you felt your face heat up, “y-yeah.” Yuji was busy laughing and rolling over in your bed to notice his parents little game of bedroom eyes.😭

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[gluion]

between steel and velvet ➵ park gunwook

knight!park gunwook x ruler!reader

although you and gunwook knew your respective duties to rule and protect the adrestian empire, the reality is that you two are only kids forced into such responsibilities.

general genre/warnings ➵ friends to lovers, royalty au, hurt/comfort, angst, gender neutral reader, theo of p1h & seungcheol of svt mention, use of names from fe3h because im unoriginal to be thinking of new names

word count ➵ 1.7k words

playlist ➵ the lakes by taylor swift // die with a smile by lady gaga & bruno mars

a/n ➵ this drabble is connected to my upcoming fic "prayers for a garden" :]] this can be read alone for the time being but it would be good if you check it out once it releases! for @shegotthewoobies who survived the gluion drought. thank you real yearner for supporting me. if you enjoyed reading, please do reblog & leave feedback!

want to be part of my taglist? send me an ask! masterlist

gunwook is all too familiar with the weight of steel; rattling with every step and causing his shoulders to ache. the coolness of a silver hilt doesn’t faze him. his balance rarely falters with every jab and his arms are accustomed to every swing. still, he finds himself muttering complaints when he retreats to the quarters after a long day of training.

maybe it helps that he grew up surrounded by knights. with his father leading them, gunwook always found his home filled with men in armor who swung their tankards as they sung out sorrows of what it means to be one. on most nights, they’d tell gunwook to find another job (like he had a choice). they’d joke to him about running away from the life of a knight, but all he would do was smile as he shook his head.

because if gunwook had to be honest, he always found himself gravitating towards steel and chain—the only thing he hates is the idea of fitting into his father’s shoes; a well-respected commander who has known of sacrifice from the start, even going as far as having his own portrait on a wall filled with a lineage of rulers. after all, every king and commander is marked into the adrestian empire’s history—a pair from every tenure.

the reality is that gunwook lacks the skills of what it takes to be a commander. he has yet to learn what it means to lead an army, let alone know how to strategize, but his father had expectations that gunwook had to fulfill before he retires (or much worse, dies on the battlefield). 

gunwook can bear the weight of steel on his shoulders—not the title of a commander.

but his world shifted when he learned of who would be his partner—the one who he would be going down in history with—and he found himself constantly faced with the question his father would throw at him: does he have what it takes to serve you?

perhaps gunwook has time to level his expectations on what it means to take over his father’s role. because when he comes across you, he realizes that you two are in the same boat.

the only difference is that he seemed to have more time; more days to train and more hours to study battle plans.

your life, however, turned upside down in one day.

gunwook was going to call it a day. something about today’s training drained him until his legs were cramping. whenever he had to move his arms, he muttered profanities over the soreness. he already denied theo’s invitation for a night out at the saloon, to which he received an earful of complaints for. it didn’t help that seungcheol was making use of his superiority over him, going as far as ridiculing him for his lack of endurance.

but gunwook is all too familiar with his comrades; he wasn’t going to fall for the same tricks.

regardless of the objections, gunwook managed to escape the barracks. he didn’t even think to strip off his heavy armor. but the breeze of the night hit his cheeks—that was enough to give him the last ounce of energy for him to march back to the quarters.

he takes the same path from the barracks to his room; through the garden of different-colored hydrangeas, past the entrance of the chapel where he offers reverence, all the way to the hall filled with portraits. every time gunwook passes through this hall, his steps always slow down as he takes in the same paintings.

tonight shouldn’t be different.

as gunwook’s eyes grace through the portraits, paint strokes capturing commanders’ similar stern expressions, he recalls their history: their journey into the royal army, the sweat it took to become commander, and the sacrifices they made as they led the knights.

and similar to other nights, he makes the same comment: despite the bloodshed, they stood tall—will gunwook be able to say the same for himself?

yet, tonight presents its first difference.

from a distance, gunwook spots someone sitting on a velvet bench. his eyes squint as he continues to walk through the hall, only to make out that it’s you

it’s not unusual to spot you outside of your chambers but you were always accompanied, either by gunwook or a maid. yet, your lonely figure has their eyes peeled to a portrait.

his steps hasten—his majesty cannot be left unattended. no one would allow it—until he hears your sniffles. gunwook watches you wipe away your tears, only for more to stream down your cheeks, and he understands why you’re alone tonight.

you were never the type to cry in front of others. gunwook first learned that when you were scolded by the king. and while he can’t recall for what reason, he remembers the tremble in your voice as you asked him to wait outside your door for a few minutes. you came out of the room with a red, runny rose.

and it’s during these moments where gunwook curses the rattling of his armor because the next steps he takes draws your attention. you glance at him before blinking back the tears. “gunwook, i didn’t know you were here,” you say as you clear your throat in between words.

“your majesty, i didn’t mean to intrude. i was only on my way back to my quarters.”

you wave your hand in reassurance. “it’s okay.” another cough. “did your training finish just now?” you ask without sparing him a glance.

“yes, your majesty.”

with one nod, you say, “okay. i don’t want to keep you from resting. i’m sure you’ve had a long day.”

but gunwook doesn’t care for the lack of sleep he got today or the countless hours he spent in the barracks. “your majesty, there is no trouble with me staying.” you look at him, and he takes in your bloodshot eyes and red nose. “i’ll accompany you until the very end.”

all it takes is one smile from you before he stations himself beside you. as he looks straight ahead, he realizes what you’ve been looking at this whole time: a portrait of the king. your father.

“why don’t you sit down beside me?”

“your majesty, i don’t think it would be proper for me to do so. i’m only allowed to—”

“gunwook.” as your tone shifts from curiosity into agony, he peers over towards you. your eyes are glossy once more. “would you sit down beside me? just this once?”

and gunwook realizes that you didn’t need your commander right now—so, he follows.

he looks at the same painting you’re staring at, respecting and offering your last ounces of privacy. regardless of your request for him to stay by your side, he knows to not look should you shed any more tears.

but then you ask, “do you think you’re ready to be commander?”

gunwook thinks this is a test. if he lies, he might find himself poorly delivering his duties—but to be honest would mean to be removed from his job. away from you.

so, he settles for an answer that held a bit of both. “i don’t know.”

a soft hum leaves you, then silence follows.

gunwook thinks he might’ve failed to give the answer you were looking for. he shouldn’t have kept his guard down. he’s meant to serve you, after all—

“you have time.” his heart beats twice. “time to train. time to learn.” he exhales. “time to figure out if you want to be commander or not.”

gunwook can’t find the right words to say, so he opts for no response.

“i wish i had the same amount of time as you.”

your voice crack causes gunwook to glance at you, only to see you hiding your face behind your hands, and he looks away as he scolds himself for not respecting your privacy. 

he remains frozen in his seat. he didn’t know what to act as: your right-hand man or your counselor. at this moment, the boundaries are blurred.

gunwook doesn’t know how to serve you—until your hand reaches out for his.

he looks down to your linked hands that rest on his thigh; his callous-covered fingers in between yours. you grip onto his hand like it’s the first and last thing you can reach for in this hall, like how you were taught to hold a scepter, and gunwook figures out what you need him to be: your comfort.

as he laces his fingers with yours, your sobs turn into wails.

“gunwook, i can’t be the ruler. i can’t.” he looks at you whose eyes remain stuck to the painting. “i’m not fit for it, and i can’t be the ruler the empire wants. i can’t be what the people need.”

for a second, gunwook thinks he should interject. out of all the commoners and royalty within this castle, he’s certain about you. after all the time you’ve spent together, sharing to him in secrecy about your own plans for reformations, he knows where your heart lies—and that’s enough to prove your entitlement to the throne.

but it’s one sentence that changes his way of thinking, and he mourns with you.

“i’m only but a child.”

because like you, gunwook thinks the same of himself. maybe his hesitation doesn’t only come from his lack of skills and experience.

maybe it stems from the fact that he is still a kid, too.

and like every kid who cries, they long for a hug—and he does that for you.

as he wraps his arms around you, your face finds its spot by the crevice of his collar. the steel armor against your cheek is cold, and you try to chase his warmth by nuzzling into his neck, but his suit prevents you from doing so.

the last thing gunwook wants is to make you feel any lonelier, so he holds you close. his hand rubs your back in circles as you continue to sob, hoping that its warmth is enough to suffice. without thinking, his free hand reaches for the back of your head.

he freezes. he should be more careful with you. it’s not right for a knight to hold you—

you nuzzle your face closer to his neck.

gunwook realizes that this is what you need.

even if it meant going against the king. going against the commander. going against the world.

he’ll do anything if it means to remain by your side.

(gunwook would never expect the same thing from you.)

(but you would give up the world for him.)

networks: @kflixnet @k-labels @blankjournal @zumblrnet

zb1 permanent tag list: @deinsleeps

[pretzel-box]

Hi Chea!!! First of all, I read some of ur fics, and I absolutely loved it. You did such a great job :D

Second, I wanna make a fic request because why not lol. It's my first time doing this, so I'm a lil nervous ishdudjudos

Can I pls get a fic where reader gets ill (like probably a cold or whatever) because of them constantly entering bodies of water and by the time they reach Sebastian, they're wet and miserable as hell so Sebastian just decides to keep them in his shop to rest and recover lmao

(Sorry if this ask is a mouth full aishdidhhd)

Tags: GN!Reader, Can be read as Established Relationship, Reader has a cold probably, comfort, slight fluff.

Words: 1,1k

Authors Note: Sorry for the wait! ÓwÒ It took me a while to gather my creative brain cells. I actually edited this story twice, so if there are any weird words or logic mistakes then I overlooked something!

It had started as a small, nagging tickle in your throat—a little cough here, a sniffle there. Nothing serious, you told yourself. But days passed, and that tickle had grown into something worse. Yet, despite it, you kept going, pushing through the feverish haze that had begun to creep in. After all, the job wasn’t going to finish itself. Each day, you found yourself wading through rooms, water, and debris, trudging through wet halls to retrieve all assets and the crystal that were needed, drenched to the bone in cold, murky water.

You told yourself that once you were done, you’d rest. But for now, you have to keep moving. And so you did. Rest means death and death isn't something you aimed at for now. So it either meant pushing through or giving up.

By the time you reached Sebastian’s shop, the combination of the relentless water and your refusal to take care of yourself had finally caught up with you. The cold had settled deep into your bones, and your wet diving suit clung to your skin, sticking uncomfortably as you stumbled inside his little store. The warmth of the room hit you like a wave, making your head swim, and you stopped just inside the door, breathing heavily.

Sebastian, stood in front of a table and sorted through papers, glanced up the moment you entered. His usual sarcastic smile froze as his gaze took in your appearance.

You looked a mess—soaked, shivering, and pale, with dark circles under your eyes and a slight flush on your cheeks from the fever you were clearly running. Water dripped from your hair, forming a small puddle on the floor beneath you. For a moment, he just stared at you, incredulous.

“Are you serious?” Sebastian’s voice broke the silence, his usual dry tone tinged with something close to concern. “You look like death warmed up in a microwave. I don't sell coffins here yet.

You tried to muster a reply, maybe something sarcastic, but all that came out was a hoarse cough. The effort left you feeling even more drained than before. Sebastian’s expression softened as he sighed, slithering over to you with a quick glance at the water-soaked floor.

“Come on,” he muttered, shaking his head. “You're staying here. There’s no way I’m letting you go back out like this.”

You didn’t have the energy to argue—not that you would, honestly. The idea of staying in Sebastian’s warm, quiet shop was far more appealing than going back out into the cold, miserable hallways. You let him guide you through the cluttered aisles, past shelves filled with oddities and relics, to a back room that you had only seen in passing.

It was cozy, with a pile of blankets by the barely functioning heater and a couple of scattered books on a nearby table. Sebastian, ever practical despite his tendency to tease, pointed to the pile of blankets. “Sit. Don’t move.”

You collapsed into the pile, grateful for the soft fabrics that seemed to envelop you. The warmth of the heater seeped into your cold, aching limbs, and you closed your eyes for a moment, just trying to shake off the chill that had settled deep into your bones.

Sebastian disappeared for a moment, only to return with a towel, some dry clothes, and a steaming cup of whatever liquid he had in the cup. He tossed the towel onto your lap and then held out the cup, raising an eyebrow when you blinked up at him, surprised.

“I’m not going to sit here and watch you shiver to death,” he said, the corners of his mouth twitching in what might’ve been a smile. “Drink up, and then get changed. I’ll turn around if you’re shy.”

You snorted at that, though it turned into another cough. “I think I’m too tired to care.”

Still, his comment brought a bit of warmth to your chest. Sebastian wasn’t always the most outwardly affectionate person, but he had his moments. You took the cup from his hands, wrapping your fingers around it and letting the heat sink into your cold palms.

The tea-like liquid was soothing as it slid down your throat, easing some of the tightness that had built up. Meanwhile, Sebastian busied himself by pulling a blanket from a nearby chest and draping it over your shoulders, creating a little nest of warmth around you.

“Why didn’t you say something?” he asked quietly as he settled onto the edge of a nearby table, watching you closely. “You’re not exactly subtle when you're sick.”

“I thought I could handle it,” you mumbled, tugging the blanket closer. “Didn’t want to bother you.”

Sebastian gave you a look that clearly said, *Are you kidding me?*

“You’re soaked and half-dead, and you thought that wasn’t worth mentioning?” he asked, crossing his arms. “I think that qualifies as a situation where bothering me is okay.”

You sighed, leaning back into the blankets. The heater running softly in the background, the sound oddly comforting as the warmth of the tea and the room finally started to loosen the tightness in your chest.

“Sorry,” you muttered. “I’m just… tired.”

“I’d imagine so,” Sebastian replied, his voice softer now, less teasing. “But next time, just tell me. You don’t have to go through this alone.”

You met his eyes, feeling a mix of gratitude and exhaustion wash over you. “Thanks.”

He nodded, brushing it off with a wave of his hand, though you could tell he was relieved that you were finally letting him help. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t get all sentimental on me. Just rest, alright?”

You smiled faintly, shifting in the pile to get more comfortable. The heater, the warmth, the steady presence of Sebastian nearby—it all worked to lull you into a sense of peace that you hadn’t felt in days.

As you started to drift off, you felt a gentle hand on your shoulder. “I’ll keep an eye on you,” Sebastian murmured. “Just sleep.”

For once, you didn’t fight it. You let yourself relax, your body finally giving in to the exhaustion that had been gnawing at you for so long. And as you fell into a much-needed sleep, you knew you were safe. You were warm, you were cared for—and for the first time in a while, you didn’t feel so alone.

When you woke up later, the room was dim, and the heater had cooled down a bit. Sebastian was still there, sitting in a nearby corner, flipping through a file. He glanced up when he noticed you stirring.

“Feeling better?” he asked, his tone casual, though there was an underlying note of concern.

You nodded, your throat still a little sore, but the rest of you felt… better. Lighter, maybe. “Yeah. A bit.”

“Good.” He closed the book and stood up, stretching. “You’re staying here until you’re completely better. I’m not letting you back out there until I’m sure you won’t collapse in a puddle somewhere.”

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through you that had felt oddly comforting. “Deal.”

And for the first time in what felt like forever, you truly meant it.

[rabesbabe]

Silver Soul

Jackie Taylor x Fem!Reader

part one ➴ part two part three

Summary: You accidentally injure Jackie one day during practice and your relationship with her starts to bloom.

A/N: Jackie is such a cutie and she literally did no wrong the entire series (fight w me idc). But I’m hoping YJ tumblr is still alive idk? Enjoy this fic tho ! (Not proofread)

“Oh my god.”

Your mouth is agape as you watch the ball you kicked hit Jackie Taylor straight in the nose.

The whole team stood and watched in shock as the ball coming from the complete opposite end of the field smacks her straight in the face.

The best way to describe Jackie in your words was perfect. And you weren’t jealous of her or anything. You liked who you were and all but it was just true. Jackie had amazing grades, she was the captain of the soccer team and, from what you knew she came from a good family.

Even though you had been on the same team as her for two years now, you guys never really became anything more than acquaintances. You waved at her in the halls and she did the same but that was kind of it. You guys had different social circles and shared a few classes but never talked in them. She wasn’t anything to you really besides your teammate.

You ran as fast as you could to the other side of the field to help Jackie who was now clutching her nose and wincing in pain.

“Wait, Y/N!” You heard Natalie call out to you. And as you were running you looked back to see what Nat was calling after you about.

When suddenly you ran straight into Jackie and you both fell to the ground.

You grab your head and wince. Jesus did you have to be this clumsy?

Opening your eyes you see Taissa offering you her hand and laughing while Van does the same for Jackie.

As you stand up, you look at Jackie, her face was red from the impact and her eyes looked glossy. You felt like the worst person in the world.

“Shit, Jackie, I’m so sorry.” You say.

She winced again as she looks at you and tries her best to smile through the pain. “It’s totally fine. You didn’t mean to.”

Still feeling like satan himself you offer to take her to the nurse.

“Yeah that’d be great.” She says.

As you and Jackie make your way to the side of the field Nat catches up with you.

“Way to go Y/N,” She says, teasing you.

“Now, is not the time to be an asshole.” You say to her halfway joking.

You and Nat had been best friends since practically the first day of kindergarten. You had caught her outside throwing rocks at kids during recess, and since that was right up your alley, you joined her. Ever since then you guys have been inseparable. And constantly being menaces towards everyone together.

Nat waves you off and walks back to the field. You turn your attention to Jackie and stop her so that you can move her hands from her face. You Inspect her nose and it was most definitely bleeding but, it looked okay. You were shocked at how powerful you could kick.

“It should be fine.” You say smiling a little at Jackie.

She nods not seeming to believe you.

The walk to the nurses office was filled with awkward silence. You had no idea what to say to her. You just kicked her in the face and then basically tackled her. You were shocked she didn’t hate your guts.

As you walk to the door you realize that since it’s after school the nurse isn’t gonna be inside the office.

“Uhm. I kinda forgot that she wasn’t gonna be here.” You say awkwardly to Jackie who somehow, was giving you her award winning smile even though her nose was literally bleeding onto her jersey.

“It’s fine I can just get ice when I get home.” She says, shuffling her feet.

“Or I could get us into the office without a key?” You say smirking.

She looks up at you, her hazel eyes glowing with disapproval. “There’s cameras? Don’t you think they’ll see us.”

“So what? Are they gonna give us detention for stealing an Ice pack?” You laugh, rolling your eyes.

The corner of her mouth turned upwards and she smiles a bit but still looks worried.

“Come on Jackie, live a little.” You look down at the lock and grab a hairpin.

In about 3 minutes you were into the office.

Jackie looks at you her mouth slightly open.

“Wow, you didn’t think I could do it did you?” You look at her with a fake offended face on.

“No I definitely didn’t. But, you did.” She says giggling.

Still feeling very responsible for her obvious pain you say, “Here sit on one of the beds I’ll grab the ice pack.”

Looking around the nurses office you find the freezer and grab some ice. You put it into a plastic bag and wrap a paper towel around it.

“Scooch.” You say and you sit next to her on the nurses bed.

You gently grab her chin and inspect her face noticing that the bleeding stopped.

“Wait.” You say getting an idea. You go into the bathroom get some tissue and wet it with cold water.

When you get back over to her you notice she’s already shifted back into where you were sitting.

You playfully roll your eyes at her. “Cmon, schooch again.”

You sit back down and grab her face again. This time you move closer your faces are only inches away from each other. You gently wipe the blood off her face. Her breathing starts to falter a little and you look her in the eyes. “God, the ball must’ve hit you hard, you can barely breathe from the pain.”

Her cheeks go a light shade of pink that you wouldn’t have noticed if you weren’t so close to her. “Uhm. Yeah it hit me pretty hard.” She says.

“Sorry again.” You say.

A little out of it from the throbbing coming from her face and her proximity to you at the moment, Jackie bursted out laughing. Very confused since nothing funny happened, you look at her.

“What?” You say starting to laugh a little yourself.

“Nothing,” She says trying to catch her breath. “You’re just like the clumsiest person i’ve ever met.”

“Asshole,” you laugh out.

“I’m the asshole? You’re the one who kicked me.” she exclaims, attempting to stifle her laugh.

You narrow your eyes at her playfully and hand her the ice pack.

“Now you’re back to the beautiful normal Jackie,” You say. “All that blood was not doing you justice.” You joke.

She blushes at your words slightly and you notice but brush it off as her face just being red from earlier.

Getting up from the bed she looks down at her wrist, checking the time. “Practice is probably over now.”

“Yeah. We should go and get changed.”

-⚽️-

After changing and showering you walk with Nat to your car. You guys stop there for a bit and chat.

“Is she coming over here?” You say furrowing your eyes and looking into the distance.

Across the parking lot was Jackie, smiling at you and Nat, in her perfect little outfit.

“You kick a girl in the face one time and now she’s obsessed.” Natalie says smirking while taking a drag from a cigarette.

You elbow Nat in the side at her sarcasm causing her to drop her cig. “Ouch?!” Clutching at her side she looks at you. When Jackie reaches your car she stops right in front of you and Natalie.

“Uh hey Jackie.” You say weerily.

“Hi.” She says, giving you that smile she gave everyone when she wanted something. You had seen it before a million times. And it worked every single time.

“Did you need something?” You ask.

“Yeah actually, I was wondering if you could drive me home?” She Bats her eyelashes at you innocently.

Nat gives you a confused look and you shoot one right back at her. Why was she suddenly talking to you?

You try to think of an excuse to say no. You had a routine after school. You got coffee at your favorite place and studied. Sometimes Nat came along if she wasn’t working. And then after school you’d watch movies or hangout with friends and smoke. Driving Jackie Taylor home was not apart of that routine.

“Doesn’t Shauna take you home? I thought you guys always like hungout after practice or something.”

“It’s totally fine! She’ll survive one day without us hanging out. Plus you owe me after today.” She smiles at you again.

Nat buts in. “Yeah you owe her Y/N, drive the nice girl home.” She says trying to annoy you.

You look over at Nat and give her a look that she immediately understands as “I’m literally going to kill you if you don’t leave right now.” Nat laughs and walks to her car. “I’ll call you later Y/N.” She yells to you before getting in.

You flip her off and yell back, “Please don’t!”

Jackie looks at you again and asks, “So are you gonna drive me or not?”

You just sigh and open the door for her.

She squeals and gets in.

“Oh, by the way I usually stop for coffee so I guess you have to come with me.” You say starting the car up.

“Fine by me.” She says.

You guys pull out of the parking lot and drive for a while in silence. You notice Jackie looking over at you every now and then and you try your best to ignore it.

“So, are you gonna play music?” She asks looking at you expectantly.

“If you want,” You shrug. “There’s a few cassettes in the glove compartment right there.”

She opens the glove compartment and gasps. “The Smashing Pumpkins!”

You look over at her doubtful. “You know them?”

“Duh.” She says rolling her eyes. You laugh and she puts the tape in.

1979 starts playing and she rolls her window down poking her head out.

Finally, you both make it to the coffee shop. You park and walk in.

Jackie looks around seeming to be impressed by the place. “This is really nice,” She says. “You come here everyday?”

You nod. “Yeah basically, I just come here to study for tests and things.”

You get to the register and tell the barista your order and so does Jackie. You go to pay for the coffee when Jackie grabs your hand. “Something wrong?” You say confused.

“My treat!” She says smiling. You step back and let her pay.

While Jackie waited for the coffee you grab a table. She sits down and hands you your coffee. “Thanks for paying by the way.” You say and smile a little at her.

“Anytime!” She says enthusiastically. She was constantly happy it was almost annoying.

You guys study for a while talking about random things. Jackie gets silent for a bit and you look up at her. She looked like she was super deep in thought about something.

“So are you like dating anyone?” She asks avoiding your gaze.

You look up confused as to why she wanted to know but you answered anyway. “Uh no not technically I guess.” You said. You weren’t really lying. You and this girl talked on and off but nothing ever really came of it besides a few kisses at parties every now and then. Your love life was practically nonexistent.

Jackie nodded. “What about you? Aren’t you seeing that dude. I can’t remember his name isn’t it like Jack?”

She chuckles. “Jeff. And no we broke up while ago.”

“Oh,” You say. “That sucks.”

She sips her coffee. “Yeah it’s whatever I don’t really like him anyways,” She looks down. “I don’t know if I ever did to be honest.”

Now you were curious. You look at her and notice she’s doodling on her hands. “What do you mean?” You inquire.

“Well, I don’t know.” She sighs. “It’s nothing.” Her hands start fidgeting with her pen and she breaks eye contact with you.

You were shocked by her mood shift. You’d never seen her look unsure of herself before. The only Jackie you’d ever known was the confident self-assured one.

