#and the new pain medicine just wore off and everything fucking hurts

[australet789]

im also with a fever so going to sleep asap

[dirtytransmasc]

TW: VERY DARK AND SUICIDE ATTEMPT (kind of)

Prompt :

He was six

Norm found him with his wrist slit

“Why’d you do this kiddo?”

“I wanted to get rid of the demon blood”

Jakes reaction

Neytiri stitched him up with an unreadable expression

IF THIS MAKES YOU UNCOMY

I UNDERSTAND, PLEASE DO NOT MAKE THIS IF ITS TO DARK!!!😭

oh my fucking god... it hurts so bad, but its so good. I love dark angst, there aren't many places I won't go, so have no worries anon.

head the trigger warnings above, I don't get super graphic, but I don't skid over any details either. disclaimer, mama!neytiri brain worms are liquefying my brain, so this is a little (a lot) neytiri-centric, cause I can't help it, its the worms I swear.

also, there are like 0 resources on na'vi medicine, so I'm just fucking winging it man, I'm gonna pull some shit out of my literal ass and we're all gonna have to just be ok with that. ~~~

norm wishes he could say he was shocked, surprised that this little boy wanted to hurt himself, let alone went through with it. he should have been gutted, more than he was at least, angry, put off, something. but not that its happened, he saw it from a mile away, he should have noticed, should have stopped it. all he felt was guilt, burning up his heart and knotting up his stomach as he put pressure on spiders tiny wrists, holding his lulling body in his arms. spider was just a kid, a baby, but he's muttering about 'getting rid of demon blood' and 'not belonging' and it being 'better off' if he was gone. it was somehow worse in his childish wording, his perfect innocence and naivety only just beginning to crack as the pain in his little chest began to swell.

it had been the odd quietness from spider's 'room' back in the cave marui's that alerted him to something being wrong. spider was quiet, in a way; when he was out playing with the kids he was loud, laughing, face filled with light and joy, even if something cold still glinted in his eyes. but when he was on his own, having been left behind or told off by some adult, human or na'vi alike, for getting in the way, he would sulk off to the little marui by the shack. but even if he would sit amongst himself, playing with the few figures someone had put time aside to make, attempting to weave a new piece of jewelry or basket, mending the sad little knife he wore on his side. he was always doing something, could be heard humming or sniffling, the sound of his knife on the wetstone or the clunking of wooden figures on each other were a constant. so when norm heard nothing but silence, his gut ticked up, the hair on his neck bristled, his legs carried him much farther they would on the average day until he was staring at spider and his little bloody arms and his little bloody knife and his sad little eyes.

it took only a split second for norm to come back to himself, to rush and pick the boy up before he had enough 'sense' to try and back away (spider never wanted trouble, never wanted to get in the way or be a burden, the fact he didn't try and hide worried norm more then it would of if he did, which was even more concerning in its own right).

he just held spider as tight as he could, his big blue hands easily covering his human wrists, trying to think of what he should do. he should say something, other then "its ok" but what does he say? what do you say to a six-year-old who just tried to kill himself, no, no, "get rid of the demon blood" coursing through his veins?

he wasn't going to lecture him, spider made it clear why he did it, comfort wasn't his strong suit. he could just look at his puffy little cheeks, one side of his mask blooded as he had attempted to wipe his cheek on instinct. so he just repeated a mantra of "I'm here" and "it's ok" and "your ok" until he reached the infirmary, trying to prtend he didn't feel spider slipping further and further away with each passing second.

in the flash of just a few seconds fueled by adrenaline alone, he knew he regretted everything. he was spider's caretaker sure, but he was no father, jake wasn't either, and the boy didn't have a single maternal figure to his name. no mother to kiss his brow at night or admire his accomplishments. he had no one, not truly, and norm allowed to happen, was not only complicit in it, but played a direct role in it. now he may not get to make that up, may not be given the chance to step up, to fix this.

he carried spider to the infirmary hut, knowing he would find someone, anyone, there who could help. part of him knew that mo'at had seen something in the child that brought some sort of pity from her, that maybe just this once, spider wouldn't be so alone in her presence.

when he entered the pod, he found mo'at showing neytiri something, explaining different herbs to her, though he didn't pay enough attention to it the lesson to pull out any identifying features of the herbs in question. both turned to look at him when they heard his rapid breathing, their gaze then shifting to the bloody boy in his arms, the ever-so-faint fogging of the glass that made up most of his exopack, and the ghostly parlor of spider's skin.

"put him down," mo'at commanded, before norm could even speak, clearing her pallet in an instant, "what happened to him?" her voice was firm, almost knowing.

"he...cut himself...intentionally...I don't know how long ago, but I found him in his pod alone and brought him right here."

"intentionally?" neytiri hissed, removing the boy from his arms when he couldn't get himself to comply with the order and holding him so she could listen to the weakening beat of his heart. she tied turniquotes around his upper forearm with the strands of clothing handed to her by her mother, absent-mindedly rocking the little thing where he rested held between her free-er arm and her chest, when the last bits of his consciousness were directed to fussing, no doubt from the pain. she couldn't bring herself to bind them too tight, just enough to control the bleeding, her hands and a bit of cloth could handle the rest.

(mo'at almost lectured her, but she saw that look in her daughter's eyes and knew it would be pointless, a mama bear gets what she wants)

norm had never seen the protective fire in her eyes, normally directed at her children, burn so bright for spider in the last few years she had known him. it scared him, it felt so unnatural that the very gaze he had learned to trust in most cases, froze him like a deer in headlights.

but that question, the tone of it, made his gut sink. how did he explain this, spider was just a baby, and he had slit his own wrists. that on its own was gut-wrenching, but the reason? Eywa have mercy.

"he said... he said he wanted to get rid of his demon blood, so he... he used his own knife and cut his wrists... its a common form of self harm back on earth, to cut yourself, but I don't even know how he would know to do that, why he would do it... I know why, but..." norm felt defeated. he should have seen something.

the look on neytiri's face made him want to tuck his tail between his legs and run off. she placed spider down as gently as one could, face scrunched up with pain and anger as she keeps pressure on both of spider's wrists.

"get jake, he is with the young hunters." she spoke quietly, her voice almost bitter. she didn't know if she blamed him, if she was angry with him, she barely understand how to feel about spider harming himself. all she knew is that he had just given her some of the most heartwrenching news she had heard in her life, so he was getting some of her mirth. norm nodded, racing off with his tail tucked between his legs, only hesitating to take another worried glance at the boy.

neytiri took a deep breath before turning to her mother. "he will need stitches, right?" she had never dealt with an injury quite like this before, the conscious effort in the wound made it clean and to the point, unlike a wound in battle. it strived to do quick, efficient damage, and now, either because she could barely let herself think straight, or because she genuinly didn't know, she couldn't think of the best way to treat it.

"yes, my daughter, but that is the least of his worries. he cut a large vein, those are very difficult to mend, stopping the bleeding will be difficult. he's already lost quite a bit of blood, so we need to be careful. the best thing would be to put a root paste to help clot the bleeding, wrap it up, and stitch it later." mo'at turned to her morter and pestle as she spoke, mixing different herbs, berries, and roots into a dark brown, almost purple, paste.

neytiri, nodded absently, while she picked through the basket at her side for bundles of lumped fibre and soft cloth to hold against his arms. luckily for him, while he did manage to do some damage and with the help of the tourniquets, one wrist had already stopped bleeding a fair bit, and the other was manageable.

in the silence of the hut, her mother working quietly behind her, turning every once and a while to check his breathing or giving her a tincture to clean his wounds with, neytiri was left to think.

demon blood.

he had done this because of the words she and so many spat at the sight of him. he had tried to rid himself of his sins, the sins of his father, the sins of his people; but were they really his to begin with? what had he done, in his six years of life, to have earned the hate he received? was the blood he carried in his veins enough to justify pushing a child to this?

no, she decided, no it was not.

seeing him so pale and lifeless in norms arms woke something in her, something deep in her gut, maternal rage coursing through her with something vicious, and even if she didn't deserve it after all she had done to him, pushed him to do, her heart was attempting to claim his as her own, and she didn't know what to do with that feeling. then she realized, that the maternal drive that prowled in her stomach like a thanator ready to pounce, not only saw the world as a threat, but saw her as a threat.

her mother handed her the salve and she was grateful for anything to do to take her mind off of the few revelations she managed to have while waiting.

"put more of the salve where the bleeding is stronger, then wrap it tight, be careful to not make it so tight it takes off his hand." the older woman guided, watching over her daughters work.

neytiri scooped it out bit by bit, slowing rubbing it onto the wounds while her mother blotted away the blood, her ears dipping whenever the boy his with pain or tried to pull away. she just wanted to make him better, to take him up into her arms and tell him it was alright like she would if he was one of her own children. but she knew she couldn't, he would wake up and see the monster who filled his little mind with such awful thoughts of himself, that he would be just as scared of her as he always was, and that she could bring him no comfort. so he was extra gentle as she finished off the paste, and held him like delicately as she wrapped the bandage around his wrists, gushing him gently each time he cried out, combing back his hair when she felt she was finished.

then jake came barreling in, breaking up the delicate silence that for a single second allowed her to believe it was just a normal day, that the new found fantasy of just being able to mother this child was true, that allowed spider to lay in peaceful sleep with her shawl over him. norm was trying to hush him, before he woke the baby, but there was no stopping jake, not when his face was full of pain and anger, looking as if he would plow down a titanothere just to get to spider.

neytiri knew jake had taken to spider more than he had let on, but the beast in her belly screamed that he hadn't done enough either, that he didn't earn the right to worry either. but she hushed it, knowing neither had the right to claim anything, not even over each other.

"ma'jake, quiet, or you will wake him and... he will be in pain. so let him sleep while he can," she attempted to soothe quietly, resisting every urge to just scoop him up when jakes loud entry did in fact stir him.

jake sat across from her, his hand resting on spider's chest, feeling the soft rise and fall of the boy's chest. "did he really?" he asked, eyes begging for her to tell him it wasn't true. she knew he would much rather hear of a freak accident over this, but she couldn't give him that mercy.

"yes, it would seem so." her voice was short, worn, despite barely saying a word this whole time.

jake crumpled a little, much more on the inside then he attempted to let show on the outside. neytiri was used to it, jake dealing with it all on the inside, bottling it up till he burst. she placed her hands over his, both of them being reassured by spider's breathing.

"but he is still here, we can and will help him. we will make sure he never feels this way again. I will right my wrongs, I will treat him as he has always deserved, and I hope one day he can forgive me. you will do the same. for now we just have to wait." she spoke gently, still worried about waking spider. she was partly talking to herself, making the promise she had worked her mind to final, she swore it on eywa. she saw jakes eyes finally close, knocking the tears he had been fighting to keep in down his cheeks.

he nodded, slumping into a lazy, defeated-looking, criss-cross position, talking spider's little hand in his, using the wet cloth from mo'at to clean the blood from his finger, the calloused palms of his hands, his muscle-toughened arms.

jake was no stranger to this, to harming yourself, even if he had never taken a blade to his wrists. trying to imagine that pain in such a little body terrified him. how was he supposed to wrap his head around little spider, the stray cat amongst the village, always smiling and laughing, always trying to help everyone, always up in trees or tussling with his kids, his blonde hair like streaks of the sun running about the village, battling such demons. he tried to imagine what he must have been feeling when he took his knife to his wrist. was he scared? relieved? confused? was he desperate and looking for a way out?

no, no norm said that spider wanted to get rid of his "demon blood" which as somehow more nauseating. it was their faults, him, norm, neytiri, The People. they hurt this child or they let it happen. they expected him to take every glare, every spit of acid, everything he was forced to endure, and to still remain a happy child. jake never once stopped to think what effect that may have on him, and now he was paying for it.

he ached, spider was small, he could fit in jakes hands even at 6 years old. he was drowning in neytiri's shawl even if on her, it would barely cover her upper arms, he had just started fitting his exopack a little less than a year ago. he was still just a baby, and they almost let his life end. had norm not found him, he would be dead, still and cold in his makeshift marui, in a pool of his own blood. the image that accompanied the thought that flashed in his made him feel sick. even with all that he denied feeling about the boy, no matter how hard he tried to push him away, no matter what he let him go through, the thought of spider dying, especially like that, alone and scared and in pain, terrified him. to have a child die for any preventable reason, was a disgrace on The People, especially their chief of all people.

chief.

he should have been the example. he should have led his people to find love for a defenseless child who wanted only to be loved and accepted. he had failed.

he let a finger caress the side of spiders face, along the edge of spider's mask, lightly pulling at the curly baby hairs that rested there,

"will he be alright?" he didn't know who he was asking, norm or mo'at. both would have very different opinions, norm more literal, mo'at more spiritual. he didn't know which he wanted.

"physically, yes. he is lucky, his blade was simple, his hand faltered, and he didn't seem to have a death wish. he didn't do too much damage, its manageable. emotionally jakesuli? time will tell." mo'at was the one to speak, the look on norms face spoke the his fear of setting neytiri off like he almost had earlier.

neytiri looked to her mother with a pain expression, her tail beating nervously where is laid near spiders head, ears still folded back.

"his mind is plauged with pain and desperation, things no child should even be aware of. he was driven to harm himself, in ways that will be permanent. it will be our actions going forward that determine his future. I fear if we do not undo the damage now, we will lose him in the years to come... what I fear more and that the damage has been done and cannot be undone. we can only hope for the former/"

neytiri damn near let out a cry, turning from her mother, eyes clenched as tears welled up in them. she found jakes arms, both leaning over spider like a makeshift shelter. just like they should have his whole life, they should have shielded him from the world, protected him from the hate of others. spider stirred once more, and this time jake couldn't resist the urge to scoop him up.

spider looked up at both of them, his little eyes tired and glossy, something small and painful in his gaze. he began to wiggle out of jakes hold, balling up nervously, but when neytiri grazed fingers through his hair, he stopped. this was the one thing he had ever wanted, deep down. not to be accepted, not to be one with the people, not even to be na'vi. he just wanted to be held, loved, by a mother, any mother. with his judgment too clouded by all his emotions, the desperation, the pain, even the blood loss, and maybe and even simpler reason being just being a child; spider let her hold him. he couldn't think about her years of neglect, the harsh words, and harsher glares, not in that moment, that could come later. right now, he needed a mother, and neytiri was willing, so he sunk into her hold, welcoming the embrace of either parent.

the road to spider's recovery would be long and hard. jake and neytiri had a lot to make up for, to apologize for, holding onto their guilt for years as they waited for spider to reach an age were their apologies would actually mean something to him. he would have to be watched constantly, habits would be broken, tears would be cried. things would never be 100%, there would always scars and phantom pain, but that was ok.

~~~

a note for my regulars; I'm back, maybe sorta kinda. I've hit a rough patch with my adhd, I can't do thoughts, or social interaction really, but I'm starting to bounce back, so more regular posting may return shortly.

[skzhocomments]

THE WHITE LILY (Mafia Book #1 - Bang Chan) - Chapter 5 - An eye for an eye

Story masterlist - please consult it for the summary of the story, trigger warnings etc.

General masterlist

Chapter 4 | Chapter 6

Let me know if you'd like to be on the taglist for this story!

---

Chapter 5 - An eye for an eye

chapter word count: 1.1k words

"What the fuck is this?" the man screamed, while the tied girls on the floor let out muffled gasps.

The sound of the door opening forcefully could be heard loudly, but no one was able to see anything.

I started coughing up again when that bastard's grip was completely gone from my neck and air was suddenly getting into my lungs. However, my head was still feeling light and my whole body felt weak.

Was it the liquid he forced me to swallow? I wondered, and managed to turn myself on my left side, trying not to choke on my own blood.

"It's Dark in here!" a loud, familiar voice shouted, bringing a slight smile to my face.

A small pat on my back followed soon after, giving me all the reassurance I needed. I was not abandoned. They came, just as they promised they will.

I didn't get the chance to find out who patted my back that night. The lightness in my head was getting too strong, and I passed out just seconds after feeling relief that I was no longer alone.

~

"Argh. Turn off that light, would you?" I grunted as soon as I woke up between the four walls of the room that became my new home barely a week ago.

"Hello to you too, Shade. Feeling good?"

"No, Sky. If you're really curious, my head is fucking killing me. And I'm called Shade for a reason. So please draw the curtains and bring some shade back, will you?"

"No. Light is way better for you right now. Besides, look at the Sky for once."

"Ha-ha, very funny."

"I'm glad you're awake though, everyone was starting to get worried. Especially Jeongin and Chris. And by the way, you look like shit. That guy really did a number on you, huh?" He chuckled and handed me a mirror, letting me examine the dark marks on my face and neck.

"Yea, seems like I really got a good beating."

"Disadvantages of speaking with no filter."

"You should know."

"Touché." He smiled and grabbed the mirror from my hands, giving me a glass of water and a small pill instead.

"Jeongin said to give this to you. For your headache, so you won't be a headache to the rest of us later."

"Thanks." I drank the medicine and handed Seungmin the empty glass.

"You should thank him personally. He was really distraught when he saw the state you were in. The fact that you slept for 5 full days didn't help too much either."

"Wait, I WHAT?" I asked, trying to stand up from the bed quickly, only to fall back down due to the immense pain in my temples.

"Wowowwo- Take it easy. I'll go let everyone know you woke up. Maybe take a shower and brush your teeth in the meantime, you stink."

"Fuck you."

"No thanks. I'm off!" Seungmin waved and left the room.

I went to the dresser and examined myself once again in the big mirror. The bruises were looking even worse under artificial lighting. However, everything looked very well taken care of. My busted lip wore a small plaster that seemed carefully placed on; there was no blood on me; my arm, that I don't even know when or how I managed to hurt, was bandaged with the same care as my lip.

Seeing how good Jeongin took care of me made my heart sink and made tears slowly form into the corners of my eyes.

Just like San used to do. I thought, but quickly hopped in the shower and brushed the thought aside.

~

After showering, I slowly got dressed. My whole body was aching, but thankfully the pain in my temples stopped.

Thanks for the happy pill, Jeongin.

Walking back into the room, I was greeted by someone I didn't expect to see yet standing on my bed.

"Chris." Was all I could say before he got up and ran to me, taking me into a strong embrace.

He let go of me and looked at the bruises, brushing his fingers on each of them.

"fucking bastard" he muttered under his breath and caressed my face. "But don't worry, baby, I made him pay for daring to lay his fingers on you. In fact, I made sure to break each and every one of his fingers, one by one, for each small bruise you had. I counted them with Jeongin."

"He did great..." I pointed to the carefully bandaged arm.

"Mhm, he did. He's a very good doctor."

"So... what else happened to the guy?"

"Oh, yea. I... personally thanked him for bringing you to this state. I stumped on his arms, his legs, and I finally pulled a bullet through his head yesterday morning when I saw how pathetic he was begging me to let him die." He said with a dark smile. "And after he gave us all information we needed, of course."

Right, he's a mafia boss. I almost forgot that for a second.

"And the girls...?"

"They're safe now. These past few days you were asleep we managed to eradicate the whole Knife Devils. Might still be a few bastards hanging on, but we'll catch them in no time."

"Mhm." I nodded.

"Now to the more important things: how are you feeling?"

Chan closed the distance between us and pulled me in for a kiss, making my knees grow weak again.

"I thought we'd lose you for a second." He said in a low voice.

"But you didn't. I'm here."

"The bastard gave you some sort of drug – Jeongin was glad he found the flask on him, he managed to find a counter for the poison. But you still weren't waking up."

"Thank you for coming for me. I thought you'd left me there for a second." I confessed.

"I will never leave you." He said sternly, before kissing me again.

I gave into him completely, letting him explore my mouth with his tongue, feeling the ecstasy each of his kisses were bringing me.

~Present Day~

Looking back on it, I should've noticed that I was falling way too fast, way too hard, and that this strong urge to have him flushed over me like a tsunami would only drown me. I wanted more.

I should've known then how dangerous that was. I was oblivious that his kisses were poison. How couldn't I notice just by the euphoria they made me feel?

I should've known it was too good to be true.

But the sad thing is, even if I knew, it probably wouldn't have mattered. As long as it was him, I would've been happy to stay oblivious. I would've gladly drunk any poison.

I should've known then that he wouldn't do the same for me.

It was not poison that I was tasting on his kisses, but heartbreak.

I should've wanted less.

---

Chapter 4 | Chapter 6

[walnutcookie]

When you are no longer the slep, pls go bed your health matters, can we hear about this sentient cape!? It sounds cool and I must know

i slept a few days ago but OOUA Cape time

thousands of years ago, the city of parfaedia was home to an ancient civilization. magic was..Very limited at this time ! the emperor was the only one who really had much magic power, and even then their spells were veeery limited and draining. nobles would have little magic, barely anything though, and anyone below that would have nothing

Lupine cookie (they/them) was their goddess. their powers allowed them to grant people wishes, but it would always be 50/50 on if you would get a blessing or a curse (they can control their powers but like . its their job to make it a 50/50 chance). so for example if someone got sick back then, when they didnt have proper medicine and technology to help them, theyd visit lupine and theyd either cure the person of their sickness Or make it 2x worse ! you ask them for money? you could get all the riches in the world, or you could have every last penny stripped away from you.

people really liked them at first!!! they helped save many lives or improve peoples life quality. though over time people started to get tired of the bad side of their wish granting. why would they hurt people? why are they hurting their loyal followers? who do nothing but praise them and give them gifts?

people were already starting to turn against lupine, but the last straw was when the emperor himself visited lupine, asking for a gift, and instead had something stripped away from him (i havent thought about this part yet but like it was something important). he was FURIOUS. so he gathered every single noble, and with all of their magic combined, they had enough power to seal Lupine away in a cloak. forever.

the emperor wore it on his shoulders as a prize.

flash forward to today Little phantom(bleu) is planning their first big heist!!!! i could talk more about the early days of phantom bleu/how they came to be (ive thought about it A Lot) but like i want to make a comic explaining everything soo . Basically they are planning their first big heist thats all you need to know!!! they visit eclairs museum (and they dont know the museum owner is their brother yet) and after skimming over the options they find a neat cloak in one of the exhibits ! a cloak that has been dug up thousands of years ago, theorized to have a goddess trapped inside, but it just looks like a normal cloak so eclair thinks its just a silly little fairy tale.

rogue smashes the glass and takes off with the cape, which also leads eclair to put anti-theft spells on all of his relics!!!! yay!! (he is absolutely shattered he was so proud of that cape) also this is what leads walnut to finding out about roguefort and starts their rivalry 🎉

rogue takes the cloak home and is like Yeah i guess ill use it in my new costume (they were using different clothes i dont wanna spoil anything but they changed the color scheme of their new costume to match the cape) but its like. super tattered and dirty. soooo they throw it in the washing machine

Oh Dear . Oh god oh god Aaahhhh what the FYCK!!!! WAKING UP DROWNING DYING TOSSING TURNING BEING THROWN AROUND AAAHHH PANIC DYING WHAT THE FUCK DROWNING DROWNING THROWING DYING WHAT IS THIS!!!!! after thousands of years being asleep in that cloak lupine is woken up by the Fucking Washing Machine. theyve slept through war and earthquakes and the shit that killed the dinosuars (not actually that last one) but they are woken up BY THE WASHING Machine. They cant die but they sure can feel pain in their cloak form!

roguefort opens the door and goes WAAAAHH as this UNIDENTIFIED FUCKING THING is flying frantically around the room dripping water everywhere and then they Grab it and stuff it into the dryer and the torture continues

anyways skipping ahead a bit theyve realized Hey this thing is sentient and theyre trying to understand this thing. It takes a lot of confusion and patience since lupine cant talk but uagwhkqhs stuff happens here and then rogue is like I will name you bleu :] and they repair bleu since its all tattered and stuff

phantom bleu is secretly a team name ! (their original name was just phantom mhehe)

but yea . Bleu decides that this person is precious and basically becomes a sort of guardian to them . (i mean rogue is in their thirties but lupine has been alive for... idk since the beginning of time)

and rogue is completely oblivious to it..theyre just like Haha funny cape i have no idea how youre alive but i like you :)

i think its so fucking funny thinking abt eclairs reaction to this like hes staring at the tv and going THEYRE WEARING THE FUCKING CAPE THEY STOLE FROM MY MUSEUM!!!! THEY CUT HOLES IN IT AND ALTERED IT AAUUUGGH RHEYRE GOING TO RUIN IT THEYVE ALREADY RUINED IT NOO

[honey-dewey]

Wisdom Teeth Imagines

My sibling is having their wisdom teeth out tomorrow and I felt like writing wisdom teeth imagines because I dunno I was bored? This’ll focus more on Reader getting their wisdom teeth out, but who knows. Maybe I’ll do this again. 

Total Word Count: 2,988

Permanent Taglist: @phoenixhalliwell @star-wars-hell

Din Djarin:

Din watched as you stumbled a bit coming up the ramp into the Crest. You’d just had surgery to remove your wisdom teeth and if Din had known you’d be this high, he probably would’ve left you with Peli until the drugs wore off.

“Din,” you whined, reaching out and stumbling over your own two feet. Din caught you, carrying you to the cockpit. He’d set up a sleeping spot there, warm and cozy so he could keep an eye on you while you recovered.

You looked at him with wide eyes. “Din,” you said again, putting a hand slowly against your face. “Din!”

“Yes ner ka’ra?” Din said, crouching down so he was at your level.

“Can’t feel my face!” You said, voice overly worried. The cotton in your mouth and the numbness of your face give you a lisp, and Din couldn’t help but grin.

He smiled despite the helmet, putting a hand on the top of your head. “It’s okay, that’s normal. Lay back now, my star. That’s it, it’s time to sleep.”

You didn’t fight as you sunk into sleep, eyes flickering shut. Din took a minute to admire you, cotton stuffed cheeks and all, before he stood to sit in the pilot’s seat. He wanted to find somewhere safe where you could recover for a few days, at least.

Sorgan was a day’s trip out of the way, and Din set course for the backwater planet. He turned once the coordinates were set, looking at you.

Din sighed, sitting on the floor beside you. He’d gone through this years ago, and knew that what you’d need most was comforting company.

As you shifted in your sleep, he moved so you could use him as a pillow. While you slept, Din relaxed, his helmet off. You wouldn’t remember anything if you woke up, so what did it matter?

Your eyes cracked open and you grumbled. Din, above you, smoothed down your hair and smiled. You gasped softly. “Brown eyes,” you murmured.

Din chuckled. “Brown eyes,” he agreed. “Go back to sleep.”

“Okay Brown Eyes,” you said softly, rolling over and falling asleep once more.

Marcus Moreno:

(Side note! For more Marcus wisdom teeth shenanigans, go read When I’m Older and I’m Wiser.)

“Oh babe,” Marcus said, trying not to laugh as he walked into the operating room. You stared at him, wide eyed.

“Holy shit,” you slurred, still staring. “You’re hot.”

Marcus pressed his lips together and suppressed his laughter. “Thank you,” he said. “Are you ready to go home?”

You nodded, trying to stand and immediately falling into Marcus’s arms. “Are you single?” You asked as he carried you to the car.

“No, I’m not single. I’m actually engaged,” Marcus said, and you immediately started to sniffle. “What? What’s wrong? Does your mouth hurt?”

You shook your head, nearing tears. “Why aren’t you single?” You wailed as Marcus put you in the car. “This isn’t fair!”

Marcus’s worry melted away. “Oh, honey. No, hey, I’m engaged to you!”

Your eyes went wide as your tears stopped. “What?”

“Yeah,” Marcus said, showing you the ring on your hand. “I’m engaged to you.”

“Woah,” you breathed, watching his face as he buckled you in. “Damn, I hit the jackpot.”

Marcus had to turn away and take a few breaths so he didn’t start laughing. “Okay babe. Ready to go home?”

You nodded, leaning against the door. “Can I sleep?”

“Of course you can sleep,” Marcus said, getting into the car and kissing your temple. “Close your eyes, we’ll be home before you know it.”

“Okay,” you mumbled, looking down at your hand one last time and grinning. “I’m so lucky.”

Max Phillips:

“Head still hurt?”

You groaned in response.

Max chuckled softly. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he said. He’d been looking after you since you got your wisdom teeth out, and now that you weren’t high anymore, everything hurt.

“Wanna eat something?” Max asked, looking over at you. You were face down on the couch, breathing slowly through the pain. “We have ice cream.”

You nodded, mumbling something softly. Any normal person wouldn’t have been able to hear it, but Max was no normal person.

“Okay,” he said, standing and closing his book. “Vanilla it is.”

He made you a bowl of vanilla ice cream, grabbing himself a Max popsicle while he was in the freezer. Sucking on the popsicle and letting the metallic tang coat his senses, he handed you your bowl. You made a face at his blood popsicle, but didn’t say anything as you sat up and very slowly spooned ice cream into your mouth.

You’d eaten maybe five bites by the time Max had finished his popsicle.

“Oh for the love of god,” Max said softly, scooting closer and taking the ice cream from you. You whined, but he shook his head. “Open wide.”

You did so, opening your mouth as best you could. Max put the spoon in, and you swallowed the ice cream.

“Better?” He asked, spooning up another bite. “Probably faster.”

You stuck your middle finger up and Max and took the next bite of ice cream.

“Mhm,” Max hummed playfully. “If you’d let me turn you, you wouldn’t be in pain right now.”

“Fuck you Phillips.”

Max’s grin grew. “I’ll take you up on that,” he promised. “Once you get better.”

You groaned. Later, you’d punch him for that comment, but for now, you resigned yourself to being spoon fed by the world’s most annoying vampire.

Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales:

“Okay Sparks, in the truck, there you go.” Frankie held your hands as you unsteadily got into his truck. He’d been the only one available at seven AM, so he’d driven you to your wisdom tooth appointment.

You hummed slowly, watching with unfocused eyes as Frankie got into the truck with you. “Fish?”

“What’s up Sparks?”

“I-“ you stopped abruptly as the truck growled to life. “Rumbly.”

Frankie put his phone on its holder and hit the record button on the camera. “Sparks. You okay?”

“The truck is purring!” You said, patting the dashboard. “Like a cat!”

“Like a cat,” Frankie agreed, driving out of the parking lot and across the street to the nearest fast food place. “You still want that milkshake?”

You nodded. “Cookie?”

“Oreo, if they’ve got it,” Frankie said, putting a hand on your shoulder as he pulled into the drive through line. “If they don’t, we’ll do vanilla, how’s that sound?”

“Okay.”

“Perfect,” Frankie said. “And then we have to get your pills, and then we can go home and take a long nap.”

You pouted. “Wanna nap now.”

Frankie smiled. “Go ahead. You’ve slept in this truck before.”

“Oh,” you said softly, leaning your head back and zoning out.

In a blink, almost five minutes had passed, and Frankie was pressing a cold milkshake into your hands. “Oreo, just like I promised.”

You looked down at the small cup in your hands and immediately looked up at Frankie with pure love in your eyes. “I love you.”

Frankie almost crashed the truck. “I’m sorry?”

“I love you so much,” you said again, scooting closer to Frankie and leaning your head against his shoulder. “Have for a looooong time. Napping.”

Frankie floundered as you fell asleep. He had no idea what to think. You were high as hell, but not entirely unreasonable. Was his massive crush actually reciprocated?

Deciding he’d wait until you woke, Frankie put an arm around your shoulders to steady you against his side and kissing the top of your head at a red light. “Sweet dreams.”

Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels:

“Jack?” Ginger said, poking her head into Jack’s office. “I’ve got them here.”

“Bring them in,” Jack said, standing.

Ginger wheeled a wheelchair in, you sitting in it. Your cheeks were swollen and your head was wobbly, but Jack expected that. He helped you up, kissing your forehead and scooping you into his arms to keep you off your unsteady feet.

“I got it,” he promised Ginger. “You don’t need to hover Ginge.”

Ginger left, leaving Jack to deposit you on his lap in his office chair. “Darlin’,” he said. “I got a meeting soon. Think you can behave?”

You nodded, cuddling up to Jack and promptly falling asleep.

You were awoken by the door opening. Champ walked in, looking over you curled up in Jack’s lap. Jack simply gestured to the chair opposite his. “Cosmopolitan had their wisdom teeth out today,” he explained as Champ sat down.

The meeting was boring. Boring enough for you to zone right back out, breathing Jack’s intoxicating whiskey and leather smell. You must’ve fallen asleep again, because one minute Champ was talking about the New York branch, and the next, he was standing and leaving.

“Naps?” You asked softly once the door closed.

Jack chuckled, carrying you to his couch. “Of course,” he said, kicking off his shoes and laying you down. He grabbed a blanket and lay beside you, lightly kissing your cheeks. “Love ya.”

“Love you too,” you mumbled, right before falling asleep yet again.

Ezra:

“I told you not to come,” Ezra said, reading his book while you put your face on his thighs and groaned loudly. “But no, you had to be stubborn.”

“Fuck off,” you mumbled into Ezra’s pants. “Didn’t hurt yesterday.”

Ezra rolled his eyes and flipped a page in his book. “Songbird, I love you, but you should’ve stayed home with Cee.”

“And let you come alone?” You said, rolling over so you were facing the ceiling. “I think not.”

“Then stop complaining.”

A throb of pain his your face and you winced, curling towards Ezra and whining. “Distract me?”

Ezra shut his book with a sigh. No matter how much you annoyed him, he loved you unconditionally. “Okay. How shall I distract you?”

Another worse throb, and your whines grew in volume. Your eyes screwed shut, muscles tensing. “Ezra!”

“Oh songbird,” Ezra said softly, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “Songbird I’m so sorry I can’t make the pain go away.” He pressed his ice cold hand against your cheek, hoping it would help with the pain. “Do you want medicine?”

“Took it already,” you said, leaning against Ezra’s hand.

Ezra smoothed his thumb over your cheekbone. “Ah. Apologies. There is nothing else I can do.”

You eventually fell asleep, somehow. When you woke, Ezra was in the kitchen, making a smoothie. The loud whirring of the blender woke you up and spurred you to your feet, head still aching something fierce.

“Songbird!” Ezra said upon seeing you awake. “You should be laying down.”

“Nah,” you said, sitting on the kitchen counter. “Can’t sleep. Blender’s too loud.”

Ezra sighed. “I made this for you,” he said, handing you a cup full of pink sludge.

Unable to use a straw, you grabbed a spoon and began to eat, humming around the frozen drink. “Damn Ez. This is good.”

Ezra smiled, kissing your temple. “Only the best for my songbird.”

Shane ‘Dio’ Morrissey:

Dio paced the waiting room, worry making his stomach twist. He was the only one here aside from the receptionist, who’d stopped giving him odd looks after the first twenty minutes. Dentist’s offices made him incredibly anxious, and the prospect of you having a full blown surgery right at this moment made him want to puke. But he had to be here. Had to be strong for you.

“Mr. Morrissey?”

Dio’s head snapped around. “Yes?”

The surgeon looked at him. “The procedure was a success and they’re waking up. Do you want to come get them?”

“Yeah,” Dio said, following the surgeon back and trying not to freak out.

“Dio!” You said happily upon seeing your goth boyfriend. You were in a wheelchair and had a very far away gleam to your eyes. “Dio!”

Dio sighed. “Hey. Feeling okay?”

You nodded. “I feel great,” you said loosely. “You don’t look okay.”

“Let’s just go,” Dio said tightly.

“Oh right,” you said, looking up at the nurse pushing your wheelchair. “He’s scared of the dentist.” You said it in a loud whisper, like you were trying to share a secret. The nurse smiled and looked at Dio.

“The anesthesia loosens the lips,” she said. “Try to keep an eye on them until it wears off.”

Dio nodded, just eager to leave.

You were high for another three hours, most of which were napped away in the safety of Dio’s apartment. He messed around in his spare room, which had been converted into a sewing room. He kept the door cracked open so he could see and hear you.

Eventually, you sat up, rubbing your eyes and poking your nose experimentally. “Huh.”

You stood, shuffling into Dio’s sewing room. “Dio?”

Dio turned, halfway through putting a new patch on his jacket. “You’re awake.”

“I am,” you agreed, holding your arms out. Dio stood and hugged you, his project abandoned on the table. “Sorry I made you go with me. I know you hate it a lot.”

“I didn’t mind,” Dio promised. “Not for you.”

You made a face, and Dio smiled. “Okay, maybe I minded a little bit.”

“That breaks your what? Ten year streak of not entering a dentist’s office?” You asked, pulling Dio into the living room and sitting on the couch. “That isn’t healthy.”

“Eleven,” Dio said, sitting next to you and pulling you close to his side. “And I know.”

You didn’t press further. Instead, you snuggled up to Dio’s side and yawned, wincing. “Ow.”

Dio pressed a kiss against your head. “Go back to sleep,” he said softly. “I’ll put on that documentary we were watching last night.”

You nodded, closing your eyes. You were asleep before the documentary even began.

Javier Peña:

Javier had seen some shit in his day, but watching you come out of surgery and go almost directly to work was one of the most ridiculous things he’d seen in a while.

“Go home!” He said for the eighth time, watching you rub your jaw. You’d napped off the drugs, but walked into work as soon as you were sober. For the past hour, you’d been suffering through work with what had to be a raging headache.

You rolled your eyes. “Javi, I’m busy.”

Javier stood, finally at the end of his rope. He scooped you up out of your chair and you squealed indignantly, thumping your fists on his back as he carried you out to his car. Steve gave you two a look as you exited the building, but didn’t try and stop Javier as he opened his car door.

“Stay,” he said firmly once he’d put you in the backseat. “I’m taking you home and you’re getting the appropriate amount of rest.”

You pouted, but your pounding head made you sit still while Javier drove you home. He watched you carefully as you set yourself up on the couch with soft foods and your phone nearby, and then you turned your eyes on him when he didn’t leave.

“You aren’t gonna go back to work?”

Javier shook his head, sitting on the couch with you. “I don’t trust you. So no, I’m gonna stay right here until you’re better.”

Your eyebrows went up. “Javi, that’ll be days!”

“I know,” Javier promised. “I’ve had my wisdom teeth out. Now, get some rest. I’ll run out later and pick up some pain meds for that headache you haven’t told me about yet.”

Another eye roll, and you were snuggling down into the safety of your blanket cocoon. Your head did really hurt.

The gentle sounds of Javier working, his typewriter balanced on his knees, lulled you into a gentle and well deserved sleep.

Maxwell Lord:

“Hey doll,” Max said, smiling as a nurse helped you out of the office. “How’re you feeling?”

You groaned, and Max laughed. “Oh really? C’mon, let’s get you home.”

You were mostly quiet on the ride home, head cradled by the car door as you napped. Max had expected this when he’d sent you into the office an hour ago to get your wisdom teeth out, and he was definitely prepared.

“Let’s get you in the house,” Max said, helping you up once you’d gotten home. Your legs were still wobbly, so Max basically carried you in and set you in the bed. Duchess looked up and meowed indignantly, but when she realized it was just you, she sniffed you over and plopped down at your side.

“Kitty,” you said softly, petting Duchess. She purred, rolling over and butting her head into your side.

Max smiled. “I’m going to grab ice for your face. Want anything else?”

You shrugged, engrossed in your actions of petting Duchess.

“Alright,” Max said, kissing your head.

When he came back, you were asleep.

Chuckling, Max put the ice bag back in the freezer and set his book on the bedside table. Duchess left, probably because you’d stopped petting her, and Max took her place, curled up at your side.

“Daddy?”

“Alistair,” Max said, looking over. “Hey.”

Alistair looked hesitantly at you. “Are they okay?”

Max nodded. “Of course. Just napping. Wanna stay with us? I was going to put on a movie.”

“Can we watch the Jungle Book?” Alistair asked eagerly, jumping up into the bed.

Max smiled. “Of course. Stay here, I’ll go get it.”

You woke up a while later to the singing monkey, blinking slowly and rolling towards Max’s warmth. “Max.”

“Good morning sleeping beauty,” Max said softly, kissing your forehead. “How was your nap?”

“Good,” you said, looking around and seeing Alistair curled up in the bed with you. “Whole family’s here.”

Max chuckled. “Duchess is even here,” he said, pointing to where Duchess was laying in her bed.

You leaned against the pillows. “Love you.”

“Love you too,” Max said. “Still wanna sleep?”

“Yeah,” you mumbled. “Wake me at dinner.”

Max pressed one more kiss to your head before you fell asleep once more.

[babybakuu]

how to mend a broken heart

Pairings: Bakugou Katsuki x Reader & Todoroki Shouto x Reader

Warnings: Cursing

Word count: 8424

A/N: my first time posting on tumblr so pls be gentle lmao thanks

It was strange- the way his crimson eyes linger over the cute bubbly girl off in the distance. Was he even looking at her or was he staring off in her direction? Did he even notice he was zoning out? “Earth to Katsuki.” You say, eyes never leaving his face. You could see it. His eyes following her every move and when she smiled- a faint pink dusted his cheeks. Did he even notice you next to him? “Katsuki.” You say a little louder this time, giving him a poke on his arm. 

“Holy fuck!” He growls, head snapping around, eyes glaring but instantly softening as soon as he realizes who it is. “Don’t sneak up on me like that!” 

“You like her?” You tease. It wasn’t possible right? The Great Bakugou Katsuki has a crush on Uraraka? “Shut the hell up.” 

Oh. He didn’t deny it. 

“So..you do like her?” He doesn’t reply, instead he kind of just stands there- hands shoved deep into his pockets, his pink dusted cheeks now the color of Kirishima’s hair, and even though he never answered the question, it was painfully obvious. 

“You two would look cute together.” 

His ears perk up at the comment and a faint smile is slowly spreading across his face but how could he not notice the hurt in your eyes? You two had been friends for as long as you can remember and he knew you better than you even knew yourself. 

Maybe love really did blind people. 

“Me and round face?” He scoffs but it’s obvious he’s pleased at the remark. The way he attempts to hide his smile behind his words could never get past you. You spent years learning his language and now those years were easily tossed down the drain. But when his eyes light up with the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips and the goofiest expression on his face, you can’t help but wonder what kind of Katsuki was this? You knew angry Katsuki, determined Katsuki, even sad Katsuki but never had you seen in love Katsuki. 

“Want me to help you?” You have no idea why those words slip past your lips. Maybe it was the expression he wore on his face- it was so vulnerable (another Katsuki you’ve never seen before) or maybe it was because he looked so..happy? 

Yeah. 

That was it. 

He looked over the fucking moon happy. But guilt settles in your stomach. Why were you so hurt, so bitter about his new found happiness? He deserved to be happy even if you weren’t in the picture. 

“Do whatever you want.” He mutters. 

Translation- yes please. 

As your heart aches and eyes gloss over, you find yourself attempting to smile but failing miserably. “Shit.” You mutter rubbing your eyes. “I think I got something in my eyes.”

“You fucking idiot. Let me see.” He moves closer, hands on either side of your face as you blink away the tears. “Stop blinking already.” He scolds, leaning in even closer. Was he just chewing mint gum? 

He pries your eyes open with his thumb and index finger- hands extremely warm and a little clammy, but you don’t mind. Maybe he would notice how sad your eyes look or maybe he would notice you crying over some imaginary dust in your eyes and ask you what had you so upset? 

“I don’t see anything.” He huffs.

“But it really hurts.” You mutter pushing his hands away and rubbing your eyes. Well, it wasn’t a complete lie. Your heart ached and seeing how seeing how in love he was- it fucking hurt. 

“I’m taking you to Recovery Girl.” He reaches to grab your hand but you jerk backwards. The feeling of his touch lingering on your face was something you once loved but now it only felt empty. 

“I think I’m okay now.” You instantly stop rubbing your eyes, blink back the tears, and grit your teeth.

“You sure? Let me see-” He reaches for your face again but you swat his hand away.

“No. I’m good.” 

“You sure?” His eyebrows are furrowed and concern is written all over his face. You nod and with that, you both make your way back to the dorms. You, uncharacteristically quiet. And Katsuki? Too wrapped up in his own thoughts to even notice. 

Your heart aches. 

The next morning you don’t feel well enough to go to class but he still stands at the front of the dorms waiting, blowing up your phone, ready to storm up to your room until Uraraka steps out. You were busy spying on him from the comfort of your bedroom window- first class seats to the Katsuki and Uraraka love show. “Bakugou? You waiting for (F/N)?” 

“Yeah.” He mutters, his shoulders slumped over a little more than usual and was he looking at his feet? He never did that. 

“She told me she’s not feeling too well.” She says, brushing a piece of hair behind her ear. “Did you want to walk to class together?”

He nods. 

Your heart breaks for the millionth time that hour and you sigh. What could you do besides cry? So you throw yourself into your bed, curl up under the covers, and desperately try to erase his goofy love sick face out of your mind. 

After school, you could hear people trickle into the dorm (curse being on the 2nd floor closest to the entrance!). Izuku rolls in with Uraraka, Todoroki closely behind with Iida, and Katsuki nowhere in sight. Was it bad you were slightly relieved? From the events that transpired this morning, you thought they were probably dating already. I mean, who wouldn’t want to date Bakugou Katsuki? He was handsome, strong, smart- everything anyone could ever want. 

Knock, knock, knock. 

You debate on whether or not you should open the door. Did you want someone to see you like this? Swollen eyes, a nose irritated from constant wiping and blowing, and hair tied up in a day old messy bun.

Knock, knock, knock. 

There was silence. You hope whoever it was left- you wanted to stay under your covers, in the dark, alone. 

Completely alone. 

“Oi! Open the fuck up!” There was only one person that harsh but caring tone belonged to. You mentally groan. 

“Of all people.” You mumble under your breath. He was definetly the last person you wanted to see right now. 

“You have 5 seconds before I blow this door open!” 

“Coming!” You practically had  no choice. He really would obliterate your door in to a thousand bits and pieces. With one quick movement, you swing the door open two be greeted with a set of crimson eyes and a set of big brown orbs. Your heart drops. 

“You look like shit.” 

“Thank you captain obvious.” Your eyes are automatically rolling at the comment. 

“You feeling better?” Uraraka questions, her face filled with concern. 

“Just sick but uh- thanks for stopping by. I would really like to go back to bed.” Your attempting to close the door but curse Bakugou Katsuki and his fast reflexes.  He shoves his foot in the crack of the door and his eyes narrow in on you. “You sure you’re okay?” His voice is soft and it makes your heart skip a beat. You’re practically melting at the sound but you piece yourself back together and fake a smile. 

“I’m fine.” You reply sternly and for a second he believes you but when your voice cracks and your eyes water, his eyes narrow in on you even more as if he’s analyzing. 

“Well, Bakugou and I went to go get you some medicine.” Uraraka says, holding a bag up to the door quickly taking his attention off of you. “We also got you some of your favorite snacks. Or I supervised while Bakugou grabbed everything.” She laughs. 

And the first thing that crosses your mind is that she’s sweet. An angel really. But when did they have the chance to go to the store together. Was it this morning? Or the little time they had before they came back to the dorms? But they didn’t walk back together? Your mind is racing 100 miles per hour. 

“You gonna take it or what?” Katsuki questions, snapping you out of your thoughts. You reach out, taking the bag, and muttering a small thank you. 