“Well whatever it is, I’m sure your feelings are valid. Relationships are complicated. And any guy is lucky to have you Jackie.” You smile at her trying to make her feel better.

She looks up at you and smiles. “You’re not so bad yourself Y/N. Any guy is lucky to date you too.”

You almost spit out your coffee at her words. “Guy?” You say laughing.

She looks at you confused until it clicks and she widens her eyes. “Oh! I- Sorry I didn’t know.”

Laughing you say, “I’m surprised you didn’t?”

“Does everyone else know?” She asks baffled.

“Basically. And Im not the only one on the team you know?” You explain taking a sip of your coffee.

“What?!” She says, “Who else?”

You rest your head in your hand as if trying to recall who else. “Well, Van, Taissa, Nats Bi, and so is Lottie.”

She looks at you, her mouth agape. “Am I really this blind?”

You giggle at her “I guess so.”

You both stayed in the coffee shop longer than you normally do. You and Jackie actually got a long very well and it came as a shock to you. You were still a little confused as to why she even was hanging around you but it was refreshing. And you couldn’t help but notice how beautiful she was. Her naturally gorgeous hair, which seemed to always look like it was freshly blown out, the curve of her nose, her beautiful big eyes.

That night when you got home Jackie infiltrated your thoughts. You thought about her while eating dinner, while showering and, while you went to bed. You couldn’t get her off your mind and you already knew where this was going. You spent one day with her and now you had a crush on her. Was she really that intoxicating?

[messyhairedhazeleyeddude]

Ache // Yandere! Ticci Toby x

Fem! Reader {SMUT}

[Hello, this will be the first fic that I post. What I'm going to give you guys beforehand is some trigger warnings before we get on to it. Other than that, I hope you enjoy it and give me some feedback whenever you're done if you feel in the mood.]

TW // Violence, r@pe, and a whole lotta mention of murder as always.

𓌏 ☒ 𓌏 ☒ 𓌏 ☒ 𓌏 ☒ 𓌏 ☒ 𓌏 ☒ - First P.O.V

Every day, it started like this. Planted in my bed, tangled in my grey sheets, waiting for that one sliver of motivation to get out of my blankets. My room was a mess. Pieces of clothing scattered across the floor, piling up around my dresser, and hanging off of places I tossed them.

I stared over the rest of what I could see while trying to get rid of the bitter taste of soda left on my tongue from last night. The posters I've collected of my favorite bands clung onto the wall for dear life, fading away from how long they had been there. An empty Sprite can stood on my nightstand, left there after my body decided to have its third caffeine crash this week.

It was getting so warm where I was lying that I was starting to overheat, making me shuffle around to stay cold. That wasn't too hard because of how freezing my room was.

When I looked at my window, I noticed it was cracked open. If I didn't shut it soon, it would get worse. But minutes were melting into each other and I didn't want to get up. Why did I love to procrastinate so much? It shouldn't be this hard to move on with my day.

Silence filled every corner of my apartment, leaving me to peacefully rot. Was it selfish of me to be like this? That's what it felt like they were trying to say when I talked to relatives. But that's the reason why I prefer to be shut-in. I never had to hear that about myself. The world outside would remain indifferent. And hopefully, by the time I had to move, I was swallowed into the Earth below.

A sudden vibration of my phone startled me. I mumbled a barrage of curses and reached for it slowly, furrowing my brows and groaning. I could only pray that it wasn't him trying to contact me.

The last time he visited, I no longer felt safe outside. I would check behind me constantly, feeling as if his light brown eyes were glued to my back, and at any moment, he could come back and chop off my limbs until I was a headless torso. Remembering that he existed caused that horrible anxiety to spread goosebumps across my skin. I was shaking as I tried to unlock my phone.

Hundreds of notifications popped up that I had been ignoring, some of them messages from my mom, and the rest were emails. I almost accidentally clicked on one before I found the most recent. "Return library books today," it read. Fuck, I forgot today was the due date for those. Despite not wanting to, I had to get up. I did promise that if I had a reason to, I would.

I peeled myself from the comfort of my bed. My sheets clung to me like glue, trying to pull me back as if it were a bad idea. Fighting against it, I shivered at the sudden change in temperature and pulled down the bottoms of my shorts so they weren't wedged in between my ass.

After not walking for what felt like forever, I took my first steps, a soreness on my left thigh making me place a hand on my dresser for support. I looked down at a bruise from that encounter, biting my lip to distract myself from thinking about it. I need to take my pills or I'll get suicidal. So many things to do. So overwhelmed.

Encouraging myself in my head, I found the strength to go for the door. I opened it and turned down my hallway, going for the bathroom with quick and light steps.

Many pictures of family and portraits were loosely decorated on the wall, a pit in my stomach opened when I stared at them. I lingered on my dad and had to tear myself away from the picture before I felt the need to cry.

Stumbling into the bathroom, I flicked on the harsh yellow light and stood before the mirror, running a hand through my disheveled hair. I reached for the medicine cabinet, the hinges squeaking as I rummaged through it. I grabbed my medication and popped the bottle open, tossing out a tiny pill into my palm. I swallowed the bitter capsule and cringed as it slowly went down.

Turning my attention to the sink, I turned on the cold water and brought my mouth to the tap to take a sip. Then I splashed it on my face after I was done, relieved that the pill was no longer there. On the counter, I focused on the facewash I hadn't used in god knows how long. I missed the feeling of my face being clean. At least, I can't forget about it now.

I poured the runny liquid into my hands and rubbed them together, slapping it on my face and rubbing it in circles to get deep in my pores. It foamed up a bit and burned. If I'm going to be honest, I don't know if I'm supposed to be using this, but it works.

As I was splashing the water on my face again to clean it off, I opened my eyes to a man staring at me in the mirror, causing me to freeze. I could see the glisten of his goggles from here, that blue hood covering his messy hair, but it didn't contain enough around the edges. It was him. The man who attacked me and my dad a couple of days ago.

A scream clawed its way up my throat, but before the sound could escape, I reached for something. Grab anything to protect myself, that's all I needed to do. But before I could, the room blurred as I twisted, my hand grasping a razor for a split second.

I was torn away from it. I felt a hard impact on my back as I was slammed against the wall, the air forcing out of my lungs in a sharp gasp. I struggled to breathe, my hands grabbing onto his wrists while they dug into my neck.

He had me pinned against it and struggling to get any sort of noise out. Slowly, I was dragged up upward and lifted off of the ground. I choked, my vision was fading as his glare burned into mine. He's going to kill me. Just like he did to Dad. He's going to get away with it. I pulled my head back against the wall before lunging it forward to collide it with the serial killer's, his hands faltering their hold and dropping me from the force of it.

I collapsed to the floor and sputtered out several coughs, hunched up in a ball and desperately trying to regain the oxygen he took from me. My neck felt numb, the indents of his fingers bruising and stung like a bitch.

He crouched down to me. I closed my eyes and thought he would finish it right there. But when I suddenly felt his lips press against mine, they shot back open. Breathing heavily through my nose, I stared at his shut eyelids. I glanced down at his lashes, feeling his breath as he sighed. He relaxed into me for a split second before pulling away, lowering his voice to a rough whisper to introduce himself, "It's nice to meet you finally, {F/N}. The name's Tobias."

Struggling to get myself sitting up, I made it by resting on the wall and using my hands to keep me there. My chest rapidly went up and down as I watched his every move. He backed away a bit, but not enough to give me leverage. I repeated, "Tobias?" And his eyebrow quirked up like he was questioning my reaction.

"I can also go by Toby. Whatever you prefer. But I gave you my full name because I really like you, [F/N]," he added. I knitted my brows and shook my head, unable to understand what he was saying. He liked me? He just kissed me? What the fuck?

I pushed myself away from him and got back up, running for it and successfully escaping the bathroom. The front door was right in front of me, I barely got to reach for it before I felt a hand grab a fistful of my hair. No, I almost had it!

Strands of my hair were ripped out as I was yanked backward and thrown onto the couch, falling onto it and yelping in pain. Tears fell from my eyes and I clutched my head, grabbing the part that hurt the most. A headache was coming on and I couldn't help but rock myself to soothe it. I sobbed, "Leave me alone! Please, just leave me alone..." I twisted myself to let out the rest in the cushions, hearing him approach behind me.

After crying for a bit and nothing was happening to me, I hesitantly lifted myself to take a peek. Toby was sitting next to me, almost as if he was waiting patiently for me to finish. When he saw that I was staring at him, he patted his lap and said, "Here. Rest your pretty head and we can get to talking about this, sweetheart."

I was too scared of him to tell him no. It was the first time I felt pure terror from somebody. Like I would never be able to fight back with him. And I was right. I couldn't. The sad truth was that if my dad had fallen to this man, I'm sure I would live the same fate if I didn't listen. Dragging myself, I cringed while laying my head onto his leg, feeling his hand rest on my head and causing me to flinch. "Sh, sh, I'm not going to hurt you anymore. I told you, I really adore you, [F/N]," he reassured me. A part of me wanted to bite his leg to pieces, but if I went along with this until he fell asleep or left, then I could escape and possibly go to the police.

Deciding to go with it, I pretended to enjoy the warmth and snuggled into him. I wouldn't call it pretending actually, he was pretty warm. Toby hummed and it stayed like this for some time. He kept petting me, brushing my hair out of the way, soothing me from the chase earlier.

Eventually, he got bored of it and nudged me to sit back up. I tilted my head and asked, "What?" His hand went to rest on my lower back, applying pressure around it, pushing me forward until I was easing into sitting on him. A smile crossed his face at the compliance. He seemed intrigued by it.

"I didn't think you would give up this quick. I thought I was going to have to give you a couple more marks for memories," he sounded pleased as both of his arms wrapped around my waist. They were much bigger than mine, with a couple of veins etched up around them like vines, and faded scars littering everywhere on his skin. He had been doing this for years by the looks of it. There was no way in hell I was going to escape, huh?

Placing another kiss on my cheek, soft and gentle, his eyelashes brushed against me before he pulled away to speak again, "Do you know what I've been picturing every night to the thought of you, [F/N]?" His hands dropped lower to skim over my ass, lightly gripping, and dragging me toward him. My breath hitched. I didn't say a word.

Toby answered for me, "I've been picturing taking these off..." His fingers gripped around the waistband of my shorts and teased me about taking them off by pushing them down lightly. Continuing that, he said, "Have you to myself for a couple of hours..."

There were so many reasons why I should say no to him and why I shouldn't allow him to touch me like this. For one, he killed my father. He broke into my house and he was physically violent to me. I felt disgusting that he had gotten to this level too. But, I didn't stop him. I didn't say no and I didn't deny it. I looked into this killer's eyes and I leaned onto his chest, giving into what he wanted

When we kissed for the second time, I noticed how chapped his lips were, and opened my mouth a little to swipe my tongue across his bottom one. Toby tensed up. And without warning, I felt his tongue use the opportunity to have an exchange with mine. I gasped through my nose, the escalation getting worse and worse. A blush began to spread across my face.

He lifted me off of his lap to flip me onto the couch, putting both of his palms by either side of my head. I was back to being pinned underneath him. I don't know what was happening to me. Something was wrong with me, I was sick for this. I was sick... because I enjoyed this.

His sweater and shirt fell to the floor as we fought each other with kisses. His teeth bit into my lower lip and pulled it back while I moved to unbuckle his belt. I was giving in to this. I was really fucking the guy that took away everybody I loved in my life.

Barely in any clothes, we both took a moment to stare at each other, oddly feeling like he was admiring me from how he looked up and down my body. Toby took his time, pressing small pecks across my chest up to my neck, snaking his arms around to my back. He unclipped my bra and slipped it off of me. I wanted to cover myself, but I no longer wanted to move. I didn't have any motivation. There was nothing left to fight for.

The gloves and bandages around his fingers felt weird against my skin especially when he played with my chest. He squeezed one, bit the other, and once he heard a moan slip out of me, he stopped to let me process. He complimented me, his voice a bit raspy like he was fighting the urge to do something to me already, "You look even better so close like this, with how foggy those windows would get. It would make me want to break them and threaten you then and there."

I bit the inside of my cheek and he got closer, hooking onto my panties and pulling them down as a smirk spread on his face. My lack of response didn't concern him. He kept going despite that, throwing the thin fabric somewhere in the room before he looked up at me. His hair was in his face and the eyebags around his eyes told me he was more than dangerous. How many times has he done this?

Toby muttered seriously, breaking me out of the moment, "Who do you belong to?" I blankly gazed at him, watching as he stood up and slowly inched his boxers down. I can't speak. I can't tell him that. More scars appeared, his v-line making my eyes linger, and I got distracted. His dick was let out before I could respond.

My eyes widened and I tried to squeeze my legs shut, but he kept them apart as soon as they moved, holding both of my knees up to my shoulders. I was breathing super fast, my heart raced, and I was feeling the ache in between both of my legs. It was nothing compared to when he positioned himself and pushed the tip inside.

Digging my nails into his arms, I cried out in pain and threw my head back, looking up at his satisfied face. Toby groaned, a laugh following behind it, "You don't have to answer. I'll do it for you." He rammed most of what he could, grabbing both of my thighs so tightly that it was guaranteed to be bruised. I screamed out. He was too rough and too much for me to take like this. It hurt. It fucking ached. I was being drilled into the cushions.

Trying to handle it was impossible. He made it impossible for me. His hips connected as he went deeper, loud slaps coming from it, bouncing off and echoing. I didn't want to think about the neighbors hearing me lose my dignity like this. I didn't want to think about the fact my dad could be witnessing this. But it was starting to feel good. Really fucking good. My eyes rolled to the back of my head and after that, I didn't care anymore.

I wrapped my legs and arms around him, pulling him closer and savoring his dick carving into the parts I didn't know were there. Moaning, swearing, and muttering filled the room. We were getting lost in the bliss and saying whatever was on the mind. Or I was. His name left me a couple of times and so did encouragement, "More.. More, please, Toby!"

Flipping around again when he got a little tired, I gyrated my hips and sat on his lap so I could bounce, sliding up and down until I could feel my walls beginning to squeeze. I was close and this position wasn't helping. I held my breath and Toby took notice, pressing his forehead against mine.

"Let it out for me, baby. Don't be shy," he cooed, sweat dripping down his forehead like he was holding back his own. I bit the inside of my cheek and a desperate moan came out, "Fuuuuuck, cummm with! Please!"

He didn't listen to me and lifted me off of the couch with him, holding me up in the air while guiding me down onto his shaft. I went limp and drool fell down the side of my chin as I buried myself into the crook of his neck, biting it a little to vent out the overwhelming pleasure. Toby didn't let up until a couple of more minutes of fucking me passed and I was fucked out enough that my legs were shaking.

When he was about to cum himself, he set me back down, rushing up to my face to give me a facial. My mouth was open from panting and I caught a bit on my tongue, swallowing it when we were back to locking eyes. The rest landed on my nose, cheeks, and lips. He let out a loud groan as he unwinded, pulling away to see the display once he was done.

I lay there. Used. I lay there for him to stare at. Until he walked away for cleaning supplies. To think about what I was doing. To come back down and face the new reality I was in. I was his now and he was mine. And there was nothing I could do about it.

[silasours]

ৎ⸝⸝⠀DETECTIVE AND MURDERER IN HELL . —

#pairing : alastor x gn reader. #cw : may include adult content. enemies to lovers trope. #summary : you were a detective when you were a human! but uh oh, you died.. and you meet the target that you were on to before your death? #note : I feel bad for not posting for so long, here's a little sneak peek at what I'm working on! i received this prompt from an anon in my inbox and do i love it very much. i have so many ideas for this fic, it'll be my first ever long fic on this blog! i'll reply to the ask once I'm done with the fic :3

“my, isn’t it my favorite detective!” you hear a static, loud voice speak from behind you. you quirk a brow, slowly turning your head to see a demon that somehow resembles a deer. a red deer, that is. he wears this wide smile that stretches from ear to ear, his whole attire so formal it makes you question if you’re underdressed. he holds a cane in his hands; it looks like a speaker that he got custom-made. confusion bubbles inside of you, and multiple questions float across your mind. who is this man, that so happens to know what you work as when you were still alive?

and, out of all demons, why are you his favorite?

“I’m sorry, but have we met?” you turn your body to face him fully, your eyes scanning from head to toe wondering if it’s just a fuzzy memory of yours. the demon steps closer to you, a sense of uneasiness instantly rushes through your veins. you shudder suddenly..

“aha, of course we have! you were even so interested in me back when we were alive!” his words only made your confusion grow. you, being interested in someone? in what way? your work has never allowed you any extra space to catch feelings for anyone around you, so surely it’s not a crush unless you’ve misunderstood. It’s like he read your thoughts, he quickly adds in with a light chuckle.

“constantly trying to gather information about me, pinpointing my location, guessing my next move. fun times! I truly enjoyed watching you do so.” something clicked in your head. so this demon was presumably a target of yours before he died, but how could you know exactly which? you had so many targets, so many psychopaths you had to track down and lock them up for good. though, something about his deer features brings a blurry memory of a specific target that you currently can’t quite put a name to his face.

everyone in the hotel watches your interaction with the red demon quietly. the air is tense, nobody dared to breathe any harder than they are now. charlie is the most anxious one out of everyone in the room; angel is starting to doubt whether he should’ve brought you back to the hotel. but, surely, the manager is smarter than to kill off someone interested in staying, no?

“care to remind me which one are you?” your hands instinctively hide themselves in your pockets as a habit. your tone isn’t as friendly as it was when you spoke to the others, and the demon is loving the reaction he’s getting from you.

“gladly, my dear friend! i’d say my case was the one you spent the most time on,” you suddenly feel a strong tug on your hand before realizing that you’re shaking hands with the demon. his smile widens as you grow more uncomfortable. “the name’s alastor! pleasure to be meeting you, quite a pleasure! I was there to witness your lovely slash boring death,”

you pull your hand back from his grasp, face scrunching at the mention of your death. he witnessed your death? what is he hinting? Is he trying to tell you that it was he who took the life of yours?

“I watched as you were murdered by one petty man i convinced, it was one of the most boring deaths i’ve ever seen! but dear, was i disappointed that you’ll never be able to put a close to my case when i thought you’d do better at fighting back.” you freeze suddenly, blood running cold from your face as he carries on.

“I was the last target you had before dying, it was a joy toying with you like a little mouse.”

so that’s what all the familiarity you felt was. his demeanor and personality, all that was jotted down in the notebook you had for research. he matches everything you wrote; you remember word by word from the number of times you’ve reread it, the times at night when you’re desperate to finally put the case to a stop. you feel anger and disgust pound in your chest, feet stepping back a couple of times.

he’s the reason why you died. you stare at his mocking smile, his expression that clearly shows his enjoyment while watching your reaction. a growl bubbles from your chest, and you see the spider demon hesitantly approach you. he stays beside you, rubbing his arm nervously while trying to think of a reason to pull you away from this scene.

“I died because of you,” you breathe out, body shaking not from fear but anger and realization. you suddenly leap forward when angel is about to reach out for your arm, your fingers curl tightly around the collar of alastor’s shirt. his smile only widens at your actions, a light hum that slides out so smoothly and audibly. “and it was purely for fun?” it’s even possible to notice every small feature you have on your face from how close you’ve pulled his face to yours. you earn a mere shrug from the demon.

“woah! babes, hey, calm down would’ja? let’s head somewhere else.” you feel a tug at your arm, but you don’t budge. you want to hurt this demon, to beat him until he’s curled up into a ball on the ground, but you can’t. there’s something holding you back, something telling you to not go any further than what you’re currently doing. he reeks of danger and mystery, hell knows what would he do to you if you were to cross his line. with another growl, you harshly push him away and he stumbles back a few steps with a small ‘oh!’.

angel sees this and takes the chance to quickly drag you away from the scene, and you let him. Everyone in the hall watches angel drag you all the way to the kitchen until alastor is out of your sight. his clawed fingers release your arm, a concerned gaze fixated on your slumping figure as you let out a deep sigh while pressing your face onto the surface of your palms.

now, you’ll really have to think it through whether you want to stay in this hotel. having so many things to take in so suddenly messes up your thoughts, something you’re unfamiliar with considering how you’re always sharp and organized.

© silas ( @silasours ). all rights reserved. every work posted on this account belongs to me, and only me. please refrain from reposting, plagiarizing, translating, or reproducing my work in any form possible.

[dragonrider9905]

Infectious Love

Summery: After a failed, almost confession of love, you and Hunter's relationship is skating on thin ice...that is, until someone falls through (or gets stabbed in the gut), so to speak.

Warnings: Angst, lots of it, but comfort too. Lots of emotions. Mentions of blood and sickness.

Hellooooooooo @imaginesfordifferentfandoms tis I, your Secret Santa in the @cloneficgiftexchange!!!!! I really, really, hope you like it. I worked really hard on it ;D So I hope it turned out the way I imagined it in my head ;D Enjoy this kinda longish drabble XD Hehehehe now you understand all the questions I asked. I hope you don't mind I went with Hunter. You seemed to not mind any of them; he's my favorite so I know I can get carried away :D and I wanted to make sure the story was nice! Also, I gave Hunter's scarf a destiny. A fate. A sense of purpose. We now know what happened to it. I have spoken.

Furthermore, I'd like to throw a huge shout out to some people who deserve it. Firstly, @ghostofskywalker. Thank you so much for organizing this event and all the other ones like it. They are always so much fun and I enjoy them immensely. It is safe to say the others who join feel the same way. Thank you for all the hard work you put into it all! Also, thank you to @photogirl894 for being an awesome beta reader and supportive friend. I don't know if I would have finished this fic on time if she hadn't helped me through all the rough spots by her encouraging words. Bestie, you read everything but the ending...I hope you like it <3

The decree is written, now, let the story unfold.

“As a father, you couldn’t ask for a better place to raise a child.”

You’d heard Shep say these words to Hunter your first day on Pabu, and you had to admit, it made your heart flutter a little bit. You’d fallen hard for Hunter a long time ago but duty always got in the way. At first, you hadn’t realized just how much you cared for him during the Clone War, serving as their medic, until Hunter received a shot in the chest. It was then that you realized, or rather were honest with yourself, that your friendship was always more than just a friendship. Almost losing him gave you a clarity and an honesty with yourself that you needed, but that didn’t make things easy. In fact, they made them harder.

Because now you knew how YOU felt, but you had NO IDEA how he felt. Every day, you’d face a new challenge, a new battle, overcome insurmountable odds against the Separatists on top secret missions and won. Every night, you’d have a heart to heart with Hunter, talking about things that made him laugh, made you laugh, things that made you cry, or things that upset him. 

But never unburying that heavy secret locked away in your heart. 

You considered yourself brave in many aspects but not when it came to problems with the heart. You could tell Hunter anything and everything, except how you felt about him. Instead, you’d find little things every day to show him you loved him. You’d fix his caf the way he liked it, you’d make sure the others were considerate of his sense, you listened to him when he wanted to rant, you showed him you trusted him. You were his shoulder to lean on, his unofficial right hand man. Technically, Crosshair filled those shoes but not always. You tried to be the head of reason when the boys fought and patched them up when they were done arguing. 

Then the Clone War ended with fateful Order 66. Your world turned upside down and even though circumstances were different, your situation was the same. 

That secret would have to be pried out of your cold dead hands. 

You’d been on the run, constantly in fear for your lives and that of the child in your care. You’d started to love her as your own daughter, and you could see Hunter did too. You’d seen Hunter with Cut and Suu’s children before, but somehow, this was different. He’d cared for her as a father would. And that made your heart melt more than you ever thought it could. 

Now, here on Pabu, having something that resembled peace and a chance at a life, was it time? Could you actually have the dream you despaired of. The dream which was a nightly comfort but in the morning seemed unreachable as something you thought you couldn’t hope for? 

Shep’s words teased you. Taunted you. Pried at you. 

Perhaps, perhaps it was time to open your heart? 

“So have you reconsidered staying?”

“For soldiers, putting down roots is an occupational hazard.” 

“Is that all you are? Soldiers?”

You’d seen the thoughtful look on Hunter’s face. It was the one he made when he was considering something. There was no contention, just thoughtful pondering. 

Somehow, some way, that moment spurred you and you worked up the courage. 

Hunter sat in the cockpit, swirling his knife. You approached and leaned against the door. You’d love to sit there and watch that for hours. You smiled a little to yourself, waiting for him to recognize your presence so as to not scare him into a mistake (not that he’d ever but…better be safe than sorry.) 

“Echo said he’s on his way. Will be here in a few rotations.” he said without looking up. “Omega will be glad to see him.”

“Yeah, she misses him, the poor kid.”

Sheaving his knife, he turned to you. 

“So, what can I help you with?”

“Oh, you know, just checking in on my Sargeant. You’ve been in here all day.” You placed some fruit native to Pabu in front of him. You never could remember the name, but you’d noticed he liked them. 