“I hope you get well soon!” She exclaims and with that, you give both of them a curt nod of your head, the smallest smile, and close the door. But you swear you catch a glimpse of Katsuki contemplating something. 

You miss school again the next day but on the third day, you decide to pry yourself out of the comfort of your bed and go to class. Aizawa would probably pardon 2 tardies but 3? He would personally escort you to class himself. Purposely you woke up late, texting Katsuki to head off first with his new walking buddy, and you’ll be there later but besides that, everything was normal. Mina throws her arms around you as soon as she sees you crying about how she hasn’t seen you in forever, Kaminari is still telling those old dad jokes, Kirishima is a sweetheart like always, Sero still has that big grin on his face, and Katsuki? He’s still love struck. 

Ouch. 

But you push through, attempting to numb the pain by distracting yourself. Throughout the day you hardly look at him, made only light conversation and that made everything bearable, until cooking class rolls around. You thought it would be easy since you were paired up with Mina and Kirishima. You thought they would distract you. You thought, you wouldn’t have to even think about those two together. Until you turn around to glance in his direction out of habit. And as if fate would have it, they were paired up together. 

Mina was first to notice. 

The way you grit your teeth, the way you held that rolling pin in your hands a little too tightly, and the way your eyes look like they were ready to sprinkle the dough with tears, she could tell something was wrong.. “Are you okay?” She whispers her voice full of concern and worry. But you don’t say anything, instead, her eyes follow yours and land on the blonde boy. Did he just laugh at something Uraraka had said? You turn away and go back to rolling the dough out. “Oh my god no way. He likes her?” 

"..Yeah.”. 

“I told you to tell him how you really feel!” She half whispers and half shouts. You shoot her a look and she instantly lowers her tone. But she stands there for a minute watching you roll out the dough and attempting to hold back your tears. “(F/N).” What was that? That tone of voice? Her face? “Let me know if you need anything.” 

You merely nod, too scared to say anything because at this point you were one step away from sobbing in the middle of cooking class. “Ladies! We’re here to make the best cookies in town- not stand by and idly chit-chat!” Kirishima playfully scolds while holding a rolling pin in one hand and hitting it against the palm of his other hand. “Those girl scouts aren’t going to beat us this year! Let’s get back to work!” 

Mina rolls her eyes and folds her arms against her chest. “And what have you been doing? (F/N) and I have basically done everything.” 

“Supervising.” He states with a big shit eating grin on his face. “I mean if you want I can help-”

“Wait actually nevermind, we don't need another fire in the kitchen.” 

There’s a prominent pout on Kirishima’s face and a small giggle erupts from your lips. Out of habit you glance back at Katsuki while giggling but surprisingly his eyes are already on you. He shoots you the softest smile that makes your insides warm and fuzzy and you can’t help send one back. In that moment you were okay again, even if it was for a little while. 

The uncontrollable crying stops after a week. You’ve gotten into the hang of faking your emotions, numbing yourself, and pushing those bitter thoughts out of your mind. But then they started dating. It had been only 2 weeks of them getting to know each other and they already got together. Katsuki always moved fast. 

He no longer walked to class with you, spent half of his lunch with his friends and the other half with his new girlfriend, and even after school they hung out together. You didn’t complain though, it made the healing process a little easier if he wasn’t around. Mina on the other hand was constantly around you even if you mentioned several times you were okay. She offered her shoulder to cry on and her room if you wanted to have a slumber party. She was a saint but she did drive you crazy sometimes. You were glad no one else besides her knew how heartbroken you were, or so you thought. 

At night, when it was a little too quiet and your room seemed to suffocate you, you walked downstairs into the common area with a blanket draped over your shoulders- your mind tired and your heart aching. Maybe you just needed a change of scenery and some fresh air. 

“Can’t sleep?” A voice questions. Your head whips around and there stands Todoroki with a cup of tea. When the hell did he get there? And what the hell was he doing down in the common area at 2 in the morning? 

“You almost made me shit myself.” You mutters, slipping on your shoes at the front door. “But yeah, I can’t sleep.” 

“Where are you going?” 

“I need some fresh air.” 

“Can I join you?” 

You hesitate. All you really wanted was to be left alone for now. You were tired, heartbroken, and not sure if you were going to cry or not. How embarrassing would it be if you just busted out crying in front of him for seemingly no reason? “Sure.” You say, its a bit reluctant but he seems to just brush it off. 

He slides on his shoes at the front door and follows you outside, tea still in his hands. “What has you up so late?” You question as he sits down next to you on the front steps of the dorms. 

“Same as you, can’t sleep.” He replies simply taking a sip of his tea, you pull your blanket closer. 

A few minutes slip by and there’s an comfortable silence in the air. You’re enjoying the evening brisk wind, the quiet chirp of the crickets, and then like always your mind wanders off to the blonde. 

He was taken. 

He was happy. 

He was with her. 

“You want some tea?” Todoroki offers, holding the cup towards you, steam rising from the top. “My mom said warm things are good for a broken heart.” 

“W-what?” 

That completely catches you off guard.

“Warm things are good for a broken heart.” He repeats, not missing a beat. He motions for you to take the cup with his eyes.

“I thought I was doing pretty well at hiding it.” You sarcastically laugh, taking the cup from his hands, and taking a sip. The warmth from the tea fills your entire body, something a bit foreign to you for who knows how long. “What gave it away?” 

“The way you look at him.” He states, eyes soft. “And I hear you crying sometimes so I kind of just put two and two together. The walls are pretty thin you know.” 

“You’re really observant.” You laugh, it’s not like one of your wholehearted laughs. It’s small and there’s the tiniest hint of sadness in it. 

“I only observe people I’m interested in.” 

Wait. What? 

“Yeah, I like you. I have for a while.” Did he read your mind? Or did your expressions give it away? “You don’t have to say anything.” He chuckles, taking the tea back into his hands, his fingers grazing against yours for a second. He takes a sip. “I know this really isn’t the best time but..” He just shrugs and for a moment it’s silent. You’re attempting to wrap your mind around everything and he’s sitting there sipping his tea. But when a cold wind hits leaving you shivering, you glance over at the boy next to you. He’s not really phased but you scoot over next to him anyways, your thighs touching the slightest bit, and toss the extra blanket around his shoulder so you’re now both sharing it. 

“Thanks.” 

You nod. 

“Maybe, when I get over Katsuki..” Your voice trails off, eyes slowly glazing over as you stare forward into the void. “..we can revisit? I’m just not sure now, you know, with everything being so fresh. It kind of just hurts.” 

“I’d like that.” He smiles and for the first time without Katsuki on your mind, you notice how handsome he is.

“So, what else did your mom say about mending a broken heart?” You question slightly cocking your head to the side. You swear you see a faint blush on his cheeks under the moonlight. 

“Well, there’s warm things.” He states, he offers you the tea again and you take it. “She also said funny movies, the beach, and lots and lots of sweets but usually I just settle for a cup of tea. I feel like that one works best. A hug really works wonders as well.” Your eyes are a set a little too intensely on his face because you can see him shift uncomfortably in his seat but your expression softens once a thought pops into your head. 

Was he heart heartbroken over you?

“What?” He chuckles. “Boys get heartbroken too, especially when a pretty girl won’t even give them the time of day because she’s too caught up on some loud mouth boy.” He eyes you teasingly and you look away, the color pink shooting straight to your cheeks. “Or were you staring because you wanted a hug?” A playful smack lands on his leg and you roll your eyes but he simply removes the cup from your hand, places it on the ground next to you, and wraps his arms around your frame. 

He was right. A hug really did help. 

A week flew by. 

Having Shouto around eased the pain and made it bearable. He provided lots of warm tea, hugs when it was really needed, and dumb movies that always got a laugh out of you. You two were also planning on going to the beach tomorrow, another thing you could cross off of his mother’s list. 

Knock, knock, knock. 

“Come in!” You yell, while laying on your bed, watching another movie Shouto recommended. He said this one was his favorite. The door swings open revealing a blonde boy that you certainly weren’t expecting to see. “K-Katsuki?” You stutter, instantly pausing the movie on your laptop and sitting up. He cocks an eyebrow. “Why the fuck are you so shocked to see me?” His tone is harsh and rough around the edges as he sends a typical Katsuki glare your way.

“I just didn’t expect you? I thought you would be out with uh..Uraraka.” You weren’t sure if you were ready for this. Sure it had been a few weeks since this whole fiasco but you weren’t sure if your heart could take this. 

“I’m not allowed to hang out with my best friend?”

Ah. Yes. 

You were his best friend. 

Emphasis on the friend part. 

“What are you watching?” He asks as he makes himself comfortable on your bed, just like he always had done before. 

“A comedy Shouto suggested.” 

“IcyHot? He likes comedies?” Katsuki scoffs in disbelief. “You two have gotten really close recently huh.” His eyes narrow on your face and there’s a unreadable expression on his face. “You trying to replace me or something?” 

Yes. Yes I am. 

“No? What are you talking about?” 

“You.” He says as he flicks your nose “Getting a new best friend behind my back.” For a minute as your eyes water and you cover your nose with your hands, you forget that it’s been weeks since you last really talked to him, you forget that he’s interested in someone else, and you forget that he’s dating Uraraka. 

“That hurt!” You cry, hitting him with a pillow. “Asshole!” 

“Glad to see you’re back to normal. You’ve been off the last few weeks.” You stop your ruthless beating and turn back to the computer screen. Maybe Shouto was right, all the tea, the stupid movies, and the warm hugs, maybe they were mending your heart. “And when the hell did you get on a first name basis with the half and half bastard?” 

“A couple of days ago.” You mumble, as Katsuki stares you down. Were you blushing? Or did you have a fever? Your face felt hot. “He’s really nice.” 

“You like him?” 

“Not sure.” 

“Hmm.”

Wait. What the hell was that? It was brief but for a second he seemed almost..annoyed? 

“How are things with you and Uraraka?” You ask in an attempt to change the subject. Honestly, after asking you weren’t sure if that was the smartest idea. There was a sharp pain in your chest. 

“Whatever.” He states. 

Translation- fucking great. 

He clicks his tongue. 

Wait a minute. He only did that when he was really irritated. “I’m not sure if I like her. I mean, thinking she’s cute from afar and getting to actually know her are two fucking different things I guess.” His eyes hesitantly lock with yours. “I was thinking about it all day yesterday and I think I fucked up.” 

You cock your head to the side with your eyebrows furrowed and that’s when that goofy love sick smile you saw for the first time a few weeks ago appears on his face. But why the hell was he looking at you like that? “You don’t like her?” 

“I think I was projecting.” He’s blushing now and eyes staring anywhere but into yours. 

“Projecting..?”

“You know what? Forget I said anything.” He drops the subject, reaches past you, and hits play. When Katsuki says to drop something, you drop it. You don’t pry, you don’t ask him for more details, and you don’t mention it again. But as you sit next to him, eyebrows furrowed, watching the movie but at the same time not really watching the movie, he wished you pushed him just a little more. 

Katsuki stayed in your room uncharacteristically late that night. Mr. I-Knock-Out-At-8-PM was there until at least 1 am. Was he feeling guilty for spending all his time with his new girlfriend instead of his best friend? Or was he attempting to hide from her? His phone went off a few different times and each time he read the text, let out an annoyed huff, and then ignored it. 

“Let’s go out tomorrow.” He yawns while burying his face into your pillow. “I don't want to be here.” 

“Sorry, I’m busy.” You reply. “And you should go to bed, it's late.” His head snaps out of your pillow and his eyes meet yours.“Who the hell do you have plans with?” 

“I have other friends too.” You roll your eyes. 

“Is it IcyHot? Where are you two going? What are you two doing?” 

“We’re just going to the beach.” 

“Why?” 

How stupid would it sound if you told him it was because it mended broken hearts? Would you spill everything? Would you tell him you like him? Scratch that, you were in love with him for countless years. But would that even change anything? Would he choose you over Uraraka when you were just..you?

“Just wanted to go.” You shrug trying not to cry, you had honestly gotten pretty good at it in the past few weeks but with him here in person it was a little harder than usual. “Maybe ask Kirishima or Kaminari if they’re doing anything.” 

Katsuki scowls. “I can’t come with? Is it a date or some shit?” 

You frown. What the hell was wrong with him? He had a girlfriend didn’t he? Even if he wasn’t sure that he liked her, they were still dating right? Why was he suddenly so interested in your love life? “No, you can’t come with.” 

“So it is a fucking date?” What was with is tone? Why was it so harsh? 

“I already said no.” You reply, firmly. “What’s up with you Katsuki? Why are your panties in a bunch when you’re the one who hasn’t spent time with me ever since you got a girlfriend?” 

“Well I’m trying to spend time with you now and you got a fucking date.” 

Unbelievable. He was really un-fucking believable. 

“What’s your issue?” 

He clicks his tongue and practically storms out of the room. You get up. Softly closing the door behind him, locking it, and crawling back into your bed. He was being irrational, annoying, childish. Why the hell was he so caught up over this so called date of yours? You sigh, bury yourself under the covers, and hit play.

Ten minutes pass and there was a knock on your door. Maybe it was Katsuki coming back to apologize for whatever the hell just happened or it was God himself coming to apologize for making you like someone so..Katsuki. You let drag yourself out of bed and open the door. Nothing in sight except for a cup of hot tea that sits on the floor. A smile appears on your face and that night you go to bed feeling warm. 

The next day you wake up and it’s the first time in awhile you wake up not thinking about a certain blonde but instead your mind was occupied with thoughts of the beach, playing in the sand, and..Shouto. Lots of Shouto. You roll out of bed hitting the floor with a thump and let out a small groan. From the other side of the wall you swear you could hear Shouto laughing. Heat rises to your cheeks. 

Damn, he has a really cute laugh. 

He knocks on your shared wall and stifles his laughter as he speaks, “You okay in there?” 

You could hear him loud and clear. How thin were these walls exactly? 

“I’m ok!” You exclaim, clearly embarrassed. You imagine him shaking his head with a smile on his face. Your heart skips a beat. 

It was 10 am when you open your door. Your head automatically shoots straight to Shouto’s door. You hadn’t heard him leave his room, in fact, you never heard him do anything. Was he just naturally super quiet? Or maybe he went downstairs first and is waiting for you? 

“Looking for me?” He’s standing at the top of the stairs, back pressed against a wall, a book in hand. 

“You should’ve told me you were waiting for me. I would’ve been out here sooner.” 

“It’s okay.” He smiles and for a second, you were a little bit starstruck. Who would’ve known the boy had a smile that could melt Antarctica itself? Was he the reason global warming was at an all time high? “You got everything?” You nod. With that you both make your way downstairs into the common area, making small conversation about the movie you watched last night, and failing to notice multiple eyes on the two of you. 

“Where are you going dressed so cute?” Kaminari questions, breaking you two out of your own little bubble. Sero raises an eyebrow and Katsuki is just sitting in between Mina and Kirishima, not even attempting to glance your way. Was he still angry? 

Your heart aches at the thought. 

“Thanks, I thought I was dressed normally.” Shouto replies, maybe it was the stoic expression he always had on that made people believe he was a little bit of an airhead but in all honesty, he was funny. You stifle a laugh. “But we’re going to the beach.” 

“Beach?!” Mina jumps up at this. “Without us?!” 

“Yeah! Without us?!” Kirishima repeats, also jumping out of his seat. Katsuki has this smug expression on his face and a cocky grin. Did he plan this? Did he purposely wake the Bakusquad up at 10 am instead of their usual 2 pm to intercept your day at the beach? 

“Not fair Todoroki!” Kaminari whines. “You can’t keep this cute girl to yourself!” 

You glance over at the boy next to you and notice he’s staring intensely at something, or rather someone. Your eyes follow his gaze and you end up at a set of familiar crimson red eyes. But why was he staring Katsuki down so hard? And why was Katsuki reciprocating? 

“(F/N)!” Kaminari whines again but this time shooting out of his seat, taking your hand into his, and dropping onto his knees. Maybe if the whole hero thing didn’t work out Kaminari always could become an actor. “Your highness,” He says as kisses your hand, “I, your humble servant, would like to escort you to the beach. I’ll protect you from villains, evil-doers-” 

“Those are literally the same things.” 

“(F/N)!” He cries. “Please?” 

You sigh and look over at Shouto. He gives you a look that basically says its-up-to-you and shrugs. “Yeah whatever.” You sigh. Cheers erupt from the Bakusquad and they all quickly run to their rooms to get ready. Meanwhile, you pull out your phone, dialing a number. 

30 minutes pass and you and Shouto are sitting in the common area, drinking tea, and chatting about whatever. “You sure about this?” He questions, brows furrowing. 

“Yeah, I have you with me.” You smile. “You always make me feel better.” For a moment, you could see that love struck look on his face. The way his eyes soften, the way a smile tugs at the corner of his lips, and the his face looks so tender and sweet, it almost makes you want to lean in and place a kiss on his lips. But you quickly resist the urge and for a moment, you too return that love sick look. 

“BEEAAACHHH!!!” The Bakusquad minus Katsuki pterodactyl screeches as they come running down the stairs full force with enough stuff to last them a year at the beach. You let out a small laugh as Kaminari flings himself down the stairs and lands face first onto the floor. Sero trips, landing on top of him and Kirishima throws himself onto the boys because why the hell not? Mina simply laughs and Katsuki walks past them rolling his eyes. “Let’s go.” He barks, hands shoved deep into his pockets, in that Katsuki manner of his. 

“Not everyones here yet.” You say. Katsuki raises an eyebrow at you. 

“What do you mean by ‘not everyone’s here yet’?” He glares at you and a lump forms in your throat. You swallow.

“Ah, there they are.” Katsuki shoots you a no-you-fucking-didn’t-look and you muster all of your strength to shoot him a smile. If your day at the beach was going to be ruined, you were going to make sure his day wasn’t so pleasant. 

“Sorry did everyone wait long?” Uraraka asks, strolling down the stairs alongside Izuku and Iida. She runs over to Katsuki and places a kiss on his cheek. 

Oh. 

You weren’t expecting that.

Mina looks over at you to make sure you’re okay. Iida simply rounds everyone up and ushers them towards a nearby train. Shouto steals glances at you every now and then just to check in, and you wish you could just throw yourself into his arms and ask for a hug. But would that be weird? The only time you two actually hugged was in private, sometimes when you were crying, sometimes when you just really needed someone to hold you. It almost felt like a secret you needed to hide but would Katsuki even care? 

The train abruptly stops, sending you flying into the half silver half red haired boy in front of you. “Gotcha.” He chuckles lowly, only loud enough for you to hear. A few groans and what the fucks echo through the train and for a minute you forget you’re not in public and bury your face into his chest. 

He’s warm. 

He’s what you needed. 

He pats your back almost too lovingly and you melt into his arms. “That’s like something out of a drama.” Kirishima laughs. “Real smooth Todoroki.” Now all eyes are on the both of you and you reluctantly let go of him. 

“Yeah Bakugou, you should take notes.” Kaminari states.

You look over, Uraraka was in Izuku’s arms, both of them a bright red. Katsuki is standing over to the side a scowl on his face. Was he upset about his girlfriend falling into another’s arms? 

“Shut the hell up.” He growls but you’re not even paying attention to them. 

Shouto reaches out, plucking a fallen eyelash off of your face, and holds it up to your mouth. “Make a wish.” He smiles and at this moment, everyone could see how much he liked you. His eyes soft, tone sweet, it was almost as if he didn’t see anyone else. 

“Is that something else your mom taught you?” You giggle, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. He nods and you close your eyes, blowing the eyelash away. 

“What did you wish for?” He asks. You don’t even notice his hand around your waist at this point, his touch was normal to you now. But Kaminari instantly slaps a hand over your mouth and pulls you out of his grasp. 

“Don’t tell him or it won’t come true!” 

You laugh but it’s muffled by Kaminari’s hand, Shouto smiles, Mina pries Kaminari off of your face while Sero beats him to a pulp for ruining the moment. Kirishima is talking to Katsuki but Katsuki just looks distracted, Uraraka is apologizing to Izuku, and Iida is attempting to get everyone out of the train in an orderly fashion. It was chaotic but at the same time, you didn’t regret inviting them. It made your heart ache a little less. 

You and Shouto trailed behind the group pinkies secretly interlocked. It was a small gesture but it made you feel better, safe, and taken care of. Katsuki and Uraraka were a couple feet in front of you two though. You could hear how she carried most of the conversation. Was he even trying? Was he even paying attention? You grow irritated. As much as you didn’t want them together, seeing him brush her off like that made you angry. Would he treat you the same way if you two were to start dating? Would he even care?

“Oi.” His head snaps around, eyes meeting yours and breaking you out of your thoughts. “Remember when you almost ate shit over there?” He jerks his thumb in the direction of an ice cream store with a smirk on his face and you almost wanted to throw a flying kick at his head. 

“Don’t bring that up!” You cry, instantly breaking interlocked pinkies with Shouto to run over and beat the blonde’s chest. “You asshole! You promised you would never mention it again!” He laughs. It’s low and soft. You can feel his chest vibrating with each punch and it brings you back to a time where it was just you and him. Young, naive, and still so in love. He grabs your arm and pulls you into a headlock like he did years ago. 

“You asshole let go!” But it’s too late. He noogies the hell out of your head and eventually lets you go after you bite him. “Asshole.” You repeat under your breath as you fix your hair. He has this smug expression on his face as he walks away with his girlfriend closely behind him, you and Shouto decide to catch up to the rest of the group. “So,” Shouto says, a small smile forming on his face, “You almost ate shit?” 

You groan and that smile grows bigger. “I don’t wanna talk about it?” 

“Like real shit or..?” 

“Shouto.” 

“Come on-“ 

“I don’t want to talk about-“ 

“I’ll just go ask Bakugou then.” 

“A bird shat on my ice cream and I didn’t notice until Katsuki pointed it out. But I didn’t eat it!” Shouto laughs. His is a little higher pitched then Katsuki’s. It’s warmer, heartier, and it echoes in your mind. “I didn’t eat it!” You repeat. He laughs again and raises his hand to your head, softly ruffling your hair. His touch was so much more tender than Katsuki’s but you wince anyways and a scowl forms on your face. Your head is sore but when no one is looking Shouto sneaks a kiss on your forehead. 

“My mom said kisses make a lot of things better.”

You’re red, flustered, and your heart is beating fast. “Well, she’s not wrong.” This time his heart skips a beat and he swears he sees pink on your face. Or did that kiss have him hallucinating? Either way, you looked pretty. 

“Race you to the beach?” 

“Get ready to lose IcyHot.” You playfully shove him and both of you take off running past the group. The confused expressions on your friends faces has you laughing but you yell, “last one in the water has to clean Kaminari’s room for one week!” and almost set off a stampede. Everyone reaches the beach and time becomes crucial. You’re ripping your clothes off revealing your bathing suit underneath as you run towards the water, you come in first, Shouto now shirtless, in second, Katsuki in third, and last? Poor Sero. Kaminari tripped him, yelling something along the lines of “you can’t force me to clean my own room!”. Kaminari always played dirty. 

“Fucking idiot.” Katsuki laughs. This time it’s booming and it shakes your core but you can’t help but laugh too but in the sea of people his eyes meet yours and you hesitate. Maybe it was the sun or maybe it was just your imagination but his cheeks were pink. “What are you looking at?” He questions with a toothy smile that almost made you melt. You stick your tongue out at him and instantly regret it. He lunges at you, pulling you under the water with him and a little yelp escapes your mouth. Uraraka uncomfortably laughs, Shouto just stares, the rest of the group doesn’t even notice. 

“Izuku!” You yell as you break for air. The green haired boy whips around and within seconds he’s on top of Katsuki and you’re both on your knees holding him under the water. Just like when you were kids. 

“Tell me where you hid the fucking drugs!” You pull his head out of the water, hands gripped tightly on his shoulders. Izuku’s the good cop. 

“Fuck you pigs!” Katsuki coughs with a smile on his face. “I won’t tell you shit!” 

“Shouto. Freeze him.” Izuku declares and you let out an exaggerated gasp.

“We’re both the bad cop?!” The green haired boy nods enthusiastically. “What a fucking plot twist.” You both look up at Shouto, he’s hesitant, unsure, but at the same time he seems to be enjoying it. 

“Do your fucking worst.” Katsuki growls, a little too into his character. Shouto raises his eyebrows and looks down at the blonde. 

“You sure about that scum?” You and Izuku squeal out of excitement and hold Katsuki down. He thrashes around in the water and Shouto reaches out, freezing both of his nipples. 

Katsuki.exe has stopped working. 

You and Izuku double over in pain from laughing so hard, Katsuki sits in the water eyebrows furrowed while his hands attempted to melt the ice, and Shouto? A smug as shit grin on his face. 

And for once in a long time you were happy. Spending time with your friends, crying from laughing so hard, and acting out movies in the water. Shouto’s reenactment of Frozen was scarily accurate, Kaminari’s Detective Pikachu was pretty bad, Mina reciting Mean Girl’s word for word had you seriously impressed, and Sero’s version of Spiderman was pretty good as well. You laugh as Izuku attempts to copy some All Might moves while Sero and Kaminari make sound effects in the back and you can’t help but think how Shouto’s mom hadn’t been wrong yet. The beach really did help mend a broken heart. 

The sun was setting now. You were sitting on the beach blanket next to Katsuki as the others played volleyball. Shouto’s face illuminated by the golden sun almost had you breathless. He was just so..pretty. 

“Sorry for inviting Uraraka.” You say out of nowhere, catching the blonde off guard. He shakes his head. “Sorry inviting the entire friend group.” 

“I knew it you jerk.” You mutter, sending a punch straight to his arm. He didn’t even flinch. Kaminari jumps up, catching the ball with his face and the both of you laugh, followed by a “what an idiot”. 

“Jinx you owe me a soda!” You both yell. 

“Jinx you owe me a house!” He gives up this time, chuckling, and shaking his head. He calls you an idiot under his breath but he really doesn’t mean it. It became an endearing nickname. “So round it all up.” He says. “Give me a list of what I owe you.” 

“2 sodas, 5 houses, 1 car, and what else?” You question, a finger tapping on your chin. 

“I remember there was a coffee shop in there somewhere.” He rolls his eyes.

“Ah! 1 coffee shop, 4 movies, and 2..” Your voice hitches in your throat. 

“Kisses.” He finishes. “You were a weird ass kid.” Your cheeks are burning crimson but your heart aches. 

“Yeah. I was.” You bring your knees close to your chest, eyes fixated on the volleyball game in front of you two. It gets quiet and for a minute, you’re sad again as you see Uraraka off in the distance. For a minute, you forget everything as he leans over, too close for comfort, and flicks your nose like he always does. And for a minute, before you could open your mouth to protest as your eyes watered, you feel his lips on yours.

Was it what you always imagined your first kiss with Katsuki would be like? No. His lips were dry from the sun, even though you had scolded him several times to put on chapstick with SPF 15 on. It was too short, too rough, but it still made your heart skip a beat and your face flush. 

But what the fuck? 

You’re staring at him eyes wide and there’s a cocky grin on his face as he turns to his attention back to the volleyball game. “Now I only owe you one.” 

“What the fuck Katsuki.” You growl punching him straight in the arm. Your eyes dart to the game in front of you two, scanning everyone’s faces, and then your eyes fall on Uraraka. Her mouth agape, expression hurt, and tears already forming in her eyes.

“What?” He asks nonchalantly. 

“That’s not fucking cool!” You hit him again, harder this time, and the expression on his face changes. 

“The fuck are you talking about?” He barks, getting defensive. Uraraka runs off, Mina shortly behind her even if she had no idea what was going on, and Shouto? He marches over, hands balled into fists, looking like he wanted to freeze the bastard. In the moment he’s so heated, so angry, he pulls Katsuki up by the collar of his shirt and Katsuki simply scoffs. 

“Lay your fucking hands on me IcyHot.” He dares, a smirk appearing on his face. And he does. Shouto lands a blow straight to his face and Katsuki rushes him, knocking him on his back, getting in a few good blows before everyone else runs over to break them apart. 

“What the fuck are you doing Katsuki?” You pull him off the half silver half red haired boy and drop his ass in the sand. 

“He fucking hit me first!” 

What a fucking child. 

You’re rubbing your temples and trying to sort through all the thoughts in your mind. 

“What the hell is going on?” Kirishima questions. You don’t say anything. Instead, you walk over to the now bloodied Shouto. 

“Jesus Christ.” You hiss, leaning down with your hands outreached to exam his face but he pushes you away and you’re frozen in your tracks. Did he really just do that? Your heart aches. “Shouto-” 

“I’m fine.” He gets up without even looking at you and Iida rushes him to the bathroom to tend to his bloody nose. 

You turn on your feels, facing the blonde in the sand and you’re fuming. Your teeth are gritted, fists clenched, and eyes watery. “The fuck was that Katsuki?” 

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.” He really could be a kid sometimes. 

“No, don’t fucking play that game with me.” You snap with a finger pointed in his direction as if he were a child getting a good scolding from his mother. “The fuck was that?” 

“I already said I don’t know what-”

“Why the hell did you kiss me?” You’re angry, upset, hurt. You didn’t want your first kiss like this and you definitely didn’t want to hurt one- scratch that- two of your friends. 

“Because I fucking like you dumbass!” He yells, face red, eyes not able to meet yours. 

“What the fuck bro? You kissed her?” Kaminari questions. Sero throws a hand over the blonde’s mouth, whispering something along the lines of “shut the hell up” and Kirishima and Izuku are standing there with mouths wide open. Your world is spinning, you’re confused but at the same time..happy? 

“You have a girlfriend.” 

“I don’t fucking like her. I don’t think I ever did.” He states matter of factly. “I was fucking projecting you on to her because I didn’t want to ruin our friendship!” With that, Izuku runs up to the blonde, throwing a couple more punches and everyone once again, breaks up another fight. 

What the hell was going on? 

“She deserves so much fucking better than you.” Izuku spits. You’re taken aback. Izuku? The sweet baby boy? Cursing? Venom dripping from every word? But you had to admit, Katsuki deserved it. Izuku runs off towards Uraraka- she locked herself in the bathroom while Mina stands outside trying to coax her through the door. 

“I’m..” You're standing there attempting to find the correct words, “..disappointed in you.” And with that you run off but you don’t hear the sound of his heart shattering.

First, you were going to explain to Uraraka that you didn’t mean to kiss her boyfriend. He kissed you. You would never do something to disrespect her like that. 

Second, you were going to talk to Shouto. Explain the situation a second time and hopefully he wouldn’t be so upset but that was only if he wanted to speak to you. 

Third, you were going to beat the crap out of Katsuki when everything was squared away.

“Solid plan.” You mutter as you run towards the girl’s bathroom. 

Uraraka was easier than you expected it to be. She mentioned that she knew he liked you, apparently it had been super obvious to everyone except for you. She was just shocked, a little hurt, but mostly shocked, she thought he would at least break up with her first. After ten minutes of her reassuring you several times that she was okay, you ran off to Shouto. Uraraka really was a sweetheart. 

Shouto was a little more difficult. You asked Iida from outside the men’s restroom if you could talk to him and he apologetically shook his head. “Shouto let me explain.” You sigh as you push past the blue haired boy. 

“(F/N) what are you doing?” Iida gasps. “This is the men’s bathroom! You can’t just walk in like that!” He grabs your arm, pulling you back and you fight him but when you finally get free you run in and collide face first into Shouto’s chest. 

“Can you give us a minute?” Shouto says looking straight at Iida as if he didn’t even see you there. You rub your now sore nose. Iida sighs and walks off, giving you two your much needed space. 

“Geez.” You mutter as you take his face into your hands, delicately touching the black eye on his scar. He doesn’t look at you. You frown, knowing the feeling all too well and remove your hands from his face. He leads you out of the men’s room and you stand outside, the sky now dark and the wind cold. 

“He kissed me.” You say. 

“I saw.” You’re searching his face for any trace of you don’t know what, but just something. 

“I didn’t ask him to.” 

“Did you like it?” He blurts out like a little kid. It was so endearing. 

“Honestly.” You sigh, taking his injured hand into yours. “I did.” You place a kiss on his bloodied knuckle. Just how hard did he hit that boy? “But my first thought was you. I was worried about you- worried about what you would think.” 

“Tell me.” His voice his soft as he lifts your chin up with the pad of his index finger. “Do I even have a chance against him? Do you even like me? Or are you just stringing me along?”

“Yeah.” 

“Yeah what?” His voice comes out a little irritated, as if he couldn’t wait for the answer. 

“Yeah, I like you but..can we stay friends?” 

He sighs and leans down. This time the kiss is soft. Everything you hoped your first kiss with Katsuki would be like- warm, fuzzy, it made your heart swell. He pulls away with a big stupid grin on his face and you giggle and tiptoe so you can kiss his swollen eye. He lays another kiss on your forehead and your heart skips a beat. 

“Yeah, we can.” 

Katsuki feels his heart drop at the sight.

Everyone crowds into the train and when you reach the dorms it’s already 30 minutes past curfew. Aizawa is fuming but his eyes soften as he sees a beaten up Shouto and Katsuki. At this point he could already tell it was an exhausting day so he lets it slide with a warning. 

“Good night.” Shouto mutters as he walks you to your door. 

“Night.” You reply, completely exhausted. He swings you around and places another kiss on your forehead. You smile and he does too but it’s sadder than usual, you make him a cup of tea and leave it at his door.

A few days past and the tension in the air died down. “You think I should talk to him?” You sigh, while shoving a spoonful of whatever you were eating into your mouth. 

“I think so.” Uraraka smiles. “He apologized to me the other day and he kind of looks really sad, like a kicked puppy.” 

“Well I’m still angry.” Izuku pouts. Uraraka just laughs a places a kiss on his cheek. They’re dating now. “What do you think Shouto?” He shrugs, stabbing his cold soba noodles with his chopsticks. 

“I don’t like him.” He states, his voice as cold as his soba. “But he’s your best friend right?” 

You sigh again and run a hand through your hair. “Yeah you’re right.” Iida changes the subject and while your friends around you chat, you decide to talk to the blonde later that day. 

It was after school now and you’re standing in front of the blonde’s room holding your breath attempting to mentally prepare yourself for whatever talk was coming. “Katsuki?” You mumble as you knock on the door a few times. “Can I come in?” He grunts in response and you open the door. He’s lying on his bed, arms behind his head, just staring at the ceiling. “Can we talk?” 

“No.” He says but he scoots over on his bed, leaving enough room for you to lie next to him. You giggle and a small smile forms on his face at the sound. You lie down next to him and his smell fills your nostrils. It’s familiar, it left butterflies in your stomach, and it made you feel warm. “I heard you apologized to Uraraka.” You’re staring at the ceiling too now. 

“So what?” 

“Proud of you my little Katsuki, you’re growing up so fast.” You imitate his mom, turning over to pinch his cheek, and he scowls at the action. Your breath hitches in your throat as you look at him. He looks so..heartbroken? “You okay?” 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” 

“You look sad.” 

“The girl I’ve been in love with for years has been ignoring me for 3 days.” He states. “And I think I ruined a really good friendship.” Your heart is racing now. You knew he liked you but for how long exactly? How hung up over this was he? 

“You idiot.” You sigh. He cocks an eyebrow in your direction. “Do you know how much of this could’ve been avoided if you just told me?” He stays quiet. “Uraraka and Shouto wouldn’t have been pulled into the middle of this whole fucking mess if you just told me you liked me too.” 

“Too?” He questions. Why the hell did he look so shocked? “Wait, hold the fuck up. You like me?” He sits up, staring down at you. 

“You didn’t know?” There’s a silence in the air and he’s sitting there dumbfounded. 

“I thought you were dating IcyHot? Didn’t you two makeout by the men’s restroom at the beach?” 

“That was a peck on the lips you idiot.” You hand a smack on chest. “And I came to the conclusion I wanted to stay as friends- but what the fuck Katsuki, I’ve dropped so many hints over the years that I liked you and you’re telling me you didn’t pick up on any of them?” 

It suddenly becomes obvious now and Katsuki slaps a hand against his forehead. “I am a fucking idiot.” He laughs has he throws himself back onto the bed. “Why didn’t you tell me directly?” 

“I uh..wasn’t sure you liked me too..” 

“You’re a fucking idiot. Who else do I treat this fucking well?” And suddenly it becomes obvious to you too and you can’t help but laugh. So there you are, two idiots in love, laying there in a comfortable silence. There’s something in the air that’s warm and it’s making the butterflies in your stomach flutter.  “What now?” He asks. “You wanna date or something?”

For a moment, you forget about Shouto, you forget about the broken hearts club, you forget about how he kissed you outside of the men’s room and how much you actually liked it. For a moment, you only want to feel Katsuki’s lips on yours again and you realize how actually in love you are with the boy. For a moment, he’s patiently laying there, waiting for your answer. You suck in a deep breath and sit up. He shoots you a confused look but then you lean down and kiss him. 

This time it’s softer, its tender, and there’s the tiniest bit of tongue. His lips are no longer sunburnt, they’re like two small squishy clouds. He smells like caramel and tastes even sweeter. It reminds you of home, it makes your heart burst and the butterflies swarm. “Wait that doesn’t count if you kiss me.” He says suddenly, your eyebrows furrow. “I still owe you one kiss.” You laugh and you land a playful hit on his chest. He pulls you down for another kiss. 

You’re warm. You’re content. You’re happy. 

Bonus scene: 

“Am I better kisser than IcyHot?” 

“You’re ruining the moment.” 

[bobbys-naughty-corner]

Mirio x reader lemon

You laid on your bed in your dorm, squeezing onto the sheets. Your heat had taken over you and at this point you could only masturbate to take care of it. You had dropped you medicine and now had no more. You’ve been on it for years, so now your heat was no longer suppressed it hit you different. You were lucky it started in the middle of the night. Before you did anything you locked your door, window and even checked your closet to be extra cautious. Your fingers sliding in and out of you as your other hand played with your clit. You had bunched your shirt up and held it up with your teeth, exposing your breast while you gagged yourself. “My oh my. You look really desperate sunshine.” Your eyes popped open at the voice. You looked up and saw your upper class man, Mirio, staring at you through your ceiling. “Mirio,” you whined out. Mirio had his famous smile on his face as the rest of his body came down through his floor but your ceiling. “Do you want help sunshine?” He towered over your body, standing on your bed, giving you a clear view of his body. He only wore black briefs, which barely held back his huge bludge. Your face flushed, your fingers still fingering and rubbing yourself. “I’ll take that as a yes. In that case what type of hero would I be if I left my woman in such agony when I can easily help her.” Mirio was waiting for this day, he respected your body and decision to take things slow but ever since he met you he couldn’t even get himself off anymore. You would cloud his mind and he would wonder how you felt under him, his hands no longer doing it for him. He needed you and now you needed him. Mirio knelt down and moved your hands. You were a bit against him removing your pleasure but still let him. “You know I can smell you upstairs? I actually have been able to smell your arousal all day but I’m guessing it didn’t hit you until now. Where did your medicine go baby?” He asked gently swiping a hand down your slit. “Floor~” You said through your shirt. “That’s no good.” Mirio frowned, but he was actually smiling on the inside. “Well it’s a good thing I’m here. A good thing you have me because I’ll take extra good care of you.” Mirio slowly pulled the shirt out of your mouth and leaned in to kiss you. Every time you two kissed outside the bedroom Mirio made sure to make it public. He loved to show off in front of his peers. Being a strong man and having a strong girlfriend as well, people started called you two the power couple of the school. It was nice, but this time when he kissed you it was so needy. His body weight over powering yours, his hands groping your chest and his mouth already dominating yours. Mirio’s hips pressing against your legs more causing your legs to move back, giving him room to grind against you better. You held onto his biceps and tried to control your breathing. One of his hands left your breast and slid down to his briefs. He pushed them down enough to expose his member. Mirio pulled his head away from yours, “look, do you think you can handle this?” He asked, your eyes wandered down and your pupils expanded. He was huge, not just big but also thick. Just looking at it had you leak more. You sat up and he moved back giving you space. You moved your body and pushed him, gently, onto his back. Your eyes still locked onto his penis. You arched your back and grabbed the base of his cock. Mirio pushed himself up on his elbows and stared at your raised ass. Yes, he is a ass man. He can’t help but stare at your ass anytime it’s visible to his eyes.

You couldn’t believe how much he was packing. You licked the tip and the back side of his length. It was glorious, a slight curve upward and veins protruding through his skin. Cleanly shaved, or waxed, you don’t know and don’t care. You hovered your mouth over the tip and let saliva fall from your lips. Using the same hand that gripped the base, you rubbed the spit all around. Your mouth slowly lowered onto the tip, sucking on it. You used you hand to pump up and down as you teased the tip with your tongue. Swirling around it and then sucking. “Damn babe. Who taught you that?” Mirio moaned. He put one hand on your head and gently tried to coax you into putting more in your mouth. You obliged and slid your mouth down as mouth as you could. You looked up at him looking for a reaction. “Mmm damn. Those eyes, that mouth and that lovely arch. Are you a succubus?” He joked, you just moaned around his length. Your nose was invaded by a smell that you smelt on some occasions when you were with him, but this time it was stronger. Mirio bucked his hips and you started to bob your head, using your hands to stroke the rest of him. Mirio reaches a hand over you and slapped your ass. “Mmph!” You nearly gagged. “Yeah that sounds nice.” Mirio grabbed your arm and pushed you off of him, dragging you off the bed. He set you on the floor, kneeling at his feet. “Open baby.” You opened your mouth widely and he shoved his dick in. Gripping the sides of your head to keep you from moving back. He hit the back of your throat and you gagged. “Yeah sunshine. That sound hot.” He gripped your hair tighter as he fucked your face. You pressed your hands on his thighs but he didn’t let up. After a minute or two he pressed your head into his body, his cum shooting down your throat. You felt your throat expand as he shoved himself completely in your mouth. “Oh fuck babe!” He pulled out and you coughed, gasping for air. Mirio instantly bent over, kissing all over your face. “You are amazing!” He said trailing his kissing to your neck. His body getting lower and lower until he got to you pussy. Mirio spread your lips and blew on your wet clit, the air made your hips buck. His tongue came out and licked it, his flat tongue licked from your hole to your clit like it was a icee. “Mirio~”, his tongue felt amazing. You bit a finger so you wouldn’t be so loud but you let out a sudden moan when he stuck a finger in you. His fingers were thick and big it felt like two of your own. “Ahh.” You moaned from behind your hand. His finger rubbed at your inner walls and thrusted into your heat really fast. “Please senpai, more.” You begged. Mirio moves his face and used his thumb to rub your clit while also sticking another finger in you. “Senpai huh? I like that. Say it again.” He face got closer to yours. “Senpai~” you moaned for him again. His lips attacked yours in a kiss, his fingers pumping into you and making your hips shake. Mirio loved the new nick name. “S-Senpai I- Nnngh!” you squeezed your legs together on his hand and came. Mirio still fingered you and rubbed your clit, dragging your orgasm. You pushed his hand away and tried to cover you pussy the best you can. “My God you look amazing.” He stroked your thighs trying to comfort you. His gently touch made you shiver. “Are you good? Was that enough?” He asked. You got up on your knees and crawled to the edge of the bed. Mirio helped you up onto the mattress, making sure to be very gently with you. He kissed your forehead and stroked your hair. “More, please, I want to feel you in me.” Mirio’s eyes widened at your words. He quickly ripped your shirt off and he was already out of his briefs. “This is gonna hurt, you probably know that. But hold onto me, do whatever you need to to bare with the pain.” Mirio leaned over you and buried himself in your neck. You had clung onto his back feeling him at your entrance. “Are you ready?” He asked. “I’m a big girl I can handle a little pain.” You said confidently but you soon regretted your words as he began to push in. You clawed at his back and he groaned.

His arms wrapping tightly around your waist as he had to calm everything in him to be slow and gentle with you. You whined and bit his shoulder. It hurt like hell, you were being impaled. “Fuck (y/n)!” He continued pushing in but soon he couldn’t go any further. “You did so well sunshine. Your body and face look so amazing.” He began kissing the little tears you let out being very cautious of his movements as he wanted you to adjust to him. “Tell me when you’re ready.” He told you, listening to your whimpers and whines. In a minute you were basically purring under him, you moved your hip a little and lightly moaned. “Move please.” You begged in his ear. Mirio moves his dormant head and looked up at you wanted to see your face as he fucked you. He slowly pulled out and pushed back in with a slowly pace. You whined but also moaned. Mirio sat up and gripped your hips, your hands sliding from his back to hold onto his arms. He thrusted in one more time, faster than the last, your breast bounced and he gave a devilish smile. His hands gripped you tighter as he kept a steady sped and a great pace. “Mirio you feel so good. Please more!” Your back arched at his thrust. You head flew back and it give him access to your neck to which he didn’t think twice about covering in hickeys. But there was one spot that had you seeing stars. He was kissing and sucking all over your neck as he fucked you. His dick pounding into you very nicely, rubbing all the perfect spots. Mirio kisses below the back of your ear and then bit down on that area. His pace then slowed to a stop. A scent filled his nose, it was raw and sweetly scented. It made his pupil constrict. He started his pace again, not letting go of the new spot he found, his hips smacking into yours roughly. You whimpered at the pace, raking his back with your nails and screaming his name. “Mirio! Mirio! Mirio! I’m gonna cum!” He sped up after hearing those words. His moans only grunts and gurgles as he but your neck harder. He was animalistic. The bed hit the wall vigorously, you were definitely gonna get noise complaints. Your legs shook as you felt your orgasm take over. Your pussy clamping his dick like a clothing clip. Your body clinging to his. Mirio slid his hand under the crease of your knees and lifted you up. He was on his knees lifting your body up and down his length, fucking you through your orgasm. His voice was deep, rough and loud. “Come again sunshine. Scream my name.” His hands connected behind your back as he fucked you faster. You were weightless in his arms. Your tongue hanging out your mouth as you chanted his name over and over, your neck hanging back like a PEZ dispenser. “Yeah you like that?” He teased in your ear. “Mhm” you responded. A hard palm smacked your ass. “What about that?” He asked again. “Yes!” You yelled. Mirio felt your body shaking and put you back on the bed. He was close and your orgasm was gonna bring him to the ecstasy he dreamed of for months. Mirio put both your legs on one shoulder and gripped your thighs pounding you through closed legs making you tighter and allowing him to go deeper. “I- I can’t!” You whined, you wanted to hold in your orgasm until he came but the new position made it impossible. You gripped the sheets tightly and closed your eyes. “I’m close too.” He panted out. He then began to go rougher and faster. It was too much, how was he making you cum so fast? You thought. He was a beast. Your back arched and he held still inside you. You felt hot liquid hit your breast and face. You both panted, you looked down and he had used his permeation quirk to avoid cumming inside of you. His tip sticking out through your uterus. Mirio then pulled out and plopped down beside you. His whole body covered in sweat, so was yours. Chest heaving as he got up. He grabbed your towel from the corner of the room and came back to wipe you off.

[hardyimagines]

Vodka Veins

Another Drabble 🥺

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Warmth. It burned. It trickled through your insides, flooding each muscle, vein, and sense. The intoxicating scent was like fire in your nostrils. They flared at the sting, a crinkle forming almost instantly between your brows. You should’ve been use to that smell by now.

Sticky fingers traced the rim of the bottle clumsily. The glass exterior was hot like your throat. You left the bottle out overnight. It was typically cold, the liquor thin, smooth as it slid down your throat, coaxing your thirst, quietening it. It was different when it was hot, it wasn’t as refreshing, yet still you tipped the half-empty bottle, watching with heavy-lidded eyes as the clear liquid filled the mug you’d been drinking tea from. The brown grains at the bottom lifted with the liquid, swimming in it uncertainly but with no choice. You closed your eyes.

The heat in your stomach radiated north, tickling your chest all the way up into your throat. It was an addicting feeling, to feel the craved comfort of something’s heat. The lack of your husband’s presence left a void inside you, one that was easy to fill with the beverage. You couldn’t taste it anymore. Your tongue was numb as you gulped from the glass. Your mouth was dry, thirst unquenched despite the amount you drank. It was draining you. Dehydrating you. Yet you continued to sip it.

You focused on the quiet tink that sounded when the rim of the bottle hit the rim of your mug. You’d set the bottle down with an audible thump before giving your sole attention to the vodka. It’s name was sweet on your lips as you pressed them together, your burning gaze unmoving from the waves that formed in your drink. You couldn’t tell if it was moving on it’s own accord, from being freshly poured, or if it was your spinning head that caused the affect. Probably a little bit of both.

The throb in your head was dull, but noticeable. It was faint, but painful, like a nail being hammered inside you. You lifted your palm to your hot skin, pushing firmly to try and cease the discomfort. The hammer hit harder and you winced audibly.

Whoever said to never mix a painkiller with alcohol had clearly never done it. The painkillers quietened the migraine and the vodka relaxed you considerably. It was the fifth night in a row you’d pass out against the table, with your arms folded and your head pressed against them, loose strands of hair draped in every direction on the wooden table.

Tonight you couldn’t find the relaxation you needed to drift into oblivion. You pushed yourself up from the table and crossed the length of the kitchen to the cupboard. Drawing the creaky cabinet open, your hazy eyes drifted along the containers jammed inside. You extended your arm, your hand trembling without you even noticing.

The light switched on suddenly, your eyes instantly narrowing, squinting beneath the bright invasion. Lifting your hand to your eyes, as if it were physically blinding, you turned your head over your shoulder to inspect who’d cruelly sent your head into a frenzy.

Your husband was stood in the doorway. His big, black coat was draped over his forearm, the material barely brushing against the watch he wore. A file of paperwork was clutched in his palm. He shuffled lightly in the doorway before moving further into the room. The man wasn’t exactly a giant, but in your vulnerable state, he seemed like he was Bigfoot. You turned your attention back on the painkillers, though you knew now that it wasn’t wise to try and take one.. some, not in front of Alfie.

Alfie tossed his jacket over the backside of one of the old chairs. His hands lifted to the buttons on the front of his shirt, adjusting them briefly. The heat inside the house was far different than the cold outside. The drastic change left him boiling. He set the papers down on the table and as he’d done for the last few nights, he lifted the bottle of liquor, examining how much you’d consumed.

“Again?” His hoarse voice sounded less threatening when you were shriveled in the corner, looking for something to numb the constant throb in your head. “Pet.” He stared at you, watching intently as your muscles tensed and your head straightened. He could tell you heard him, but you acted as if you didn’t. Your fingertips traced the bottles of medication, most of them for him for when his leg or back started to bother him. “I thought we fucking talked about this.” The swear was one of habit. His tone didn’t change. He set the bottle of vodka down a bit roughly on the table before weaving around it and stepping up behind you. His hand was seemingly cold against your hip, it’s chilly surface seeping through the material of your dress. He pulled you into him, drawing you away from the cabinet of medicine. “Y/n. Your fucking head, right, it hurts ‘cause you won’t stop fucking drinking that,” His finger pointed strictly toward the culprit on the table. “Yeah, you wouldn’t have a fucking migraine, would you, if you’d lay off the liquor.” His eyes were dark, intrusive as he pressed you against the counter. He lifted his hand to your chin, forcing you to look at him. It scared him. Coming home each night to a wife who could only remember the type and amount of alcohol she drank. You never said anything when you were drunk, he couldn’t ever understand you when you rarely did. His thumb traced your chin. “Big fucking relief it is to come home to a wife who’s just as absent as I am, innit?” His blue eyes danced between yours.

You’d confessed to him that you drank when you felt lonely, so he did all that he could to try and get home as soon as possible. Evidently, it wasn’t soon enough. You were killing yourself. Slowly, but surely. An addiction was the opposite of what you needed. It was eating you alive.

He watched as your dry lips parted, your tongue briefly moving against your teeth, as if you were going to speak. But as he strained his ears, he was given nothing.

“Right, well then.” His hand fell away from your face. What could he do? Make you the usual butter and toast? Fix a cup of tea and coffee in hopes that you could drink it and hold it down. On a few occasions you’d upchucked everything he gave you and he’d been left cradling your shaking body as you hunched over the bowl of the toilet. He hated seeing you like this. But he was too selfish to let you go. Part of him thought it would be healthier, set you free to find someone who could move you from up close everyday. His job didn’t allow it. “Let’s sober you up, yeah, talk about this once again.” His tone was different than usual, less thick, less harsh. He sat you down at the table, his hand curling around the neck of the bottle. He screwed the cap on tightly and watched as you laid your head down. When you were fast asleep, he was going to drain every bottle. The sink would be the liquor’s new home, consumed by the drain and washed down by the water.

Alfie made a hot cup of coffee and a hot cup of tea. He set a hot piece of toasted bread on a plate with some smeared, melted butter before taking a seat beside you. His arm extended, draped across the back of your chair as he waited for the alcohol to absorb in the necessities he’d given you.

It took a while. His eyes were red around the rims, droopy from exhaustion. He’d been on his feet all day. His throat was sore from shouting at the lads. He’d burned his fingers when reaching too soon for a tool. And his back was killing him. He didn’t speak about his problems though, he didn’t express to you that he needed some affection too every once in a while, to be noticed and cared for as he did for you each night. When you could form a coherent sentence and there was no slur in your soft voice, he slid closer, the chair legs groaning out against the floorboards. He didn’t know what to say. The two of you had had a long conversation a few nights ago, you crying as you expressed how empty it was to sit at home alone for days on end. Working a normal job only lasted so long. You were home long before he was, staring at the dinner on the table until it was cold and tasteless.

The silence that hung between the pair of you did most of the talking. Things were uncomfortable, awkward, and if there was no communication to find a solution, this marriage would fall apart. Alfie set his elbow on the table and let his fingertips trace the length of his beard. He watched you as you played with the remnants of your toast, brushing your thumb and pointer finger together to dust off the crumbs that clung to your fingertips.

“I don’t want to talk about this again.” You finally informed him. “It’s embarrassing.” You sighed. Your arms curled around yourself, a shy action instead of one to typically signal you were cold. Alfie watched you closely.

“If it were fucking embarrassing, right, you wouldn’t fucking be trying to kill yourself.” He murmured. His hand dropped from his face, arm flat against the table and fingers dangling off the edge. He watched you as you bit your bottom lip. It quivered. He sighed. You were going to cry. Cry out all that alcohol.

Your watery eyes burned from exhaustion. They burned from weakness and from the sting of the alcohol. Lifting your hand to your throat, you traced it briefly before looking toward Alfie. “I ain’t..” your brows creased. “I’m not trying to kill myself, Alfie. Sometimes i just drink a little quicker than I mean to.”

He pursed his lips before shrugging. “Not drinking at all, pet, right, that would be a good fucking way to avoid that, innit?” He sighed lowly before shuffling his heavy boots against the floorboards. “Fucking nonsense, that’s what it is, yeah, drinking that much alcohol, you’ve got something going on. Spit it out.”

“I’ve told you once, Alfie. I’ll tell you a hundred times. I don’t like the fact that I’m married to your house. I’m married to your dog, your furniture, your clothes, your belongings. But I’m not married to you. When do I ever see you!” You stood. Evidently, too quickly. The room spun and your legs felt like jello. Alfie extended his arm, fingertips wrapping around your own to gently pull you back down.

“Don’t shout.” He growled lowly. It was late. Neighbors were sleeping. And the last thing he wanted to do was fight. “I’m home an hour earlier than I use to be.” He defended.

“Right, and what does that do?” You collapsed back in the chair. “No meals together, no sex, no cuddling by the fireplace or talking until we’re tired. You just sleep, then leave, then sleep, then leave. It’s not a relationship.”

Alfie curled his hand against his thigh before shaking his head. “Least I ain’t drinking a bottle of liquor all hours of the day. I’m doing what I can to get home. I’m trying.”

You felt guilty as you watched the man slump against the creaky chair. He let a heavy huff fall past his lips, a sound that told you he was just as drained as you. Your stomach flooded with guilt, it was clogging. You felt stuffed and suffocated with the feeling as you squirmed at his side. Lifting your hands to your cheeks, you brushed at the salty teardrops that traced the underside of your eyes. “I’m sorry.” You whispered breathily. You knew he was doing what he could to be home with you. You couldn’t imagine him wanting to be filling out paperwork instead of spending time with you. He wouldn’t have married you if that were the case.

Alfie was quiet for a few moments, his ears ringing with your gentle apology. He sensed you wanted him to assure you that things were alright, but he wanted to remain with his thoughts for a few more seconds. The fridge in the corner let out a low hum, the annoying sound penetrating the silence. Alfie watched you from his peripheral, only reaching for you when he caught sight of a lonely tear racing along your cheek. You wiped at the droplet, the liquid smearing against the back of your wrist. His fingertips circled your wrist, delicate as he pulled you up and toward his body.

You dropped down in his lap with no hesitation. He was easy to curl up against. His legs were spread wide, bent at the knee and his arms wrapped around your middle securely, holding you firmly so when your body grew heavy and your limbs fell loosely, he had you. His lips brushed against your temple, one of his hands managing to grasp your own. You peered down at the contact, a faint smile forming on your lips.

“Promise me..” He started to speak. Your head lifted from it’s drooped position. Looking toward the man slowly, you lifted your free hand to his cheek, cradling it. His scruffy hair tickled your palm as your fingertips traced his flesh.

“I know.” You silenced him. Laying your head against his shoulder, your features nestled into the side of his neck, legs swinging in the slightest as you shuffled on his lap.

Tonight was the first night that you hadn’t started drunkenly screaming at him. He did his best to diffuse the situation when things got out of hand, but try as he might, he was hot-headed and your incessant yelling and will to disobey him when he pleaded for you to quit shouting only made it harder for him to prevent losing his cool. Each night he’d ended up yelling back at you, both of you red in the face, expressions tight and furious as you spat venomously, defensively toward one another. Neither of you could take it anymore. You didn’t know what else to scream at him. And without your need to rile him up, Alfie was tender, doing his best to sober you up.

This was the first time he’d been able to get you to promise you wouldn’t drink anymore. You made a change. He would too.

“I’ll talk to the lads.” He promised you. It was hard for him. He’d been working at the distillery for as long as he could remember and when the two of you had begun dating, it had been okay for your time together to be spaced out. You paid him visits at work and he came to see you when he was off. Married life was different. You’d vowed to love each other forever, but how was that possible when you rarely saw one another. He was so use to his routine, so use to doing things the typical, set way. He’d have to fix it. Even if it meant leaving four hours earlier for work just to be home four hours sooner after work.

His head tipped south, turning so that his pink lips brushed the soft spot on your nose. You tilted your head further so his mouth was forced to hover in front of yours. Your eyes were droopy as you gazed up at him, fingertips brushing from his cheek, down to his neck, along the collar of his shirt, to run along his tight chest. You inhaled deeply before lifting your head so you could close the small gap. His mouth was soft against yours, slow as it opened. Your heart fluttered, butterflies forming where the guilt had previously been. They flapped their wings furiously, making you shiver in delight. The tingling feeling he gave you would never fade, you knew that. He managed to draw such a reaction from you from the smallest action. Your lips mirrored his, parting so your tongues could slide out and glide along one another. Your heart thumped wildly, legs extending so the tips of your toes could push into the floor. Standing, only so you could rotate your body, you straddled his hips. Sex probably wasn’t the best way to recover from arguing for almost a week straight. Your body dropped back down on top of his own, straddling him fully now. His hands fell to your hips, gripping them gently as he pulled your body against his own, pinning you between his chest and the table. Alfie grunted. He groaned. And he sighed breathily when your fingers pulled at his thick strands of brown hair. You dipped your hips forward, smiling into the heated kiss when his hips instantly lifted to meet your own.

Everyone had their own way of making up, your way just happened to be efficient. It worked and it worked well. At least for the time being.

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[evangelene]

Despite What You Are (5)

Summary: Vampires don’t feed on blood, they feed on fear. So, why is yours so potent? Why were you saved by the most dangerous of all vampires–Kim Namjoon?

Based on this request:

“Can i ask for a ff where namjoon is a vampire mafia boss and has a spft spot for you. And you get into trouble woth a rival gang and he goes crazy? Fluffy and angsty 🌹”

Thoughts from the bedside

 Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four

It was bright. Sunny, borderline too sunny—the first time you were seeing the outside world since your departure from the world due to a smoky shitpile of a vampire injury. There probably should’ve been more fear associated with the act, but it was real hard to be fearful when Namjoon stood by your side.

Perhaps that moment should have been your first clue to your inevitable fate. But you were dumb, always and forever.

Without thinking, you sunk down to the grass, feeling the heat of the earth seep into your bones. Even when you were at the hunter’s association, the only version of the outside you ever got to see was one covered in barbed, electric wire and asphalt that desperately needed to be replaced.

Nothing really ever lived there; even the weeds were nonexistent--as if even the Earth knew that place smothered everything that tried to survive.

You could feel Namjoon’s eyes on the side of your face as you closed your eyes to the healing power of nature Yeah sure, it was just some fucking grass—but for someone who hadn’t seen nor felt grass in several years, it was heaven. There was even a pathetic little tree within eyesight that looked like the tree of life to an environmentally starved human such as yourself.

“What was it like in the human compound—not the Hunters’, but the one you came from?”

“Mmm.” You didn’t open your eyes because, well, you didn’t want to yet. “It was home. I grew up there; I had parents, friends and a life that actually felt like a life. I went to school and graduated; I had plans to get married and have a steady job. I remember that it was a place that felt safe and felt like it would bring me happiness... It was a place where I could dream. I haven’t dreamt in so long—it was better not to then to be crushed by what couldn’t be.”

Namjoon was silent for a moment, contemplative. “I wonder what my dream was before you. I can’t seem to remember if I even had one.”

“Namjoon!” It was perhaps the most horrifying noise to have ever graced your throat—somewhere between a growl and a shriek that ripped your vocal chords and left dryness at the back of your tongue. However, with the wire wrapping around your waist--threatening to cut off circulation to your desperate, dragging feet--you couldn’t find it in you to care about the pain of your scream. Rather, you let out another.

“Namjoon!”

There were tears coming to your eyes before you could stop them, adrenaline injecting itself into your veins out of frustration. Garlic. It smelled like too much garlic and the metallic tang of blood. If you were in a better state of mind, you would have chuckled about the fact that you finally, finally got rid of the smell of garlic burned into your nostrils from years of soaking weaponry. Before you could scream again, a gloved hand enclosed around your mouth—that motherfucking radio buzzing with static before a voice you desperately didn’t want to hear reverberated through the streets.

Don’t let her escape.