“Thanks,” he gave half a smile while you took the seat next to him. “What kind of trouble are Wrecker and Omega getting into?”

“Ohhhh probably best not to know right now. Just enjoy the few moments of peace while you can.”

He chuckled and cut into the fruit.

“Soooooo” your heart pounded. You were actually going to do it. You got this…just had to breathe and remain steady, it’d be ok. 

Hunter gave you a side eye, silently offering you a piece of the fruit. Kriff, he can tell. You tried to slow your heart best you could. 

“So.” He prompted you.

You laughed. “I heard Shep the other day. Something about settling down…ever think about it?”

He sighed. “More than you know. I honestly don’t know what to do about it. I’d like to but… It’s … complicated.”

“Ever think about marrying a pretty woman and having a family? Raising Omega somewhere safe where she’d be happy…”

He huffed a little. 

“Who’d I marry? Please don’t suggest the woman Wrecker’s friend was trying to set me up with.” 

At the words, the muscles in your face felt heavy and turned sour. The twinkle in your eye went out and the joy in your demeanor dissolved. 

An empty smile remained on your face. No indication to the outsider that anything had changed. But Hunter wasn’t an outsider. He knew you inside and out. 

Who’d I marry? You weren’t even a consideration. You weren’t on the list. Of course you wouldn’t be. It’d be foolish for you to think that. Why’d you hope in the first place? You should have known better. 

Swallowing hard, you bit back tears and forced a laugh. 

You had Hunter’s full attention now. He sat up straight and leaned forward a bit. 

He immediately sensed the change of demeanor. Your heart rate plummeted but beat hard. Your focus was gone, staring into nothing. Even if it was just for a millisecond, he’d have noticed it, but it lasted longer than that. 

Your hollow laugh filled the cabin.   

He knew he messed up.

Hunter moved to speak again but it was too late. You’d gotten up and moved toward the door. 

“Well um, I should go check on Omega and Wrecker and see what they’re up to before they do too much damage. Yeah, yeah…”

The next moment you were out of the cabin and down the ramp without a second look behind you. 

Kriff. He had to fix this. 

He almost went after you. He almost made it out the ship, but an incoming transmission stopped him. This could be the one he was waiting for. He looked longingly out to where he saw you hugging yourself, making your way slowly across the shipyard, and went back inside the ship. 

Kark it all. This’d better be important, Echo.

Tech was gone. Omega was taken. Crosshair a prisoner. Echo abandoned them, again. It was just you, Wrecker and Hunter now. A ship once filled to bursting with life and light, warm with the love and laughter shared between its walls, was now cold with an emptiness, a magnanimous devoid maw that the ship had never known before. 

Tech was dead. Crosshair was gone. Omega was taken. 

He was lost. 

Hunter might as well have added you to the list of lost as well, because even though you were physically on the ship, you weren’t with him. You were distant. Gone. In every way possible other than physical. You’d done your best to keep Wrecker and himself together. You’d been the same insurmountable strength you’d always been for them to lean on. You were being the strong one for them because you knew they couldn’t right now. He was angry, frustrated, focused and lost all in one but didn’t know where to direct that energy. As always, you came through. You acted the same as how you did throughout the entire Clone War, except not. The actions were all there, but there was a lost life to it. 

A lost love. 

And it was his fault. 

Though you were strong, you weren’t invincible. 

During the day you’d serve them. Got them food, made sure they rested, used every resource imaginable to find the little lost loved one. You tried to make them laugh and smile if you could or focus on the task at hand. Completing small missions to get by was his bane, because all Hunter wanted to do was find Omega, but you brought him back to the present, reeled in his reckless side when it got to be too much. You kept track of the inventory and how and when to push on. 

But every night he’d hear you silently cry yourself to sleep. 

You’d go and comfort Wrecker, then you’d offer the best gesture you could to him to encourage him, then you’d retire to your bed, broken down by the day. Tired, exhausted, empty. 

He saw it. And he caused it. 

And he hated himself for it. 

He’d lost you in a hasty, foolish sentence. One he’d said without much forethought. One he said because he was afraid if he’d said too much, or given any indication of the deeper feelings he had for you, you’d have rejected him and he’d lose you entirely. He thought he could be your friend. You deserved so much more. So much more than himself and what he could offer. He’d wanted to stay your friend so that way, even though he couldn’t have you, you’d be happy. He’d make sure that whoever he was, the man you’d marry would give you all the love he couldn’t. 

Turns out he was wrong.  

You did return his feelings and he broke you.

He should have gone after you, but he didn’t. He thought he’d have time. He thought he could do it when you’d return to the ship and he could sit down with you uninterrupted but he was wrong, so wrong. Echo arrived and in moments, though he didn’t know it, his life turned upside down. When the mission was declared, his focus turned to that. 

He should have talked to you. He should have let you know how he felt. 

But the manner of your hurt shifted. You were no longer hurt, but cold. 

Perhaps you didn’t want him to love you anymore. He didn’t know what to do. So much was wrong. So much that shouldn’t have been, was now his reality. 

In truth, you DID deserve more than him. Perhaps this was for the best. This hurt would pass and you’d meet the one you were supposed to be with. You could get over this fancy for him and live an actual life with someone else. 

The thought made his stomach churn and threatened to vomit, but perhaps, that’s what was meant to be. 

After all, sometimes to love someone you had to let them go. And Omega, she needed him right now, fully focused on nothing else but finding her. 

It was late in the night watch, Hunter sat alone staring at the broken pair of goggles and a plush toy that belonged to the child of the ship. His child, not by blood but by choice. 

Taken from him in a cruel twist of fate. 

He closed his eyes and leaned back in the chair. Hunter wasn’t normally one for crying but he felt close to it now. He didn’t know what to do, but he knew Omega took priority over himself. He HAD to find her. Bring her home. Oh Force, what was Hemlock doing to her?

He felt his head start to pound and his brow furrowed. 

It hurt so much to love. This was love, wasn’t it? After all, what would he know? All he knew of it was what was in the novels and holofilms…

Something cold touched his head and he jumped in surprise. Opening his eyes, he found you had taken a few steps back surprised, with a blanket and an ice pack in hand. 

It didn’t go unnoticed you’d had the scent of fresh tears on your hands. 

“I’m sorry, I thought you were in one of your uncomfortable sleep cycles.” You offered gently. “You looked like you had a headache so I brought you this.” You shook the ice pack. 

Hunter sat up and rubbed his head. “I…can’t sleep.”

He looked down. It was so hard to keep your gaze. His throat tightened and tears sprung against his will. All he could do was sigh, long and heavy. 

Hunter was silent, not knowing what to say. He tried opening his mouth a few times but closed it at every attempt, frustrated. 

You slowly drew near him, considerate as you always were. Giving him a chance to stop you if he wanted or needed, but he didn’t. You crouched down in front of him and took his hands. 

A shock of surprise sprung his head up immediately and sent a shiver through his body. His brain registered your hands were cold and instinctively he moved to warm them, covering them completely with his own. But his mind was fully focused on your face. 

Your eyes glittered with unshed tears and your mouth had a half, crooked smile. A ghost of the one you’d had before. But there was something in your gaze he’d missed, he’d longed for. 

It was ‘that’ look. 

You hadn't looked at him like that in a long time. 

There was a warmth and a love aflame. A gentleness that hadn’t been there these long past few weeks.  

If eyes were truly the window to the soul, he’d seen that the embers were dying, but not gone. 

You squeezed his hand. 

“We’ll find her. I promise.” 

There was such a conviction in your voice, determination. A rawness that almost freighted him. A testament to the power you had. The power of your will and spirit. The power of your determination. One of the reasons he loved you so much. One of the elements in your looks that he yearned to see again after missing it for so long. 

He squeezed your hands. 

“Thank you for everything.” He swallowed hard, voice now scratchy and sore. 

You nodded and stood, pulling your hands from his. You placed the pack on his forehead and placed the blanket on him in two swift motions and made to go. You were fast, but not too fast for him. You’d tried to retreat, but Hunter jumped and grabbed your arms, centering you to himself. 

A surprised look crossed your face and he saw you searching him, wondering. 

“We need to talk.”

You looked away, tears starting to gather again, a breath catching in your throat wanting to break free. 

Hunter cupped your face with his hand and slowly, softly turned your gaze back to him. 

“Please.”

You nodded, but then looked away again. 

“Ok, but not now.” Your voice was heavy and empty. That void look entered your eyes, extinguishing the flame that was there before. 

“No, you should get some sleep, you look exhausted. You’re always looking after us. Tonight, take care of yourself, yeah?” He rubbed his thumb against your cheek, whipping away a tear that escaped. “Tomorrow.”

You nodded. “Tomorrow.”  

Lifting the blanket you’d brought for him, Hunter placed it over your shoulders with a reassuring squeeze then turned back to his chair, cradling the ice pack to his forehead. 

Tomorrow came, but started off all wrong. Emergency lights flashed and sirens blared. The Marauder made an emergency landing on the treacherous mountainous planet below. The hyperdrive malfunctioned and threw you out of hyperspace. It was a tumultuous, uncontrolled landing but Hunter managed with minimal damage to the exterior of the ship. The haul was a little banged up, but other than that, the smoking hyperdrive was the focus of your concern.

There was no Tech to fix the ship now. You were on your own.

“Do you think you can fix it?” Hunter looked at you worriedly. You’d helped Tech plenty of times in the past. You considered yourself pretty capable with all the training you received from him. 

Taking a look around, you carefully considered. 

“I think so, but it’s going to take time. This superficial stuff I’m not too worried about. We’ll have to make port somewhere soon anyway for supplies. We’re low on everything.” You’d been looking at the inventory the last few days and the lists were concerning. “I think we have enough credits to get by until we can do a job and earn more.” You rubbed your forehead. “I’ve been running numbers on how to keep ourselves sustained without needing to distract ourselves from our mission with a whole bunch of side missions anymore. I think it’ll work but you’re going to have to trust me. But I digress. I’ll patch up the hyperdrive which seems to be the main problem. I’ve got a weird feeling about this place, I don’t want to be here too long. Weather might not hold out for extensive repairs either.”

“Alright, we’ll discuss this when I get back. I’ll scout the area and see what we’re dealing with.” Hunter turned to leave, then paused. Half looking back he spoke: “And, I do. Trust you, I mean.” 

With that he put his helmet on and shouted to Wrecker. 

“Keep her safe. I’ll be right back.”

It’d been an hour. And Hunter wasn’t back. 

Whipping the sweat from your forehead you heaved a big breath.

“I think that’ll do it Wreck. Where’s Hunt?” 

Wrecker looked nervous. “Not back yet.” 

You looked at your wrist chrono and raised your eyebrows in surprise. Highly unusual.

“Ok, I’ll go look for him. Protect the ship.” 

“We should stay together.” Wrecker added quickly, “I’ll come with you.”

“I would like that too but at this moment that’s a luxury we can’t afford. We have to split up.”

Wrecker groaned. “Bad things ALWAYS happen when we split up.”

You softened and patted his shoulder comfortingly. 

“I know, big guy, I know. But the less we argue, the sooner we get Hunt back.”

Wrecker paused and nodded. “Ok.” He sighed and took his place by the ramp of the ship. “And…..it’s good to hear you call Hunter, Hunt again…”he trailed off uncertainly, “but it’s kinda making me scared. You think he’s….?” 

Your heart clenched in realization. You didn’t think how your hurt would shed and affect others. “Oh Wrecker….” You started but he stopped you. 

“Aw Doc, I am just worried about ya. You two always meshed together, you know? So when you didn’t, and now get soft again…” He shook his head. “Get Hunter back, and everything will be ok, yeah?”

“Yeah, it will. I promise.” You started off your sentence quaking but with every word you found your conviction. It was time to go. 

“I hope you two can work things out. I always liked it that way, ya know?”

You smiled, “Yeah I do actually, and I did too.”

“Well, do you think that … whatever happened…you two can fix it?”

Your smile faltered a little bit but Wrecker didn’t see that. Really, only Hunter would have been the one to notice.

“I’ll do my best.”

With one last nod to Wrecker, you set out.

You weren’t exceptional at tracking but Hunter taught you a thing or two. 

It was time to bring Hunter home.

Hunter skirted the edge of the cliff carefully. His foot set a few loose rocks tumbling into the unknown. Knife unsheathed and corned against the endless void beneath him, he glared at his enemy. Hunter met these villains almost as soon as he left the ship. It didn’t take him long to realize their harmful intentions and led them away from the ship, hoping to buy you as much time as he could to fix the ship. He’d taken out ten of these bandits already, but this one was of a higher status, he could tell by the large hat he wore and more expensive weapons he possessed. He’d be more of a challenge but that would only make it more fun. 

Hunter growled and lifted his knife in the ready. Blood and sweat dripped from his face from the few scratches and scrapes he had. 

He was prepared for anything.

“Get away from him!” An agonized voice filled with terror screamed. 

Your voice. 

Hunter’s heart dropped to his stomach and for the first time since the crash, terror entered his veins. He was prepared for everything, except that.

Garnishing your blade, you swiped the air to show the mysterious stranger you were serious. “Leave him alone!”

Hunter’s throat closed up. You didn’t have your blaster, and while still decent with the blade, you weren’t ready for this yet. He hadn’t finished your training. 

“Meshla, no!” 

Hunter reached out, distracted only for a moment but a moment is all it took. In the second he tried to get in between you and the enemy, a kick to his stomach sent Hunter over the side

“Hunter!” You screamed after him in terror. 

What you didn’t see was the flip he made or how he grappled onto the rock. If only you had the enhanced senses he did, you might have heard his hard breathing, the uneven sob, and the continuous prayer that somehow you could live long enough for him to get to you. 

His heart pounded. He wanted to call for you but that’d only make things worse for you. He grunted as silently as he could. He had to get to you. 

He heard your angry grunts, the slices of knives through the air, missing their marks. He heard you yelling unintelligibly and savagely. The man’s gleeful laughter. 

Your painful cry.

No

Those were some of the longest seconds of his life. What happened? He tried to climb faster but the rock was so slippery.

Watching Hunter get shot. Finding him shot again in the same place all this time later by Cad Bane, and now seeing Hunter tumble over the edge was more than you could handle. Anger like you’d never felt it bubbling all over you, tingling your fingers and guiding your blade’s every movement with hardened focus.

No, you couldn’t lose him like this. You wouldn’t. The man was quick, practiced. But you’d had a good teacher. Now wasn’t the time to doubt. Sure, you wished your blaster had survived the raid on Ord Mantel but there was nothing you could do about that except replace it when you made port.

You tumbled, dived, parried. This demon wouldn’t win. He made a hit on your arm and you cried out. The evil, smug smile he had was enough to refocus you instantly. Jumping for him unexpectedly, you caught him by surprise. You pushed your entire body against his in a close roll.

And your blade found a home in his heart. 

Breathing hard, it took you a moment to realize…you’d won. You defeated him! Hunter would be so proud.

Hunter!

Diving for the cliff, you slid toward the edge. 

“Hunter? Hunter!”

Hunter looked up at you, face hidden behind his visor but all the emotions were spilling from his mouth. “Are you ok? Mesh’la, what the karking hells?”

“Grab my hand!” Ignoring him, you reached down. “I’ll pull you up.” 

Hunter clasped your hand but you let out a cry of agony. Collapsing in a heaping pile. You were shaking but your grip held firm.

“Mesh’la…” 

“Don’t you dare let go. Don’t you dare.” Your demand was dry and forceful, but fear spilled from every word. “Please.” Your plea was soft, broken.

“Alright.” He tightened his grip.

Tears streamed down your face as you panted, hulling him up. Hunter seemed so heavy. You’d done exercises like this before and it was a lot easier. Hunter seemed to notice your lack of strength too.

You pulled and heaved and scooted and rolled until you managed to get his body over the lump. Immediately, Hunter started his barrage on you in between heaving breaths of his own.

“What were you thinking? Don’t you know you could have gotten yourself killed?”

You got to your feet and brushed yourself off, head dizzy with emotion and adrenaline.

“Do you,” you panted, “have any idea what you did to me? Don’t start with me…”

“Oh honey, just wait until I get started—“ 

You turned to look at Hunter who also had gotten to his feet, the words registering, but sounding quite distant. Was he yelling? You weren't sure. Suddenly, your breath was knocked from your lungs and a sharp pain invaded your entire body. 

Falling to your knees, you clutched your side to find it wet and sticky, and warm. You didn't need to pull your hand away to look at it to know there was blood, yet that's what you did, and you were shocked nevertheless to find the red, sticky substance on your hands. Gasping with wide eyes, you missed Hunter’s cry of alarm.  

“You’re bleeding!”

Hunter ran over to you and caught you as you crumpled to the ground in pain. Gathering you to himself, he rested your body against his.

Tearing off his scarf from around his neck, Hunter pressed it to your wound.

“You’re losing so much blood.”

“Nah, I know exactly where it is. Here, there, and a little over there.”

“Not funny.”

“I thought it was.” you faintly chuckled. 

With a dark look, he cut the red fabric into strips and bound your abdomen tightly. 

“I’ll get you back to the ship as soon as I can, just hold on for me ok?” 

You nodded but your eyes now felt so heavy. You just wanted to sleep. 

Scooping you up, Hunter started at a full run. 

The bouncing hurt. Every pounding bounce sent fire mixed with ice through your body. Your head rolled back and your eyes shut.

“Hey, hey, cyare, look at me. Look at me! Don’t give up on me yet, please.” 

Hunter came in running. 

“Wrecker! Wrecker! Get the ship started, we’re leaving NOW!”

Wrecker didn’t miss a beat. He saw you dangling limpless in Hunter’s arms and dashed up the walkway. Wrecker tore through the room, doing the start up sequences as fast as he could then meeting Hunter in the gangway, he threw the med kit at him. 

Back in the cockpit, Wrecker took the controls. 

Placing you in his bed, Hunter slapped your face.

“I know you’re in there, wake up! Wake up! Don’t leave me now, I need you. I can’t do this without you. Omega is depending on you. You’re stronger than this, come on!”

Injecting you quickly with a stim and re-wrapping your wounds, Hunter frantically chaffed your wrists until your eyes fluttered open. 

“Hunter?” You were looking around, trying to sit up. 

“Hey, hey don’t get up.” He placed a hand on your forehead, then your pulse points. He felt you slowly but surely starting to equalize. “Just rest for a bit, ok? I’m going to stay right here if you need anything.” He pulled up a chair next to you. 

“I’m ok,” you smiled weakly, “I was so scared when I saw those tracks. I thought I’d lost you again. But you’re ok, and that’s all that matters to me.” You squeezed his hand, then let the darkness take you.

All was still and dark. The Marauder gently rocked in what would pass for the early hours of the morning, if there really could be a morning or night in space. 

All was still and quiet inside the Marauder. Wrecker was by the controls watching the ship’s course and motion beacons, Hunter was fast asleep, leaned over the bed and holding your hand. 

You on the other hand were restless. Buckets of sweat fell from your forehead. Dizzy and disoriented, even laying down, a nauseous feeling crept up your stomach into your throat. 

You wormed your hand out of Hunters, not wanting to wake him. It’d been too long since he’d gotten any sleep at all and at last the complete and utter exhaustion took him over. You pushed on the bed, attempting and failing to drag yourself up. 

You glanced at Hunter, considering only for a moment, then resurfaced your determination. No, you’d let him rest. You could do this. Grasping the blanket’s cocooning you, you attempted to untangle the heavy sheet entwining you. It was so heavy, suffocating. 

With a heaving breath, you pushed your feet off the bed and lunged your body forward.

You were standing. 

But as soon as you got up, you realized your mistake. The ship spun and the dull aches over your body were awakened. Your stomach’s pain blew its trumpet and your ears felt like balloons that were going to pop. You must have swallowed marbles because there was barely any room in your throat. 

Oh well, you could only push forward. 

Stumbling into the bathroom, you turned on the cold water. Perhaps that would help. 

The first thing Hunter noticed was his hand was cold and clammy. The lack of warmth left a devoid and empty feeling embedded with a nervous foreboding. 

Next came the darkness, which became a haze, and that haze turned into a bubble as he fought he was to consciousness. The bed in front of him was empty and Hunter could vaguely make out the things around him, noises indecipherable. He thought he heard trudging of feet scraping against the floor, the turning of a facet with the gush of water, then a loud crash, and thud with a BAM!

Instantly his body was alert. Dashing toward the source of the sound, he knew subconsciously what he’d find. Your body on the floor, sprawled out and drained. Your face was pale as death, eyes hollow. You didn’t look like this a few hours ago? 

“Mesh’la? mesh’la! what happened? Did you hit your head? Why are you up?” A thousand questions spilled from his mouth in worry. 

Worming his body behind yours, he gathered you up gently. You mumbled something that was lost even to his hearing. 

Concerned, Hunter removed his gloves, and placed them on your face. 

You leaned into his warmth, shivering, unable to get warm, yet your skin felt like fire to him. You were burning. Beads of sweat danced on your forehead as large as the tears that fell from your eyes.

“Why didn’t you wake me?” Cradling you now, he carefully wrapped himself around your body. This allowed you to curl in on yourself and tuck yourself in further to his chest.

“‘M sry.”

Kriff, you could barely speak. 

“Don’t be sorry. I got you now.”

“Hunter, I-I can’t hear you too well.”

A wall of realization hit him hard. Kark it, he knew what happened. 

The fever, the swelling, the loss of balance and your voice, not to mention your hearing? 

You had an infection. 

Fear invaded Hunter’s senses. He’d never been sick like this, having super immune genetics (one thing to thank the long necks for he supposed). But now, how could he help if he didn’t know what you were going through exactly? 

This wasn’t the first time you were sick like this. He remembered the story you told of your childhood, and how one winter, you fell through the ice which resulted in something like this. The incident left you vulnerable and weakened, and he worried about you. 

You were tough and fought it out. But what if you couldn’t fight this one off? Would your second brush with death be enough to claim you?

Tears swelled your eyes and poured onto your cheeks. Small sobs started to wrack your body as emotion overtook you.

“I…sorry…don’t burnden…’Mega, gotta find…” 

“Hey, hey, it’s ok, I got you, I got you. You’re not a burden. We’ll get you better then we’ll find her. Hey, I got you, it’s ok.” Hunter had no idea how he managed to sound so calm. He’d never seen you like this before and it terrified him. Your small sniffles and hiccups reminded him of a small child. Every nerve and essence of his being screamed at him to protect you. 

“I’ll get you some water, I’ll be back. You have to stay hydrated.”

“Stay, I’ll get it.”

Hunter looked up to find Wrecker looking down at the two of you with a sad look in his eyes. “You should be with her.” He disappeared then returned a few minutes later with a full flask of cold water. 

Hunter brought it to your lips, but you barely swallowed any before relinquishing your strength to an empty sleep, exhausted by the struggle. 

Silence bore down on the three of you as Hunter and Wrecker looked on while you slept an uncomfortable sleep.

“I knew we should have stuck together.” Wrecker said sadly at last, not looking at Hunter. “I told her I’d come with her…”

“It’s not your fault, Wreck.”

“Bad things happen when we split up, I told her that….”

“This is all my fault.” Hunter hung his head. “I—”

“That kind of talk isn’t going to help her, Hunt. Don’t even think that. She made up her own mind. She was scared for ya, Hunt. She even started calling you ‘Hunt’ again.”

Hunter looked up surprised, then back down towards you. You’d stopped that since that morning on Pabu. You’d been formal with him afterward. It was either Sargeant or Hunter. 

He shifted then lifted you in his arms, bringing you back to the bed. He set you down then ran his fingers through your damp hair, worry evident in his eyes. 

“We need to get her to a hospital, Wreck. I don’t know what to do…Without Tech…I’m really scared right now.”

Wrecker placed a large, comforting hand on Hunter’s shoulder. “Then we go. We’ll get her better, Hunt. Don’t worry. I think we have a few of those fake IDs left Tech made. We’ll make something work.”

Swallowing hard, Hunter nodded.

Instead of letting go, Wrecker’s grip tightened. In one swift motion, Hunter was enveloped in a hug. If he was being honest, he didn’t mind in the least. 

Hunter sat by you in silence as the ship flew through hyperspace toward the hospital, watching your fitful sleep. Your forehead was creased in pain and your mouth turned into a pout. One hand carefully stroked your sweat soaked hair, the other intertwined with yours.

The waiting was the worst part. Not being able to do anything to help or accept, fate could only take its course and he could only stand by and watch. The worst enemies were the ones he couldn’t protect you from and he hated that. He couldn’t fight the infection with his blade, or take away your pain by shooting the cause with a blaster bolt. 