Despite the fact that the blood running through your system turned to ice, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the sight of Namjoon, sandwiched between Taehyung and Yoongi as they looped their arms through his. His screams somehow made it past the rushing in your ears and the silence of your body loosing the majority of its senses.

You hated that you could still hear the sizzle of garlic hitting his skin, the god awful smell permeating your nostrils.

I’ve got a read on your location—I’ll send backup. Make sure she’s alive.

Suddenly, as if you hadn’t been thinking about it every waking second—as if you haven’t been planning on putting your life in the hands of some shoddy medicine to remove it—you remembered the implant the Hunter’s Association had placed within you.

Hey, at least now you knew it was a GPS, right?

Yeah that did absolutely shit nothing to comfort you and before you knew it there was a god awful noise that sounded more feline than humanoid ripping through your chest.

Like a tiny, miniscule insect caught in a widow’s web, you shook and struggled. Every limb flailed fingers and joints digging into every available surface area of the woman holding you hostage. Your hands came up to rip the stupid lens off her face—the fucking bullshit piece of technology that Hunters wore regardless of the time of day. You nearly managed to reach her eye before she jerked her head away, your legs trying to kick out the back of her knee in her distraction. In a final act of desperation, your teeth sunk into the leather of her glove, trying to break flesh.

The wire around your waist cinched tighter around you, digging into your skin as you let out a god-awful shriek. “Fuck off!” But it was muffled through leather and hunter’s fingers.

She’s being unreasonable. Sedate her.

Another hunter approached you, ready to help assist the woman holding you like a wild animal needing to be removed from someone’s home.

“Oh fuck no!” You spat, hoisting your legs up to press square against his chest, shoving with all of your weight to keep him at bay. You couldn’t go down yet. Not yet. Namjoon was hurt. Namjoon needed you and these people would have to do everything in their power to stop you from going to him if they had any hope of keeping you.

Not that you were strong. God you wished you were strong now more than ever.

One of the woman’s hands freed themselves to search through the pack buckled around her hips.

Your mind raced, trying to travel back to hunter’s training, trying to remember what sedatives they had—how quickly they took effect. Would you have time to escape before you went down? Would you make it back to them?

Would you make it back to Namjoon before it was too late?

Too late. Too late for who?

Your eyes scanned the battle wildly, hunters invading the corners of your visions like the black spots you see when you’re about to pass out. Through their backs, you could see Hoseok, Jungkook and Jimin fighting them off in an attempt to get to you. Occasionally, one of them would look up at you and you could see their desperation increase in the power of a hit thrown to a human.

Y/N. I’m well aware that you can hear me.

Your laser focus slid back to the walkie at the female’s hip.

Your whole body froze at the sound of your name, one of your feet propped on the face of the hunter in front of you while your arms shook from the effort of holding back the huntress’ hand armed with a needle--far too close to your skin for comfort.  

I want to personally congratulate you. When you come home, you can expect to see a medal waiting for you in your honor. You brought us directly to Kim Namjoon. You brought down the largest and most powerful clan on the entire continent—you should be proud. Despite your previous disobedience, I will have you know that your slate will be cleaned with this gift to us.

A year ago, the news would have been good to hear for yourself. One less clan? One less powerful ass vampire to threaten your life? Great. Excellent.

But, since the only remaining strand of fear currently inhabiting your body was for Namjoon and his safety, you realized that you were no longer that girl from a year ago. You were no longer afraid of the world outside your walls, you were no longer afraid of all vampires and you sure as hell had no fear for the people that you once were forced to consider comrades.

God, if you could spit in the General’s Assistant’s face, you would have hocked the biggest motherfucking loogie your body could offer.

“And what makes you think I want your useless medal?” You hissed, returning from the depths of your repressed memories to the present moment. With renewed vigor, you clamped your legs around the male hunter’s head. Every ounce of strength you owned went to your core and abs, lip curling as you began the process of crushing the motherfucker’s head. His hands reached up to claw at your thighs, his mouth gasping for breath as the woman’s efforts to save her fellow hunter distracted her from the bigger picture: you. Still using your strength to kill, you discovered the ability to multi-task long enough to snap the needle out of her weakened hand.

One threat down. For now.

Not to say she couldn’t grab another. Not to say you weren’t one more hunter away from being dragged back to the base camp.

Are you choosing their side?

You looked up to meet Hoseok’s gaze, as he was the closest and the most active in trying to get to you. He was the one within earshot; he was the one that was most likely going to bring you back to Namjoon or get hurt trying.  And god did you love him for it.

(Vampires don’t make any sense)

“Yeah, well, humans don’t make much of it either.”

“You’re smart enough to answer that on your own.” You chuckled darkly, adjusting your grip on the man enough to be able to get a better grasp on his skull—the prior position obviously wasn’t working because…well… he was still breathing. The huntress behind you jerked you to the side in an attempt to remove you from the man you were smothering between your legs. However, it was the worst life-saving attempt you’d seen yet, considering you hadn’t let up on your vice grip and you had no intentions to do so.

All it did was snap his neck.

“But yes.” You murmured to his body as his hands slumped off your thighs and the huntress screamed out in rage directly in your ear. “I choose his side.” You slammed your skull back into her face, wincing at the throbbing of your eardrum.

The statement was all it took for Hoseok to take that final burst towards you, any concern for the bullets fired from the guns all around you lost in that moment. Your concern for his safety, however, only increased until you finally saw why he was no longer worried about the garlic soaked threats: Jimin was using the remainder of his strength to aid Hoseok (Small, almost invisible shields no bigger than a dinner plate—ten at max, so, considering Jimin’s weakened state, it was probably like five. The younger had told you about his ability one night when you were far too curious and far too drunk off some wine Jungkook raided for you).

If you had been in a less concerned state of mind, you probably would have noticed that his lips were moving in an attempt to convey a very important message to you. One that you blatantly ignored because one: it was loud as hell currently, and two: you were dumb.

Hoseok growled in frustration at you as you furrowed your brow on him, thrashing in the huntress’ grip whilst you tried (and failed) to read his lips. You would have absolutely bombed any whisper challenge.

It wasn’t until he was practically in front of you that you could finally make out what he was trying to say, and surprise! It wasn’t “Do apes eat chocolate?”

“Y/N! Cover your ears!”

“I think that Hoseok has the worst ability.” Jiwoo said during one of her bouts of oversharing. You two were similar in that aspect. Suddenly, when presented with a genuine friend willing to listen to your endless rambling, you both found silence impossible and filled it to the brim with ADD thoughts. “I mean, not the worst as in, like, useless—but worst as in fatal.” She made a face at the ceiling. “I said that wrong, didn’t I?”

“Yes, Jiwoo.” You, too, chuckled to the ever listening ceiling. “You did, but continue anyways. I really want to know now.”

“Well…like…how do I put this…” She paused. “Okay, well he can alter his vocal chords in a way that can bust the brains of whoever he chooses. It’s like a sonic scream—however it’s all dependent on the tone. He’s perfected the right note to kill humans within his radius. Vampires are another story; he’s been working on that one. Apparently vampiric brains vary too much to make it easy for him.”

In a heated scramble as the woman screamed “STAND DOWN” in your already aching ear, you wrestled your hands free—nearly slapping yourself in the process of trying to keep your brain in your head. You thought that having the precious organ leaking out your ears would not be an attractive or life-sustaining look.

The sound burst through your fingers anyways, shimmying through your ear drums until your head was shaking with the force of Hoseok’s screams. The people around you froze and twisted like they’d been shot, bodies contorting at impossible angles as if they were exploding from the inside out.

In the chaos, Hoseok was able to get close enough to you to slap his hands over yours as added cushion to the hell of his voice. Despite both layers of skin and bone, you still felt blood dribble down from your nose and onto your upper lip. You screwed your eyes shut and clenched your jaw against the dampened noise; god, you did not want to imagine what it would sound like with bare ears.

The huntress behind you finally slumped, the wire around your waist loosening to a puddle at your feet, now that the person holding it was no longer living.

When Hoseok’s hands finally lifted off of yours—it couldn’t have been longer than five seconds, even if it felt like an eternity to your dum hooman brain—your ears were still ringing.

But you were alive.

Which, honestly, was more than you could say for the fallen hunters strewn around you like dead flies.

You didn’t want to look behind you, but curiosity got the better of you and you wound up making eye contact with the woman who had been holding you hostage. Granted, her eyes were darkened and seeing nothing—but that didn’t stop the frozen look of pain on her face as blood leaked from every possible orifice. If you weren’t so preoccupied in your thoughts, you probably would have thrown up. Instead, you just spit the gathered blood in your mouth at the ground, frowning at the radio on her hip.

“If you can hear me, fuck you.” You mumbled, if only because your tongue felt heavy and the world was swaying around you.  You doubted that he could; the words were for your own sanity, for your own control of your life. For Namjoon.

Namjoon.

Namjoon needed you.

You took one swirling look at Hoseok, nodding your thanks because you couldn’t remember how to use your vocal chords. Your first attempt at bolting back towards the compound was thwarted by the fact that your legs were now noodles and the ground was pitched at a drunken angle. Gracefully, you wound up slamming into the busted concrete in a pile of limbs. But, like the stubborn mule you were, determination had you back on your feet and plowing forward before you could even process the fact that you had actually fallen on top of a dead body.

There was a fierce ringing in your ears and every breath you took sounded too loud for the sudden silence of the universe but that one singular thought outweighed every earthly issue.

He chuckled softly. “You are a very interesting human, Y/N.”

Somewhere in the distance, in a faraway parallel universe where your body was but your mind wasn’t, you could feel the pain, exhaustion and agony of moving as fast as you were forcing yourself to. However, it was easily washed out by the pounding of your heart in your chest and the buzz of worry in your brain.

He still had the same smile though.

Bursting through the gates of the compound like a garlic soaked madwoman, you scanned the crowd of equally panicked vampires, failing to note the ones trying to direct you in favor of focusing on the most devastating sound you’d ever heard:

Namjoon’s agonized screams of pain.

Rushing out onto the warehouse floor, you noted that they had haphazardly tossed him onto a table, several vampires holding down his limbs in an attempt to stop him from writhing to the floor. A very unsure and emotionally unstable Taehyung was wiping at his neck in a vain attempt to stop the flow of blood despite his thrashing.

Everything that had been burning hot in your body instantly hit its freezing point, suddenly making you unable to feel your extremities.

Mechanically, as if you knew you couldn’t touch him with your own bloodied, garlic-tainted hands, you ripped off large chunks of your shirt to wrap around them. You stepped towards him slowly, giving yourself enough time to prepare yourself for what you had to do.

However, you, yourself were at a lack of what that might be.

You couldn’t tear your eyes from him—everyone else disappeared around you as if he was the only remaining being on this planet besides yourself. He was sweating with a fever, his skin paling before your eyes.

Vampires don’t get sick.

“Namjoon.” You whispered, completely ignoring the concern of Taehyung by your shoulder. Gingerly, you placed your clothed palms against his chest to get better leverage for you to take a closer look at his wound. Luckily, it appeared that the bullet had just grazed his neck--which would have been fine for him were it a normal bullet. However, since it was garlic laced, the location was perhaps the worst spot in his body to receive such a wound.

Since it was in a place that was directly flowing garlic laden blood to a system that couldn’t handle the substance.

“Namjoon.” You whispered again.

He only let out a huff of breath and a pained grown, his eyes unable to focus on anything in front of him.

Get rid of it, you have to get rid of it. You have to take out the garlic. You have to---

Your hand reached up to cup his face, forcing his gaze to flicker to you.

“Namjoon, look at me please. If you can hear me, please look at me.” Your brow furrowed in determination. “Don’t close your eyes. I need you to stay awake. I need you to look at me. If you—if you close your eyes and I lose you then what was the fucking point of all of this?” You hissed because you wanted to shout but you couldn’t make yourself any louder than you already were.

You didn’t realize you were crying until you watched cool droplets pepper his skin.

Shakily, he freed one hand from the vampires holding him, slowly reaching up to brush away your tears intermingled with blood; his blood or yours, you didn’t know.

You could feel it then, whatever “it” was. You could feel him. You could feel his pain, his fear, his worry. You could feel what he was thinking without being able to process it into words. And, in that moment, you knew you would risk it all for him.

Because….because….

Because I love you.

“Trust me.” You murmured, leaning into his touch before shifting to get a better grasp on him.

Water wouldn’t work, and with a lack of medical knowledge or equipment, there wasn’t a better way to get rid of the poison in his system.

So you did what only a human could do. You leaned down, feeling the heat of his fever radiate a scorching energy across your skin as you got closer to the wound. Swallowing one last free breath, you steeled your nerves and latched your lips around the wound.

You took an experimental bite, gathering as much blood as you could in your mouth before leaning up to spit the garlic laden liquid into the hem of your destroyed shirt. The second time you went in, he jolted against you—his body letting out an awful groan that quickly became a borderline scream. It took every bit of muscle you didn’t have to hold him down and repeat the process.

In that moment, you felt like an honest to god vampire—the ones from the history books; the ones that turned out to be incomparable to the real ones. The ones prior to the War of 2048. The ones that drank blood and lived in the darkness and didn’t understand humans as a source for anything but food.

The ones that wouldn’t be able to grasp your free hand as tightly as the one beneath you.

You continued until you couldn’t taste garlic anymore, until his skin slowly returned to its normal, honeyed color. You continued until the vampires around him could release him because he was no longer shaking uncontrollably. You continued until his sweat broke and the heat of his skin no longer scalded yours, until you couldn’t take the continued taste of his blood—until it became more metallic than sweet.

In a final gasp of breath, you spit the remainder into your soaked shirt, lifting your head to wipe at the smear of blood on your chin.

His eyes bore into your face with a clarity that relieved the majority of your worries.

He still couldn’t move properly, and he still wasn’t fully himself because, naturally, it would take a while for him to gather back his full strength. But what mattered was that he was here now. He was alive and there wasn’t enough garlic remaining in his system to threaten his life.

Taehyung handed you a fresh rag, allowing you to press it against Namjoon’s wound as he coughed. His words were weak, but you were hyper focused on him and could have heard them even if he didn’t make a sound. “This…” He coughed again. “This wasn’t what you wanted.”

Your eyes felt like they were being held open with toothpicks, your body succumbing to exhaustion now that the adrenaline was quickly leaving you behind. Despite it all, you couldn’t help but let out a soft chuckle at his worry. “No. This wasn’t what I wanted.”

“I…” He licked his lips. “I’m not what you wanted.”

You brushed his damp hair off of his forehead, continuing to hold pressure to his neck. You couldn’t help the gentle smile you gave him. He was cute.

This vulnerable version of him was cute.

“No.” You murmured. “No you weren’t.”

You could see the smile in his eyes, if only because his face had trouble making any expression other than tired pain. “But you stayed.”

You could have left. You could have let them take you back to the humans.

But you didn’t.

He didn’t have to say it for you to hear it, for you to read it in the features of his face.

You nodded, feeling your heart go rogue against your sternum. “I did.” You chuckled. “I did.”

~.~

You rested your head against the wall of the bathroom, brow furrowed on the ceiling. Every ounce of your energy was zapped into oblivion, leaving you a heaping mess on the floor of the restroom you’d been banished to.

In the wake of their clan leader being injured, you’d been removed from his side to go clean up—however, with the six currently occupied, the other vampires deemed you dangerous (what with your garlic hands) and, unbeknownst to the people who gave a shit about you, you were forced to take care of yourself. That, however, was hard to do when you were a walking injury who found out she could no longer move.

Not like you could blame the vampires though, as far as they were concerned, you were a walking weapon. And, well, they didn’t really understand the human body’s limits—the only people who did were otherwise occupied.

Of course, that didn’t change the slight sting of loneliness in your bones. Honestly, you were spoiled being around people who cared about you for more than the title of your chess piece.

It made you want to continue to be cared about.

Well, it was your fault that you made yourself a garlic bomb during a vampiric battle.

Battle? Were you really part of a battle? Did you seriously live through a battle?

Who the fuck were you now? Some freaking heroine in a dystopian novel?

With a scoff that determined you were no longer going to mope and feel sorry for yourself, you weaseled your way up into a sitting position—albeit with too much effort and a heaving amount of pain that had you wincing and biting your cheek to stop from crying out.

“Okay, Y/N. Next step.” You murmured to yourself, grabbing the edge of your destroyed shirt. “You can do this.” You managed to get the fabric to your shoulders before you forehead broke out into a sheen of sweat and you gasped out a pathetic noise of pain at your aching and bruised muscles. “Okay, girl, maybe you can’t do this.”

It was at that moment, with you pathetically bearing your ruined bra to the universe inside the bathroom walls that the door burst open with absolutely no hint of delicacy.

You honestly couldn’t find it in you to give a shit as you tilted your head up to meet the intruder’s gaze.

Jiwoo’s angered stare met yours, the rage transforming into worry within one millisecond as she caught sight of you pathetically slouched on the tile. You didn’t get a chance to speak or unpack any of her emotions before she was letting out a snarl.

“I’m going to kill them.”

“Who?”  You would have been scared if she didn’t look like she was going to cry. If your arms weren’t dead weight in your lap and if you legs could work you would have hugged her.

“Everyone. The people that did this to you, the vampires that thought you could fix yourself on your own, you for getting into this mess--everyone.” You hadn’t realized she had been holding the door open until she fully stepped inside and let it slam behind her with an earthquake thud.

You only nodded stupidly, your gaze cast down to your hands and the bloody, smelly mess that they had become. “I have garlic on me.”

She crouched down, grabbing the non garlic soaked bit of your shirt to remove it entirely before tossing it into a corner.  You didn’t miss the way her lip curled at it in disgust. “So?” Her voice was soft in comparison to the steel of her features as she crouched down in front of you. “I can’t believe they left you all alone in here. How are you supposed to care for yourself in this state?”

The longer she squatted before you, the longer she assessed the damage done to your body, the deeper the crease between her brows got. It would have been a shame if she gave herself wrinkles, she was pretty.

“What about Yoongi? The others? They need more attention than me—“

“Y/N.” She cut you off grabbing both of your hands despite the grit of her teeth as the garlic sizzled into her skin. If only because you were afraid she would hurt herself further, you let her lift you to your feet so she could help you wash the blood and pasta sauce from your hands.  It was definitely her doing the lifting too; you were more ragdoll than human at the moment. “I won’t let you be alone. Not right now.”

You stared at your feet, letting her take care of you—refusing to meet your own stare in the cracked and dirty mirror above the sink. Who wanted to look at themselves when they knew they were the reason for everything that just happened?  She reached over to the first aid kit that had been tossed in the room with you earlier, frowning at the pathetic array of medical equipment garnered for you. “There’s not even anything to scrub you with.” It seemed her disdain for the vampires that left you in here by yourself was only growing by the second, her anger a ticking time bomb. You felt she didn’t know what else to be—you felt like she felt as helpless as you did.

“Ji, its fine, really—“ But, when you lifted your head you could see her taking her shirt off behind you, dunking the fabric into the sink before you could even form any words. “What are you doing?!”

“I’m taking care of you.” She said simply, grabbing your arm to begin cleaning the stale blood from your skin. “Because you can’t and he can’t and no one else will.”

“I can do it.” You murmured weakly, but if it weren’t for her grasp on you, you would probably have collapsed to the floor; even she could see that. Your eyes followed the path she cleaned, wincing at the pain that came with the archeology of healing. Underneath layers of dirt and blood you both discovered the cuts and bruises—the threatening fractures that had you making pathetic noises in the back of your throat. You discovered the pain that settled into your bones and made you immobile; even you didn’t know just how bad your injuries were. You hadn’t really had the chance to figure it out in the wake of Namjoon.

But the masochistic part of you said that it wasn’t enough pain—you should have more. You should be dead—you should—

“Why?” Jiwoo whispered, her voice hoarse. “Why would you put yourself in danger like this? Namjoon—he could have handled it himself.”

You knew that. A deep-set part of you knew that. As her shirt turned washcloth soothed the heated ache in your back with cold water, you knew that everything you did was in vain. Even sitting there, safe and sound in an abandoned bathroom, you could still hear Namjoon’s screams. You could still hear the buzz of the walkie talkie’s feedback.

You could still smell garlic.

“He could have.” You murmured.

All your fault, Y/N. This is all your fault. If you weren’t so stupid he would have been alive and well and completely fine.

So would that Hunter you were partnered with.              

Jiwoo’s gaze softened on you, her forehead resting against your temple. “If it was Yoongi, I know I would have done that same. But you and I—we are different species, you have to know that. You matter too much, Y/N. What would we do without you?”

You felt tears building in your eyes, that pathetic, fragile spine of yours folding easily to your fear, your blame and your guilt. You were nothing if you weren’t weak-willed, a human afraid of everything.

Especially herself.

“I wanted to keep him safe.” You whispered. “I’m nothing special, just a dumb human. But he’s done all of this for me and I—I-I—“

Jiwoo’s arms were around you before you could think properly, the pain in your bones a punishment you bared with all the grace of gritted teeth and a yelp of pain that you swallowed in your chest. Her hugs were a force to be reckoned with, because they were usually the contact you got when you needed it most.

“You are incredibly special.” Her anger tried to punch through your thick skull like a lobotomy needle, quick, sharp and to the point. “You aren’t special just because Namjoon is your mate, not just because you’re a small, fractional possibility in a sea of normality. You aren’t special because your fear tastes like what I imagine your human sugar tastes like to you. You are special because you are Y/N. There is only one you; no one can replace you.”

“Everyone is replaceable.”

She shook her head. “No. Not everyone is. Not everyone can make Hoseok laugh so loud that he breaks the glass to the oven. Not everyone can make Taehyung distract enough to get lost during missions because he was looking for a game—if only because he now has someone who wants to play with him. Not everyone can make Seokjin smile like we’ve never seen in years. Not everyone can make Jungkook control himself around a human as much as you can; if only because he wants to be your friend so bad that he forces himself to do the impossible. There hasn’t been a single person—vampire or human—to understand me the way you have. Not everyone can stand up to a room full of vampires when it is obvious that they shake at the mere sight of them. Not everyone can dare to shoot a gun at death and still be standing of their own accord. Not everyone can stand in the middle of two species and find peace with what they had always considered their enemy. And for sure, there isn’t another person on this planet that could make Namjoon fight as hard as he is for you. Y/N, there is absolutely no one else like you. If you were not here, we would all suffer.”

At some point, during her speech that could have moved mountains, her thumbs had come up to brush away tears you hadn’t realized had been falling. It was a lot to say you were worth it when this mess was caused by you.

It’s all your fault he’s hurt.

“But I couldn’t save him.” You whispered.

Her hug was unrelenting, her care momentarily forgotten in the wake of your emotional trauma. “You did.”

“But it was my fault that it happened in the first place.”

“It was the Hunter’s Association’s gun, not yours.”

“But—but I am a Hunter.”

She pulled back to asses you, her eyes flitting across your face as if she was trying to figure out if this was truly a person she knew. “Are you?” Her brow furrowed on you. “Have you ever killed a vampire, Y/N? Hell—“ She scoffed. “Have you ever killed anyone?”

“My--my actions caused people to die.”

The trees became made of blood, the petals falling bits of bone that dislodged from the branches. In the shadows you could see clawed hands reaching for you, pitch black eyes boring into yours as it grabbed your wrists and—

Jiwoo lifted your hands to your line of sight. Her hands weren’t clawed; her nails were blunt and normal around your wrists—gentle, even. Her eyes were clear and kind and didn’t whisper death threats in your ear. “These, Y/N. Have these hands ever taken life?”

You stared at her; the force of your nightmare dissipating around you launched you into a state of shock. It was a ghost that had haunted you, a shadow that never removed itself from you—something you could never get rid of.

But in the bathroom, there were no trees and there was no blood but your own.

You still had your guts in your stomach and you heart in your chest.

You shook your head.

She smiled, blinding in the close proximity. “Then you are not a Hunter, you are Y/N, a very special human. My most special human friend, someone I could not live without.”

The tears that fell could have been from the pain and exhaustion, from the relief of thinking you lost Namjoon, from the realization that your life was inextricably changed forever. But, for the first time in forever, you wanted to believe that they came from happiness.

It was funny how a vampire could be more human than humanity itself.

~.~

It was strange, to say the least. An odd feeling to have the roles reversed; like you were in a parallel universe where you were stronger than Kim Namjoon, the clan leader of the century. It didn’t feel right for you to be sitting curled up in the chair while he lay injured and breathing heavily on the bed.  How long ago was it that you woke up to those golden eyes? How long ago was it that you were in that bed while he was in that chair?

How long was it that you realized you didn’t want to be anywhere he wasn’t?

It had taken Jiwoo a tremendous amount of effort to get you upstairs and to the room—despite protests from both her and Taehyung who insisted that you get your own rest in a more comfortable place such as their own plush beds. However, you told them you wanted the chair; you told them that you wanted to see him—that you needed to be there. With pity in their eyes, they obliged if only because, by now, they knew you could be unreasonably stubborn when you wanted to.

It was a painful fold, no matter how you situated yourself in the furniture, you couldn’t get comfortable. Everything felt swollen and injured, threatening to tear your skin at the seams and spill all your metaphorical stuffing to the floor. But you wanted to be there.

It should have been boring, honestly. Sitting there aching and in pain and just staring at him as he slept should have been the epitome of torture. But it wasn’t.  There was something that stilled the panic inside of you just by watching him rest. Despite the way your fingers fiddled at your chest, you felt comfort in watching the rise and fall of his breaths. It didn’t help your nails from scratching at your skin as if you could reach through your own skin and rip out the device to blame for all of this. If you could have, you would have gone back in time and forced him back sooner. You wouldn’t have laid there on the asphalt like a tired heap of a human, you would have remembered about Jisung’s teleporter.

Maybe then this wouldn’t have been your fault.

But no what ifs and no time controlling could transfer this blame. Even the soft words from Jiwoo couldn’t erase the guilt settling in your gut. Nothing could stop the cacophony of sound from reverberating in your skull, bouncing through your brain until all you could hear was the endless repetition of “My fault. It’s my fault.”

Even when you screwed your eyes shut in the hopes that the loss of one sense would erase them all, it couldn’t stop the unbidden image of Namjoon falling as he screamed in pain. Nothing could uninstall that frame of mind you had when you thought that you were going to lose him forever. You were afraid like you hadn’t ever been.

You’d never had a need to be afraid for another person, because you’d never had any people you loved more than yourself.

You didn’t want to be in this world if Namjoon wasn’t; you didn’t want to imagine a life without him in it.

In that moment, your body went lax, a chuckle escaping you as the tears burst past the gaps in your eyelashes. You had to give up to move on. You had to give up because there wasn’t any way you could lie to yourself any longer.

You loved Kim Namjoon. More than you’ve ever loved anyone, more than you think you’d ever love anyone else.

He wouldn’t understand the sentiment, he wouldn’t reciprocate in the way you wanted him to, but it was better to have what you could than nothing at all, right? He cared for you, and that was enough—that had to be enough.

With a heavy sigh, you peeled open your eyes, tilting your head back to the spot where you knew Namjoon would be.

However, you didn’t expect to meet the intensity of his golden gaze in that exact moment. You didn’t expect him to be awake, one eyebrow raised at you as you nearly jumped out of your skin at the sight of an injured man coherent.

“What is so funny?” He murmured, his tone shifting the moment he caught the quick sight flash of a tear kamikaze-ing down your cheek. “Why are your eyes wet?”

You let out a bark of laughter, unable to help the sudden onslaught of fresh tears running wild. “It’s called crying, stupid.”

“But why?”

You loved him. You loved him so much.

Your eyes met his once more and you shook your head, your lips twisting into a sad version of a smile. “I don’t even know anymore.”

Letting your extremely unhelpful answer slide for the moment, his eyes flit across your features to linger heavily on the bruising evident from the blown out collar of your shirt—his piercing stare especially zeroed in on the blood seeping through the fresh bandages on your hands.

You could sense his hatred and anger without him ever uttering the words; you could taste it in the air as it soured on the back of your tongue.  All he had to do was look at you for you to know what he was thinking.

Was it the same for him?

You rested your chin in the palm of your hand in an attempt to hide some of the damage from his probing stare. “I’m fine, honestly. You…” you took in a sharp breath. “You almost weren’t.”

He sunk his head back into the pillow underneath him, however his gaze never wavered from you. “Humans are more fragile than I will ever be—you were also almost not fine.”

“Perhaps. But at least I didn’t have artery exposure to a substance I’m deathly allergic to.” You murmured, raising one eyebrow back at him.

He pursed his lips at you, an ever present crease gathering between his brows. “Touché.”

There was a brief moment where it was just the two of you, meeting each other’s stare. Naturally, you had to be the one to look away first, finding solace in the way your hand curled around the fabric of your jeans. It was easier than trying to decipher what that glimmer in his gaze meant.  

However, this time he was the one to break the silence first. “I’m sorry that I did not tell you what we were going out to do.”

You shrugged. “I want to say its fine, that I am overly emotional about a lot of things for no reason. But it’s not.”

He nodded. “It is not my intention to exclude you from these happenstances; however I value your life over your temporary satisfaction.”

“Will this be a long-term issue?”

“I hope to clear this mess as quickly as possible, as Jisung has decided to make himself far more annoying than initially planned.”

You bit your lip, your fingers kneading into the sore flesh of your thigh through the fabric. “It’s my fault, isn’t it? All of this. You wouldn’t be in this position if it weren’t for me.”

“Y/N, while it is true I may not have been a clan leader if it weren’t for your existence, I would still find myself in a similar predicament. We want to protect our mates.”

“You were born to be a clan leader.”

His eyes sparked with something you couldn’t yet name and you didn’t dwell on it for fear of your thoughts leaking into his. “I appreciate the compliment. I would appreciate it even more if you quit blaming yourself for the results of Jisung’s confrontation. This is not your fault—my injury is not your fault.”

“The tracking device is in me, it is my fault.”

He let out a long-winded sigh. “Is that what this is about? Something that the humans did to you? Do you now blame yourself for their faults as well? What they do to me, what they have done to you, is also not your fault.”

“But—“

“Y/N.” He slowly extended one hand out towards your chair, his fingers long and inviting—they looked like they might be real nice to lace through yours. “Come here.”

You didn’t move despite the fact that there was a tantalizing offer on the table, instead, you swallowed and forced yourself to face him with all of your mouse bravery. “I thought I was going to lose you from this. I thought that this was it, that I wasn’t going to see you alive anymore because of this stupid device. I don’t think I could ever forgive myself if…if…if…”

“If I died?” That damn eyebrow of his was at it again, incredulously raised just to mock you.

You gulped despite the fact that your mouth was dry. “Yes.”

His eyes were warm, warm in the same way that protected you years ago, warm in the way that engulfed you while attacking Jisung, warm in the way that only Kim Namjoon could be. “I won’t be going anywhere anytime soon; death is improbable because I have you.”

You felt your face heat up like a kettle on the stove, slowly seeping up your neck until the tips of your ears were burning. You really didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing you embarrassed, but his words hit too suddenly for you to recover quickly.

“Besides, we now have matching scars.” He gestured to his bandaged and immobile shoulder before going back to offering you that extended hand.

Like the shittiest matching couple’s outfits.

“I would equate it more to couple’s tattoos—I saw those in one of those mating movies.”

You shook your head, too tired to correct his entire being in the moment. “That’s a curse, not a sign of affection—don’t you know those always end horribly?”

He rolled his eyes. “Y/N, will you just take my hand?”

“You need to sleep.” You whispered, despite the fact that your fingers were already reaching out to brush across his.

It took little to no effort for him to snap his hand around yours, ripping you from the sheltered safety of the chair and into his side as if that was the place you belonged. However, you could see a sheen of sweat break out across his skin from the effort exerted to move you like a ragdoll.

“You’re going to hurt yourself further! You’re still healing!” You snapped, though it had no bite with the heat emanating from your tomato cheeks at the close proximity to his face. You were absolutely, 100% sure that he could feel the way your heart jack-hammered against your sternum.

“Well you weren’t making it easy, so I had to do something.” He mumbled like a kicked puppy, wrapping his good arm around your shoulders to keep you pinned to him. “Besides, you’re warm in the way I like. You are a natural healing agent.”

“Stop saying embarrassing stuff!”

“But I like the way it makes your face turn different shades of burnt.”

“You’re lucky I don’t want to hit you because you’re injured!”

But he only laughed, the sound vibrating through your bones. “I am, aren’t I?”

You buried your face into his good shoulder so he could no longer get the satisfaction of flustering you with his being. “Stop watching romance movies—you’re getting cheesy.”

“What’s cheese?”

You groaned, reaching up to cover his eyes with your hand. “Just go to sleep already, would you?”

~.~

“You’re going to have to feed if you’re going to have any hope of getting off of that bed.” Yoongi’s glare was unrelenting; his arms crossed and frown permanently creased into his features. However, it appeared that Namjoon was otherwise distracted, his attention solely focused on you and Seokjin as he assessed your injuries. “Yah! Are you even listening?”

“No.” Both you and Namjoon spoke at the same time, much to your scowl and his shit-eating grin.

“He’s too busy focused on the person who’s been able to walk around and move just fucking fine this past week while he’s still bed-ridden and glued to a mattress.” You grumbled under your breath, wincing as Seokjin slipped a needle under your skin.

“What are you doing?” Namjoon asked instead of answering either you or Yoongi’s retorts.

“I’m giving her something to help with the swelling.” Seokjin murmured. “However, perhaps you should take the advice of your colleague and your mate and focus on yourself in the meantime.” He hit a particularly sore spot, whispering apologies as you pressed your lips into a line to unsuccessfully disguise the grunt of pain.

“I want to know what it is. I want to know how to help her—I don’t want to rely on you for everything.”

Dead puppies dead puppies. Daisies. Dogs. You missed dogs. It’d been a long time since you’d seen a dog.

You focused your ADHD thoughts on literally anything but the fact that you were relying on Seokjin for far more than making you better—you were relying on him for a secret that, if Namjoon were to catch, the two of you would be screwed. Well, maybe not you, but boy would you be pissed if you couldn’t get this fucking thing out of you. And you kinda sorta liked Seokjin enough that you really didn’t want to see him without a head.

“That is a concern for later, Joon. You can’t learn when you’re getting a fever from lack of food.”

It was almost cute how Namjoon pouted at the rejection. It was kind of cute how he wanted to be the one to be by your side always if it wasn’t for the fact that you were a strong independent woman who---

Who were you kidding, it was hella cute. You felt like a romance novel heroine living up the dream with her hot vampiric mate.

Well, if it weren’t for the fact that you weren’t the least bit the heroine that anyone would write about.

“Besides, she’ll be fine. She’s surprisingly durable for a human.”

Namjoon scoffed. “You hadn’t seen her the first time.”

“I can imagine based on the state of the second time.”

“Hey.” You waved your hands in the air like an idiot, smacking Seokjin extra if only because you couldn’t do the same to Namjoon. “I’m still here guys.”

Seokjin only chuckled. “For now. Make another mistake and you might not be. You have to be more careful.”

“Yeah yeah.” You groaned, even though everyone in the room could fully tell that you had absolutely no intention of doing just that as long as Namjoon’s life was on the line. Well, Seokjin especially—what with the time for your plan coming quicker than either of you were properly prepared for.

“So are you going to feed or what?” Yoongi snapped, causing you to hide a burst of laughter behind your hand.

Namjoon glared at the elder. “If you carry me. I am not about to expose her to that.”

So you become a toddler when you are bed-ridden and can’t move.

“I heard that.” He snapped.

“You were meant to.” You chuckled, sticking out your tongue until Seokjin tested your reflexes by slapping his hand against your knee, causing you to let out a quick yelp that had everyone in the room laughing.

~.~

He was basking in the afterglow of his meal, and despite the fact that he probably just killed a human, you couldn’t help the smile on your face. He looked the healthiest he’d been in days; it was amazing what the required nutrients could do to a being.

“Shouldn’t you be scared?” He murmured as you wiped a rag down his face to clean up the blood splattered there. It wasn’t his, that much you knew.

“Probably.” You murmured, tilting his head to the side to gain access to his neck. Somehow he even managed to get it along his collar bones. There was a big part of you that knew you should have thought about the person behind the blood, the person whose fear made this vampire so healthy—the person who’s life had to end for his to continue. But, with no body and your worry otherwise focused on Namjoon’s healing, you felt more like a mother cleaning up a toddler who just shoved their face in chocolate cake. “But there are sacrifices for everything, aren’t there?”

“There are. But am I worth those human lives?”

You wanted to tell him yes, to say that he was far more important than any of those lives—but that was selfish of you and that was your heart talking over your mind. So instead, you remained silent and let the quiet in the air force you to choose your words carefully.

“Did you…did you kill them?”

“I did today.” He murmured, refusing to meet your gaze. “Does that upset you?”

You dried his face with the clean cloth, shrugging. “Not as much as it should. From what I understand, you’re a picky eater.” And it was the honest truth; you were surprisingly okay for it for someone who literally puked the last time she even thought about a dead body.

He snorted, his eyes glued somewhere towards the wall. “I don’t usually.” He whispered, almost as if he was afraid of your answer. “I don’t usually kill them—humans at least. Hunters are different, but the ones that are brought in from the enclaves I don’t like to destroy.”

“You have to keep them around as a food source. Right?”

He shook his head. “No. It’s not that. I just feel…they were left behind by their own people. They were sacrificed for their own kind—it’s not right to me to take what little they have left from them.”

“You pity them?”

“I suppose I do.”

You sat back on your heels, staring at the side of his face if only because he wouldn’t meet you head on. It was one of the rare occasions where it appeared that the most fearsome clan leader in all of the continent seemed afraid himself.

It was quiet, if only because you knew he had more to say—more to get off his chest. So you waited until he turned to face you, to ask you the question burning at the back of his throat.

“Do you hate me for it?”

“For killing?”

He nodded and you couldn’t help but let out a soft chuckle. “I have never seen you like this before. What made you show this side of yourself to me?”

“You make me question my entire existence Y/N. I don’t know humans; I don’t understand how they think. I prefer your smile to your face when it lets loose water—“

“When I cry.” You murmured stupidly.

“When you cry, yes. I dread your fear more for your sake than my own.  When I picked you up off the street so long ago and brought you back here, I thought I could handle it if you despised me. But now, I don’t think that I could.”

It took your breath away, how honest he was. He was always honest, albeit grumpy and sometimes irritating. But he could say these things to your face; he never hid his feelings from you—his thoughts and his worries. That was more than you could have said for yourself. How did you come to deserve someone like him when you were so….flawed?

“I don’t hate you for being what you are. I’m not afraid of you for killing.” You rolled your tongue along your teeth, trying to find the right words in the hodgepodge whirlwind running through your mind. “I mean, I don’t want to see you feed. I don’t want to watch you kill because I have the spine of a coward and I would probably be afraid in that moment. But of you? Never. Not anymore. Despite what you are, Kim Namjoon you are my…. My….”

“Mate?” He whispered, his eyes searching your face as if it had the answers to questions he had yet to ask.

You shook your head. “Despite what you are, Kim Namjoon, I am yours.”

You couldn’t say he was yours, you didn’t own him. He was the leader of a clan; he was the property of many peoples. He couldn’t give you all of himself like you could give to him. He couldn’t give you the love you wanted, but you could give him yours. It was the truth, a double edged sword that both healed and hurt you at the same time. But that was what it was like to love someone like Kim Namjoon.

And if that was the most you could have then you would run with it until the end of the world.

He cocked his head at you, still trying to decipher the meaning behind your stance. “You told me you were not property.”

You let your shoulders slump, a horrible groan ripping from your throat as you fought back the redness of your ears with every fiber of your being. “For the love of God, you are the densest fucking vampire ever.”

“I don’t understand.”

You snorted. “I know, but that’s okay for now. For now, you have to get better so you can get that pea brain of yours working properly.”

“Hey!”

You laughed, enjoying the way that your laughter enticed his own.

~.~

“Namjoon?” You murmured to the quiet of the room, carefully watching the even rise and falls of his chest. “You awake?”

It was a whisper, but you knew, if he were conscious, he would hear it. Recovery had been hard on him; it was a slow process that took time and effort. But, you felt that he was just now beginning to get to a place where you could be positive that he would be fine. You needed him to be fine before you did this. You needed him to be fine but immobile—because then he couldn’t stop you. This was prime timing for what you were about to do, for the crazy decision your idiot ass was about to make. You knew if you didn’t gun for it now, you would never get a chance like this again.

When he didn’t respond, you slowly, ever so slowly, shifted towards the edge of bed.

Carefully, watching his every waking breath and move, you peeled yourself from the bed without so much as a squeak from the loudest mattress springs on planet earth.

Padding to the door like a kid trying not to wake their mom after curfew, you gave him one last parting glance over your shoulder. “I’ll be back.” You nodded to him as if he could actually hear you--as if that could still the rapid thumping of your heart in your chest. You swore you could feel the beat in your throat.

It was a lie that you wanted to believe. You didn’t know if you’d be back, you didn’t know what was going to happen in the span of a few hours. Maybe you wouldn��t be, but you had to have hope if you wanted your feet to move out into that hallway.

With the door closed gingerly behind you, you took a moment to stare at the wood. It was imperative that you gained your resolve once more before continuing onward.

This was for him; this was to prevent incidents like this. You didn’t want to be to blame if they humans came again, you didn’t want to be the cause of his death. You were absolutely positive that you wouldn’t be able to handle it all a second time.

Seokjin was already standing outside the door, quietly waiting for you to meet his gaze. You could feel the heat of him by your side. Patient but ready.

You were thankful for him now more than ever.

Without a word, you nodded to him and the two of you set off outside.

~.~

You busied yourself by playing with the scalpel on the table next to you instead of focusing on the bright ring lights, on the metal table under your ass and the button up shirt you wore for easier access to your chest. You tried to not think about the fact that soon your organs would be exposed to the air in the shed--hat soon you would be either dead or better for it. But, well, that pretending was becoming increasingly harder to do.

“You did a real good job cleaning this place up, Jin.”

“I can taste your fear, Y/N. There’s no point in hiding it now.” He murmured, his back turned to you as he thoroughly scrubbed at his hands. “But thank you. I had to make sure it would be a proper place to do this.”

“You even fixed the floorboards—I didn’t figure you one for carpentry.”

He chuckled. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

“I suppose.” You could see yourself in the polished metal, how haggard your face was, how your expressions belittled your resolve. “If I really start to get afraid, you won’t kill me, right?” It was a horrible squeak that made you hate your rabbit tendencies all the more.

“I won’t. I have far more restraint at a mere human’s fear.” He chuckled. “Yours included.”

“That’s the first time that ‘mere human’ feels like a comforting phrase coming from a vampire.”

He shot you a glance over his shoulder, his eyebrows knitting together. “We don’t have to do this now, Y/N. We don’t have to do this at all. There are other options—other—“

“No.” You shook your head, setting the scalpel down as Seokjin grabbed a pair of latex gloves he had set by the sink. “We’ve come too far and done too much. We’re doing this.”

“Are you sure?”

“100%” You smiled, though it felt more grimace than smile. It seemed to work for Seokjin, if only because you bet he knew by know that you were stubborn and scared and jumped into things head-on without thinking. If you decided that this was what you were going to do, then he had no power to stop you.

He started towards you, towards the little table he’d procured for his medical supplies. His fingers ghosted over the anesthetic he chose—an oral one, since the last thing he needed was further fear attracting others to you. Needles were a hard pass in a compound full of vampires who could taste fear in the air.

He lifted the prepared cup, handing it over to you.

You, for your part, were surprisingly calm as you started down at the liquid—translucent red, like a punch or a fruity drink. It most definitely was not, but one could pretend.

“Don’t make this be the last time I see your face, okay?” Your voice was weak despite the smile in your statement. “And Namjoon…if he—“

“You’re coming back, Y/N.” Seokjin murmured. “I won’t let you die on this table.”

“I know.” You smiled, heaving out the deepest of sighs from your chest. “I think I just wanted to hear you say it.” You swallowed your own spit, raising your little plastic cup to the air. “Cheers.”

And then it was sliding down your throat, calm and cool and oh-so-fucking terrible tasting. It was like they tried to flavor it with cherry to make it easier but artificial cherry tasted like shit. You remembered when you were seven and your mom bought a bag of cherries from the grocery store to try. You remembered her laugh at your face as you realized the medicine you grew up on was a huge lie to the reality of the sweet fruit.

You didn’t know why you were remembering her now.

You wondered if she still thought of you. If you died, would she ever know?

“It’ll take a few minutes to sink in.” Seokjin murmured, his hands gently pushing you back onto the table. “So relax.”

“Okay.” You whispered more to yourself than to him, shaking off the bitter taste in the back of your throat. “Okay.”

It was silent for a moment. That one quick moment of peace. It was refreshing; it was the calm before a shitstorm large enough to tear you in two.

In the span of a few seconds, the table you were on was suddenly knocked over, sending you careening to the floor in a pile of limbs and confusion. In your out-of-body experience, you could hear Seokjin shouting something that you couldn’t make out. You had to squint to even see him past the sudden, blaring reality that you were on the ground.

Apparently, his shouting was directing you to “for the love of god move!” considering he was landing a punch on a freshly teleported Freckles.

It was horrible and gut-wrenching to know that the reason your head was fuzzy was the due to the anesthetic you could still feel coating your throat and that you had about five minutes before you would be gone to the world.

In the chaos and the crushing realization that you would be of zero help, you found that you couldn’t even make a noise.

“J-Jin!” Your voice was soft to your own disoriented ears as you struggled to your feet. “Jin!” It, unfortunately, wasn’t getting any louder with your increased effort.

“Get out of here, Y/N!”

You frowned, brow furrowed as you took one step, then two lurching ones towards the door—you had to get help. You had to do something for Seokjin, somehow—you had to get someone better than the ticking time bomb that was you.

However, your efforts were thwarted almost instantly by the arm that looped around your waist, yanking you back into the enemy vampire’s chest.

“Oh no you don’t.” Theulgiestvampireever hissed.

You thrashed as much as you could, but your body felt five times heavier than it should have and your attempts amounted to absolutely nothing.

With a forceful kick, Freckles knocked Seokjin backwards and to the ground, blood dripping down both of their foreheads. Seokjin looked up at you through the leaking injury running past his eye, his hand enclosing around your ankle in one last, desperate effort to save you.

“Y/N!”

You couldn’t see Freckles’ evil grin, or the look on his face or the way his leg lifted to deliver a final crushing blow. But you did hear his chuckle next to your ear; you did hear the snap of bone as his heel crashed down onto Seokjin’s hand. You didn’t miss the way Seokjin’s head snapped back dangerously when met by the force of Freckle’s knee.

You screamed even though no sound came out.

I’m sorry Namjoon. You thought before reality shifted around you, breaking you into that nauseating place between worlds. The moment, thankfully, only lasted a few long seconds before you were launched into a heap outside of the fencing of Namjoon’s compound.

You gasped for breath, trying to help yourself to your feet to no avail. Your body was now too heavy for you to move it of your own accord and, when you tilted your head to the night sky, you realized that you couldn’t even feel the asphalt digging into the skin of your palms.

The world blurred around you, despite every effort to keep it in focus.

“Now who’s pathetic?” You hated the sound of his voice, hated that it haunted your nightmares and made you fear for Namjoon’s life. He bent down to your form to pick you up as if you were empty, as if you were nothing more than a slightly weighted bag to sling over his shoulder.

“You ready to meet a god, Y/N?” Jisung chuckled.

You grasped for anything to keep you tethered to your surroundings, fists weakly hitting his back. But, it was useless. It was all so useless. Before you could stop it, you were tumbling into unconsciousness.

~.~

When you finally came to, you had a pounding headache and found that were suddenly unable to move at all.

Well, for one, it was hard to move when your body was still stiff from however long you were out cold. Secondly, it really didn’t help that your arms were twisted behind you and bound by zip ties so tight you felt them cutting off circulation. Your legs didn’t fare any better, considering they were each bound to the front legs of the hard, metal chair you found yourself on.

With a groan to the ceiling, you tilted your head to scan your surroundings and get a better grasp of the reality of the situation you were in. If it weren’t for the fact that your brain wasn’t fully awake, you probably would have split in half from the force of your fear.

The room you were in was dilapidated and fading, however, you came to the conclusion that it was once used for education. Desks were piled in a corner, a broken chalkboard littering the floor to your left with bits of crushed chalk and dust. However, the second you fully awoke, you found that you couldn’t get a good look at much else because your attention was immediately drawn to the table set up next to you. Sitting atop of it was a laptop screen, plugged in via extension cord and a surprisingly quiet generator. Jisung sat smugly next to the laptop, lips twisted in a grin that would put nightmare shadows to shame.

But you were too glued to the sight of Namjoon’s face in the video feed provided by the laptop to care about much else.

He was sitting upright in his bedroom. He must be at the vanity. You thought, stupidly.

He, for obvious reasons, was not as happy to see your face as you were to see his.

“Ah! See that Joonie? Looks like she’s coming to.” Jisung chuckled, hopping off of the desk to take slow, predatory strides towards you. You briefly wondered just how long he had been sitting there, watching you and babbling nonsense to Namjoon.

You were still too groggy to feel too much fear at the action. Rather, you met Namjoon’s gaze through the screen and grimaced.

“Shit.” Was the first, creative, intelligent, and breathtaking thing to come out of your mouth.

“Shit indeed.” Jisung laughed, like a fucking clown from a horror movie you once watched with your best friend back behind the walls of the human world. Before you could react, Jisung’s hand was in your hair, yanking your head back to expose your throat to the coolness of the room.

“Let go of her.” Namjoon growled; the sound was low and scary even to your half-conscious brain. You could see the muscles in his arm flex, his lip curled in a snarl. It would have been attractive were you not in a predicament that had you wanting to shit your pants.

Jisung inhaled, and, even from your awkward angle, you could see the way his eyes glinted with a fresh feed. “Her fear is so fucking good.”

You quickly gathered that this was all just a pissing contest, a power move to bring Namjoon down.  All you would ever be was a pawn, a toy to lure him out. Granted, you, on your own weren’t worth much, but it still sickened you to know that it was about all you would be good for. Vampire or human, it didn’t matter. They just wanted you to kill him—and by gods if you were just going to let it happen.

“Let’s play that game we talked about while she was sleeping, okay Joonie?” The nickname sounded absolutely disgusting coming from Jisung’s mouth. If you could, you would have slapped him yourself (and probably instantly regretted it, but you were always more of a do now think later kind of girl).

“Don’t you fucking dare.”

“What game?” You whispered, your breath hitching as Jisung let go of you far too violently for your own taste, travelling somewhere just behind you. You hated how his eyes glowed from your fear once more, your body shivering at the sudden awareness of the temperature of the room around you.  “Namjoon—what game?” You looked to him for guidance, but his eyes were cold and rimmed with dark circles. How long was he sitting there, watching you sleep through a screen? “Why are you making him watch this?” You whispered.

Jisung, however, did not have the care for his volume as you did for yours. “Because, dear Y/N, there is no point in torture if it doesn’t rile him up. Pictures would have sufficed but, I am a reaction man. I gotta see his face as it happens, live.” By the time he was finished, the last word were hissed into the shell of your ear. Brought with the enemy vampire, was a blade so big it could have covered your whole face. Jisung twisted it, his gaze never leaving Namjoon’s.

[professional-benaddict]

♥️ Red Heart, White Box ⬜️ ll

A collab between myself and @questionablewritings xx

Mafia AU, boss Tony, pet/plaything +18 Peter, bodyguard Steve, bodyguard Bucky, underground doctor Stephen, gun violence, shootings, GSW, injury, surgery, whump, comfort, body modification, non-con organ donation, 2.6k

Or Tony gets to see Peter when he wakes up after surgery and Bucky discovers something in the underground clinic.

part one - part three - part four

Part ll - The White Box With The Red Handle

Tony, Bucky and Steve were all waiting in the ward-like room in the underground clinic. The walls were not as damp here, but still Tony could hear water dripping somewhere. The sound was borderline annoying and hypnotising. The three gang members had barely spoken, since what was there to be said anyway? They had already thanked the doctor for saving Peter, so all that remained was to wait.

Peter woke up groggy as all get out. He felt loopy, and unconnected to reality as his eyelashes flutter open. It felt like no time has passed since the moment he passed out in the back of the car. But, Peter could tell by the heavy patch against his shoulder and the intense medicine working its way through his system that something had happened. A soft groan fell past his lips as he forced himself more awake, alerting those around that he was conscious. His fingers travelled down his body, feeling the bandage from the bullet wound. But, also another one much lower and on his side. Peter’s eyebrows furrowed, glancing down and removing the covers around him to get a better look. 

“Tony?” Peter called out in weak voice, sounding more scared than he intended. When Peter finally stirred, Tony was up in an instant and pushed Peter to lay back down. 

“Hey, shhh, it’s okay, Daddy’s here.” He said soothingly, leaning down so that his forehead was pressed against Peter’s. He kissed the boy hungrily, taking his breath away for a second. “You’re okay, you’re okay.” He repeated, more to himself than for Peter.

Peter’s panic settled the instant Tony came to his side. He fell back against the makeshift hospital bed, blinking over towards Steve and Bucky. How long had he been out? He was relieved to find out he had lived, but how long would his recovery be? It was Steve who registered the confusion on Peter’s face. The man stood, straightening out his shirt and clearing his throat. 

“Should we get the doctor in here to explain things or? Peter might take the news better if it came from you, sir.” Steve suggested, motioning to the patch on Peter’s side. Peter frowned, once again looking down to inspect the random wound. 

“What happened to my side, Daddy?” Peter asked quietly, sounding so small and fragile with a hint of fear.

“Yeah, get Strange. He wanted to see how Peter’s doing as soon as he woke up.” Tony said, craning his neck to face the bodyguard, but kept his hand in Peter’s curls. Bucky volunteered to go and once he left, Tony looked at Peter and sighed a little. “You started bleeding internally, so the doctor had to stop it, baby. He’ll explain more, but he said you’re okay now. You’re okay, baby.” Tony tried to explain, but his voice was starting to break, so he could not talk much without sounding as pathetic as ever. The boss still had an image to keep up when Steve was still in the room.

Peter frowned, too drugged up to fully understand what Tony was explaining. All he knew was, his lover was close to tears. It broke Peter’s heart. He reached up, arm restricted just slightly by the IV stuck deep in the crook of his inner elbow. 

“I’m okay.” Peter repeated, his tone more solid than Tony’s. “Though, I don’t think I’ll be much use as a distraction anymore.” Peter added with a laugh. He turned towards the door, weary of this doctor that they had been talking about. Steve was pretending to be busy with standing by the door, sturdy and protective while also giving the boss his space. He knew Tony did not like to show a weakness to anyone besides his baby boy.

“Hey!” Tony chuckled tearily, pushing Peter down to lay down, but leaned down himself so that they were still close. “This is just an excuse for me to see you naked all the time. Cause I’ll take care of you, baby, I promise that.” He promised, taking one of the boy’s hands in his and kissing his knuckles sweetly. 

Peter, through the medicines haze, cracked a smile at Tony’s little joke. He shook his head, but felt nothing but happiness upon being affectionate with his boyfriend. A few moments later, Bucky returned with Stephen in tow and the doctor smiled at seeing his patient conscious. The doctor was still in his scrubs from earlier when Peter and the rest had first arrived, but he now also wore a zip up hoodie on top. The underground clinic was not exactly the warmest place, nor very welcoming. But, Stephen does not make money on bedside manners anyway. 

“So, you’re finally up. I’ve heard a lot about you, Peter, although we have never formally met. I’m Stephen Strange.” The doctor introduced himself, but he did not force Peter to shake hands with him. 

“He was the one who saved you, baby.” Tony smiled a little sadly, still kissing at Peter’s hand.

When the doctor came through the door, Pete turned his eyes onto him, shocked. The man was gorgeous, and looked nothing like what Pete expected an underground clinician to look like. The doctor stood tall, with broad shoulders and a focused gaze. He looked like someone who valued efficiency and productivity above all else. In some ways, Tony was the same, just in another field of work. 

“Thank you, sir.” Peter automatically stated, licking at his lips. He squeezed Tony’s hand for comfort and then once again found himself motioning towards his side. “I’m sorry that I caused you guys so much stress.” He added, talking to both Stephen and his medical team, as well as his own mafia family.

“Oh, baby, don’t say such things. It’s our fault we didn’t realise what was going on soon enough. I’m a fucking idiot.” Tony apologised, which he never did. Except for Peter. 

“Okay, I think we should let Peter rest now.” Stephen decided, seeing how emotional the situation was getting and how it was making Peter’s heart rate and blood pressure increase. “Would you guys mind leaving us for a while? I’ll just check how the stitches are holding up.”

Peter wanted to disagree, to correct Tony and let him know that none of this was his fault. It had been Peter who had begged to be brought along. He was tired of waiting back at the warehouse while his Daddy went off and did business. Instead though, Peter only had enough time to brush Tony’s knuckles along his lips and gave him a reassuring smile. 

“Go get me some food?” Peter asked, knowing Tony could use a distraction. “Something with lots of chocolate.” He added, playfully smirking. When asked to leave, Bucky and Steve were quick to pay their respects. They both quietly exited the room, and waited outside the door for their boss to follow.

“So, how you feeling?” Stephen asked once he was alone with Peter and checked the monitors. “You lost quite a lot of blood, so if you feel terrible, that’s why.” The doctor chuckled a little.

Peter grimaced now that his loved ones were out of the room. He felt horrible, but at least he had some pain meds to get him through. Pete tried to sit himself up, groaning in the process. 

“I’ve felt better.” Peter responded truthfully. His side hurt quite a lot, as did his shoulder. “I bled internally?” He then asked, sounding extremely concerned. For a moment, he was finding it hard to remember what could have caused that, but then again, everything after getting shot was rather hazy.

“Yeah, your BP dropped and we found a bleed in your abdomen on the ultrasound. You must have fallen when you first got shot.” Stephen explained, pulling the blankets down to see the bandage on Peter’s left side. He was pleased to still find it white and clean and then looked up to meet the boy’s tired eyes. “So, I went in and stopped the bleed and you should make a full recovery. But, you might want to ask Stark to get you a physical therapist for the shoulder.”

“No, I’ll be all right…” Peter replied automatically, not wanting to cause Tony even more trouble and strain. Getting himself shot was enough. Besides, did not most adults complain of shoulder pain anyway, Peter thought to himself. Straightening up, Stephen raised one brow at his latest patient and watched as he struggled to put up a convincing argument. “That’s- that’s not necessary.”

“If you say so.” Stephen muttered and moved on. “How’s the pain? I can increase your morphine.” 

Once again, Peter argued that he was just fine, but the doctor was not fooled in the slightest. So, he increased the flow of the IV drip regardless, and Peter quickly fell more still. His breathing evened out, indicating relief as the pain eased off, which sent him off into unconsciousness again. With Peter knocked out again and resting, Stephen left the makeshift ward with his hands in his pockets. However, the doctor barely had time to round the corner before he was stopped by someone clearing their throat, a clear indication to halt. 

“Just one question, doc.” Bucky started, and straightened up from where he had been leaning against the wall right outside of the ward. Stephen kept his back turned to the bodyguard, but he did halt and tilt his head slightly to show that he was listening. Further down one of the tunnels in the underground system, some water dripped down to the floor. The sound echoed off the walls in a way that made it hard to pinpoint where the noise actually came from. “Just how does one start bleeding internally from falling?” 

“If you fall hard enough-“ 

“Bull.” Bucky shot back. 

“Look.” Stephen started and turned his head more to see Bucky out of the corner of his eye, but his back was turned still. “You brought the kid in, I saved him. I’m giving him the best morphine I have to keep him comfortable, and I’ll admit I don’t do that with everyone who stumbles in here.” 

“I know you did something.” Bucky accused, but Stephen just scoffed in return and started walking again. 

“Yeah, I saved the kid’s life.” The doctor called out, making his voice echo off of the bare and damp tile walls of the underground clinic. The sound could be intimating to some, along with the rest of the eerie sounds coming from underground, but not to Bucky, and he watched with keen eyes as the doctor walked off. 

An hour later, when Tony and Steve returned with food, Bucky was still stood outside of the ward on patrol like a guard dog. In one hand, Tony had a plastic bag with what looked like one of the Chinese takeaway places in town that Peter likes. From the top of the bag, Bucky could also see a Ben and Jerry’s brownie ice cream pint peaking through. In his other hand, Tony had his own suit jacket, which still had some blood stains on it. Peter’s blood. The sight made Bucky take a leap and get Tony’s attention. He had to say something about Strange. 