He leaned his forehead against yours and swallowed a sigh. Was this agony what you'd felt when he'd been shot? He remembered what delicate care you took of him. You'd been more than thoughtful, and tried not to show your concerns but he saw them anyway; just as he could always see you. But there was something else there that at the time he hadn't realized. And now he hoped he hadn't realized it too late. 

“You asked me before if I’d settle down like Shep asked……………and in my dreams, yes. I always wanted to, even before he asked, with you. It was you, it was always and only you.”

Silence was your response. 

 “Please, don’t leave me now. I already lost the others, I can’t lose you too.”

The steady rhythm of your heart was promise enough for him right now, he had to hold onto hope. 

“We can take it slow. Take our time. We don’t have to rush into anything but please, please stay with me and I’ll be yours for the rest of our lives. That’s my promise to you. I–I love you. Always have, always will.”

Perhaps if he’d hadn’t been so tired, he would have noticed the slight squeeze of his hand you have him. 

Hunter walked into the hospital carrying you wearing civilian clothing hoping he looked more inconspicuous than he felt. He approached the nurse at the front desk. 

“Excuse me, my wife needs help. She had an accident…”

“Chain codes.” the nurse said flatly without looking up but holding out her hand. 

Hunter fished them out and gave them to her. 

“It’s urgent, she needs to see a doctor ri–”

“Just sit down over there and the nurse will be with you shortly.”

“But she needs a doctor NOW!”

The nurse glanced up annoyed. 

“Keep that up and she’ll have to wait a full rotation, buddy.”

Hunter glared but didn’t say a word. Normally he would have fought back harder but with your life on the line, he couldn’t find it in himself to do it. So he did as he was bid, and took a seat in the waiting area. 

You blinked your eyes open with a smile. 

“Hey Handsome.” 

You reached up for his face, and he took your hand in his and gave it a quick kiss. 

“Hey,” Hunter kept his voice low, giving you a quick smile before making a quick survey of the area, “to catch you up real quick, we’re married. You’re my wife and we took you here after an accident on our farm. You’re going to be ok, ok?” 

His eyes darted across your face, looking, searching, for any indication that his words would come true. Even here and now on the brink of being saved, he felt like you’d suddenly vanish and be taken from him. 

He didn’t know what he expected from you, a nod of recognition maybe? But he didn’t get that. Instead, you chuckled. 

“Married? Already? So much for wanting to take it slow, Hunter.” 

To his surprise, a laugh burst from his lips, a smile replacing the worry for a second. He shook his head. Even now, you were trying to look out for him, making him laugh while you were the one who needed help. 

“Always looking out for me, aren’t you?” His voice was warm and full. The deepness of his voice like chocolate on your sore ears, not that he’d know that of course. All he could hope for was that you could hear the depth of love and gratitude he had in such a few words. 

You smiled, “always have, always will, I promise you that.” 

Hunter heard the nurse approach and looked up, only to be faced with a jaw dropping phenomenon. 

“How can I help you today? Wait…Hunter?”

It was Nala, your old classmate.

“Nala?” Hunter repeated, stunned. “You work here?”

“Yes…” her eyes drifted down to you. 

An unsettled feeling came over Hunter. You hadn’t been in touch with anyone since Order 66. Whose side was Nala on?

He didn’t have to wonder long when her face went white and she dropped down on one knee to be at your level. 

“What do you need? Let me assess her and see what I can do.”

Nala came running up carrying various vials and all but shoved them in Hunter’s pockets. 

“Give her this as soon as possible. It’s safer for all of you if you just take it and administer it on your ship. I got word of Imperials coming here shortly. I’ve listed instructions on how to give it to her safely. You should go before someone recognizes you and hands you over. Goodbye, and good luck. Take good care of my friend. When she gets better, tell her to give me a call!”

With that, Nala turned and left, trying her hardest not to give an impression of concern. 

Back on the ship, Hunter did as instructed. After making sure you were carefully placed in bed and made as comfortable as possible, he enlisted Wrecker’s help as soon as they’d jumped to hyperspace. Hunter knew Wrecker wasn’t going to like it, but there wasn’t another way. 

You’ll want to give this one to her first. It’ll regulate her body so she can take the following medications. It’ll help her breathe easier and adjust to what’s coming…it won’t appear so right away so don’t worry. You’re going to need to give this to her in quick succession so don’t wait to see the effects.

Hunter injected the hypo into your arm. 

This one is the IV with the antibiotics. Get her hooked up quickly and make sure the bag is drained before you take it out. 

He rubbed your arm and inserted the needle.

This one, inject into her chest near her heart. This one will hurt the most. 

This one, he couldn’t do. 

“This…is going to hurt.”

“I know.” You stared at the ceiling, trying to catch your breath and collect your courage. “It’s ok.”

Of course you knew, you were a medic. He would have cringed at his own words, but he couldn’t help it. His own fear mocked him and he wasn’t ashamed of it. Pain was pain, and nothing could make him like it or want that for you. All he could do was prepare you in any way he could. 

Your breathing was labored, huffing your breaths, greedy for air, gluttonously swallowing in as much as your lungs would let you. 

“Tell me.” You looked into his eyes, trying to focus, “tell me about it? I can’t seem to remember anything from our big day. What happened? Who was there? How did it go….How did I look?” You huffed a little laugh at the last question, “nevermind, don’t answer that.” Your laugh caused a coughing fit to follow. 

Hunter gripped you firmer as your body racked, fear unmasked in his eyes. 

Shutting your own, you tried to center yourself. 

“Crosshair probably made trouble, didn't he. He and Wreck competed to see who could eat the most cake and got sick, right?” Your voice was nothing other than a whisper, but Hunter could still pick up the dream-like tilt in your voice. The little smile as if it was a real memory, breaking across your lips. 

“Of course, would you expect anything less?”

Another chuckle turned into a gasp of air. 

Hunter kept his gaze on you as he spoke, his hand on your cheek facing him so you wouldn’t have to see what was to come. Rubbing gentle circles in your cheek and wiping away tears, he tried to speak without a shake in his voice. He didn’t know if he succeeded, but ever after that, he’d remember the images burned in his mind both, of the story he was telling and the raw reality of your pain. 

“Tech filmed the entire thing; we’ll have to rewatch it; would you believe Echo had more champagne to drink than anyone? He was so happy the entire night. He was also the only one next to Wrecker to cry.”

You smiled through gritted teeth.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. You looked beautiful all dressed in white…” he stumbled over his words now as Wrecker garnished the needle, “your dress dazzled with little jewel thingies and you liked spinning in it because it reminded you of a waterfall or a butterfly’s wing. I couldn’t keep my eyes off you. And when you walked toward me, I was a mess, because I knew I was the luckiest man in the world, and I couldn’t ever have imagined you more beautiful.”

You swallowed hard. 

“Omega couldn’t stop smiling or singing; and when the music at the Pabu sunsets starts and the orange sun starts setting in the sky, it hit you just right and…”

You screamed as muffled of a scream as you could, but it rang in Hunter’s head so loud it bounced around until he felt like he was going to be sick.  

“Aaand, and, when the sun set, we resaid our vows under the stars, just you and me. Always, just you and me. I’ve got you, it’s ok.”

Your eyes rolled back and all went dark.

Breathing never felt so sweet. You smiled, feeling like you could laugh and cry at the same time. The pain was gone and you felt great! Energy was surging, and life felt beautiful again. Despite the illness, you remembered everything that happened with vivid accuracy. Though your eyes were closed, your mind was very awake and registered everything in perfect memory.

Not just the pain, but the sweet moments too. Hunter taking such good care of you, his poor fear and concern, the thoughts he confessed because he thought you couldn't hear.

You felt the urge to stretch but couldn't move. Opening your eyes and looking around, the sight made your heart melt. Hunter was curled up half beside and half behind you. His body was curled in around yours, holding you as if he feared when he woke, you wouldn't be there. 

Your heart was gripped by the softness of the gesture and you didn't want it to end.

You reached your hand up, running your fingers down his face and neck. The touch was enough to wake him. He stirred, then jolted with realization.

“You're awake!!!” Tears gathered in his eyes as he cupped your face with both his hands. “You're ok.” He smiled and swallowed so hard you could hear it. You embraced him, burying your face in his neck.

“I love you.” 

You froze. You didn't expect him to actually confess to you while you were awake. Hunter sensed your hesitancy and started to pull away, but before he could move an inch, you were grabbing him toward yourself again. 

“I love you, too. So much.”

“Can…we talk? I can't wait anymore.”

“Of course.”

Hunter turned shy. He found his hands extremely interesting as he fiddled with the blanket rim. His face turned red and he tripped over his words.

“I only said what I did because besides you….I wouldn't want to marry any other woman. Who would I even marry…if it wasn't you?”

He paused briefly before continuing.

“I always felt like you deserved way better than me…I can't offer you anything but myself and that's not much of a gift.”

“Hunter! No! You—” 

He gave you a sheepish look and cut you off.

“And I'm so sorry for everything that happened, for how I hurt you. I should have gone to you sooner, I should have…”

Now it was your turn to cut him off, but instead of with words, you captured his mouth with yours in a kiss 

You felt his shock, which made you smile, and soon he joined and returned your soft show of love, holding you even closer than before.

“You scared me.” Hunter said, kisses becoming needier. 

“You scared me first!” You countered, meeting his veracity. “More than once!”

When you both stopped for breath, you settled back in his embrace. 

“Hunter, you're all I could ever need or want. The gift of yourself is more precious than anything or anyone in the galaxy, and that's more than I deserve. All I've ever wanted was the war to end so we could have a family of our own, your brothers all be near us if they're not with us while we raise Omega and children of our own.”

Hunter's face darkened. 

“I wasn't strong enough to protect you or keep this family together. I lost Omega.”

“You didn't lose her, Hunter. She made a choice. She didn't want to lose you, and neither did I. You don't control the galaxy or have some responsibility for everything that happens. It's ok to breathe, Hunt, and let go. All we can do is move onward and face the galaxy together, just like we always do.”

Hunter nodded, the shadow slowly falling from his face, replaced with something gentler. 

“And that story I told before, about you in the white dress?”

“Yeah?” You blushed sheepishly, recalling with a bubbling laugh trapped inside your chest. 

“What do you say we make that real?” Leaning closer, he whispered in your ear, “I want to see you all in white, for real. I want to be yours, only yours, forever. I want to have a family, with you and only you. My brothers can all live close by and we can all be together. We can raise Omega the way she deserves to be raised…and I can love you, the way you deserve to be loved.”

“Yes! Oh yes! My sergeant, I am yours and only yours, now and forever!”

Filled with new determination, you smiled even wider, gripped his hand and got out of bed.

“Come on, now, love, let's go get our kid. Time to bring our family home. Time to start healing and growing.”

"The Empire be warned, we're coming."

Dividers by @stars-n-spice @ve-ti-ver and @djarrex

[scary-grace]

what I don't remember now (part iii/final) - a shigaraki x f!reader fic

Tomura's life doesn't end when his death sentence is handed down, and he knows damn well that he's innocent. It won't be long before one of his appeals proves it, and he can come home -- back to his friends, and back to you, the girlfriend who stood by him through the trial. But death row is a nightmare Tomura can't wake up from, and as the years behind bars begin to pile up, Tomura starts to question if it really matters whether he did it. If he'll ever be free. And if you and the other people who love him have forgotten him for good. (cross-posted to Ao3)

This is the prequel fic to 'if my heart was a house', and covers what's happened to Tomura since the last time he and the reader saw each other. I did a not-insignificant amount of research into the criminal justice system in Japan, specifically on prison conditions, prisoner treatment, and the administration of the death penalty. There is some dark and potentially triggering content, especially in later chapters(execution, suicide attempt, etc) so please be wary! dividers/banners by @cafekitsune

part i part ii

part iii/final

sixteen

Chisaki has a new lawyer. Tomura knows because the guards are talking about it. Bitching about it, really. Tomura’s fine with anything that makes their lives harder, even if it’s improving things to Chisaki, who’s been a pain in the ass the entire time he’s been on death row. The guards don’t like Chisaki’s lawyer. “Fucking traitor. Who does he think he is?”

“Some pissant little bastard with a savior complex. Has he even met a murderer in his life?”

“He used to be a prosecutor,” one of the older guards says. He glances Tomura’s way, realizes Tomura’s watching and raises his hand to his baton. “This isn’t a peep show, 230385. Eyes on your business.”

Tomura’s business is giving himself a bath, which is hard to do thoroughly when his left hand is so fucked up, and the only ones getting a peep show are the guards, who are supposed to be watching him to make sure he doesn’t try anything. Tomura’s never been clear on what they think he’s going to try. He goes back to trying to wash his hair, facing away from the guards, and listening to every word they say. He’s not going to look, but he can’t turn off his ears.

“Yeah, I heard. His boss was the best in the business. What the fuck happened to him?”

“He probably read some weepy story about how hard life is for the inmates. He should think about how hard it is for the people they killed. He doesn’t have a clue –”

“He does,” the older guard says. “He’s been here before. I gave him the tour.”

That rings a faint bell in Tomura’s head, but not enough to capture his attention. He’s running out of time to shower, and there are parts of his body that he can’t stand thinking about, let alone touching. He closes his eyes and chases a few faint scraps of memory. There were times when he didn’t hate being touched, even by himself. There were times when being touched was all he wanted, and there was someone who wanted to touch him. Someone with warm hands, hands that were strong even though they were smaller than his. Someone –

Someone who’s long gone, just like everything else from before. The guards’ voices filter back in, and Tomura focuses on that instead. “Anyway, Chisaki’s making a mistake,” the older guard concludes. “If he thinks anyone cares about what happens to him – after what he did – he’s out of his mind. And if his new lawyer causes too much trouble, every prisoner in this place will wish we’d killed him the second he set foot on the block.”

Tomura already wishes that. Chisaki’s the only other inmate who still knows Morse code, and he’s constantly hassling Tomura, trying to get him to respond to whatever stupid idea he’s got in his head. He’s also damn sure that Chisaki’s actually guilty, because Chisaki goes the route of trying to justify the fucked-up things he did rather than claiming that he didn’t do them. Chisaki and Sensei would probably get along, just like Chisaki and the prison doctor would probably get along if the prison doctor wasn’t the one conducting the cavity searches. If Tomura could murder one person in the prison, other than the warden and the doctor, Chisaki would be his top choice.

And at the same time, Chisaki didn’t put Tomura here. Chisaki’s not the reason why Tomura’s been forgotten by everyone who cared about him. If it comes down to siding with Chisaki or the guards, Tomura knows who he’s lining up with.

He gets out of the shower on time, but he’s slow getting back into his clothes, and the guards are rough on him while they hustle him back to the cell block. They’re still bitching about the lawyer, and the older guard turns to Tomura as they’re unlocking the cell, pitching his voice to carry. “What do you think about Chisaki’s little lawyer friend?”

Chisaki must be awake, must be listening. It’s his turn to shower next, and as much as Tomura hates Chisaki, he hates the guards more. He doesn’t answer until he’s already stepped into his cell, until it’s already shut behind him. “I hope his lawyer fucks you sideways.”

seventeen

Tomura’s used to holes in his memory. Some of them have been there all along, so familiar that he doesn’t question their presence. Some of them he can see into, if he tries, if someone asks him to look. Some of them are just black. And some of them are important. What happened during his interrogation in the detention center, the one where he supposedly confessed to killing his entire family. What happened the night of the murders, before he woke up in the hospital. Not remembering is normal. Tomura knows the drill.

Which is why he knows something’s wrong this time. Not remembering isn’t supposed to hurt.

But it does hurt. Tomura’s whole body hurts, and even as he wrestles himself awake through the pain, he’s aware that nothing else around him is right. The air isn’t cold. The light that leaks in under his eyelids is gentle, not harsh. He’s not lying on concrete, on top of a futon so thin it might as well not be there at all. He’s in a bed with soft blankets pulled over him and a pillow behind his head, and in spite of the fact that he’s more comfortable than he’s been in years, he’s in excruciating pain.

The pain radiates everywhere, but Tomura can pinpoint a source. His left hand is cramped so tight that he can’t move his fingers. Something about it feels wrong. Off-balance. When he forces his eyes open, he can’t focus them well enough to see what’s wrong. And even if he could see, he can’t lift his hand to eye-level for a look. As bad as the pain is, it’s worse when it’s cut with unease. Something’s wrong. He needs to figure out what it is before it gets worse.

Tomura tries to sit up, then slumps back, hissing in pain – only for the bed behind him to shift, tilting to support him. He swears in shock, cringes away, and then curses with pain again. Why can’t he shut up? No one’s given him permission to open his mouth. Any second he’s going to take a guard’s baton to the gut. Tomura’s head is spinning, and he can’t stop making the stupid, pained sounds that only come out when he’s too confused to keep them in.

“You can press that button,” an unfamiliar voice says, and something’s nudged against Tomura’s right hand, the one that’s not twisted in agony. “For pain relief. It’s automatic.”

Tomura jerks his hand away. He turns his head in the direction of the voice. It doesn’t sound like a guard. There’s a tone the guards use when they talk to Tomura and the other inmates, and whoever this is, they aren’t using it. Maybe talking won’t get him hit. “Where am I?”

“You’re at a hospital. I’m not allowed to tell you where, but it is a civilian hospital,” the stranger says. Tomura’s vision isn’t clearing fast enough to give him a good look at the stranger’s face. “How much do you remember?”’

Tomura wants to laugh. “If I could remember, I wouldn’t be here,” he grits out. “You know more than I do.”

“For the last two years, the government has been required to report any inmate injuries or illnesses severe enough to require hospitalization,” the stranger says. “The organization I work for, One’s Justice, responds to those reports.”

“So what?”

“So,” the stranger says carefully, “when you were hospitalized five days ago with sepsis stemming from gangrene of your left index and middle fingers, it was reported to someone. To us. And now I’m here.”

This sounds like bullshit. Tomura’s out of it on sepsis, whatever the fuck that is, but even now he knows when someone’s lying to him. “Why do you care what happens to me?”

“Because you’re a human,” the stranger says. It’s quiet for a second, other than the hum of the hospital’s fluorescent lights and the steady buzz of the machines tracking Tomura’s heart, lungs, everything. “And, um – you might not remember this, but we’ve met before. My name is Midoriya Izuku.”

Now it makes sense. “We didn’t meet,” Tomura says. His mouth feels like sandpaper and tastes even worse, and the pain radiating through his body gives him zero incentive to check his anger. “You learned all about what they do to us in there and you walked away.”

“I couldn’t do anything then. I can do something now,” Midoriya says. Tomura blinks until Midoriya’s face swims into focus – wide-eyed, freckled, topped with messy green hair. “I founded One’s Justice to combat the human rights abuses occurring in maximum security and on death row. I’m here to take your statement and open an investigation on your behalf.”

“You’re out of your mind.” Tomura looks away from Midoriya. “I don’t remember what happened, and if I did, it wouldn’t matter.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Yes, I do.” Tomura twists away from Midoriya, jarring his left arm in the bargain, and a sheet of agony drops over him. “You’re stupid if you think this matters to anyone. All that matters to me is what they’re going to do to me for talking to you – so even if I did remember – fuck!”

The pain relief button taps against Tomura’s right hand again. “Based on the doctors’ assessment, the initial injury to your hand occurred some time ago,” Midoriya says. “I have two sources – a former death row inmate and a current client – confirming that a guard purposely crushed it eleven years ago. Pre-surgical scans revealed at least three old fractures, none of which healed properly, and none of which could have been treated with the supplies on hand in a prison hospital.”

Tomura hears the sound of papers shuffling. “One of the doctors One’s Justice works with reviewed the scans and determined that if you’d received appropriate treatment for the prior injuries, the drastic measures taken this time would have been unnecessary,” Midoriya says. “I want to take your statement, if you’ll share it. But I don’t need it to prove a violation of your human rights.”

It would be great if Midoriya shut up about the human rights thing. Tomura’s tired of having to entertain the delusion that anyone cares about it but him. “Drastic measures?”

“Your, um –” Midoriya breaks off. “Your fingers developed frostbite, then gangrene. In order to save your life, the doctors had to amputate them.”

Tomura’s been trying to lift his hand to eye level this whole time. Now he looks down at his left hand where it lays uselessly on the bed. It’s wrapped in heavy bandages, immobilized into a useless club from the middle of his forearm down, but even through the bandages, he can see what’s missing. He coughs, which hurts. Winces, which also hurts. When he speaks, he sounds like he’s out of his mind. “Both of them?”

“I’m sorry,” Midoriya says, and Tomura laughs, his voice harsh and wavering. “No, I mean it! I’m sorry that we weren’t able to do something sooner, but now that it’s been reported, we can track your recovery – and ensure you’re receiving the standard of medical care –”

“Why, so I can be healthy when they kill me?” Tomura swats the pain relief button away, so hard that it flies off the bed and clatters on the floor. “It’s not my business if you want to waste your time, but you should waste it somewhere else.”

“If it’s not your business, I can waste it wherever I want,” Midoriya says. He picks up the pain relief button and sets it down on the bed. “I’ll open an investigation on your behalf. If you receive a request to meet with me once you’re returned to prison, please accept it.”

Lawyer visits have gotten more common in the last year or two. Chisaki sees his lawyer a lot, for all the good it does him. Tomura figures he’ll say yes. It’ll be something to do. Someone to talk to. A reason to get out of his cell. He nods, hoping Midoriya will leave. Tomura needs time to think about this. Time to think about the fact that he’s down to three fingers on his left hand, and that it didn’t have to be that way. The sooner Midoriya leaves, the better.

But Tomura has a question before he goes. “I know your prison source,” he says. “Who’s the one on the outside? People don’t leave death row.”

“Sometimes they do,” Midoriya says. “My other source is Shirakumo Oboro. That’s the name he goes by now. It’s my understanding that he went by Kurogiri in prison.”

Tomura’s jaw clenches tight, only half of his own accord. “Kurogiri’s dead.”

He pictures Midoriya shaking his head. “He’s on parole,” he says. “For the last two years. I’ve met him several times, and every time, he’s insisted that I try to reach out to you.”

A chair scoots back. “Focus on getting better. You’ll hear from me soon.”

Tomura doesn’t answer, and Midoriya leaves, ending the longest conversation Tomura’s had in seventeen years. Once the door shuts behind him, Tomura shifts gingerly onto his back, staring upwards until even the soft hospital lights start to sting. Someone is investigating. Tomura lost two fingers and he’s been in the hospital for five days. Someone is at least pretending to care what happens to Tomura and people like him. Kurogiri’s alive. There’s still someone in the world who cares what happens to him, who knows what’s happened. If there’s one person – if Kurogiri hasn’t forgotten Tomura – then maybe –

Tomura fumbles blindly for the pain-relief button and presses it until his system floods with enough morphine to blunt every feeling and thought. He’s fast and the medicine’s faster, but neither is fast enough to keep out the thought. Kurogiri remembers Tomura, and Tomura barely knew him. The people who knew Tomura best might remember him, too. Magne. Compress. Twice, Dabi, Toga. Spinner. You.

He hasn’t let himself think of you in years. He’s known better than to crack open the door to those memories when he’s so sure you’ve forgotten him. But now it’s unlocked again, and there aren’t enough painkillers in the world to keep the thought of you at bay.

eighteen

“Are you okay?” Midoriya asks Tomura, before the guards have even shut the door to the visitation room. “You don’t look so good.”

Tomura laughs. Or coughs. “Nobody here looks good.”

“I visited my other client last week. He looks better,” Midoriya says, frowning. “He says you were sent to the protection cell again.”

“Yeah, he and I have been trading off weeks.” Tomura never asked one way or the other to confirm it, but he knows Chisaki is Midoriya’s other death-row client, and the guards are making both of them pay for having the audacity to get a lawyer. “Nothing new.”

“He says they keep you in for longer than him. My other source said the same thing,” Midoriya says. “Do you know why?”

Tomura’s pretty sure he knows, but he’s not bringing that up in here. Midoriya can work out for himself that the warden despises Tomura for supposedly killing a grandmother he never met and uses every chance he can get to make Tomura suffer. He shrugs instead of answering. “You set this meeting up. What do you want?”

“First, I wanted to give an update,” Midoriya says. He has a notebook and a pencil, which is all he’s allowed to bring in. The guards read over it before he leaves and redact anything they don’t like, which in Tomura’s opinion defeats the purpose – but it’s Midoriya’s dumb decision to keep showing up with it. “We’ve collected enough evidence to move forward with legal action with regard to the human-rights violations. Since you, my other client, and the outside source were all incarcerated under the same set of conditions for a period of seven years, you’ll all serve as co-plaintiffs in the case.”

Fine by Tomura. It’s not going to change anything for him, but maybe the next unlucky bastard who ends up in Tomura’s cell will be spared some of the shit Tomura’s gone through. “I wanted to bring the paperwork for you to sign today, but they said I couldn’t without prior verbal approval from you, so I’ll bring it at the next visit,” Midoriya says. Tomura nods. “There’s something else I wanted to talk about, though. How much do you remember about your interrogation?”