“Boss, I don’t think-“ 

“Buck.” It was Steve who stopped him, while Tony breezed past them and onto the ward to see Peter, as if nothing mattered but his boy. And in many ways that was the truth. “He’s not like himself.” Steve whispered to Bucky, glancing over at their boss. But, Bucky would not back down, not when his gut was telling him something was seriously wrong. 

“We have to get out of here.” 

“What-“

“It’s Strange. I don’t trust him.” 

“Well, neither do I, but all that matters is that he takes care of Peter till he is back on his feet.” Steve argued back, keeping his voice down to prevent Tony, and Peter for that matter, from hearing their conversation. 

“Steve, I think he did something. To Peter.” Bucky specified, but at the same time left it hanging. After all, he was not sure what exactly the doctor had done, but it was something. Sure, this place was eerie, but the most concerning was the doctor, But, Steve did not seem to agree. 

“Yeah, he saved Peter’s life. He needs to stay here. We can’t take him to the hospital, but he can’t go home yet either. Just a few days, all right?” Steve reasoned, and gave Bucky that smile that could put anyone at ease. Usually, it worked on Bucky, but not this time. While Steve left to follow Tony into the ward, the dark haired bodyguard was left with his gut feeling and overwhelming urge to do something despite Steve telling him to not go after it. However, it was implicit, and not an order from the boss himself, so technically there was nothing stopping Bucky from doing something. 

But, what to do? The underground clinic seemed to be an abandoned tube station. The clinic itself was luke warm and clean, but now and then one could feel a cold breeze coming from one of the darker tunnels. The room that the mafia family of four had arrived in the night before was to the left of the ward where Bucky still was. That was where the makeshift OR was as well, hidden and protected by plastic. The plastic covers were not transparent, but one could make out silhouettes from behind it. To the right of the ward was what Bucky guessed to be a supply closet. If he recalled correctly, it was where the two other medical professionals had come from to assist Stephen for Peter’s surgery. 

A doorknob creaked and Bucky averted his eyes to see a man exit the supply closet. The man, who he guessed to be Mordo, spared him a quick glance before looking at his phone and hurried to the main room of the clinic where Stephen had gone earlier. At the realisation of an excellent opportunity, Bucky crossed the hallway to the supply closet and cracked the door open. Checking that no one was inside, the bodyguard slipped inside. 

At first glance, Bucky realised that the room was not just a supply closet, but also some sort of lab. There were two fridges in the far corner of the room, and to the left there was one freezer. Up against the wall on the right, there were tall and warehouse-like shelves for what looked like sterile packages. Masks, gowns, gloves, caps and loads more that Bucky could not identify. Was it even possible to get so much stuff on the black market? Surely hospitals kept strict record of supplies, which would make stealing nearly impossible, at least in such big quantities. 

On the adjacent wall to the supplies, there was a long table with vials of what Bucky guessed was blood. At closer inspection, Bucky actually found a vial with Peter’s blood. The date on the label also matched when they had arrived the night before. Moving on from the lab stuff, Bucky’s eyes shifted to the fridges and freezer. Perhaps there was more there. Opening the first fridge, Bucky found a large variety of medication in clear bottles. Looking at the labels, the bodyguard found five bottles of morphine, and he scoffed as he remembered how the doctor had said how sparsely he uses the pain reliving drug. 

When Bucky moved onto the second fridge, he expected more medication, but paused as his eyes fell upon six white boxes on two different shelves in the fridge. Each box had a red handle at the top and a label on the side. Bucky tasted bile in his mouth when he realised what the boxes where. Organ transport boxes. 

Tag list: @buckettbarnes​ @prettyboy-parker​ @starkerplusstrange​ @sugar-and-spice-parker​ @xsmallplum​ @starkerdreams​ @mynerdrage​ @kyattogaaru​ @im-a-slut-for-alucards-belt​ @sxdnxy-jxhnsxn @suddenlyhotimsuddenlycool @everyonelovespetey​ @ironspiidey​ @gipumar    

[justanotherlifeff]

Levi Ackerman × reader

Genre: Angst, Hurt/comfort, Fluff, matured themes, slowburn

Warning: There's mentions and descriptions of underage rape and suicidal themes and self harm. DETAILED SMUT IN THIS CHAPTER

(Y/N) POV

It has been a few weeks. Hanji experimented with Eren and pushed him too far which got his face torn off. I have been going to Levi's room every night and he had been teaching me new things about sex. Things he liked to do resembled some things from my past but this time, I enjoyed it because I trusted him and he didn't force me into anything. Last night, he tied me up, gagged me and spanked me because I messed up during our training session about using knives. Yes, he had been training me how to use knives so that I can protect myself with just a pocket knife. I accidentally let him cut me on my hand during our session last day because I was feeling dizzy out of nowhere. I got up this morning and washed my face in Levi's bathroom. He got up as I was wearing my nightgown.

"You look good with those hickeys" he complimented with a smirk. I rolled my eyes at that and went back to my room when I was done dressing. I wore a shirt and a skirt that I owned before joining the survey corps. I went down to make breakfast as usual. No one was awake yet except Levi and myself. I started making tea and peeling some potatoes. Levi came downstairs when the tea was done. I poured some for him and myself. The potatoes were still being steamed when Mikasa, Eren and Armin came down. Eren said "Sasha will be really happy this morning too" with a chuckle when he smelled the steamed potatoes. I've been making steamed potatoes for breakfast for a few days "Well, potato girl deserves some good days" I replied as I was drinking my tea and observing the potatoes.

I listened to Mikasa that day and started trying to care about everyone's feelings and so far, I've been doing pretty well. I even made peace with Jean after apologising for my outburst that day. Surprisingly, he apologised for being too pushy too. Jean, Sasha and Connie came downstairs as Levi went upstairs to get done with some paperwork and when the potatoes were cooked. Sasha looked really happy again and gave me a hug, again which I didn't return, again. "He cut you again didn't he? Why do you give that shorty so many chances to hurt you?" Jean scoffed from the table. Even if he apologised the other day, he still didn't change his mind about Levi. "Well, I'm training myself for the worst situations that I could come across. It's just a small cut." I replied monotonously.

"Hey (Y/N), are you imitating Mikasa?" Eren chimed in. "Why do you think that?" I asked him with a straight face. "You keep wearing a scarf like her all the time" he added. "Well, does it matter if I am imitating her?" I asked him, my expression clearly telling him to drop the topic. I, of course didn't want anyone to try to get my scarf off and see the hickeys that Levi left on me. Thus, intimidating Eren was the only option. "Okay okay calm down! " he muttered to me as I looked away. I ate a steamed potato and went off to my room to take a book.

Suddenly nausea hit me and I had to run to my attached bathroom. This had been happening for a few days but I just assumed that it could be because of food poisoning. After all, Mikasa cooked dinner the other day and it tasted like horse shit. Everything tasted like horse shit after that. Except tea and steamed potatoes ofcourse. That's why I've been making those for breakfast. This puking every morning was getting out of control so I decided to go to Hanji for medicines after I was done reading the book. It was almost evening when I was done reading and I went to Hanji's room which was downstairs. I didn't have to knock as the door was already open.

"Hanji, I need medicine for food poisoning." I said as I walked up to her. She was looking at some files on her table. "Food poisoning? When did you get that? The food supply we get are of good quality." she said curiously. "Well, Mikasa's cooking skills are so good that it made my stomach upset" I told her sarcastically. "But her cooking was pretty good." Hanji said in a matter of fact tone. "You can't be serious. It tasted like horse shit" I told her with wide eyes. "(Y/N), could you elaborate on the symptoms you are having?" Hanji said to me in a serious tone. "Well, I'm puking every morning, everything tastes like shit except tea and steamed potatoes." I stated. Hanji was already noting everything down on a notebook.

"When did you have your periods?" she asked. "Well, it was... last month..." I trailed off. I was late for periods by about one and half week. My periods were never irregular. "When are you supposed to have periods this month?" Hanji asked. "I was supposed to have it a bit more than a week back." I answered. I didn't like where things were going. "Do you usually have irregular periods?" she asked. "No." I answered. I was praying that what I was thinking is wrong.

"Did Levi forget to pull out?" she asked. "Huh? What? " I got jerked back into reality by that. "Relax (Y/N). I figured it out. Levi never calls you 'brat', he actually gives you private self defence lessons, I noticed that he talks to you a lot, you never seem to complain about him like normal people and I got upstairs the other night to borrow a book and didn't find you in your room and you were pretty loud in Levi's room and I could hear you from the hallway upstairs." she explained as I gaped at her. I remembered that day. It basically was the only day when I was actually loud.

One week ago:

I found him sitting by his desk when I entered his room. He noticed me enter and motioned me to go to his bed. I did what he said and sat on the bed. He came to me a few minutes later after arranging the paperwork he was working on. "I taught you everything about the type of sex I like except one. I can't teach you this one because this is something you need to be okay with and learn to enjoy it yourself." he said. "What is it?" I asked with excitement. Everything he taught me so far, including bondage, enjoying any sort of pain he inflicted on me by spanking or slapping or using sex toys, etc, I found them quiet enjoyable.

"What’s your view on roleplaying? I kinda wanted to try that..." with that he explained everything about it to me. I didn't know if this would turn me on or not. "You mean you'll treat me like a cheap whore in bed?" I asked him calmly. "Yes" he answered. "So, you'll treat me like what I was. Even you see me like that don't you?" I barely whispered. I felt betrayed because I trusted that he would treat me right. I never expected this of him. "(Y/N), this is just for sex. When we are done, I'll be back to just Levi. And I'll not do any of these if you don't want me to. If you want, we can keep things as it is now. At the end, everything depends on your decision." he told me as he pulled me into a hug.

"Just, think about it. I think you need to try it out first before making a decision. I'll do it only if you allow me to." he said. I thought hard about it. I remembered that he asked me to trust him and decided to do that. "Let's try it out" I answered with a smile. He didn't waste any time and smashed his mouth onto mine. He fingered me till I almost had an orgasm and then he removed the finger and just walked back to his desk and started working. "Why did you stop?" I whined and he didn't even look at me and said, "Quit whining, brat. Convince me to waste my time on you instead and make yourself useful." "How do I do that, Levi?" I asked him. "It's Heichou to you, brat. Get under the desk and suck me off. I wont be helping you next time." He said monotonously as I did exactly what he asked me to do.

I got him hard pretty fast but that didn't make him budge from his position. After what seemed like an eternity of me sucking his dick, he pulled my hair roughly to remove my head from his dick. "Do you want this dick in you?" he asked. "Yes Heichou." I said eagerly without any hesitation. He removed his hand from my hair and said, "Beg for it". I didn't know what to do so I simply muttered, " I want you Heichou. Please". That got me a slap across my face. "You have too much damn dignity for a whore. Ask properly" he said giving me a look of disapproval. "Please have me Heichou" I tried again. This time, he stared at me for a while and commanded me to go to the bed and lay down.

I did what he said as he got some genital clamps from a drawer on his desk. He used them on my clit and two nipples and said, "If you can't get it right in three chances, you'll go back to your room without getting an orgasm. I'll pull one off you as punishment if you get it wrong." he said. I thought hard and whispered, "Heichou, please fuck me". "Close but, first, I barely heard what you said. That means you don't want it enough. Second, who are you?" he said as he pulled the clamp stuck to my clit roughly making me yelp loudly. He then massaged my clit slowly which reduced the pain and gave me volts of pleasure.

While doing it, he asked "Who are you?". Instead of saying my name, I figured out what he actually wanted me to say. " I'm a whore" I half moaned out. "I can't hear you. Say it loudly" he said as he gave a pinch on my clit which made me shout out "I’m a whore" in a strangled moan. "Good. Whose whore are you?" he asked again while rubbing my clit again. "Yours" I moaned out. "Good. Say, who are you?" he asked me rubbing me harder. "I'm Heichou's whore" I moaned loudly.

"Good girl. That's right. You're my little whore. Now beg me properly" he said with a smirk. "Heichou, please fuck your little whore" I gasped. At that, he pulled the clamp from my right breast and said, "Louder" angrily. To this I shouted, "PLEASE FUCK YOUR LITTLE WHORE, HEICHOUUUUU". He unbuckled his pants and smashed into me before I could finish. And, as he promised, he let me orgasm and made me swallow his cum instead of just spilling it over me. When he was done, he pulled me in a hug and asked, " How did you feel?". "I think we will be doing this a lot in future" I murmured before passing out on his chest.

"Does anyone else know?" I asked her panicking. "Nope. I don't think anyone else will go upstairs at 12 am to knock at your door for a book. They still are scared of you even if you're trying to be nice to them" she chuckled. "He did forget to pull out once... That was weeks ago..." I muttered. To that, she took a small packet from her drawer and opened it and gave me a small weird looking strip of paper that had plastic and some symbols around it.

"Find a cup and pee in it and dip the area of the strip with the small arrow sign on it. You will find some lines form on the middle of the strip. Bring it to me when you're done. I took it, did exactly what she said and brought it to her. I held it in front of her, she looked at the two lines that had appeared on the strip and said, "(Y/N), you're pregnant."

Before I could react to this statement, I heard Connie's surprised voice asking Hanji, "(Y/N) is pregnant?!". My legs gave out and I sat on the ground. This can't be happening. This has to be a bad dream. "Yes she is. What is it? Did Nifa come back after giving news about Nick's death to Erwin?" Hanji asked Connie.

"Yes she came back with a letter. Levi Heichou wants everyone in the dining room." he reported to Hanji before looking at me and asking, "Who's the father?". I didn't look at him and muttered, " I can't say...". I felt tears suddenly flow out of my eyes as I croaked out, "this isn't real. This is a bad dream...". Hanji and Connie looked at me sympathetically and Hanji said, "I'm afraid it is real. I promise I'll help you go through this". "Thanks Hanji". I muttered to her and looked back at Connie and told him, "No one can know about this. Promise me.". "I swear no one will know a thing! I'll help you in any way I can too!" Connie told me nervously.

Hanji helped me up as we went for the dining room. Everyone was standing there as Nifa mentioned how hard it was for her to reach Uncle Erwin as the military police was guarding his hospital room. When she somehow reached and gave Uncle Erwin the news about Nick, Uncle Erwin sent her off with a letter. He was arrested just after that and all of the regiment scouts are on a ban. The military police wouldn't take the ban off until we give up Eren and Historia.

Levi commanded us to gear up and leave the safe house immediately. We did so and then the military police came to raid the place just a while later. "We need to go to a safe place that Erwin mentioned in his letter. We will use our 3D manoeuvre gears for our plan to work. We will hide it with our cloaks. Eren and Historia will have body doubles and the real Eren and Historia will be on a cart, that Erwin has specifically mentioned to rent, away from us." Levi explained us the plan as Hanji interjected by saying, "We need to take some other things into consideration. It's about (Y/N). She's..." I stopped her before she broke the news and said, "It's nothing important Hanji. I can fight with a bit of food poisoning".

Hanji looked at me with caution and let it slide. "Alright, I'll get to Erwin with Moblet. The rest of you, follow Levi." Hanji commanded as she got on her horse. "Wait!" Eren shouted at Hanji before giving her a piece of paper where he wrote about a conversation he remembered from Reiner and Ymir back when he was kidnapped. With that, she left. We rode to Trost that night while I was trying to figure out if I made the right decision by not letting Levi know that his child was growing inside me.

It was afternoon when we reached Trost. A cart was rented from the place Uncle Erwin mentioned and Eren and Historia were in it. Jean and Armin were doubling as Eren and Historia. I didn't get any sleep last night and I was hungry because stopping to buy food would raise suspicions. I felt weak, dizzy and nauseatic but I tried to not let it show. Sasha took out a bread from her bag and started eating it. "You have food in your bag Sasha?" Connie exclaimed. "Yes. I brought some bread. I can't spend so much time without food" she said as she took a bite of the bread".

"Oi Sasha, give that bread to (Y/N)." Connie told her in a pleading voice. "Huh? Why? I'm not giving my food to anyone!" she exclaimed. "Trust me on this Sasha. You'll regret not giving it later. Please" Connie pleaded for me. I looked at Sasha with pleading eyes too because I knew the baby needed it. Acting like that made me feel strange because I never pleaded anyone for sake of someone else. Sasha took my look seriously and handed me her bread. "Thanks" I murmured.

Eating the bread made me feel less weak but more nauseatic. I got close to Connie and told him, "Connie, I gotta puke. Cover for me." "Okay wait." he replied as he went to Levi and talked to him about something. Levi gave me a brief look and answered to him and he came back with a smile. "I told him that we need washroom breaks. He allowed us to go." Connie said. "Okay." I replied shortly because I felt bile flowing up my throat. We hurried to a narrow alley where I threw up while Connie held my hair so that I wont have puke all over it. When I was done, he gave me some water from his flask to wash my mouth. "I don't know how to repay you for all the help. Thank you Connie." I told him earnestly.

"You don't have to repay me (Y/N)! You're like our big sister!" Connie told me with a smile. I smiled back at him, remembering the advice Mikasa gave me weeks back. She was right. Having people to care about you is really nice. I felt slightly better both physically and emotionally than before as we returned to the group. Suddenly, Levi shouted at us to move from the road and a cart rushed at us and picked Jean and Armin up and left. Plan B was put in motion now.

"Mikasa, (Y/N), go after them and see how things are going so far. We need to buy some time for Eren and Historia to get away and we need to ensure their disguises aren't discovered" Levi commanded us and we used our 3DMG to follow them. I noticed that all the movement made me dizzy but I tried my best to focus. They reached a warehouse and took Jean and Armin inside. We looked through the window and after a while, a guy started to touch Armin thinking that’s Historia. "We need to inform this to Heichou. Their disguises will be seen through soon at this rate" I told Mikasa and we flew up on a roof where Levi was sitting.

Mikasa briefed him about everything and asked him how his leg is. I didn't talk to him because I was feeling guilty about lying to him. He told Mikasa and me to take action and told me to give a message to everyone.

We reached that building and infiltrated it. Mikasa and I knocked out the guards with single kicks and waited behind the huge boxes in the Warehouse. A few more people got in after a while and Mikasa and I knocked them out too. I took out the leader and two subordinates and Mikasa took out the others. The leader tried to shoot me with a gun which was in his coat buy Sasha shot an arrow at the gun and stopped him. We tied them up and I told everyone, "Now that we are done here, Heichou gave me a message to give you all..."

Levi POV

I was sitting down behind the bar hiding from Kenny. "So, blowing heads off my team is your new hobby?" I asked him. "Hmm. Adults do things that little runts like you won't understand. Oops, my bad, you're so tiny that it's hard to believe you've grown up. You apparently also got yourself a little lady didn't you?" Kenny laughed. They knew. I felt like my heart stop. They will use her to bait me won't they...

"I don't know what you're talking about" I said calmly. "Oh so a certain (Y/N) (L/N) mean nothing to you? I remember hearing that she even started a bar fight over you" Kenny scoffed. He had more information than I thought. Kenny was talking about how I am as bad as him when I turned a bottle of wine to see his reflection. I took the gun that bar owners have for self defence and used that reflection to shoot him. He had a chair so I was sure it didn't hit him.

I used another chair as distraction, killed a man because he made the mistake of getting caught up by the distraction and used his body to shield the bullets the other two men shot at me and killed them both. I flew towards where the cart could be and found it pretty quickly. I had to warn (Y/N) to stay away from the cart or any threat. I could see the others coming towards me and the cart too. I let them know that three of us were already killed and not to hesitate to kill anyone if they get the chance. No one except (Y/N) and Mikasa said "Roger".

"Jean, Armin go get the cart. Mikasa, assist them. (Y/N), stay away from the cart or any threat. You're a target now too." I told (Y/N) as she looked at me with surprise. Suddenly, another military police member got on the cart along with the driver who pointed her gun towards Jean. The other one was going for Armin. (Y/N), just as I anticipated, didn't follow my order and went to save them. She killed the man with his gun pointing at Armin and Armin shot the woman who had her gun pointed at Jean.

Suddenly, I saw (Y/N) sitting down on the cart with her hands clutching her head. More military police caught up with the cart and I pushed Jean out of the cart while Sasha pushed Armin out. Mikasa was supposed to get (Y/N) out but she missed her because she laid down on the cart suddenly becoming unconscious. Mikasa tried to follow then but I had to stop her and myself. Kenny's plan worked perfectly.

We went back to the abandoned building that Erwin instructed us to go to. The people who were trying to kidnap the doubles of Eren and Historia were tied up there. I was furious and worried about (Y/N). I explained Armin that he wasn't wrong by shooting that woman a while ago. We sat in silence for a while before Mikasa broke the silence by saying, "We could've saved them if you had let me go, Levi Heichou..." I looked at her coldly and said, "No you couldn't save them. They were almost at the gate.".

"My friends were there. We could've saved them if you helped me. But ofcourse, you don't care." Mikasa muttered. Loosing Eren again took a toll on her. "Don't just assume shit" I answered to that. "Now that the military police know about things anyway, there's no reason to hide this anymore. (Y/N) and I are in a relationship. So, Mikasa, you're not the only one who lost someone special to you. Now, stop acting like a child and accept the fact that there was nothing we could've done." I told Mikasa glaring at her. For some reason, everyone looked at Jean after I told them about (Y/N) and myself. "Why are you brats looking at him?" I asked them. "No reason!" Jean shouted out nervously.

"Uh, Heichou?" I heard Connie call me. "What is it?" I asked him. "(Y/N) wanted me to keep this a secret but in this situation, I don't think I should given that you told us about her. (Y/N) was pregnant Heichou." he blurted out. I felt like someone punched me in the guts. Hard. My face clearly showed the shock that I was in and everyone looked at me showing different emotions like being shocked that even I can feel things or being sympathetic about the fact that I couldn't protect her. I buried my face in my palms. I couldn't loose her. I had a child now? I wasn't ready for this but I couldn't loose my child too.

This probably was my only chance I had at having a normal life because I could never build up the courage to start a family by myself. Situation had to force me towards it at some point and it was doing that right when (Y/N) wasn't with me. Suddenly I remembered that she had that pocket knife with her. I made her hide it in her panties so that no one would find it if she's searched. I remembered saying Farlan and Isabelle that I trusted them. I remembered how my trust was broken. However, this time... "I trust her. She will make it out of there" I told everyone. I had no other option than to believe in her.

To be continued...

Taglist: @reality-is-often-disappointing, @kingtamakimurder

[tanjhero-a]

Life’s Trials to Meeting You

Pairing: Tanjirou x You (Gender Neutral Reader)

Prompt: Soulmates - Shared Scars 

Word Count: 4,502 (wow!! thats 11 fucking pages on docs yall. my god)

A/N: This is my fic based off the results of the poll! This fic was originally made as a celebration for 60 followers, and since then, this blog now has 130! I’m very thankful and flattered so many of you are here. I hope you all enjoy this rather lengthy fic- I had a lot of fun writing it!

You’ve lived your whole life in moderate peace. You lived in a modest household with several siblings and your father. Life was dull, but it was safe. Your house was in the middle of a small town and you visited the same shops every day and talked to the same people. 

You yearned for more. To travel out of town and meet someone new, do something new, something… exciting. You voiced this want to your sisters, but never your father. He loved you dearly, you knew, which is why he wanted you to live your modest and easy life. There was no danger in that.

But your father was a fool. Danger lurked everywhere, especially where you don’t expect it. It stays there, hiding in the shadows and waiting to strike. And finally, danger did come- in the form of a fierce demon that ate its way through the village in a single night. Your father had you take your sisters and run into the forest for help, making you leave him behind ultimately for his own death. 

Most of your sisters didn’t make it. One of them refused to leave father behind, and another one didn’t stick close to you and got lost in the ruins of your town before she was gobbled up. Your last sister, Tamako, was only three, and she was only safe because you held her so, so tightly in your arms as you kept running far from what used to be your home. 

Eventually, the adrenaline to stay alive wore out and you stumbled your way to a beautiful tree. Your vision was fuzzy as you forced your tired limbs to climb it, your sister holding you close on your back. The purple, beautiful flowers bloomed everywhere around the tree and hid both of you somewhat effectively. “We’ll be safe here,” you assured Tamako and situated her in your lap. “The flowers will keep us safe.” 

You really didn’t know that you were actually incredibly lucky and that the Wisteria tree you hid in warded off demons- you just prayed that the demon was full and wouldn’t kill any more of your family. You held Tamako all night as she cried, and though you felt like crying yourself, you kept the tears at bay. 

You had to be strong now. There was no other way.

---

When you awoke the next morning, it was because of Tamako’s cries. You immediately jolted to see what was wrong, only to wince and cry out in pain. She was crying because of the blood staining your shirt, which happened to be the problem. 

Did you get hurt last night and not even notice?

“It’s okay, Tamako, it’s okay!” It wasn’t, but what else could you say? Your body felt woozy still, probably from blood loss, but you still collected her in your arms. “We’ll be okay. We’ll find the next town and get help and food. Aren’t you hungry?”

The change in subject seemed to calm her down. She sniffles, snot smeared across her face which you wipe off with your sleeve gently. “..yeah.” 

“Me too,” you smile. “Get on my back, Tamako, then I’ll climb down.”

She clings to you tightly as you do so, and your feet slip a few times as you work your way down the trunk. Now that you’re aware of the gash in your side, it burns and screams with each move you make. Your just glad your sister can’t see the pain on your face as you finally make it to the ground with a loud groan.

“Okay, what would you like to eat?” You keep her on your back with your arms wrapped around her tiny legs, walking in a random direction. The first thing you needed to do was find a road, and then you could find a town. 

“Buns!” Tamako yells. “...Fish. Rice.”

“That sounds yummy,” you nod your head. “Maybe we can get something sweet, too.”

“Yeah!” Her legs kick excitedly and you sigh. She’s buzzing with energy so you let her down. 

“Don’t leave my side, Tamako,” you tell her gently and continue to walk forward.

Both of you walk for what seems like hours before you reach a road, and then hours after that before you reach a town. You carry Tamako at various times despite your wound, because she gets tired and you can’t afford to stop moving. You’re lucky you finally saw buildings in the distance when you did because you’re not sure how much longer you can stay conscious. 

You stop in your tracks and slowly sit on the ground. Tamako stands beside you, holding your hand. “Listen to me,” you hold her small fingers tightly as you look into her dark eyes. “I know it’s scary, but I can’t walk any further. I need… I need you to walk the rest of the way by yourself and get help.” 

“What?” Tamako’s lips wobble into a frown. “I can’t!” 

“No, I know you can, Tamako!” You pull her into a tight hug. “It will be okay. You are so strong, I know you can do it. Follow the road, and get help when you see a person. Lead them back to me.” 

Your sister holds you back as tight as she can, her body shaking with small sobs. “Will you be okay?”

“I’ll be fine. I just… need rest.” You kiss her forehead and let Tamako go. “I love you. I know you can do it.”

You squeeze her hand one more time before the little girl scampers off, running with all her might. You sigh once she escapes your view before you lay down. The best thing you can do is try to focus on your breathing, keeping yourself alert and calm as you wait. Everything in your body hurts- your legs, your side, your hands, and arms… You don’t know if you’ll make it, to be honest. 

Your eyes flutter shut as your breathing comes to a slow. It’s too hard to stay awake any longer- could you sleep as you wait for Tamako?

Something, some far off thing deep inside your head says that’s a bad idea, but you’re too far gone to listen to the warning. 

---

When you awake, you’re somewhere completely different. Inside a house, it looks like… Did Tamako get you help?

“You’re awake,” A voice comes from another part of the room, and when you look to your left you see a beautiful woman with a butterfly inspired haori wrapped around her. “Your sister was rather worried, and so was I. Your injury was dire.”

“Tamako…” You try to speak but your throat is hoarse and dry. The woman notices and takes a cup next to your bed. She gently lifts you up enough so you can drink it. It’s tea, you realize, and even though it tastes vile you down it all in one go. You grimace once you’re done and the woman laughs. 

“It’s medicine. It will help you heal, but it doesn’t taste very good.” She lays you back down and places the cup on the stand. “Now, my dear, what happened?”

You sink into the pillows with a frown. “My town… it was attacked by a man-eating monster. I… I was supposed to protect my sisters, but only Tamako and I made it. I must have… gotten hurt, but I can’t remember how.” You don’t want to remember. You don’t want to think back to that night in any capacity. “My sister and I hid in a tree for the night, and then we walked for a really long time before I couldn’t anymore. I had her find help for me…” You look around the room, noticing there are several other beds but none of them have your sister tucked in. “Where is she?”

“This is where we keep our sick and hurt. Tamako only had a few scrapes, so she’s not here. I think she’s playing with the other children.” The woman sits down on the bed next to you, looking sorrowful as she holds her hands. “I’m sorry about your town. We actually have people there now, burying the bodies… I can have someone take you there so you can mourn when you are healed.”

Something about what she said makes you wonder. “Who are you?” You ask. “Who is ‘we’?”

“I forgot I didn’t introduce myself, I’m sorry,” the woman smiles. “I’m Shinobu. I’m a part of a group called Demon Slayers… we do just that. Protect who we can and kill demons.” 

Where were you, then? You can’t help but think. Where were you when my family was murdered?

Shinobu seems to sense your thoughts. She frowns and you think it’s unfair that even when she’s upset, she still looks so beautiful. “I am sorry we couldn’t be there for you when your town was attacked.”

You don’t want to forgive her, her or her group, but you already have. You don’t have it in you to hold a grudge against these people who you don’t even know. “It’s impossible to save everyone,” you whisper. “I know that. At least you are trying to do what you can.”

Shinobu seems grateful for your comment. But then, out of nowhere, she asks you something rather bizarre. “Have you always had that scar on your head?” 

“Oh, that?” You subconsciously reach up and touch it. “Well, it’s kind of a funny story. Originally, it looked a bit different… it just appeared on me one day. And then years later, I get this headache and the scar changed shape.” Your father never liked to talk about your mysterious scar, and no one brought it up in the village. You had almost forgotten about it, honestly.

Shinobu looks at you a bit strangely. You wonder what the problem is before she sighs. “Were you never taught about soulmates?” She asks.

“Soulmates?” The word feels funny on your tongue. What on earth was that? “No… what is it?” 

“Oh dear,” Shinobu says under her breath, frowning a bit. “I’m not the best at explaining it, but everyone has a supposed ‘soulmate’. You know this because of your scars.” She stares at your forehead. “Soulmates are people destined for each other. So, technically saying, that scar isn’t your own. It’s the scar of your soulmate.” Then she looks down at your stomach. “They will probably have quite a scare next time they take off their clothes.”

You realize she’s talking about your scar, now. Quite frankly, your mind is blown. Someone meant for you? Sharing wounds? That seems so… otherworldly. Did your father know about this? Why didn’t he tell you?

You raise your hand to your head again, tenderly touching the red mark there. “Oh…” You look over to the butterfly dressed woman. “Does everyone know about soulmates?”

“It’s fairly common to know about it, I don’t know why you didn’t.” Shinobu nods. “Anyways, I should leave now. You need to rest.”