“My interrogation was nineteen years ago. How much do you remember about nineteen years ago?”

“I have an eidetic memory,” Midoriya says. Huh. “But even if I didn’t, the moment I confessed to the murders I was sentenced to death for would be hard to forget. You don’t remember it at all?”

“If I remembered it, I’d be able to –” Tomura breaks off, frustrated. “If I remembered it, I’d be able to tell you exactly what I confessed to. Most of the shit they said in the trial was news to me.”

“Okay,” Midoriya says. He adjusts his grip on his pencil. “Tell me what happened during your interrogation. As much of it as you can remember. From the beginning.”

“I don’t remember shit,” Tomura says, but the longer he thinks about that, the less certain he is that it’s true. Maybe it’s not that he doesn’t remember anything. Maybe it’s just that he doesn’t want to. “It was my day off. When they arrested me. And hers –”

It was just a normal day off. Tomura didn’t have big plans for it, except for spending it with you, and taking you to meet Sensei for the first time. Tomura had tried to introduce you to Sensei before, and Sensei hadn’t wanted to meet you, so when Sensei finally said yes, Tomura jumped on the opportunity. Sensei sent a car to pick the two of you up and bring you to the restaurant, to make sure Tomura wouldn’t be late. You got there early. The cops were waiting. Sensei didn’t get there until after Tomura was on the ground. Sensei was the one who stopped you from trying to pull the cops off Tomura and getting handcuffed right alongside him.

Detention center. The first few days it was – not fine, but now that Tomura knows what the rest of it is like, the first few days were easy. He saw you. Spinner, Toga, Twice. You again. Dabi. You – and he still thought it was a mistake, so he was almost more worried about you than he was about himself. They pulled Tomura out of a visit with you and took him away for interrogation, and after that, time slips into a blur Tomura couldn’t pull into focus if his life depended on it.

He can’t remember the interrogator’s faces. They didn’t wear name badges. Tomura was hungry, but they wouldn’t let him eat. He was tired, but they wouldn’t let him sleep or lay down, or even put his head down on the table. Did he get water? He must have, or he’d have died. He wasn’t beaten, but he didn’t feel right. There was a scab on the back of his hand that always seemed fresh, and a painful knot in his upper arm that never relaxed. And none of that matters, because somewhere in the middle of all of that, Tomura confessed to seven murders and stopped being a human being.

“You’re still a human being,” Midoriya says. He never sounds anything but patronizing when he says that, but he looks disturbed as all hell. “What you’ve said about your interrogation is consistent with the reports made by dozens of other prisoners, across all security levels. Your charges and sentences differed wildly, but you had the same interrogators. Those interrogators were arrested and indicted two weeks ago on charges that they utilized multiple so-called truth serums to produce confessions.”

“What?”

“They drugged you,” Midoriya says. “The scab on your hand and the bruise on your upper arm are consistent with injection sites for sodium thiopental and scopolamine, and those same marks were seen on dozens of other prisoners during their intake exams.”

He’s looking at Tomura like he expects something, and Tomura doesn’t have a fucking clue. Tomura’s going to lose his shit. “What do you want me to say?”

“Standard interrogation practices are already coercive and inhumane, and the validity of any confession produced under those conditions is suspect,” Midoriya says. No shit. “You confessed after twenty days of interrogation, likely under the influence of one or more illegally administered drugs. That confession is inadmissible.”

“So?”

“So if you take that out of the prosecution’s case, what do they have left on you?” Midoriya asks, leaning forward. His eyes are overbright. “I think I can get you a retrial.”

“That’s the worst idea I’ve ever heard,” Tomura says. “Do you think I want to be here until I die of old age? If they knock my sentences down to life without parole – which is what they’d do –”

“That’s not what a retrial is for,” Midoriya says. “A retrial is a reset. A review of all the evidence, including any that’s come to light since the original trial –”

“Which is nothing –”

“I’ve been looking into it. There’s a lot.”

A lot of what? Tomura’s trial was a blur to start with. Now it’s a black hole, pierced by a few memories here and there, strung together by the image of you in the courtroom, in the first row behind the defense table. You were always there. Tomura wasn’t supposed to look back, but every time he did, you were still there, still watching. You didn’t leave him. You never left him, and it’s been so long since he saw you that he’s not sure he remembers your face.

It crashes down on Tomura all at once – the weight of eighteen years behind bars, eighteen silent, frozen years in hell. He sucks down one frantic breath, then another, before the panic and agony crushes the air from his lungs. Tomura claws at his neck, trying to relieve the pressure, and in spite of the fact that he can’t breathe, his body still manages to throw up. He’s conscious, vaguely, of Midoriya reaching out to help, but the guards are already storming into the room. Tomura winds up back in the protection cell, one arm shackled behind his back and the other shackled in front so he can’t even raise his hands to scratch.

No matter how hard Tomura tries to escape into the blank recesses of his mind, he can’t. You’re there now, waiting for him – you and Spinner and Kurogiri and Toga and Twice and everyone, a whole world he stopped dreaming about a long time ago. Now he knows why he stopped. It fucking hurts. Thinking about what was taken away from him, feeling the places where it was torn out, could drive Tomura insane. It will, if he feels like this long enough. If he does nothing long enough. He can’t do nothing anymore.

The guards let him out of the protection cell some featureless amount of time later, throw him into the showers, and drag him to the meeting room without stopping off at his cell first. Midoriya’s waiting there, again, in his suit that makes him look like he’s playing dress-up with his fucking notebook tucked under his arm. “We need to talk.”

Tomura needs to talk, too. He coughs until his voice clears. “The retrial. What would happen?”

“It would resemble your first trial,” Midoriya says. “The prosecution would present their evidence. Your legal team will provide their own evidence to counter the prosecution’s claims and advance your cause. It won’t just be a judge hearing the case. They’ve changed things. Now there’s a panel – six jurors randomly selected from members of the public, three judges. They’ll hear the case and provide a judgment based on a majority vote.”

The rage humming through Tomura’s veins takes on a new target. “The fucking public decided I was guilty before the trial.”

“Things have changed,” Midoriya says. Tomura starts to argue and Midoriya interrupts. “I’ve been out there. You haven’t. And I know things about your case that you don’t. If I petition the court to rule your confession inadmissible, it’ll force a retrial. Without your confession and with the new evidence I’ve collected, it’ll be almost impossible to uphold the original verdict.”

Tomura remembers hearing the verdict. He remembers the applause from the people observing, but more than that, he remembers the muffled sob he heard from behind him. Remembers twisting around to see you, your hand clamped down over your mouth and tears sliding down your face. “What happens then?”

“You’d be acquitted,” Midoriya says. Tomura doesn’t know that word, and Midoriya spells it out, looking at Tomura with the kind of pity that makes Tomura wish he was back in the protection cell. “You’d be free.”

Free.

Tomura can’t remember the last time he thought about being free. Freedom is something abstract, something unreal, something that doesn’t exist on death row. Tomura’s not free to talk. He’s not free to sleep when he wants to sleep or eat when he’s hungry or drink when he’s thirsty. He’s not even free to die on his own terms – the state will kill him, or he’ll die here of natural causes after a life that’s lasted way too long. Freedom is a joke. Tomura’s tired of laughing.

But Tomura wasn’t always here. Tomura was free before. Midoriya’s saying he could be free again. “Do it,” Tomura says, and Midoriya looks up. “I want the retrial.”

Midoriya nods, but there’s a look on his face Tomura doesn’t like. “What?”

“I wouldn’t suggest a retrial if I wasn’t convinced we could win,” Midoriya says, “but I wouldn’t be doing my job as your lawyer if I didn’t warn you that there’s a catch. The government doesn’t like granting retrials, even when they’re warranted. In exchange for the retrial, they’ll demand that you waive your last appeal.”

“So if I win, they’ll let me go,” Tomura says. Midoriya nods. “If I lose, they’ll kill me.”

“And they’ll do it fast,” Midoriya says. He looks like he’s going to be sick. “The last time the original charges were upheld after a retrial, the defendant was executed within a week. So I understand if you –”

“They’re going to kill me anyway,” Tomura says. “I want the retrial.”

“Then we’ll do it.” Midoriya’s expression takes on a hard, determined cast that makes Tomura feel ever so slightly better. So it’s not all bullshit idealism and optimism that’s more likely to get Tomura’s hopes up than get him out of prison. Now he looks like a lawyer. “This is going to be different than your last trial. It’s going to take a lot more from you. Can you handle it?”

“I handled this place.” Tomura gestures with his left hand, sees the evidence of just how much he couldn’t handle it, and clenches his fist at his side. “Whatever else there is. I can do it.”

“Hey!” A guard raps on the door, startling Midoriya and scaring Tomura. “Time’s up!”

“Right. I’ll file the motion, and I’ll be back as soon as I hear,” Midoriya says. Tomura nods. His stomach is tying itself in a knot. “And one more thing. Is there anyone you want me to reach out to? Anybody who should know?”

“Talk to –” There’s a split second where Tomura can’t remember Spinner’s real name. “Iguchi Shuichi. Tell him. And –”

“I said time’s up!” The guards barge into the room. “That’s enough.”

There are four guards. One escorts Midoriya out, or tries to, and three of them grab Tomura, hauling him roughly out of his chair. They know better than to beat Tomura up in front of his lawyer, but one drives a fist into Tomura’s kidneys from behind, and Tomura’s so busy gasping for air as they drag him into the hall that he can’t ask Midoriya to look for you. But he will. The next time Midoriya comes back, Tomura’s going to tell him about you. Tell him that if there’s going to be another trial, he needs you to be there. So you can see it go the right way this time. So Tomura can turn to face you after the verdict and know he’s coming back to you.

nineteen

Tomura wore his prison uniform to the trial – the prosecution insisted – but for the reading of the verdict, he gets to wear a suit. Or has to wear a suit. He had a suit when he was on the outside – Sensei insisted – but everything Tomura owned on the outside is long gone by now. All he has left to his name is whatever he had on him when he was taken into custody, things he hasn’t seen in almost two decades. Things he’ll never see again, if this goes the wrong way.

Midoriya seems optimistic. The rest of the legal team does, too. Tomura’s in too much shock to be able to tell. Midoriya wasn’t joking when he said he had new evidence. The picture he painted of the night Tomura’s family was murdered rewrote Tomura’s entire life, and Tomura understands now why there are so many things he doesn’t remember. Why Sensei made him see his family again. Why Sensei testified against him like that in the first trial. Tomura went into the retrial still thinking that Sensei had cared about him. Sensei was using him the entire time.

Sensei’s going to be arrested, regardless of what happens to Tomura now. One of Midoriya’s friends – some psycho prosecutor Tomura wouldn’t mind sending on a field trip to death row – is already on the case. They’ll get him, and he’ll pay for what he did, just like Tomura paid for it. Like Tomura’s still paying for it, for another few minutes if he’s acquitted and another week or so if he’s not. Hope still hurts, sharper than the constant ache in Tomura’s bones, harder than the lump that never seems to leave the back of his throat. He’s ready for it to be over.

“It’s all going to be fine,” Midoriya says encouragingly. He and the rest of Tomura’s legal team are hanging out on the other side of the bars of the holding cell, doing everything short of popping champagne like they’ve already won. “None of the new evidence we presented was rejected, you were great on the stand –”

“And Deku absolutely killed it on cross,” the guy who’s in charge of preparing witnesses crows. He has the loudest voice Tomura’s ever heard, and the first time Tomura talked to him, he walked away with a headache. After so long in silence on death row, he can’t handle that kind of noise. “Better start thinking about what you want to do when you get out of here, Shigaraki. You’ll be free as soon as those geniuses on the panel figure out how to count to nine.”

“Your character witnesses were great, too,” Midoriya’s co-counsel says brightly. “It was amazing! Usually people who’ve been locked up as long as you have don’t have people anymore, but your friends were so happy to hear from us. It was like they’d been waiting this whole time.”

Tomura hasn’t had a chance to talk to his friends yet. Not directly. He’s written to them, and Midoriya’s made sure the letters have gone through – and he’s seen them, one after another, as they’ve taken the stand and given evidence about who Tomura really is. They all look good. Toga, Spinner, Twice, Dabi. Even Magne and Compress, who Tomura hadn’t known for all that long before he was arrested, got up and answered Midoriya’s questions about Tomura’s behavior, about what Tomura said about his family and how he sounded when he said it. About Sensei, because they all met him. Apparently Tomura’s the only person who ever met Sensei and wasn’t instantly overcome with bad vibes.

You’d probably have said the same thing, if you’d taken the stand. But you aren’t on the witness list. You aren’t in the courtroom, either. It took Midoriya two months to find any number to reach you by, and that number must be out of service or something. Even though he’s called you every other day, he says you haven’t picked up once.

Tomura waits until the rest of the team is distracted, then catches Midoriya’s attention again. “Did you call today?”

“Not yet,” Midoriya says. “I was going to wait until – after.”

Right. That’s probably smart. Smarter than what Tomura wants Midoriya to do, which is call you right now and keep calling until you pick up or until he’s called back to the courtroom to hear the verdict. “But after the verdict, I think there’s a good chance she’ll call me,” Midoriya says quietly. “Before – I mean, she has a lot of reasons not to pick up for unfamiliar numbers.”

“What do you mean?”

“Um – oh, I guess you wouldn’t know,” Midoriya says. He looks uncomfortable. “The news coverage of your first trial was – brutal. They were hard on you, obviously, but they were hard on her, too. Really hard on her. There were people following her. Reporters, and stuff. She lost a job – not the one she had before the trial, a new one – because they wouldn’t leave her alone.”

Tomura feels like he’s going to be sick. He clenches his jaw. “So when she sees a number she doesn’t know, and it’s some guy she’s never met who wants to talk to her about you, it probably makes her pretty nervous,” Midoriya concludes. “Once the verdict comes out, she’ll know why I’ve been calling. So I think we’ll hear from her then.”

People were following you because of him. You lost a job because of him. Maybe you’re not just ignoring Midoriya’s calls because he’s a stranger – you’re ignoring them because you know he wants to talk about Tomura, and you don’t want anything to do with Tomura anymore. That doesn’t sound like you. Tomura loves you. What if you don’t love him anymore? Why would you still love him? It’s been nineteen years. You moved on. You must have moved on. Why wouldn’t you –

“Hey,” Midoriya says at once. “Hey. Don’t worry about that right now. Everything’s going to be fine. We’ll get the verdict and then we’ll work everything out.”

“Call her.”

“Oh, um – I don’t know if that’s a good idea –”

“I don’t care if she picks up. Call her now and hold the phone up through the bars,” Tomura says. Midoriya hesitates. “If this goes wrong, I’m dead in a week. Call her.”

Midoriya places the call, then holds it up to Tomura’s ear. Tomura listens as it rings, rings, rings – and then there’s a click, some static, and your voice, for the first time since he told you to leave the courtroom. “Hey there. I’m not able to come to the phone right now, but if you leave me a message, I’ll get back to you when the stars align. Or in one to two business days. Whichever’s faster. So, like I said – name, number, after the beep.”

Tomura shoves the phone away before he can hear it. “Get out.”

“What –”

“I need to be alone,” Tomura says. “Get out.”

“We’re not going to just leave you alone,” the press liaison for One’s Justice says. “There have been concerns in the past with our clients’ safety while waiting for a verdict –”

“I’m not going to kill myself,” Tomura says. “I need to be alone. Get out.”

Once they’re gone, Tomura slumps back against the bars, his eyes burning. That was your voice on the phone. You’re older. You sound older, like Tomura’s older, but you’re still you. You’re out there somewhere – maybe married, maybe single, maybe happy, maybe not – and if Tomura gets out of here, he can find you. Find out what happened to you. What you were doing, all that time you were supposed to be with him.

The list of things Tomura’s scared of has shrunk over the time he’s spent in prison, down to exactly one thing – the idea of spending the rest of his natural life on death row. He thinks he’ll be scared going into his execution, but he won’t know about that until it’s moments away, so he won’t have time to really lose it. Right now, both of those fears feel distant, like he’s looking at them from a bird’s-eye view. The fear that’s immediate, that’s overwhelming, is that he’ll find you again, and you’ll have forgotten all about him. Not that you’ve moved on, not that you’re married, not that you’re so angry at him that you’ve been ignoring Midoriya’s calls. That Tomura’s such an insignificant footnote in your life that you barely remember his name.

That’s what Tomura’s scared of. That’s what he’s always been scared of, ever since your first date – and second date, that same day when you got coffee together instead of freezing outdoors. Even though it went well, even though he got your number, even though the two of you talked until the coffee shop closed and they kicked you out of the building, Tomura was halfway convinced you’d never call him. Things like you didn’t happen to people like Tomura in real life. He was a decent first date, like you said, but someone like you probably had a lot of those. Tomura wouldn’t stand out.

But you did text him. That night. And when he showed up at the library the next day you were happy to see him. When you had a spare second to talk, you asked him out on a third date before he could say a word. You asked about the first two. I figured it was my turn.

Tomura was amazed at how confident you were. Later he found out that you were too worried about losing your chance with him to be anything except blunt, and he was amazed by that, too. Yeah. I guess it can be your turn. What do you want to do?

Let’s go do something fun, you said. The arcade? I suck at games, but maybe you could teach me.

Tomura had had fantasies about something like that. Dumb-ass, cringeworthy gamer fantasies, but the fact that you were going to be in them shot them into overdrive. There was just one problem. I’m not a good teacher.

I bet you’re better than you think you are, you said. When are you free?

Tomorrow, Tomura said, on some weird impulse to play hard to get. Or maybe it was just so he wouldn’t tell you the truth: Any time, if it’s for you.

You weren’t telling the truth, either – there was one arcade game you were really good at, and it was the claw machine. You were good enough at it that you could actually decide what you wanted to grab instead of just grabbing anything, and you wouldn’t have said anything if you hadn’t caught Tomura staring into the machine. See something you like?

The corgi, Tomura said. He wasn’t sure how he knew you wouldn’t laugh at him, but he was right. You weren’t laughing. You were studying the machine like it was a math problem you were trying to solve. Don’t waste your money. That thing’s never coming out of there.

Wanna bet? You already had your wallet out. I’ll get it for you in four turns.

Your confidence was easy to fall for. Tomura still didn’t want you spending all your money. I’m buying the food later. Whether you win or not.

Deal. You fed a coin into the machine and grasped the controls, glancing Tomura’s way with half a smile on your face. You looked mischievous. Looking back, Tomura thinks you were anxious, too. You wanted to impress him, just like he wanted to impress you. Get ready. We might end up with more of these things than we want to have.

It took you four turns to get the corgi Tomura wanted, and on three of those turns, you came up with a plushie. You had them tucked under your arm when you presented the corgi to him, and you were grinning. One torpedo-shaped corgi plush, as requested.

I didn’t ask. As soon as Tomura said it, he kicked himself. You did something nice for him. Why did he react like a jackass? I mean –

I know you didn’t ask, you said. I wanted to get it for you.

Tomura’s mouth went dry. His hands were shaking when he reached out – past the plushie, to you. Why?

You gave him an odd look. I want you to have things that make you happy.

The other plushies were in the way. Tomura couldn’t figure out how to hold onto you, and he couldn’t think of anything to say that wasn’t pure stupidity. Don’t you think it’s dumb?

No, you said. You looked down at the plushie, half a smile on your face – and then you looked back up at Tomura, and your smile got bigger. Nobody looked at Tomura like that. Not if it makes you happy.

Tomura was happy. He wasn’t happy very often, and it was usually cut with something else. The closest he got was with his friends, and this was like that but not, simpler and more complicated at the same time. Complicated because of all the things that lay beneath you liking him, you wanting him to be happy even if it was over something dumb. Simple because you meant it.

Tomura waited too long to say something. He saw some of the anxiety flicker back across your face. Do you want it? you asked, and Tomura kissed you.

Tomura’s kicked himself for that every so often, before he was locked up and after. Kicked himself for giving you that second of doubt that you made him happy, that he wanted you. If he survives this, if he gets out of here, he’s not going to screw around for a second longer. He’ll get his shit together as much as he can, and then he’ll find you. Even if you’re over it, over him, he needs to make sure you know that it was real, all of it. Real enough to last twenty-one years and longer. Real enough to have kept him warm.

The door opens, and Tomura scrubs at his eyes and straightens up. Midoriya’s there, and so is the rest of the team, and so are the guards. “The verdict’s in,” Midoriya says. “Are you ready?”

He’s spent all day reassuring Tomura. Now he’s the one who looks antsy, and as the guards unlock the door, cuff Tomura’s hands, grab him by the shoulders and hustle him along, Tomura finds himself weirdly calm. He heard your voice again. He remembers you again, and it helps as much as it hurts. That’s more than Tomura ever thought he’d get. It’s enough to get him through the next few minutes on his feet.

The courtroom is different this time. The faces of the panel members show nothing as they file in, and although the seats behind Tomura are full, the room is silent. Tomura’s heart is beating painfully hard, and he taps into his memories of you one last time, thinking back to how you never put your hand on his shoulder when you kissed him. Your hand was always over his heart, and he imagines it there now, steady and strong. And warm. Even if he never sees you again, he has that memory for the rest of his life.

“We have returned a verdict,” one of the panel members says. She’s holding a folded piece of paper. “Will the defendant please rise?”

Tomura gets to his feet. He makes eye contact with the panel member and holds it. And then he waits, while she puts on her reading glasses and unfolds the verdict, to find out how long the rest of his life is going to be.

This is the final chapter of this fic! The story continues in if my heart was a house. Thanks for reading, and I hope to see you there!

[whocaresstillthelouvre]

Break Me Off A Piece

Dieter Bravo x Female Reader Written for the ever so lovely @yopossum's Mootboard and Minifics celebration.

Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI)  Summary: Your husband Dieter Bravo has dragged you to yet another boring Hollywood party, you're determined to make it a little more fun. Warnings: reader calls dieter daddy, oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v sex (be safe irl), food play (kit kat on/dipping in reader’s kitty cat so definitely edible object penetration), spanking with a garden tool, teasing, somewhat public flashing, public-ish sex, getting caught having said public-ish sex, stolen flower, reader wears a dress and heels. Words: 2,000

A/N: Well, I’ve done it folks, my first fic where reader calls someone “daddy.” Thank you to @mothandpidgeon for letting me type out Kit Kat ideas and @ohheypedrito for supporting the daddy of it all.

Masterlist

🧡🍫🧡

All night you’ve been playing nice, allowing Dieter to rub elbows and be the center of attention at this boring Hollywood party full of lame people you have nothing in common with. You laugh at jokes you don’t find funny, nod at stories you don’t care about, and smile at people you don’t like. You’ve been wondering all night why you even let Dieter drag you here…until you saw the way his face lit up as he watched you run that sweet cherry from your drink across your bright coral lips before biting into the fleshy fruit. Oh, that’s right, if you’re bored at this party, why not just tease your busy husband from afar? Time to shuffle the straps of your dress farther down your shoulders. Oh, what’s that? Your leg itches, let’s hitch your dress up and scratch the outside of your thigh. Dieter’s eyes behind his designer sunglasses always find their way back to you all night; you’re playing with fire, and you like the way the deep orange flames feel across your body. 

He’s entertaining yet another group of hanger onners, they laugh at everything he says, maniacally nodding their heads as he regales some sort of story you’ve probably heard a dozen times. Oh, please, he’s not that big of a deal. You love him, he’s your best friend, but they don’t have to pick up the Kit Kat wrappers scattered around his bedside table or pick up his wet towel he constantly leaves on your side of the bed. He catches your eye and you feel like making him suffer even more for dragging you to this lame party inside a lame mansion owned by a lame producer. You glance across the room, nobody’s looking at you, you’re not famous, you’re just a “trophy” (yeah, right) wife. A shot of bravery makes you sit up straighter, and grab the hem of your green dress. You open your legs, just as Dieter’s eye’s open when he gets a glimpse of your coral panties. His mouth drops, thick eyebrows rise above his sunglasses in feigned shock before he gives a precursory nod to his fan club and walks away from them, heading straight for you. 

“Get up,” he grabs your arm, pulling you to stand. “We gotta go somewhere, need to teach you a lesson.”

__

“Here?” 

“Yes baby,” Dieter crowds your back against a table filled with gardening supplies and potted plants. Your body knocks against the wood top, trowels and rakes clatter against one another; you’re mindful to not stick your hand in the potted cactus sitting to the left of you. His wet tongue runs up the column of your neck, teeth nipping at the sensitive skin of your jaw. You can feel the bulge of him growing against your behind. 

“It’s so dirty in here,” you say, angling your head back to try to meet his lips. 

“So?” he asks before sealing his mouth over yours, his large hand grabs your chin as the other grips your breast. You can taste the fancy champagne his cohorts have been pouring him all night. “You should have thought about that before you teased me in there.”

“Meee, tease yooou?” you gasp against his lips when he pinches your nipple through the fabric of your dress.

“Yes, youuuu,” he teases, “you know exactly what you were doing to me.”

Your palms push against the rough wood of the table, you’re really mad at your past self for choosing to wear such high heels. Weak knees and platform shoes are not a good mix for an escapade in a damn greenhouse. 

“Bend over for me naughty girl,” he rasps. “Want to show you what all this fucking teasing gets you” He bunches your dress up in his hand, exposing your bare cheeks to him. "Fuuuuuuuuck, this is perfect baby girl, you wore my favorite thong like the bad girl you are, didn't you?"

“You are aware this whole greenhouse is–nyuuh–glass, don’t you?” you ask surveying the surroundings of the windowed shed. Is all of this necessary? Do mega movie producers really garden?

“Well aware," he growls. “You look so fucking good tonight, I don't give a fuck where we are, just as long as I can fuck this pretty little orange covered cunt. I say let everyone watch. Let them see how crazy you’ve been driving me all fucking night.”

You hear the clang of metal, before feeling something cool and flat against your ass cheek. 

“...What in the world are yo–”

SMACK, a stinging sensation blooms across your bottom. Your body tightens, a loud moan escapes and echoes across the glass panels of the greenhouse. You jerk your head back, to only be greeted by Dieter and his proud smile. 

“Told you I had to teach you a lesson,” he says, waving a garden trowel in the air.

You breathily laugh, lust surging through your body when you push your ass farther out, encouraging him to spank you again.

“You want another bad girl?” his voice drops an octave, deep bedroom Dieter has taken over. 

“Yes daddy,” you mew, enticingly shaking your curves back and forth. 

Cool metal is once again against your skin rubbing small, teasing circles into your flesh. Your breath hitches in your throat when it’s pulled away, time slows while you wait for another spark of pain. 

SMACK. The metal lands against you harder this time, you gasp Dieter’s name, he answers you with a grumbly chuckle before throwing the trowel back on the table.

His hands find your hips, turning you around to face him before he sinks to his knees and bunches your dress up. He lifts his sunglasses up to rest atop his head, giving him a clear view of his favorite pair of panties.

“Fuck, they do match your lips,” he says before running his tongue across the seam of your orange thong.

He pulls your underwear to the side, covering your cunt with his mouth. You’ll never get tired of the way he groans against your flesh, like he can’t believe he gets to taste you. He swirls and glides his tongue against your sensitive flesh, sucking and licking in all of the right places. 

The sensation makes you lose your grip on the clutch you’ve been carrying all night. The bag drops, scattering its contents all over the floor, stealing Dieter’s attention away from eating you. 

He leaves your warmth, quickly gathering all of your items and stuffing it back in your purse, save for the lone Kit Kat bar you keep in your purse for Dieter emergencies.

He holds the candy up, a thick eyebrow angled up in mirth.

“What?” you shrug, “I know how grumpy you can get.”

“Feeling kinda grumpy at you for what you just put me through in there baby,” he says before bringing the package up to his mouth. 

“Then it’s a good thing I know you,” you counter.

“You don’t know me as well as you think you do,” Dieter says through gritted teeth, the Kit Kat package swings from his mouth with each word. He pulls your panties down, fully taking in the sight of you in before opening the candy package. “Though, I am quite hungry.” 

He breaks a piece off and brings the chocolate to your cunt, parting your lips with the thin stick of chocolate. He circles the smooth wafer against your clit before leading it down to swirl against your entrance, Dieter looks up at you and winks before he dips it inside of you for a split second pulling a sweet moan out of your throat. He glides the confection covered in your slick out and brings it to his mouth; his eyes flutter shut when he wraps his plush lips around the candy now covered in you. A boisterous whimper emits from his throat, his whole body shudders against you. It’s filthy and sweet, watching your movie star spouse taste his two favorite things… you and a Kit Kat. 

“Good?” you question, exceedingly turned on just knowing how much Dieter enjoyed his little treat. 

He moans out a long, satisfying “mmmm” before tucking the open candy package into the chest pocket of his linen shirt. 

“Amazing,” he smiles, rising to his feet and unzipping his pants, pulling his cock out, already leaking and hard, definitely due to his prior snack.

You lift yourself onto the potting bench, bundling your dress up and spreading your legs wide, your pulse quickens, your body's already anticipating being stuffed full of Dieter’s thick cock.

He consumes you, his big arms blockade you in on both sides as he slowly enters your cunt. He puffs out a breath of air against your neck when he fully sheathes himself inside of you.

“You feel better than a Kit Kat,” you sigh, adjusting your legs to wrap around his body, opening yourself up even more for your husband to take you in the greenhouse.

He cackles against your neck, his dick rumbles against your walls with each laugh. 

“Better fucking be,” he says, pumping in and out faster as if he has to prove he is in fact better than a tiny stick of a candy bar. 

His thrusts rock into you harder as you open wider for him, soaking his cock with your slick; your hands clutch his hair, knocking his sunglasses off of his head when he begins to pound into you. You’re moaning so loud but you don’t care... Dieter is right, let them hear you, let them see you be taken by your husband. 

“That’s it, taking my fat cock like the naughty fucking girl you are,” he grunts. The table you’re sitting upon shakes under his force, metal garden tools and pots knock against one another. The loud clash of a terracotta planter landing on the floor doesn’t even phase the two of you.

“DUDE, WHAT THE FUCK?!” 

The sound of Dieter’s mega producer friend Jordan interrupts your feverish fucking. Your hands unclasp from Dieter’s hair, you can’t even look over at Jordan, too embarrassed by how he’s found the two of you. You idiot, what did you expect you’re screaming like a banshee and he’s fucking you in a greenhouse. 

“Sorry man, we’re almost done,” Dieter says, his dick twitches inside of you with each word spoken. 

“No dude, people are watching from the balcony, you gotta get out before someone snaps a pic,” Jordan scolds.

“Alright,” Dieter slips out of you, your body already begins craving the fullness of him. “Alright, we’ll get going, so we can finish elsewhere.”

“Jesus Christ Bravo, you could have asked me for a room,” Jordan shakes his head before turning and leaving. 

Dieter turns his head to you, giving you his classic smug grin. God damnit, you love this frustrating mess of a man. 

“Let’s go. The car’s waiting outside, I can fuck you in there.”

He picks your panties up off the floor and stuffs them in his pocket.

“Wait a second…” he turns around and grabs a stem from the bird-of-paradise plant now laying on the floor surrounded by the broken pot.

“Diet–”

“I made that man seven figures last year, he’s not going to miss this,” he says, handing you the flower before leading you to the limousine waiting to take you home. “Plus, every good show deserves flowers at curtains down.” 

___

“Shit,” Dieter says, as he deposits his keys and belongings onto the foyer table. “I don’t have my sunglasses. Pretty sure they’re still in that shed…”

[phoenixeclipse-lmkau]

an ISAT animatic popped up and reminded me of my favourite trope, so now more crumbs manifest:

TIME LOOPS!

time loop where reader goes back to the very beginning of her adventure, and now has to face the fact that the cubs were warlords, and now she has a second chance to do things over. perhaps this time, she can escape their attention. reader is, unfortunately, a bleeding heart, and always picks them up, so its a case of trying to be as uninteresting and apathetic as possible while getting them to flower fruit mountain.

but reader cant hide how much she cares. throwing herself in front of threats, taking care of their injuries with great care, always being gentle with them.

the only way she could escape their love would to stop being compassionate, but compassion is an inherent trait to reader.

no matter what she does, no matter how much she changes between each loop they still love her anyways. she can never escape.

TIME LOOPS!

time loop where the monkey duo constantly re-experience the day reader successfully escapes back to her world. you would think being overpowered would help, but no. it seems like reader was going to escape them, one way or the other. the very first time they managed to stop her from returning back to her world, she perished, presumably from her injuries.

only after many more loops do they realise that reader is the cause in every loop she has died. today was the day she was going to escape them, one way or the other.

they just keep losing her.

TIME LOOPS!

you know how there is an encounter where sun wukong and macaque fight in jttw/lmk, and how sun wukong kills macaque?(idk how lmk handles it) how about reliving that day, again and again, until wukong can figure out a way to not kill him? starting at the very beginning of the confrontation, ending a few moments after the fatal blow.

one loop he manages to delay the fight, trying to see if making it through the day will break the loop.

nope!

once the sun sets, it loops straight back to the beginning of the confrontation.

and he cant exactly die to escape the loops, can he? and trying to not fight macaque leads macaque to try and kill the pilgrims instead, and if sun wukong doesn't protect them, then its circlet time! he always has to fight macaque

is this punishment for killing his love? to forever relive his final day by his hand?

TIME LOOPS!

honestly someone should do the pilgrims in an JTTW/LMK X ISAT AU, i would read it. its 5 for 5 and if sun wukong takes the place of siffrin macaque could take the place of loop. lady bone demon as the king, tripitaka as the person who is the key to the party's adventure, pigsy and sandy rounding out the team, and ao lie as the support.

idk who would be headmaiden tho. don't know enough characters off the top of my head.

you could even have a reflection in lmk, and draw parallels of the last time it happened, make wukong think he went back into the time loops again, but its mk this time instead

TIME LOOPS!

i can never get enough of them. i hope you like my crumbs as much as i like your fics.

Okay first things first. I am so sorry that I am definitely going out of order with these Crumbs!

I get ideas for one and it’s not the one I’m supposed to be working on and I am sorry. But~ I do love these crumbs and am trying to work my way through them. One at a time~ Get it time hehe!

I can’t honestly say that I know much if anything really about ISAT. So forgive me for only understanding time loops.

Now as for time loops? I can’t say I’d be putting them in my main fic. However! These are amazing ideas which would be so angsty!

One minute Reader in stuck on Flower Fruit Mountian and the next she is back standing under the tree that she first met the monkeys under. They had just fallen and she was holding them in her arms. She wants to throw them out and run, everything in her tells her to run… but, how could she!?

These are her monkeys! The same ones who she cared for and loved for months.

Reader staring at Sun Wukong and The Six Eared Macaque. Both were staring back at her for just a moment before one of them bit her! Even with the tiny teeth biting into her skin she didn’t feel pain, this kind of pain was nothing to her now. Tears filled her eyes catching Spirit’s attention.

“Reader? Are you alright? Damn cub he needs to let you-“ She was cut off as you held the two closer to you trying to push away any thoughts of what was to come.

You could throw them out, you could push them away but… how could you? They were so small, so defenseless right now. Even knowing who and what they are you can’t bring yourself to do anything but hold them. They were perfect like this, they had been so sweet and kind to you with an innocence that you truly believed in. However even while they were still ‘sweet’ and ‘kind’ to you in the future they were so dangerous and murderous now.

"Reader let the monkey go," Spirit said calmly, however at her words you did the exact opposite, you couldn't, you couldn't let them go.

"Flower Fruit Mountain... there is a way home on Flower Fruit Mountain, I know where it is on the island," you finally said.

The way home from there wasn't destroyed yet and you had time. You had the time to get them there and get home before the curse broke. You were sure that you had the time, the time to get Sun Wukong and The Six Eared Macaque back to their home before they would fall in love. Just ignore their looks and don’t let them get out of sight. Easy, it was just that easy.

You wished it had been that easy, at every turn these two tried to run off. They thought they were still invincible and weren’t listening to anything you would say. You tried to be mean to a point but just one look at their faces and you would melt.

“It’s not fair,” you grumbled one night after Spirit laid down to bed. She didn’t think you should bring the monkey cubs along but you refused to leave them behind.

Both monkeys looked at you and cocked their heads to the side. They didn’t run away because it was so dark that you could barely see anything in the forest around you even with the fire blazing in front of you. Monsters stayed away from these flames, it was odd but very helpful in the woods.

“After everything I should hate you two, but how can I do that when you are so… I shouldn’t even be saying anything…” The two in front of you were confused at your words but you attempted not to say anything.

Tears filled your eyes as you looked as you looked at them. It was so unfair. They were defenseless and weak right now anything could hurt them. Maybe that was why, maybe that was why you wanted to see them back in their Warlord forms. At least then they’d be able to fight for their own protection.

“When you return to your true forms… do me a favor and don’t look for me. You don’t need me,” you muttered as sleep overtook your mind.

*Chirp?*

You knew who they were and you knew they’d return to their true forms. Looking at each other they came closer to you curious. You were so quiet when you slept and it was strange to see you so calm rather than running after them. At least not with the tears that had just fallen from your eyes.

Who were you? And how did you know who they were?

Curiosity was always what sparked how the two fell in love with you. They would stop running long enough to know you to learn about you and to love you.

With each time the time changes she would inevitably become the source of curiosity for the two monkeys. They learned about you in every world. Delayed your return to their home to capture you before you could find the way that you return home. Destroy whatever was in their way to keep you by their side.

This one didn’t really go into the time loop part of it too much, sorry about that. But it’s not a bad scene in my opinion at least.

>>><<<< Reader’s daughter (one of them)

However this also depends on what time Reader is taken from the future! Is it during when she’s first taken to Flower Fruit Mountian? Is it during the journey? Is it during the LMK time? Is she with them willingly at this point? Does she have kids?

Yes you eventually have kids, so if its after you have kids with the two warlords then well I’ve had a little scene in my head for a while now. Where one of your children goes to the past and you has to get her back!

“But they hurt you,” Her words cut through you like a knife. You don’t fight with your husbands all that much, so why does she know this?

“Honey-“ You begin to say.

“Uncle Tang told us about how you all met the Warlords, he said that you got hurt more than once too!” She was crying at this point, your daughter, your ever strong and determined daughter was crying.

Your eyes flickered to the monkeys (weather in warlord form or cub form) and sigh. It’s true, they hurt you before. They never meant to but there was more than once that you ended up hurt. But you turned your attention right back to your daughter and kneeled in front of her.

“They did. They hurt me, but they never meant to,” You explain cupping your daughter’s cheeks, staring at her heart shaped mask and deep golden eyes. She looked so much like her dad.

“Then why!? WHY WON’T YOU CHANGE IT!?” She yelled but froze when you laughed. You laughed at the words, you knew why you wouldn’t change anything not a single thing would be changed at least not by you.

“Because, because no matter what happened in the past, I love you, you and your siblings. If what happened in the past didn't happen then how would I have gotten you or your siblings?” You asked a smile on your face, reassuring and calm.

She sniffled, eyes wide with shock as if the thought didn’t cross her mind. However when her eyes went down cast you knew, she had thought about that. She had known there would be consequences but she wanted to spare you the pain.

“Besides, no matter what happened in the past… I love them too. Both of them, through thick and thin, through joy and sorrow. They are mine and I am theirs,” You explained, your own eyes brimmed with tears as your daughter threw herself into your arms and letting out a sob.

It was like when she was a tiny cub again she curled into you as you pulled her close to you. With a sigh you smile and take the artifact that you used to find her out of your pocket. You looked at Sun Wukong and The Six Eared Macaque and give them a soft smile before allowing yourself and your daughter to be sent back to your own time.

Sun Jin, also nicknamed Jinx is mostly like her dad in the aspects of personality and appearance. She has a very low amount of shadow magic, (compared to her siblings) and extraordinary strength. In strength alone she can match many celestials and high ranked demons alike. She is a pure mama’s girl and will do anything to make her happy, even if that means breaking time and space itself.

>>><<< Reader escapes to her world

“NO!” The pure boiling rage echoed through the cavern as the light died down. Everything was still around the now shattered crystal that lay in shards across the cold stone floor.

You were gone, again! How many times has this day reset? How many times had they lost you to the damned portal that continued to take you away!? All they wanted was for you to stay with them and be their Queen. They wanted you safe and cared for, you’d never be in danger with them and you would have everything that you’d ever asked for.

Macaque was the first to move, scooping up the shattered crystal with a look of rage across his face. Every time, every fucking time. You would never stay here- NO! He refused to believe that. They would get you back one way or another, weather you agreed with them or not. You were their beautiful and loving wife, they would get you back no matter how long it took.

As the world around them shifted to them returning to the beginning of the day, Wukong curled around you. Every morning started the same, you three were sleeping in bed before going about your day. The day that you would find a way back to your world, and leave them behind.

No, you wouldn’t be able to do that for much longer. Macaque would make sure of that. Without a word he got out of bed, giving a smile to Wukong who looked at him with confusion. He wouldn’t explain not this time, he wouldn’t give his mate false hope before getting to the bottom of this.

It didn’t work, of course it didn’t work. Wukong screamed as he held your lifeless body in his arms, his body shaking with pure rage. His eyes almost glowing red as if he were about to use his power to destroy anything in his path. He barely held himself back as Macaque stood behind you both.

No! How did this happen!? All he did was break the crystal, the same crystal that constantly took you away from them again and again and again. All he did was take away what was taking you from them!

He couldn’t even bring himself to approach you two instead backing away with a look of horror across his face. This was his fault, in his selfishness, he took you away permanently. Tears, real tears filled his eyes as the wind howled around them, shadows lashing around as the ground cracked beneath his mate. They couldn’t stand this!!

Once again the world shifted to the morning before, hearts pounding in their chests as they curled close to you. They wouldn’t loose you, not this time.

Not this time.

Not this time.

NOT THIS TIME!

>>> Random thought

Okay halfway through this one I came up with an idea! So I have a way for Reader to get home from the island, one that the monkey duo is constantly trying to destroy. A crystal that was formed within one of the caverns deep underground. Now with that information what if the day that she constantly escapes is the same day that she keeps getting sent to the past!

Just a thought, I thought it was neat. In that case the crystal would be what is sending her to the past… oh! Flower Fruit Mountain has tons of artifacts so the one they could be fighting against is a time travel device while there is still another crystal to her own world. Yeah, that could work.

>>> The day Macaque dies

Now I don’t think I’ll be having Macaque die in this Au, and if I do it’ll only be temporary. However- The ANGST! So not at all canon, but how can I resist.

Though I don’t think any of these are fully canon to this Au, but meh they have been so fun to write!!

Blood dripped down the side of Wukong’s staff. Everything in his world froze around him. Macaque’s once vibrant eye the only one visible dimming until they held no light and no life. A scream was heard almost instantly, the staff thrown to the side in favor of Wukong cradling his love in his arms. No, no, no! How could he do this!? How could he do this to his warrior.

His own vision blurred as he pulled his mate into his arms and let out a sob. How- how- how!? This isn’t real, none of this was real. This wasn’t even possible! He tried to reason with himself, there was no way that any of this was possible.

The sun behind him was an array of gorgeous golds, oranges and reds as it set below the sky. Allowing the moon to show from high in the sky, as if it was mocking him.

He opened his mouth to scream once again only for his entire world to shift. And once again be standing in front of his enraged mate.

“I don’t want to fight you!” He yelled, knowing this wasn’t the first time this has happened. However it was only not the first time for him, to his beloved mate? This was the first time they had seen each other in a long while, the pilgrimage having taken him from The Five Fazes Mountain. He needed to complete this journey to be free, to go back to his mate at all.

“Then get out of my way!” So he could get his revenge, so that Macaque could do what he came for.

Time and time again, his own mate’s blood covered his hands quickly making the King go absolutely insane. Blood would cover the ground one way or another this day and there was nothing that could be done about it.

I loved this ask! Again I’m sorry that I took so long with this ask! I do love this idea! And once again I really don’t know that much about ISAT, if you could let me know more about it I might look into it. That is not a promise but I might get intrigued enough to look at it.

[rose-l-20]

Hello there, I just stumbled onto your page and I was wondering if I could request a Darth Maul x female reader with angst and fluff? Like reader is with the jedi order, but she isn't exactly liked because she has darkness in her but Maul likes her.....or if you have an original plot, go for it, I won't complain.

P.S.-I may come back and request something with Iceman or something from Harry Potter!

Please take me away - Darth Maul x Female!Human!Jedi reader

Hello! Thank you for the request! This idea is perfect for me to write my first Darth Maul Fic! 😫 I’ve always wanted to but never had the courage to do so! Please send any other requests you would like I would love that!

I also loved how you used blue for your writing! It made me read the request in the narrator from the Clone Wars show 😂

I hope you like it!

❤️🖤❤️🖤

SUMMARY: see request above!

WARNINGS: Reader is mistreated, reader is isolated, name calling, general angst, murder, swearing, stalking undertones, reader crying, insomnia, protective Darth Maul, age gap, nicknames, soft Darth maul, general fluff, running away, Jedi becomes Sith, Kyber crystal bleeding ritual. (TW) Unedited!

The sun was covered by clouds, seeping through the main Padawan training room. A lightsaber defense class was currently in session, with a head count of 12 15-16 year old Padawans. Along with a Master Jedi knight, who was teaching them a new range of skills and techniques.

There was a pair, consisting of a 15 year old boy and an equal aged girl. Her name was (y/n). She was known to be “slightly ahead” for her age. She found it easy to learn new skills. Almost like it was already written in her code.

The lesson started with meditation, to get everyone into the right head space. Moving onto an extensive warm up of the body, to ensure a full range of motion. Then the training began!

Each pair went one at a time, so their Master could watch them clearly without distractions. The majority of the pairs had their turn before (y/n) and her partner got to have theirs.

They got into position, ready to spar. The pair waited in idle anticipation for their Master to give the sign to start. Once hearing a “GO!” Blue crashed against green. The light crackles of contact, the hum of movement, and the children’s focused grunts were the only thing to be heard. The boy pushed (y/n) against the wall with the force, causing her to get frustrated as she knew she was years ahead of him. The sparing match went on, it looked like watching a dance routine.

The final straw for the young woman was the boys foot making contact with her chest, and shoving her to the ground. With a loud scream she used the force to pull herself up and started violently thrashing her saber against his, leaving him little to no time to strategies. She let out grunts and screams. “I HAVE HAD IT WITH YOU”, the words flew from her mouth and echoed in the large room.

The boy had slipped and fell hard on the ground. He was frightened to say the least, his saber was the only thing protecting him from being sliced apart. He called out to their master “HELP ME! SHE IS GOING TO KILL ME!”. With that their Master used the force to retract the girls lightsaber, which lead her to look at him with furious eyes. Before she could make another sound, she was put to sleep.

———

Since that day you never got along with anyone. Some people were wary of you and always tried to avoid you, while others were cruel to you. But one thing both groups had in common, was calling you horrible names. You were bounced around to different Masters, some just gave orders and ignored, some would insult you and make your life a living hell. You suffered in more ways than one. You were always stressed, never sleeping well, constantly being tired leading to you being an anxious woman. The topic of being kicked out was a reoccurring conversation, which lead to anxiety attacks. You could never catch a break mentally.

Walking through the halls of the order felt like being an easy target. You constantly heard whispers and people would shout at you. “Freak”, “Sith spy”, “future murderer”, “red eyes”, “piece of shit”, “waste of space”, “I bet your parents were bad people, and wanted nothing to do with a child like you!” And so much more.

Their were many missions were you would be called a few names, and insults. But one mission stuck out from the rest. You were told to stay back after the night watch debrief, which you knew wasn’t to praise you on your efforts.

You were 18 at the time, and 2 years from knighthood. The leading Jedi knight who gave the debrief, got right up into your face and verbal attacked you. The sun was setting behind him, making the hood he was wearing cast a shadow over his eyes. He was intimidating both in general and in this moment.

“(Y/n), you worthless waste of resources. If you make even one mistake or fault…I will get you kicked out. Am I fucking understood?” He gritted out with his teeth. You nodded with a “yes Master”, he shoved your shoulder and walked off. Your whole body shrunk into itself as you whispered “don’t cry” repeatedly.

———

As you were gathering yourself, a certain Dathomirian Zabrak was watching on. He was there to seek out information on the Jedi. Amber eyes were fixated upon their first glance at you, and his body froze. Seeing your Master lash out at you stopped him in his tracks. He heard what he needed to, ready to move on when he heard your name being called. The sound alone stopped him. When the senior Jedi threatened you, his body tensed. He didn’t know why, but it was like a hidden instinct had kicked in.

He saw you take a deep breath, ground yourself and walk off to your night watch route. You walked around the south west side of the building, starting to scope out the terrain. His body followed yours like a curious cat, walking slowly and steadily. His eyes scan over your body, learning every inch, while his fingers itched for the blood of the master who treated you like shit.

His mind was all over the place, and he struggled to make sense of it. Why was he following this young woman, while he was trying to get a job done. You felt his strong force signature, and ignited your blue saber. Your eyes darting in different directions, the man skilled in force distribution. Your body was on fire with a concoction of anticipation and adrenaline, using all the energy you could on finding the being who was a potential threat to the order.

After 10 minutes the signature was gone, and so was your energy. You walked back to your wall position and slouched against it, fingers rubbing your eyes as a new ache came from your temples. “Fucking hell, they’re now messing with my night duties. How low can they get?”

The black and red patterned man left on his ship with new information and some…conflicting emotions.

———

A year and 10 months passed and your life was bizarre to say the least. The mistreatment, name calling and isolation was still the same to your disappointment. But your sleep quality was heavily improved, your body felt better rested, and your anxiety has gone down significantly. The only side effect was weird dreams.

Across the span of this time the man had gone through a handful of months of trying to shove you from his mind, you were like a plague. He also thought of the most brutal of deaths for the master who insulted you. He got so annoyed with his mind he requested to be in a new area of the galaxy to not be able to even feel your presence…it didn’t help a single bit.

5-6 months into the year he had started accepting the emotions, and decided to watch over you. He wasn’t happy about the Jedi order’s behavior towards you. He was ready to kill every person who looked disgusted or said anything about you. He watched over you as you cussed, and cried for an ounce of a nice nights sleep, so he used his powers to lull your mind into restful, sweet, blissful sleep. The next morning your body felt like it was on a fluffy cloud. Your eyes welled up with tears of relief, and joy as you had enough energy to put in a little more effort in your appearance. Hair tied up in a proper style instead of a messy ponytail, uniform clean, and a smile rested on your slightly red, bitten lips.

The joy was only short as you were sent on a 2 month mission a few weeks later, and your sleep got worse again. This caused the multiple horned man couldn’t find you. But don’t worry he is a very determined person, and found you within a week.

At that point, your anxiety and stress had sky rocketed. Your usual bullying had gotten worse, because you didn’t make it to base camp at the allocated time. Leading to your masters to yell at you, give you inventory to sort, and you couldn’t rest until it was complete. Half way through you felt the familiar force signature from the first night. A smooth, yet gravelly voice made you jump while instinctually igniting your lightsaber.

“You shouldn’t have to endure the torment they put upon your heart and mind” the voice spoke, while coming out of the shadows. Confusion etched its way onto your face. You could tell the hooded man was no good, a Sith Lord most likely but you didn’t try to alert any one of his intrusion. His words seeped into your mind like sand between one’s toes. Repeating over and over.

“What is your business here?!” You got into your fighting stance, trying not to question his words and protect your camp. If you save them from this guy you could finally be liked! He rolled his eyes, using his ability with the force to seep into your thoughts. “You know they’ll find something wrong, even if you succeed in taking me out Darling”

Your figure slightly slumped over as his eyes held the truth. His hand reached and snatched your Saber from your hand, retracting the beam and placing it on your belt. Your confusion amplified at his actions. “What? W-why are you even telling me this?”

“Because Darling” he walked up to you, stopping just a foot from your body. You could see the details of his face, the red more clear in contrast to the black. “You know I’m right”. Your heart sunk to the bottom of your stomach, you did, you knew he was right.

———

From that day he showed up randomly, sometimes when you expected it, and sometimes you had to aggressively push him behind a wall and whisper “are you nuts?!”. He would smirk and shrug, walking off. You’d roll your pretty eyes and follow.

You stayed in the order, but found your comfort and peace in the man who went by “Maul”. It took a while for you to believe he wasn’t lying about a few things about himself, but once a foundation of trust was made you hung onto his every word.

You of course went through the usual phases. “What do you want?”, To “you again?”, To “stalker much?”, To “oh thank kriff you’re here!”. You guys maintained a great friendship. You had inside jokes, comfort between one another, learnt every little thing about each other, and so much more. The friendship lasted 4 years, until the following year (when you turned 25) you both felt a shift in the atmosphere. Catching each other’s eyes at random moments, longer silences and more tactile interactions.

However your workplace never got better, Maul would be there to support you through the worst days. The first time you both initiated a hug was when you were having a mental breakdown, and just a simple hand on your back didn’t help he pulled you tight, and close to his chest. You froze immediately upon impact, shocked but still in the middle of a mental breakdown you continued to get all of your feelings out in the crook of his neck. From there you both were comfortable in each other’s arms.

The 5th year, as the aura of your friendship was in its transformation you were struck with another breakdown. You flung yourself off your bed, the tie of your pajamas becoming loose as you ran into the woods. The fabric lowed over your shoulder as your eyes frantically looking for your confidant. You knew not to call out his name, they, the Jedi, will find you and punish you. Or worse, kill him. So your body fell to the ground trying to breathe through the pain.

The crunch of his boots against grass had you looking up at his worry stricken face. He reached for you as you blabbered through sobs “please…take m-me…away from here!" he held you and fixed your pajamas. Once you settled into his embrace he lifted your face by your chin, looking for any hesitations. Once certain he took his cloak off and placed it onto your frame. “Ok Darling, let’s go”

———

You got yourself familiar with your new home, which was his chambers on the planet of Mustafar across the span of 4 days. “How are you feeling darling?” His voice sounded so sweet in your ears. Your mind was finally at ease being off that planet. Your stress and anxiety felt like a distant memory already. You got up from his surprisingly comfortable bed while grabbing his outstretched hand. “Better, much better Maul”. He pulls you to his meditation room which was attached to his chambers. “This is where I would seep into your mind to bring you restful sleep”.

“I knew it was you after a while, the pieces of the puzzle came together on their own.” You smiled up at him. He reciprocated with his own smile. Maul used the force to pick up your lightsaber off your night table. “Are you ready and are you sure?” He held your chin again. “Yes”. With the force Maul opened your saber, to retrieve the Kyber crystal, placing it onto the ground you sat cross legged.

“Now, focus all of your energy on the sadness, all of your anger, all of your frustration, all of your pain into a ball. With that ball, force it into your crystal.” He instructed, and you followed suit. The blue of your saber fought against the red hue that was being emitted from your very soul. It wasn’t strong enough, compared to how you felt about those who put you through the worst years of your life. “Concentrate” he kept you grounded. Maul could sense your mind wandering.

The crackling had stopped, and the Kyber crystal was bled. You pulled it to your hand with haste, opening your eyes to look at it. A smirk stretched across your lips. Getting up you walked towards the man who you owed your freedom to, looking into his eyes he noticed the rings of orange and red in replacement to your (e/c).

“I love you Maul, I think I always have” your face came close to his, seeking the same emotion in his gaze. There was a moment of quiet, before his lips made contact with yours. The kiss was soft, tender and warm. With undertones of sickening revenge on his end. Maul pulled away, smiling down at your flushed face.

“I’ve always loved you too, my love”.

———

After a while of Maul teaching you new lightsaber tricks, force abilities that were forbidden by the Jedi code. All the while being the best lover the galaxy ever saw. He gifted you all the necessary things you had left behind, exotic flowers from planets he frequented and took the utmost care of you.

Your training had come to fruition, and your lover had approved you to come with him to fight. You grabbed your bag as you went to his ship, you got on board. As you walked up the ramp you saw Maul sitting in the cockpit. You placed yourself in his lap, folding your legs over each other. He kissed your lips as he took off.

On the way to your destination you had your regular conversations, and sat in comfortable silence. Maul never explained where you were going, but your gut told you that you already knew. Opening your bag you got your device, and when through some information with your lover. This consisted of notes from training, and important information from different groups of people he worked with. Half the time he got lost in your voice and had to get you to repeat yourself. “You are Darth Maul and you’re getting distracted? If the Jedi could see you now!” You laughed

“Of course I’m distracted love, have you seen yourself?” He rubbed your arm gently and held your gaze, which will never not make you blush deep red. “Shut the fuck up” you mumbled under your breath. His throat vibrated with a deep, amused laugh. Kissing your neck as he put the ship into hyperspace. His arm snaked around your waist to keep you from flinging forward, not letting go. This didn’t help your blush in any way.

You had landed at your destination, you were super excited to finally use your new skills and knowledge. Getting up from Maul’s lap, you put your cloak on and made sure your lightsaber was secured to your belt. Maul’s larger hands placed the hood over your head, casting a menacing shadow. “Ready, Darling?” His knuckles caressed your face and with a simple “Yes Master” you followed him out of the ships door.

The gravel beneath your boots was satisfying to your ears, as you approached a Jedi bass camp. Déjà vu hitting you hard, making your body burn with anger. Maul could sense it and refocused your mind, “stay focused Darth (y/n/n)”. Your response was a sharp nod with a small grunt. As you followed him you sensed force users. their signatures leaving a sour taste in the back of your throat. The camp was small, only housing 10 Jedi minimum.

"Wait here my love, you'll know when to come out" he placed a rough kiss to your lips, which you matched perfectly. You stayed behind the stones which hid the camp, choosing to lean against one that was nicely shaded. In your waiting time you practiced your breathing and preformed a brief meditation ritual, connecting to all the Sith Lords and Ladies that came before.

Maul walked up to the Jedi Knights, who were talking strategy around a table. some sitting, some standing and some lying down on the dirt. Their discussion came to a stop as they felt the aura of a threat. All of them got into formation, ready for anything.

"Good afternoon ladies and gentlemen... If you could even call your selves that." his hands reached for the hood of his cloak, and elegantly placed it on his neck. His eyebrows lowered as he recognized all of your main bullies. His anger rising as he remembered all of your anguish and suffering. One, the worst of them all had the gall to speak. "What is the meaning of your intrusion, Darth Maul?" This caused a sinical laugh to come from the depths of his soul.

"Darling! come!" his voiced rasped. You smirked as you started walking, head down facing the dirt ground. Each step you took was an ego boost, while making you feel giddy for your plans to take shape. "The "meaning of my intrusion" is her"

Your steps came to a stop on the right side of his body, your black cloak twirling in the wind. The air became suffocating as your advanced force signature took over the atmosphere. "would you be so kind to introduce yourself my love?"

Raising your head, lowering your hood from your head you made eye contact with the Jedi. Their mouths become agape, shock etched onto their faces within seconds. "(y-y/n)?"

"You thought I was weak, but now I’m back to show you the true meaning of power. Let’s see how you handle the darkness you created."

With that the sound of 3 lightsabers were ignited and blood finally shed.

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

DONE! I hope you enjoyed it! It's not my best work, but if you feel otherwise then that is great!😂 For both my own indulgence, and research I went to TikTok to watch edits/clips to get a good look into the way his character is written in the movies. I hope I did him justice, and i conveyed what you envisioned! My years of developed creative writing skills finally kicked in a little over half way when i was writing! I'll edit it at some point, but for now I just want it posted. -L🤍

[lostinforestbound]

I actually wrote this fic back in January, before ever making a tumblr! I had the idea for a while and I wanted to get it out there even if no one would see it, and now it's at over 100 kudos! Never would I have ever thought the fic would be seen this much, and I'm grateful that people like it! This is also an exploration of Rolan's insecurity and guilt being part of Cal and Lia's lives. Enjoy the tumblr version!

Rolan/GN!Tav

Look Away for a Minute

Rolan is frustrated by how his mind constantly clings to the past. It refuses to move on, and he should be over it by now...right? OR A nightmare tortures Rolan in the night, but Tav is there to help him through it.

Word Count: 3k (AO3)

Relevant Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Nightmare sequence, Mentions of abuse, Mentions of vomiting, Rolan's POV

The crushing pressure of hands around Rolan's throat is too much, cutting off his airway so he couldn’t breathe, and so tight that it could snap his neck in any moment. His sharp nails desperately scrape at the wrists positioned there, trying to find a breath that will never come, his tail lashing out from under him. He wants to fight harder, kick until his bones crack, scream until his voice is gone, bite until his jaw locks and breaks his teeth, but an unrelenting fear paralyzes him in place.

He can’t see the face above him through unfocused eyes; it's cast in an unnatural shadow with cruel blue irises staring down at him. It's unblinking, watching him struggle with a lack of reaction as his throat goes dry as sand, the urge to cough rising in need.

Lorroakan.

Rolan rasps, his nails- his claws leaving angry red welts across Lorroakan's forearms. He didn’t know the answer. What was the gods damned answer? Was it something about divination runes? The creation of the Weave? Or was it the Spellplague in the Year of Blue Fire? N-No, no, it had to be about the Nightsong, the relic that he so aggressively sought after. He can still fix this! He can correct himself and apologize. He'll grovel if he has to, knock his own pride down a few pegs to be more convincing and pathetic, just as his mentor wants him to be. He can do better, he has to do better, for Cal and Lia. After what they've both been through for him, for this damn apprenticeship he wanted so badly, it is the least he can do for them. He will-

“What is this, hm?”

Another face appears above him, one he should be so familiar with but it faded so much over time. It's been so many years since he looked at her portrait, one that was gifted to him by Cal when he was welcomed into their little family; he couldn't bear to look at it again, not after her funeral. Her eyes are just as vicious as Lorroakan’s, but she is someone Rolan fears much more. It makes his blood run cold, body shaking as if he was dunked in the frozen waters of Neverwinter.

“You were the sweetest child, but I see who you are now: A manipulator, and a thief.”

Please, no-

“You stole my family, little one. You stole them away for me. Did you wait idly for me to die in order to take them for yourself?”

The moment he tries to tear his eyes away, a new set of hands forces his head still with a grip on his face, maintaining the eye contact. He chokes still, desperate tears filling his eyes as his struggle intensifies. The tiefling couldn't even give her the courtesy of pleading for mercy, or to apologize, he just wanted to run away; after all, he is a coward. One who couldn't even look at a portrait of the person he thought of as his own mother.

These hands have delicate fingers but are just as tight, enough to bruise his fragile jaw; when did he get so small? “Little Rolan, a greedy child. I gave you my home, I fed you warm meals, and I gave you a bed; was that not enough for you? A selfish boy you are! A pitiful thing. The one time I feed a stray, he comes back for more. He takes and takes and never stops. They don’t need you like you need them. They don’t even want you.“

He knows, he knows that uncomfortably well, but by the gods does he need them. He needs them so badly. If they were gone, he would have nothing else.

He feels himself grow limp as more unnerving words are whispered. Most of it he can’t even register anymore, but he knows one thing for sure.

“They would be better off without you burdening them.”

He wakes with a sharp gasp, sitting up with a disoriented mind with wide golden eyes. Instinctively, he digs his nails into his neck, but it takes him a long moment to realize that there is no hands there, no hands to choke him. He breathes in heavy to get air in his lungs, heart racing as he takes in the dark room around him. He’s in his bedroom. He’s not on the cold wood or even in his workspace inside the tower, where he used to be tutored. He’s alive. He's not suffocating. He’s not dying. He’s not dying. Everything is as it should be.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he tries to breathe through his rising panic, but it's not working; every time he sucks air in, it's never enough. He either ends up coughing or barely breathing at all. Nothing and everything feels real at the same time, is he even in the room? The silence presses against his ears, making him feel so, so isolated in the worst way possible. Lorroakan is dead. He can’t hurt him anymore, so why does he still dream of him?

Why does he still dream of her?

“Rolan…” A sleepy voice mutters, before he feels steady arms wrap around his waist, pulling him into another body. He bristles momentarily, almost spiraling into panic once more until he realizes who it is that holds him.

It’s warm, and it’s secure.

It's Tav. It’s safe.

He lets out an exhausted, shaky sigh, leaning back into the hold. His skin glistens from the cold sweat he woke up to. When he lifts up his hands to try and hold theirs, he sees how much they shake; his fingers twitch uncontrollably, and he idly notices that there were small sparks of magic attempting to get conjured. The spell is unrecognizable with how unstable it looks, he can't tell which one it is. Mage Armor? Magic Missile? Thunderwave?-

He feels Tav leave gentle kisses on the back of his neck and across his shoulder blades, making his internal questions pause. “Are you alright?” They question softly, but they know the answer; they know him too well, but it seems they want to hear him say it anyways.

A deep breath echoes in the bedroom, and he squeezes his eyes shut once more as the energy fades from his hands. “No.”

“Do you wish to speak on it?”

“No.”

“For later then. Come here.” They murmur, pulling him to lay back down.

He relents, but he feels disgusting with all the sweat. Gods, why is he sweating so much, and why does he feel cold? The dream was over, it was done.

Tav did not seem to mind the fact he clings to them, turning and letting him hide his face in their neck. It was a little awkward with the horns, but they make it work with their chin resting on his head. He feels their hand start to scratch at his scalp, and the amount of relief that gives him is absolutely embarrassing. His tail curls around their leg to keep them close, and the comforting sensations almost make him want to cry. They peck the top of his head, nuzzling into his sweat damp hair.

He doesn’t deserve this. He really doesn’t.

He’s unsure how long they lay there, it was mostly him trying to calm his heart. He feels fingers gently trace the ridges on his skin, cautious in how they touch. They were sensitive, and the trailing warmth made him shiver. He knows they’re trying to distract him; It’s sweet of them, truly, but his depression grips his chest so deeply. Usually he can handle these on his own. He’s a confident man, and he knows he has Cal and Lia by his side. That they want to stay by his side. If they thought anything else, they wouldn't stay in this tower he took over after the death of his teacher.

But some days are like these, where he can barely move and thinks he deserves nothing after butting into a family that will never be his.

Tav shouldn’t have to deal with this, though they think otherwise, it seems. It isn’t the first time this happened, he's had night terrors that sent him in a panic so bad he vomited and he can't even remember what it was even about. It bewildered and embarrassed him, but Tav didn't even say anything about it, they only cleaned him and the mess up as if it was not a problem. It won’t be the last time this will occur, no matter how much he wants it to be. But that’s what Tav signed up for, happily. They wanted Rolan, with all of his flaws and night terrors.

They shift slightly, pulling Rolan's body on top of them so he can rest there, arms snaking around his waist. Holding him close, their grip was loose in case this wasn’t okay. But Rolan only lays limply against them, energy gone but unable to go back sleep.

He just sees eyes.

“-ght, Rolan?”

Oh, they’re calling him. He can’t force his tongue to work. It feels heavy in his mouth.

They push some hair away from his eyes before cupping his jaw. “My love,” He listens, but their voice is muffled when it tries to reach his ears, a constant ring blocking the sound. It’s so loud. So loud. So loud-

A part of him startles when they start rubbing at his ears. They’re particularly sensitive, they know this after nibbling on them at some point in an attempt to be playful, and it’s enough to make him whine at the touch.

“Rolan,” They murmur, kissing him right between the eyes. “Come back to me, lovely. You'll be okay; you're with me, yes?”

He wants to believe that, even just for a little bit.

He buries his face in their chest, wanting to lay there. To be held, to be comforted. Doesn’t he deserve that after all the bullshit he’s been through? After the torture, the pain, the loneliness?

No.

No he doesn’t, and the thought alone makes him want to drink until he's numb, just like at Last Light Inn, where he thought his siblings, his only family, were dead and gone. Or possibly being tortured at Moonrise Towers. He doesn't know which one was worse to think about, his imagination knowing no bounds in its creativity. What would they have done, if the True Souls decided to hurt them? Would they take their eyes and cut out their tongues like how they did with Asharak-

Before his mind could grow darker, thumbs continue stroking his pointy ears as Tav speaks, “What’s the difference between Transmutation and Evocation? I keep forgetting...” Tav quizzes, feigning innocence.

A foolish question, even a child could answer it…but it’s distracting.

“Transmutation will physically alter the form of an object, or fundamentally change something in its entirety. Evocation is damaging effects mostly used in combat, but will also be used to heal wounds, as you see with clerics.”

“And what is another school useful in combat?”

“Abjuration; it specializes in defense protocols but some spells can be useful in combat, like Counterspell.”

They hum at the response, pulling him up more to kiss his forehead, right between his devilish horns. “You’re so smart, Master Rolan.”

He lets out a stuttering breath. Gods, this night is awful. He feels awful, Tav shouldn't have to deal with this.

When they suddenly start to sit up, his already fragile heart dropped into his nauseated stomach. Did they get sick of him already? Are they going to leave? Will they-

“Let’s take a bath.”

This snaps him out of his raging thoughts, staring at their eyes. "It’s late,” He states after a long moment of contemplating.

“So? Who’s going to be knocking on our door telling us not to take a bath in our own home? It’s your tower,” They say, helping him sit up as well before smiling teasingly. “Let’s take a bath, I’m sure being all sweaty is grossing you out.”

He is reluctant, but doesn’t say no when they help him out of the bed. It felt as if his body refused to move. It’s tense and rigid, his tail curled around his own leg. He can't look at them, and he’s unsure if it’s out of shame or out of fear. Fear of what? Tav? No, no! That would be idiotic to fear them. They love him. He loves them. He loves them so much it hurts. If he could rip out his very soul and gift it to them, he would do so without a second thought.

Their hand holds his firmly, something to ground him into their reality, and they lead him towards their private bathing room, decorated in lovely tapestries with a variety of colors. Some have subtle designs and are more abstract, while others have vivid images of Tav's heroics of Baldur's Gate. It's a courtesy of some citizens that they were gifted, but he cannot tell yet if they even like them there or not; still, he hung them up high for display because...well, he is so proud of them, how could he not be? He certainly thinks some of them are tacky, and he voices that opinion often, and it always makes his love laugh. The sweet, delicate smell of lavender hits his senses after Tav fills their large basin with water, bubbles forming almost instantly.

He watches their movements, seeing them strip off their clothes and kicking them off the side before they approach him again. Their hands smooth over his forearms, and they peck his nose as they unlace his trousers, stripping him as well. He lets them, a feral instinct inside of him begging for the touch, begging for any form of love they’re willing to give. He wants all of it, and he’s selfish for it.

They lead him into the basin first, getting in themselves after he’s settled. They then gently turn him around so he could press his back against their chest. It would be easier to wash his hair this way.

Both of them exchange no words, they only bathe Rolan while they hum to themselves, as if this was normal. This isn’t normal. He doesn’t deserve to be pampered when he’s done absolutely nothing to earn it. But he’s also too weak to resist.

So he lets them run their fingers through his hair, their nails scratching his scalp and rubbing the soap in. He closes his eyes when requested, letting the warm wash over him. Even when his hair and body are clean from the cold sweat, Tav insists on massaging his shoulders, working out any knots he may have. Being the master of a tower is stressful, after all.

During this he zones out, the silence deafening him as his thoughts run rampant once more. He hears them speak to him but the phrases never form coherently. Flashes of the dream drag him down into a form of despair, boring into him like ice pick.

His eyes start to sting, but then his worst fear comes to life; he starts to weep. He’s cried very few times in his life, and even then, those few times they at least warranted tears. He was allowed to cry. But this? In front of Tav and over a gods damned dream?

It only gets worse, because the weeping turns into full blown sobs, body curling forward with his face almost touching the dirty water as he hugs himself tight. His body thinks it’s in danger, somehow, and he can’t pull himself together. Voices tell him he’s nothing and deserves nothing.

Tav soothes him, leaning over him and littering kisses across his shoulders. They say nothing, and he’s thankful for it. He can’t imagine trying to speak in this state, when he tries his words die on his tongue. It's as if like he’s choking all over again, and the urge to cough grows.

Eventually his sobs delude to into sniffles and barely silent whimpers. Tav still doesn’t speak, nuzzling into the soaked skin on the back of his neck. When he calms down, Tav helps him out of the basin after getting out themselves, drying him off and changing him into new night clothes, one that was clean and softer than the one he chose before. He felt pathetic not being able to change himself, but he had no will to do so.

“I’m sorry,” He hears himself croak out. “You should be sleeping.”

Gods, they shouldn't have to even deal with him. What he went through is only a fraction of what they've been through. They saved the entire Sword Coast, possibly the entire world from the Absolute, all while they had a damn tadpole in their heads threatening to turn them and their friends into illithids. Yet, they're doing so gods damn well in their lives, a greedy part of him thinking it's unfair. Why are they fine while he is not? How did they do it?

“There’s nothing to apologize for. You had a bad dream, it happens more often than you would think,” They say, tracing their lips against his cheek while he processes the implication of their statement. “We don’t have to talk about it now. Just know that I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

Though he lacks the energy for it, his mind wants to kiss them so deeply a never let go. He wants to drown in them, in their scent, in their body- damn it all, why is he so needy? He hates- no, he loathes how needy he is, how fucking desperate he gets. It's pathetic; he is so utterly pathetic. Pitiful. Miserable.

When they pull him back to their shared bed and lay down once more, they let him get as close as he wants, and he is thankful for it. It ends up with arms around them tight, him burying his face into their neck while his tail curls around their thigh. He wants to be close tonight, a silent plea for them to let him know everything is okay.

So they indulge his wish, playing with his hair all the while. He probably won’t sleep much tonight, but that’s okay by them, they always preach. It’s not the first time, and it won’t be the last, and they can and will live with that.

Healing is never linear, after all.

[golbrocklovely]

a witching hour // sam golbach

A/N: so i actually thought of this fic as a colby fic first, but i needed a fic idea for sam and figured this one worked well for him as well. idk if you've ever seen halloweentown two, but there is a party scene where kalabar turns everyone into what their costumes are, and that's kinda what this one is like. except with a bit of sexy twist lol hope you enjoy and happy 13 nights of halloween !!

prompt: something is incredible off at sam and colby's halloween party. everyone is acting like their costumes, and nothing makes sense. and then you run into sam… dressed as a vampire. || fem!reader x sam golbach

trigger warning: vampire!sam, cursing, drinking, party scene, mentions of blood and killers but you don't see any of that, blood drinking obviously, crush-confession, twist ending?, manipulation powers used on reader, possessive language used by sam, also he's a bit of a dick in this lol but only slightly

word count: 3381

I constantly run late to everything: meetings, work, important events, and on this night... parties.

It was Sam and Colby's annual Halloween bash. After yet another successful Hell Week, the boys were throwing an all-out banger with every influencer in sight. And I, like usual, ran late to the party.

I'm not sure if you can be late to a party like this, but my texts from Sam and Colby said otherwise.

My excuse this time? I couldn't figure out my costume. I couldn't decide between two costumes, so I ended up going as a witch. Basic, I know, but classic. I finally called an uber, after pregaming a little at my apartment, and headed over to their place. On the way over, a flash of green lightning lit up the sky for a brief moment, in the same direction as their house. I stared at the window, puzzled. There's no way only one flash of thunder would happen if it was going to rain. Especially being green. It must have been a light show or fireworks nearby.

I got dropped off at the front of their house, sending them a quick text that I was outside. As I got to their gate, where usually there would have been a line with a security guard, there was nothing. Maybe I wasn't late after all and instead was super early. Checking the flyer they sent out, that wasn't true. It was already after midnight, and the party started at ten.

I walked into their property, shutting the gate behind me. I expected to see tons of people out front, since that usually was the case; but there was no one. The music was still playing loudly in the house, so there must have been people inside. As I walked towards the front door, I passed by a pile of Barbie dolls.

Who would bring a bunch of Barbies with them?

I glanced at the dolls, bending down, and picking one up. She was very pretty, but her outfit was unlike other Barbie fits I had seen before. Something about it was very revealing for a kids' toy. Granted, the last time I played with Barbies was when I was 10 so maybe my memory wasn't proof enough.

I stared at the doll's face a bit longer. Something about it was so familiar. She looked like someone I knew in the eeriest way. Staring at it too long, I thought I saw it blink. I lightly dropped the doll on the ground, standing back up again.

Just when I was about to open the front door, a soft 'meow' echoed behind me. I turned around and saw two cats, one all black and then another one.... that was pink.

Who the hell would dye their cat pink?

I wanted to reach out and pet them, but they scattered from the noise in front of me. The front door had opened on its own. I stepped forward, walking into Sam and Colby's home.

The place was completely trashed.

Furniture was ripped up, the mirror was smashed in, tables flipped over, cups all over the ground. It looked like a stampede ran through the house. I walked over the broken glass, looking around for anyone. I could see out the back door that no one was there either. Or if they were, they were hiding.

"Sam? Colby? Guys?" I called out, trying to reach for a light.

"Don't do that!" Responded a soft voice from a closet nearby.

I turned around and saw a friend of mine, Sarah, dressed as Rapunzel. She waved me over, opening the door quickly. I jumped over the broken furniture and made it over to her.

"Sarah, what the hell happened?" I asked as she closed the door.

"I'm sorry, you must have me mistaken for someone else. My name is Rapunzel." She smiled.

I rolled my eyes. "Okay, very funny, Sarah. But tell me. What happened? Did someone break into the house?"

"I don't really remember everything that happened. Everyone was outside, having fun. It was like the lantern festival! And then, a witch appeared on top of the house and yelled out something. It must have been a spell of some sort. And everybody started running." Sarah gasped, recounting the tale.

"How is that possible? And lantern festival? Why are you taking this costume to heart? I don't think this is the time for that." I glared, annoyed.

"This isn't a costume. This is how I always dress." She argued quietly.

"Rapunzel!" Someone yelled from behind the door. "Let me in! It's Velma."

"What's the password?" Sarah questioned, raising up a frying pan in defense.

Where the fuck did you get a frying pan from?

"Scooby snacks." Replied the voice.

"Oh okay," Sarah opened the door politely. "It is you Velma! I just had to be sure."

"You can never be too safe out there." Alice, another friend of mine, responded. I glanced up and down at her costume: Velma. From Scooby Doo.

I huffed, "Okay, you both seriously need to tell me what the fuck is going on?"

They both gasped. Sarah covered her ears lightly, in unison they hushed, "Language!"

"You're kidding me, right?" I deadpanned.

"Who are you?" Alice questioned.

"This is.... uh," Sarah started, then turned to me, smiling. "You actually haven't said your name."

"I'm Y/N..... we've known each other for like five years?" I scowled.

"We have?" They replied.

I rubbed my temples, feeling like my brain was going pop out of my eyes from how annoyed and confused I was. "Alright, can either one of you explain what is happening right now? Quickly."

"I can't remember much, but I've been searching for some clues while I was running around the house. What I remember happening was a witch of some kind appeared on top of the roof-" Alice began.

"Said some form of spell, and everyone started running? Yeah, 'Rapunzel' told me that already." I quipped.

"It wasn't just any spell, it was spell turned everyone into their costumes... whatever that means." Alice stated, putting her hands on her hips.

My face dropped. "I'm sorry, what?"

"Oh! Green lightning flashed over the sky when she said the spell!" Sarah jumped, excitedly. "She must have been an evil witch."

"Witches aren't real. It most likely was a trick of light, kind of like what magicians use to hide their tricks." Alice mentioned.

"I saw the lightning on my way over here...." I shook my head, sighing. "There's no way this is real. You guys must be pranking me or something. Is this Sam and Colby's doing?"

"I don't know who a 'Sam' or 'Colby" is." Sarah replied innocently.

"The guys that invited you to this party??" I pulled out my phone, pulling up a picture that one of them had posted on their snapchats. "These guys!"

"The vampire one went upstairs, and the pirate one is outside fighting a prince in the backyard." Alice pointed out, pointing to Sam, and then Colby.

"Fighting? What do you mean by that?" I furrowed my brow.

"With swords." Alice said plainly.

"Oh no! Your hand is bleeding!" Sarah gaped, gazing at Alice's hand.

"I must have cut it looking around for clues." Alice commented.

"What clues are you even...." I grumbled, trailing off and glaring up at the ceiling.

Sarah wrapped her hair around Alice's hand, holding it lightly. She then began to sing. "Flower, gleam and glow..."

Her hair began to light up slowly, starting from her scalp and eventually ending at the ends of her braided hair.

I can only imagine how expense that wig was.

Sarah pulled her hair away from Alice's cut... and it was gone.

I blinked. "I'm sorry, am I super drunk right now, or did your hair just heal her cut?"

"Jinkies..." Alice whispered, staring at her hand and blushing.

I took a deep breath, needing to get out of this closet. "I'm gonna go find Sam."

"He's a vampire, right? My mom warned me about men with sharp teeth. Be careful." Sarah informed.

"Right..." I opened the closet door, turning back around for a moment. "Hey Alice? I mean, Velma?"

"Yes?" She asked.

I grabbed her glasses off her face, dropping them onto the floor.

Sarah, Rapunzel, whatever, frowned dramatically. "Well, that wasn't very nice.

"My glasses.... I can't see without my glasses." Alice, Velma, whatever waved her hands around, trying to find where I dropped them.

"You don't even wear glasses! Oh my God, you guys are the worst!" I groaned, stepping out the closet and shutting the door.

I rushed over to the stairs, needing to get upstairs as soon as possible. As I reached the top, I gazed down over the railing. I watched as someone dressed as Ghostface ran after.... Britney Spears.

Britney Spears was at this party? Like 'Baby One More Time' Britney? There's no way. Maybe they weren't joking about the witch turning everyone into- NO. This is all some weird joke, probably pulled by Sam and Colby because of how often I'm late.

This isn't happening, this isn't happening, this is NOT happening.

I opened the bedroom door to what used to be Colby's room. I wanted to see the entire backyard from a safe distance. The room was dark, the only light coming from outside by the drawn curtains. I raced over to the windows, looking around outside. The backyard was equally as trashed.

A man-wolf monster stood on top of the slide for the pool, letting out a deep, animalistic howl. By the basketball courts, Colby was sword fighting with a guy dressed in a prince costume. Other people, or characters, were hiding around, peaking out occasionally from their spots. And I swore for a moment I saw someone fly away on a broom stick.

"What the fuck?" I whispered, my eyes widening at the scene.

"It's dangerous out there." A familiar voice rang out.

I jumped, a squeak leaving my lips as I turned around. In the shadows of the room was Sam, gazing at me mischievously.

"Oh my God, Sam. You scared the shit out of me." I clutched my chest, taking a deep breath. "What the fuck is going on?"

"A witch did this to us." Sam replied casually.

"That's what Alice and Sarah said. That a witch turned everyone into their costumes. Wait, how do you remember?" I inquired.

He shrugged, stepping towards me. "I'm just a generic vampire. So I guess I remember everything, and I'm still me."

"And since Colby dressed up as a pirate, he thinks he's a swash-buckler?" I joked half-heartedly.

"I guess so." Sam chuckled.

I questioned, "How long will this last?"

"An hour. So, in ten minutes it will be over." He confirmed, crossing his arms tightly.

I sat down on the edge of the bed, "Oh, well that's good. Since I think I saw Ghostface trying to kill Britney Spears."

"That would be such a waste of blood..." Sam's voice deepened.

I leaned away from his voice, "That was kinda freaky of you to say."

He smirked. "I can't help it. I'm a vampire."

"For ten more minutes. Maybe stay over there until this is all over." I hissed, uncomfortable.

"Why?" He leaned towards me, still far away, "You think I'm gonna bite you?"

"Probably." I teased.

Sam shook his head. "I would only do that if you asked me to."

“Well that's not gonna happen. So, let's stop talking about it.” I sassed.

"I think I can sit next to you though." His body appeared next to mine, sitting on the edge of the bed.

I jumped up, turning to him. "Jesus! You have fucking speed abilities?"

He hummed, "I guess so. You know what other powers I have?"

"No, what?" I jeered slightly.

"I can make people do what I say." He grinned wickedly, his fangs shining in the light.

I raised an eyebrow at him, "How do you even know that?"

"I told all the people hiding in this room to leave and go somewhere else. Some of them are outside in the backyard." He answered.

"Well, that was a little rude of you to do." I narrowed my eyes.

He scoffed. "This is my house. I'm allowed to kick people out of it."

"I guess you can. But maybe be a bit more conside-" I started.

He cut me off, his tone changed. "How would you feel if I drank your blood?"

"What?" I turned and looked at him.

His eyes caught mine, and suddenly I was entranced. "How would you feel if I drank your blood? Be honest."

The truth came out of me easily, I couldn't stop it from slipping from my lips. "I wouldn't mind it."

"And why is that?" He continued, standing up.

"Because I've had a crush on you for a while. Plus, vampires are really hot. And you as a vampire is, like, extra hot." I admitted in a daze.

"Wow...." Sam beamed, pulling his gaze away. "Now that's insane."

The moment I could think for myself, I spun around covering my face. "Oh my God, Sam! Why would you make me say that?!"

"I didn't make you say anything! I just made you tell the truth." He explained defensively, almost jokingly.

I whined, "Still! You didn't have to make me do that."

"So... do you want me to bite you?" He asked again.

I turned back to him, pissed. "No, I don't."

"Really?" His eyes somehow caught mine again, and I was lost. "Be honest."

"I would totally be into it," I squeezed my eyes shut as Sam looked away smugly. "Oh my God, you suck."

"Only if you want me to...." He teased.

"That's not..." When I opened my eyes again, his were already boring into mine. I felt lightheaded, and immediately could barely think. "Fun...ny."

"Get closer to me." He ordered.

My body moved without my permission, stepping up to Sam. I could feel his warmth radiate against my skin from how close we were together.

"Do you actually have a crush on me?" He queried.

I nodded my head. "Yeah, I think so."

"You think so?" His hands trailed up and down my arms, soothingly. "Would it be a bit stronger if I bit you?"

"It would." I revealed, unable to lie.

"Okay then. Good to know," he snickered. "Tilt your head and show me your neck."

I followed Sam's command, tilting my head to the side and allowing him more access to my neck. Sam's hold around me tightened, his mouth lowering down until he was almost against my neck.

"I'm not gonna hurt you, Y/N. I would never hurt you," his voice was just above a whisper. Sultry and seductive. "Also.... I like you too."

I exhaled, "Wha-?"

Suddenly his fangs sunk deep into my neck. A soft wince escaped my throat, my body tensing up. I gripped onto his arms, my nails almost digging in. It was a bit painful but exhilarating at the same time. I felt high, each breath feeling like a rush of dopamine.

Sam moaned against my neck, removing his mouth for a second. His tongue lapped at my skin, getting all of the extra blood that fell from his mouth. "Fuck, you taste heavenly."

"Sam, I think you shou-" I mumbled, my voice raspy.

He plunged his teeth back in, a harsh gasp falling from my lips. I thought of pushing him away, but instead my hands pulled him in more. My vision began to blur, and my legs could barely stay up on their own. I felt my legs give out, but Sam held me up, his torso crushing into mine.

"Don't worry, Y/N, I got you. I'll never let you go. You're mine, forever." He growled.

"S-Sam." I choked.

My eyes began to flutter, my breathing slowing down to an almost halt. And still, he continued to drink and drink. I felt like I was floating and falling all at the same time. And I didn't even care. It felt so good to be in his arms, to have him consume me.

I could hear a soft whisper in the distance. It sounded familiar but was muffled. It grew louder and louder by second, saying the same thing over and over again. Finally, as it sounded closer, I could make out what it was saying: my name.

And then like a freight train, someone screamed it. "Y/N!"

My eyes popped open, focusing immediately on Sam's face. He was looking down at me concerned, almost in a panic.

"Y/N, oh thank God. I thought we were gonna have to call 911 or something." Sam sat back on his knees, his chest heaving.

I glanced around as my eyes adjusted to the light. I was in Colby's room, but from an angle I wasn't used to. I tried to sit up, suddenly realizing I was on the floor. Sam propped up an arm around me sitting me up and leaning me against the couch.

"Wha... happened?" I uttered, rubbing my neck.

"Well, we were all downstairs partying, and you said you didn't feel good all of sudden. So we both came up here, and I went to use the bathroom. And when I came out, you were passed out on the floor." He responded, worried.

I squinted at him, confused out of my mind. "So... there wasn't a witch that turned everyone into their costumes?"

He blinked. "Should I still call 911? How hard did you hit your head?"

"No. No, I'm okay." Sam helped me up slowly, still propping me against the couch, "I must have had one hell of a dream when I passed out."

"Are you feeling okay? Tell me, seriously." He looked into my eyes.

I glanced away quickly, "Yeah, I'm... fine. I don't even feel drunk. What time is it?"

He checked his watch. "It's 1:05."

"After midnight..." I realized, muttering.

He furrowed his brow. "What?"

"Nothing. I'm okay Sam. Really. You know how I can get sleepy after I drink too much. Maybe that's what happened." I tried to reassure.

"Yeah maybe..." He trailed off.

"I'm gonna go to the bathroom real quick." I stated, standing up completely.

Sam stepped towards me. "Do you need help?"

"No, I'm okay." I grinned at his nervousness, "Seriously, I'm fine. Don't worry."

I trudged over to the bathroom, leaning against the sink to collect my thoughts.

So.... that was all a dream I had while passed out? Holy shit, I'm never drinking again.

I looked up, scanning my face slowly. I looked the same as I did when I left my house. Except, I had no recollection of how I got here. I mean, in the dream I took an uber... so maybe that's what happened? But God; that dream felt so real. It truly felt like Sam was drinking my blood and draining me. And holy shit, I confessed I had feelings for him!

I sighed deeply, looking over my face once more. My eyes drifted further down and widened at the sight. Two fang marks were right by my jugular, right where Sam had been biting me.

"Sam! Can you come in here for a second?" I yelled, my breathing speeding up.

A moment later the door opened, Sam entering. "What's wrong?"

I spun to him, glaring. "Why do I have two fang marks in my neck... like a vampire bit me?"

"What are you talking about?" He puzzled.

I pointed to my neck. "Right here! What are these?"

"Y/N, there's nothing there." He informed.

"Yes there i-" I turned around, looking in the mirror. He was right. The marks were gone. My skin was clear, as if they never existed in the first place. "Oh."

"Are you sure you're okay?" Sam wrapped an arm around me sweetly, rubbing my back.

I stuttered, "Y-Yeah. I must have just saw something."

"Must have. Because like I said, there's nothing there." His gaze met mine in the mirror, "Right, Y/N?"

"Right. There's nothing there." I said dreamily.

"Good," he smiled warmly. "Now, let's get back down to the party. If you're feeling up to it, of course."

I nodded, taking Sam's hand and leaving the bedroom, following him back to the party.

[americas1suiteheart]

Hi! Hope you are doing well! So, Tangerine x Reader: any headcanons about Tan as a partner? Thanks!

I'm doing great in fact, thank you for the request! Headcannons are my favourite thing to write, hope this is fitted to your taste.

Dating Tangerine Would Include...

Tangerine x GN! Reader Headcannons

Warnings; Violence, smoking, violence, it's a bullet train fic, guys

Notes; I love writing for Tan so much you guys have no idea, I get to cuss as much as I want to in these fics

Oh man, he's such a softie for you, you have absolutely no idea.

He can go from being the same grumpy prick to other people and have one of the worst days but when he's around you he's calling you love and darling, clinging onto you practically and just showering you in kisses.

He's so clingy, as soon as either of you get home he's begging you to sit with him on the couch just so you could cuddle. And if your making dinner expect him to try to help but just end up holding you by your waist the whole time.

Lemon thinks it's the cutest thing how tangerine acts around you. He thinks its hilarious how quickly Tan switches up with you.

"-you're the one that doesn't fucking know how to go on about this job correctly! You're such a fucking idiot sometimes Lemon it's insu-" Tangerine yells at his brother before being interrupted by you.

"Whats going on? What are you two fighting about now?" You say in annoyance.

"Nothing darling, just please go back to the living room I'll be right there okay love," Tangerine tells you softly, pressing a kiss to your head before you leave.

"You're a right fuckin' sap for them, Tan," Lemon snickers at Tangerines change of attitude and tone.

"I'll put your fuckin' head through a wall, honest to god Lemon."

He just loves when your laying with eachother and you run your hands through his curls.

I'd like to think you help him take care of his hair actually. Like, he would know how to take care of it properly before, but he let's you put different product in his hair to make sure he doesn't miss any areas on his hair, (In reality he just wants to be touched by you in some way).

Being a part time nurse for him and Lemon definitely became a thing almost immediately after you two started dating. Constant cleaning of wounds and such, just constantly.

The days when he's on missions he's constantly texting you as much as he can, checking up on you to make sure you're doing well.

There are times where he's come home a couple days or even weeks later than he had originally anticipated without being able to contact you, and you'd be absolutely furious, (sometimes not knowing that he wasn't able to contact you at all).

"What the fuck happened, Tan! I thought you were dead. You hadn't even texted me or anything, you were supposed to be back 5 days ago! You had me absolutely worried sick!" You yell.

Tan had been gone for almost 2 weeks when the mission was only supposed to last a week. And on top of that he hadn't phoned or even tried to text you. If it weren't for Lemon telling you that they were fine 2 days before they showed up you would've assumed the worst had happened.

"I really am sorry my darling, the mission was just much harder than we'd expected and we got stuck there longer than nessasary." He explained quietly.

"But why hadn't you contacted me at all? If it weren't for lemon calling me I would've thought you two were gone for good!"

"My telephone got broken by some prick the 3rd day into the mission whilst we were fighting. And I didn't think to used lemon's phone because I was so frazzled the whole time. Really darling, I didn't mean to frighten or worry you."

"Alright.. Sorry I freaked out on you but I really was worried. I'm just glad you're okay now." You walk to Tangerine, pulling him into a hug.

" 's alright love, I'm glad you and I are good too. Let's go wash up and go to bed, I've got blood all over me and my fuckin' clothes and it don't feel too great," Tangerine says, picking you up and taking you to your shared bedroom.

Loves taking baths with you, taking turns washing eachother off makes him feel all warm inside, that you trust eachother enough at that point in your relationship. He thinks it's so sweet though.

Sometimes when he goes outside to have a smoke he'll invite you out with him so you two can just talk. If you smoke he'll probably share one with you too.

Very protective.. Being he's an assassin and all, he'd most definitely go to extremes if someone had been bothering you. Some random person flirted with you? Dead. A someone you knew in high school used to bully you? Dead. Any person that has hurt you no matter how long ago will probably end up dead.

You two are so good for eachother though. Strangely the healthiest relationship you will ever have. Please don't break this poor boy's heart. He will be absolutely devastated and blame himself for it. Underneath all of that muscle and confidence he's very emotional and sensitive.

Will ask to marry you and even possibly start a family with you if you're up for it. (Adoption or old fashioned depending on your biological sex).

Loved writing this, and I was infact so excited that I finished this in just 2 hours🤭

[redphlox]

No matter how bnha ends, I'm grateful that I became invested because it brought me joy, and it gifted me the euphoric experience of getting to know one of my favorite characters ever: Touya Todoroki, Dabi. I will always love him, and he will always have a special place in my heart. Nothing can change that or take that away from me. Shouto, too. The soba brothers are eternal to me.

It's so typical of me to be drawn to the mysterious, cold, brooding characters, haha. Shouto and Dabi immediately captured my attention when I first watched/read bnha with @fox-conscious. I took a break from following the series for a few years until November 2020, when I casually logged into Tumblr after months of not checking and saw chapter 290 Dabi's Dance leaks. It must have been fate. Suddenly, I was fully immersed in the manga again, excited that the obvious familial connection between my two favorites was officially confirmed. This reveal reignited my excitement and gave me something to focus on and look forward to during a challenging first semester in grad school, when I was on the cusp of realizing I needed professional help for my eating disorder.

To deal with the stress and have fun, I turned to reading and writing meta, and trying to make friends to share the experience with. That's the most important thing that has come from following this series... I've met so many incredible people who mean a lot to me:

@haleigh-sloth has become a really dear and close friend of mine. We met because of this manga and bonded over crepes, breakfast foods, pasta or ramen dinners, shopping at the mall, swimming in the river, walking her dogs, sleepovers, traveling, and road trips because of our shared love of the characters and story. We are basically the same person and constantly say the same things at the same time. Through the ups and downs of school, work, moving, and even now, we've always had each other's backs and shared countless moments of laughter and ugly cackling because we can't take shit seriously, ever. She's one of my best friends for life and I can't imagine NOT having her around!

@todomitoukei was one of the first friends I made in this fandom. I can always count on her to make the funniest jokes I've ever heard, especially during a completely serious conversation, and I'm astounded how smart, quick-witted, and talented she is. Truly an inspiration. I always look forward to seeing notifications that she messaged me because she brightens my day <3

I've had the great pleasure of meeting and hugging @hamliet TWICE! She has a generous heart and an inviting, calm aura. Her kindness and intelligence are remarkable. I genuinely enjoy discussing all sorts of topics with her, both silly and serious: life, hopes and dreams, fears and daily struggles, funny memes, reading and writing. I also love seeing her pet photos and can't wait to meet them in the future.

@transhawks is truly my most insane friend, and I say that lovingly and in the most ironic way because he's level-headed, creative, articulate, and self-aware. I'm always learning from him. I can talk to him for hours and never run out of things to say, and I always look forward to his insightful commentary about anything and everything.

And of course, I'm grateful for all the discord shenanigans with my friends: watching the anime together, voice calls, memes, sharing ideas, etc. @chocolate-biscuit who always pops into the chat with funny one-liners that leave me cackling for days when they flash in my head randomly, @bootlickerhawks who is the bestest horse person ever and I get excited to see on my dash, @helga-grinduil who is the saltiest and funniest person on this hellsite and also happens to make the best bnhaedits in this entire fandom, @jecook who is one of the sweetest people I've ever met and can't wait to read fix-it fics from, @mettywiththenotes who sends cute dog pictures and makes the most hilarious memes. Together we are all unhinged, and I love it. Despite living in different time zones, different counties, we've all create a fun space to cohabitate, and I think that's really cool and beautiful.

Hmm. Looks like the real treasure was the friends I made along the way, and the shared trauma of having our favorite characters mishandled by their creator was worth it. Can't wait to keep writing fics, making memes, and making new friends like @shortstrawberryshake because of this manga. And, I can't wait to keep loving Touya and Shouto Todoroki, of course <3