She leaves quite quickly, leaving you alone in the large room. You’re stunned still but can’t resist the alluring call of rest. Soulmates… It could wait another time.

---

The next two weeks are spent at what you learned is the Butterfly Estate. Shinobu and her team of little doctors help you heal, and they give you goals for each day. Today, you had to walk around the garden, making three laps. It drained you to your core, but Tamako ran circles around you to keep you motivated. 

It was hard not to give up, especially when you thought about what would happen once you were better. You’d have to visit your family’s graves, and then what? You and Tamako no longer had a home. What were you going to do…?

“Come on! Come on! You can do it!” Tamako cheers, shaking you out of your reverie. Well, you were far from being completely better, so those thoughts aren’t important now. 

You can worry about it later. For now, you want to enjoy your time at the estate and have Tamako as happy as she can be.

---

The day to leave has finally come, filling you with dread.

The people at the butterfly estate were so kind and helpful, so loving, that they began to feel like a second family to you and Tamako. You didn’t want to leave them at all, but it had to be done. A new, messy and worrisome chapter has opened in your life and it was time to start it. 

Tamako’s friends, the little nurses, helped pack your bags with anything you would need since you had basically nothing. They gave you food for your journey as well, rice balls and dumplings, making Tamako cheer happily. She played with everyone for one last time as you stood by the gate, watching them run around with sad eyes. 

“You’re welcome to come back,” a voice comes from behind you, and you realize it’s Shinobu. 

“I didn’t think you would be here! Weren’t you on a mission?” You embrace her tightly, glad that you were able to see her before you left. She hugs you back with gentle hands. 

“I finished up quickly. I know you don’t have a place to stay after you visit your family’s graves…” She lets you go with a sigh, looking at your scar again and touching it gently. You noticed that Shinobu lingered on your soulmate mark quite frequently, but you never knew why. “What if you stayed here? I could teach you and Tamako how to use medicine and heal.”

“But- you work with demons. Isn’t it dangerous?” You shake your head. “Tamako and I wouldn’t survive this life. We weren’t made for it.”

“But maybe you are,” Shinobu smiles. “This mark…” She taps the scar with her thumb. “It is a warrior’s mark.”

You have a feeling she knows more than she’s telling you. Shinobu’s always been that way, and it’s frustrating, but you know she’s looking out for you. “I can’t fight,” you tell her. “But… If you help me, I will try. But I won’t put Tamako through it, not for many years.”

Shinobu looks delighted by your answer as she hugs you again. “Wonderful. Then come back home safe.”

...Home. You hold her back, tears in your eyes. “I will.”

---

Once you made it back to the butterfly estate with Tamako, things got better. You trained so you could at least swing a katana and do some damage, though it felt silly since you were ultimately doing all this just to become a nurse. Shinobu pushed you though, telling you that it was better to be prepared and know how to fight than be helpless. You agreed with her, but it didn’t make the training any easier, along with studying medicine and healing techniques.

There was one night where you had trained alone, out in the forest focusing on the breathing techniques that Shinobu taught you and slashing at the trees. It was a quiet, uneventful night before you heard rustling in the distance. You were all alone, but at least you had your katana. You face the noise with a fierce grip on your weapon,  practically shaking in your boots before- wham- you’re shoved to the ground. 

Someone had run right into you, apparently, sending you both flying and rolling in the dirt. When you looked up to see who it was, you were quite surprised to see… a demon.

Your hairs stand on edge as you stare at the female demon and she stares back. Her eyes are a bright pink, her long hair colored red at the ends. And, most surprisingly, a stick of bamboo is tied around her head to cover her mouth. “Are…” Your throat is dry all of a sudden. “Are you okay..?”

You really didn’t know what to do. Your only experience with a demon was the one that killed your family, but you’re getting a whole different vibe from this one. Is that possible? 

The demon’s pink eyes look up at the mark on your forehead, her eyebrows drifting up in surprise. But whatever moment the two of you had ended when another demon comes bustling through, headed straight for you.

Without thinking, you take your sword and slice at the other demon, its arm coming right off. You take a defensive stance in front of the girl, and you don’t really know why. The demon looks outright repulsed that you stopped it, but you can tell it’s inexperienced and dumb by how quickly you managed to cut off its head. 

Suddenly you became hyper aware of your surroundings, and you knew you weren’t alone. There were more of them. Looking back to the girl demon, your eyes soften as you reach out a hand. “You were running away, right?” You ask her. “Come on, let’s go.”

Surprisingly, she takes your hand, and for some reason, she knows exactly where to go. The two of you run together, but she leads, taking you somewhere but you don’t know where. You would ask, but considering how her mouth is busy with bamboo, you decide to trust her.

Why? You really, really don’t know. Maybe you’re stupid.

More demons come, and even though you were told they don’t work together, it seems an awful lot like what they’re doing since they all seem desperate to kill you both. You fight until you’re drained, and then you keep fighting after that because it’s the only thing you can do to stay alive. You’re still inexperienced, though, and you can tell you aren’t breathing right anymore. The battle has overwhelmed and frightened you to your core, and you keep thinking, Why am I here? Why am I doing this? Who is this for?

Another figure, alone this time, jumps from out of nowhere and goes right for your demonic ally. Your body almost naturally intervenes, holding your katana up to the stranger’s neck with a fierce look on your face. You’ve already realized that he’s not a demon, but the girl is, and you can’t have him killing her. “Back off,” you snarl at him.

“Wh- oh-” the boy’s eyes go wide, looking at you in disbelief. “It’s okay. That- that’s my sister,” he stutters, and his eyes never leave you. He’s not even meeting your eyes, he keeps looking at… your forehead.

How did you not notice his own scar before? “Oh,” you mimic, the grip on your katana loosening as you point it to the ground. You look back at the demon behind you, your mind overwhelmed and dizzy. “Your sister…?” 

“Nezuko,” the boy- your soulmate, apparently- calls to her and the girl demon happily returns to his side. “I… Who are you?” He asks. 

“I’m…” You blink rapidly, looking at the ground. God, why was everything so fuzzy? “I’m…” Did you already say that? You look to the boy, concern in his gaze. 

Before you can say or do anything else, the exhaustion from running and fighting your first battle catches up with your body, and you’re falling to the ground as your brain decides to shut off. 

---

Voices are what wake you up. Angry, concerned tones that make you think that maybe people were fighting nearby. Fighting..?

“-can’t believe you got them mixed up in your mess, they aren’t ready-“ 

Was that Shinobu?

“-you knew and you never told me?” 

You didn’t know that voice, that’s for sure, but for some reason, it sent a warm feeling down your spine. 

“-not ready-“

“-not your decision to make-“

When you sit up, you’re hit with a wild headache that pounds your skull. “Gods,” you hiss in pain, and suddenly the fighting that you heard before stops. You blindly reach next to you, knowing there’s a cup of water, medicine, something, waiting for you. Someone hands you what you’re looking for and you murmur thanks as you down what was thankfully just water. 

When you finally blink your eyes open, you see Shinobu first, and a nervous boy lingering behind her. You recognize him but you can’t quite remember… then you look at his familiar mark and remember quite vividly who he is and you stop looking at him. 

Soulmate. 

It’s dead quiet before you muster up the courage to speak. “I’m fine, Shinobu,” you try to reassure her. “I know I’m inexperienced and I shouldn’t be dealing with demons… I know I’m only learning these skills for self defense, but… she needed help.” That’s all you could say.

“For all you knew, she was another demon. She could have torn you apart.” Shinobu says, anger still in her tone but you look up to her in defiance.

“But she didn’t! She… I know it’s weird, but I knew she wouldn’t hurt me.” You touch your chest, over your heart. “I could feel it.” 

Shinobu sighs, turning away from you. You can tell she’s conflicted. “You are still so ignorant.” That’s all she has to say before she leaves the room, leaving only you and your mysterious soulmate inside.

“I suppose I was ignorant. She’s not wrong. There’s still so much I haven’t seen or done…” you speak aloud, slowly working up the courage to look at him. “But I was right, wasn't I?”

The boy smiles at you so softly, making him look so trusting and handsome that your heart feels like it’s going to burst. He sits on the edge of your bed, next to your feet. You notice that his checkered haori is gone and instead he just wears his Slayer Uniform.

“You were,” he nods. “It makes sense why you would feel that way, considering…”

The both of you blush at the acknowledgment. He clears his throat with a laugh before he presents his hand to you. “I’m Tanjirou Kamado.”

It’s rather silly, but you indulge him and shake his hand. It’s firm and calloused, clearly he’s more experienced with a katana than you are. You give him your own name. “Your sister… Nezuko?” Tanjirou nods, slowly letting go of your hand. “How did that happen?” You ask, before quickly skidding to a stop nervously, “only if you want to tell me, of course.”

Tanjirou laughs, and even though you’re embarrassed, you think his laughter is beautiful. “Of course, I’ll tell you anything, ___,” he looks at you so adoringly that you’re sure that your heart really did burst by now.

The two of you spent what felt like minutes but was truly hours together, talking about your lives and tragedies, everything that led up to this. You found that you felt wonderful around Tanjirou, and talking to him was easy and comfortable. Somewhere between the stories, your hands found each other again, and they stayed linked and warm together as you talked. When you explained the demon attack on your village and how you got your scar, his eyes burned with empathy.

If anyone knew what losing your family to demons was like, it was him. Tanjirou was just sorry that you had to witness it with your own eyes- he was lucky enough to only see the aftermath. 

“I always wondered what had happened to you when I saw it on my side. It made me wonder what kind of person you were.” His thumb rubs the top of your hand gently. You can tell by his hesitation that he has something on his mind, but won’t say it. You smile and squeeze his hand.

“I’ve lived with siblings too, you know. I can tell when someone is thinking too much about something.” You try to help him relax with your comparison. Tanjirou chuckles, shoulders relaxing as he looks at you in a shy manner.

“I was just wondering if I could see it. Your scar.”

You understand why he was embarrassed and why he wanted to ask. It’s evidence of your connection. Tanjirou’s scar is so easy to see, but yours is hidden beneath clothes. “It’s okay,” you tell him, sitting up a little straighter against your pillows and finally let go of his hand. You lift up your medical garb just enough that he can see it, the smooth and light skin that covered the side of your stomach and waist. It’s big and ugly, in your opinion.

“It’s really there,” Tanjirou whispers, reaching out and touching the scar gently with his fingertips. “You really don’t remember how you got it?”

“I don’t remember a lot of that night. I think I blacked it out, erased it from my mind. To make things easier,” you whisper and Tanjirou nods in understanding, letting you put your shirt back down. “I wish I could have been like you, Tanjirou. Strong and willpowered, learning how to get revenge on demons and protect the ones I love,” you look down at your hands. They were so small and soft compared to his. “But I’m not a fighter, not really. All I can do is hope that tragedy won’t happen again.” 

“You are a fighter,” Tanjirou tells you. And when you look up at him, you can tell he’s not lying. “You protected Nezuko for me… you protected Tamako. You’re learning medicine to help others, and learning basic techniques so you can defend yourself if you need it.” You hate when he looks you right in the eye. How can one man make you feel so important? “That sounds strong to me.”

“When you put it like that…” you grumble.

“Good,” Tanjirou smiles again. You don’t think you’ll ever grow tired of how pretty he looks when he smiles. “You should go back to bed. You need rest after your fight.”

“Will you be here tomorrow?” You’re slightly nervous that he’ll leave as you sleep because his life is probably busy. 

“Yes,” he assures you. “We still have a lot to talk about.” 

You agree. The fact that you and Tanjirou are soulmates- that’s a life changer, isn’t it? Things are bound to be affected and shift. 

Tanjirou is kind and cheesy enough to tuck you in, giving you a shy kiss on your head, right next to the scar that brought you both together. “Tanjirou?” You whisper. “Is it okay that things turned out this way? That I’m your soulmate?” 

“Absolutely,” he assures you. “Things will become different, but that isn’t bad. I’m glad I found you. Or, well, Nezuko is the one that found you,” the boy laughs softly and cups your cheek. “I’m glad you’re here.” 

“I’m glad you’re here, too,” you say back, your cheeks positively warm under his touch. He kisses your forehead again before finally tearing away, exiting the room with a small ‘goodnight’ and leaving you with your thoughts.

Honestly, you feel good. Meeting Tanjirou seems like the start of something big, strange, and wonderful. For the first time in a long time, you feel like things are going to be alright. You can do this- you can fight and live. 

And you look forward to doing it all with your soulmate.

[genuflectx]

Alien/Reader {Xenith}

Length: 12,346 words

Main Themes: Aliens, fluff, consensual human pets, pet shows, micro/macro, comfort,

Other Warnings: Grief, global warming, mention of surgery, physical exam, telepathy, insects, space travel, broken family, being poor

SHOUT OUT to my beta readers! RosalieBear and Volurin!

(all images in aesthetic board are labeled for reuse with modification or are mine)

If you enjoy this writing, consider joining my patreon! $5 donors get to see half of stories like these before publishing, and $10 donors see the whole thing a full month before everyone else!

1/25/2020: REPOST

There was just nothing left for you on Earth. Nothing. The last thing you felt before leaving that dirt ball was relief.

The tides had risen significantly, draining into unprepared cities and tourist destinations. Corporations had seen it coming but had pockets too fat to ever consider a change. The little people wanted change; cried for it. There was simply no one around to listen. You could no longer stand to see your home planet dying in front of you. You’d already lost a pen-pal to the flood waters of a grand hurricane, inspired by the boiling sea.

The city you grew up in became more violent as you aged. You tried not to come out of your shoddy apartment if you could, wanting to avoid the risk of becoming the center of the next vigil. It wasn’t the peoples’ fault, widespread economic inequality plunged more and more innocents into unavoidable poverty. Even you saw some of that pain when one year, you were forced to live off of noodles, rice, and beans, courtesy of a broken limb. Medical bills weren’t cheap in your country.

But the worst of it wasn’t the failing climate or the civil unrest. It was the sheer loneliness. Your family was scattered; decades were punctuated by uneasy gatherings that just reiterated why it was you only met once every ten fucking years. Good god, even the aunt who was supposedly the nice one gave you the migraine of the century. And your parents? They’d broken your heart.

You’d had a generally good relationship with your mother and father, even if they always felt the need to fight against your every life decision. Your mother had contracted an avoidable ailment, believing only in alternative medicines, and passed away. Your father, unable to cope, spiraled into an understandable depression, and hadn’t been the same since. He did not believe in psychology or medications taken for mental health, much like your mother. And there was nothing you could do to change that. Years after your mother’s passing, you became distant from your father.

So there really was nothing for you left on Earth. Nothing but worsening weather, crushed rebellions, and your ever silent pay-as-you-go phone. But the Xenith homeworld, beaming with white light? It would be a clean slate. A new life.

It was nearly a decade ago that the Xenith had made first contact. They were easy going, monstrously big creatures, that became overly excited when they’d met their first human. They had no intention of meddling in human politics. No no, Earth was much too messy. But they thought the humans themselves were so interesting, that at the first world-wide conference with Earth’s leaders, they asked humanity to ship people to their planet as soon as possible. The world leaders had naturally been baffled. ‘Ship’ humans like a product? They did not agree. The Xenith had been disappointed but understood.

But, after many years of discussion, of voting, of drawing contracts, a few countries were finally on board. And it was all free. The Xenith provided everything needed to pay for transport. They even trained humans for and oversaw the surgeries that were necessary for humanity to survive in their atmosphere and gravity.

So, after having robotic organs implanted directly into your body, going through a long recovery process, and packing a few small bags, you were shepherded onto a spacecraft and given a room. You boarded without even looking back. Not even a text goodbye to your family. You were certain they would never even notice you were out of state, let alone off planet.

The journey wasn’t so terrible, if you were honest with yourself. Most of the staff were human, save for a single Xenith translator. But being near that one Xenith was simply… astounding. You got the feeling you would never lose the awe you had upon being in the same room as one, let alone if you were ever in the presence of a whole crowd.

It was true that they were giants. When knuckle-walking on all fours, they must have been at least fifteen to twenty feet tall. When standing bipedal, even taller. Their pads were soft, black to dark-blue, and stretched across ninety percent of their four thick fingers and beyond the knuckles. Then, their feet had three round toes with equally as thick padding on the soles.

Their bodies were smooth and rubbery, with semi-glittery skin, as if partially transparent. Skin colors ranged from pale blues, pinks, yellows, and grays, to the rare dark gray. They had four slits in their lower chest from which they breathed from, and instead of hair around the edges, there was a lace like material to protect the delicate flesh within. Tails were usually cropped, but if not cropped at birth then they would grow long and stiff. Their pelvic bone was theropod-like. It made them sit funny.

Despite their cold outward appearance and inability to express as widely as a human, they donned their bodies in beautiful clothes. The translator themself wore bright, pumpkin-orange fabrics over their body, which was embroidered with dark red thread. Their clothes were not tight fitting. Rather, they made one reminiscent of blankets thrown over horses during winter. Perhaps they even looked like capes, especially when they stood on their back feet.

Xenith were just amazing. You could hardly believe one of those beasts was supposedly going to adopt you. You couldn’t imagine how life with one would play out.

While the trip was very accommodating, and the watchful presence of the translator kept everyone up to date, the food had been a down side. Apparently supplying enough goodies for the re-locating humans had been too expensive after all those surgeries. Only the ship staff got the real stuff. Everyone else got flavored paste in pouches. The alien promised better grub upon arrival, as the government run ‘companion shops’ were very eager to receive a new shipment of humans.

“Thhhey’re the new favorittte,” the translator had bellowed with their strange, five-pronged tongue. “humansss…. are so cute! You will be treated well.”

You had a lot of thinking to do while the craft took its two month journey into the stars. This was considered a 'job’ or 'volunteer work’ by the humans who arranged the set up. But to the Xenith, it was much more. It made you wonder exactly what the nature of being a 'companion’ was. Before deciding to leave, you had done a little reading, but only enough to know that you were eligible and able to leave as soon as possible. The rest of the information on what the job entailed would come to you through the translator.

Xenith rarely spoke aloud, and when they did it was slow and booming with a lisp. Otherwise, communication lay in their skilled telepathic abilities. Their satellite dish heads and six wriggly antenna aided their inward conversation, but did not translate well with lesser species, including humans. It was very difficult for them to learn human languages. Luckily, the translator had become an expert over the year.

“When you arrive,” said the alien, their tongue pronouncing 'v’ as 'fph,’ “you will come to be placcced into public viewing roomsss in designated adoption locations. Many will be waittting. Many will want you.”

Someone in the back of the orientation room asked “So, this is like an apprenticeship, right?”

That had confused the Xenith. They blinked and took a brief moment to think, the skinny antennae on their flat head fidgeting. Eventually their brain pulled up the translation, and they perked up. “No, this is not ssservitude. You learn no trade. But if any harm comesss to you, you will be removed. Not that harm comesss your way. We cannot think to hurt our companion.”

“And we can leave whenever we want? If we don’t like it? I read that we could!” asked someone else skeptically.

They nodded. “Whenever you would like. But… you would break your master'sss heart, as you term the phrase,”

The more you learned about the species during your transport, the more you realized what the translator had said was pretty literal. Humanity liked to imagine itself as a quick-to-pack-bond species, but the Xenith had them beat. Their whole psychology was based so heavily around emotional bonding that when a pet passed away, it nearly killed them. For their companion to dislike them so much that they would leave willingly, it meant absolute heart break to the Xenith. You wouldn’t doubt that organ failure due to the strain of separation was possible too, but that was only a guess.

It was all as the translator had said. Upon arrival the humans were relocated to sprawling government facilities that housed creatures looking to be adopted. Both sentient and non-sentient species were presented. You were placed into a rather roomy, glass-walled space at the front of the building. Two other humans lived with you, and through the right-sided wall, you could see another group of three inside of their own spacious glass room. It truly reminded you of a combination pet shop and apartment complex, if not for the hovering aliens constantly peeping over the glass.

A caretaker, who did not speak any human languages, made sure all was well three times a day. Hot food and heavily filtered water were always available. The three of you had your own rooms with human beds, which the Xenith cleaned once a day.

You’d never had a maid before. It gave you a vague sense of guilt that you weren’t cleaning the room yourself, but the caretaker did not seem to mind. If anything, they acted as if they had the most wondrous job on the planet; humming aloud and talking cheerfully to the pets despite language barriers.

Over the course of three days your bunk mates had been adopted. You grew sad and alone, wondering why it was you that had yet to be chosen. Humans were supposed to be the new favorites, right? There were certainly a great number of Xenith who still visited your cage, but after they spoke with the caretaker, they left to view other options.

What was so wrong with you? Was it something the caretaker said that scared everyone away? Many a night was spent at the edge of your tidy little bed, lost in thought. Anxiety plagued your heart. Maybe this was a mistake.

At the very least, there was a particular Xenith that visited you once a day. You wanted to believe that they were interested in having you, but worry got the best of your troubled mind. For all you knew, they just pitied you; glancing down into the glass thinking how it was so sad no one actually wanted to take you home. You sighed.

This alien had four fleshy horn-like appendages on their satellite dish head, in which the top-most left horn was shorter, as if by past injury. A deep dark red cloak was tied over their back, which fluttered and swayed as they padded on their knuckles. The reds, accented by golds, contrasted the pale, desaturated blue of their silvery skin. They also had a cropped tail, and whenever they greeted the caretaker, their tail stub and six pink antennae would wiggle.

You hoped with all your heart that they were thinking about picking you. You couldn’t take the loneliness any longer. That was the main reason why you left Earth, after all. Still, the nagging fear that you would not be wanted, not even by the supposedly pack bonding Xenith, instilled a deeply rooted misery in your twisting guts.

Another despairing week passed by. In the morning, that particular red-robed Xenith came to your display for the dozenth time. The caretaker came with them, and they were both glancing down at you and across to one another silently. You squinted, wondering what the pale giants were telecommuting about.

“(And all is settled? The shipment is now here? It must be perfect.)”

The inner eye lids of the caretaker’s eyes blinked slowly. “(Correct, Sientia. The import of human belongings has docked. Expect delivery today.)”

Sientia was delighted, their upper most and longest antenna coiling together with excitement. They gently lifted and pressed the pads of their knuckles to the ground, as if prancing in place. Now that the secondary ships containing Earth goods were finally arriving, caring for human pets would be a lot easier. There had to be good beds, good bathrooms, good food and clothes. So, tomorrow, Sientia would come back and remove you from the lonely communal homes.

Sientia, some short time before, had reached the end of their mourning period. As a Xenith, companionship was the main driving force of their life. So when their previous pet passed away of old age, they fell into a deep, sorrowful grief, and decided if they survived mourning, the next one must have a longer life span. It just so happened that the long-lived alien species, Homo sapiens, were finally agreeing to put their people into the Xenith pet program.

So, Sientia had given away some of their extra crop in order to secure their pick of the next human pet shipment. Each craft carried fifty at a time, so demand was very high, especially being that it was first come first serve with pets. And on the first day of your shipment’s arrival, Sientia had chosen you. You were the perfect shape, and with the despairing history listed in your files, Sientia knew you had to be the one. How could they choose any other human to be their companion? They would give you a happy life.

Both of the giants began to stare down at you, and you stared back. The visitor lifted back their lips (or what barely constituted as lips) and bore their flat teeth in what you assumed was meant to be a smile. Xenith facial expressions were rather empty, since they spoke telepathically. This one was acting on purpose. They were hoping to elicit comfort from you. Instead, something about the attention made you embarrassed and you looked back down.

The next day the funny blue-tinted alien arrived to take you home. They were accompanied by the caretaker, who was in very good spirits. Sientia splayed out their huge palm inside the glass, awaiting your reaction. Instantly, the caretaker jolted.

“(You may scare the thing away with such forward action! It is typical to allow me to place the pet into a container for relocation. If they bite you or become injured, I am not liable.)”

Sientia barely flinched at the warning, instead focusing on you. It was as if they had not heard the caretaker at all. “(Come, come. I am taking you home!)”

When Sientia 'spoke,’ you heard nothing. Rather, you felt the strangest tickle in your brain that traveled down your spine, and you got the sense that they were asking for your attention.

Glancing slowly from the hand to the strange salamander face above you, you suddenly realized you were being adopted. Relief washed over you and, with a nervous smile, you climbed on.

You flailed and got to your knees when the hand moved. Gravity pressed down on you gently as Sientia lifted you up, up, up out of the glass apartment and into the air. They stopped you close to their face, where you could look deeply into their six pink neon eyes.

“…H-hi,” you peeped, feeling as vulnerable as a bare baby.

“(Look, they are brave! I will carry them,)” Sientia imparted happily to the caretaker.

“(Very well. Allow them to collect their belongings, then you may leave. Please contact us if you require additional supplies. And you,)” The caretaker gestured towards you with their long antennae. “(You must be good to Sientia. Their body is weak from mourning.)”

Of course, you heard nothing.

So you gathered your things and went home with them in the most horrifying way possible; over twenty feet in the air. They trod home on two feet. The world moved passed you in a blur of light and color, and when Sientia noticed you shaking, they placed their other hand over you to create a comfortable bubble of safety. You wrapped your arms around one of their thick fingers so you could feel some sense of security.

Eventually you arrived. Before letting you down, they moved into a specific room and closed the door behind them. It was best to let pets grow used to their new environment slowly. One room would do for now.

“(There you are,)” they comforted. They placed you and your suitcase at the mouth of a house-sized 'cage,’ which rested upon a high surface. “(Nice and easy.)”

The comforting words fell upon deaf ears. You stood there shaking, still feeling adrenaline pumping in your veins. You barely shifted to glance back at the uncomfortably square human-sized door.

Sientia stared at you. When you only moved to cross your arms, they snorted from the nostrils of their chest and went away to a device embedded in the wall. They touched the screen. A couple of choice pages were pulled up, to which they read greedily from. Images were downloaded.

They glanced back at you. Back to the screen. Back at you. Then they lumbered over and sat down nearby.

“(I see I have made a mistake, your expression seems to be 'unhappy,’ or 'distant.’ You are a brave human. But. I may have been irresponsible to carry you before you were ready. I got, excited.)”

They studied your face for a while longer, their expression hard to read. Xenith had a perma-smile, much like dolphins. Sometimes it was unnerving to look at.

You looked away, feeling awkward to be stared at silently. Soon you began to glance around the gigantic room, noticing the state of your surroundings. Besides Sientia’s bed (what looked like a pile of cloth in a long box), a computer poking out of the wall, and the smooth counter top that your cage sat upon, the room was eerily empty. The walls were a pale, metallic pink, and a heavy light emulated the sun overhead. No windows.

Sientia huffed. They decided they would attempt to communicate better. They didn’t know your language, but they had learned a few words and phrases in preparation for your arrival. They’d probably butcher them, but hopefully you would understand. Earth languages did not come easily with their sticky, five pronged tongue.

“(Perhaps I should have began with) Hello, I am called Sssientia.”

You started frightfully. You didn’t think this one could talk!

“Could you speak the whole time? Um, I’m [Y/N]. Your name is… pretty. Ssssen-ccchia,” you enunciated. It sounded more harsh from your toothy mouth, though.

They perked up, pleased. Finally, your attention was back upon them. Now you both knew each other’s names. Not a bad start!

“Hungry?” asked the giant, trying to speak softly so as not to frighten you.

You smiled shyly. That spooky ride to your new home had made you forget you hadn’t had breakfast. “Yes, a little.” you replied.

Sientia knew 'yes.’ They made a low, throaty sound and stood up on all fours, then got to their two feet. You were left alone in the empty room as the alien fetched something to eat. Curiosity over came you; what would they bring back? The adoption facility had given you baked chicken, fresh corn-on-the-cob, and ripe fruits like peaches and pears. Would your new owner present the same? Your belly rumbled.

They returned, hopeful you would like the foods they were given from the companion facility. Sientia plopped down carefully and lowered their palm. Inside was a cucumber, a hunk of warm, uncut bread, and a fat chicken leg. The meal looked miniscule in their oversized grasp.

“Strange combination,” you mumbled with a smirk, accepting the food. There was no plate, so you just nibbled straight from their hand.

Sientia’s antennae wiggled and curled with joy. They watched their little pet eat from their palm; a new sense of adoration and comfort washing over them. They had a good feeling about you, even if they still hurt from their previous loss.

They’d been so terribly sad when their previous pet had passed. Sientia had known that it was coming. That species only lived about twenty-five years, which for a human, was fifteen Earth years. But it was still a shock when they’d woken to find their beloved friend gone. Even while watching you eat, they felt a small tang of pain. The mourning period was over, but the sadness of memory never really left.

As you crunched straight into the juicy cucumber, Sientia crunched down on something too. You stared up, head cocking in confusion. When Sientia noticed, they slowly lowered the partially eaten food to your level for you to get a good look-see.

You stepped back. “Ah! That’s a HUGE bug!”

The half-eaten insect-like fauna was removed from your space as soon as Sientia realized it scared you. Seemed like a lot about the Xenith world frighten a human, but they hoped you would come to enjoy it in time.

“(It is tasty, I raise them. Perhaps I will show you the farm someday. But staying very close. You are a good snack for large livestock, like this one,)” they gestured by lifting the insect in hand, then biting off another gooey chunk.

You shuddered and averted your eyes. Gross. How could you forget? Xenith were well known on Earth as a people who consumed 'gargantuan pests.’ Great measures were taken to bar them from entering livestock onto Earth when they visited. Dead ones only. They’d surely cause a massive plague if not kept well under watch. Yet, here on the Xenith home planet, they were farmed far and wide as a main source of food.

You weren’t hungry anymore.

The rest of the day was spent inside that one room, exploring. That is to say, exploring what little there was to actually explore. Your cage was like a little house: a cozy bedroom with a king-sized bed, a spacious bathroom (plumbing and all), a small library with books in many languages, and a more open area for eating.

The cage did not have a ceiling, except for the bathroom. One of the walls of your bedroom was glass, while the dining room was all glass. By contrast, both the library and the bathroom were made of painted wooden walls.

Below the cage there was empty space, empty space, empty space. Perhaps for Sientia this was a small room, but to a human it was a beaming cathedral. You felt like a ladybug when you tottered about the bottom edges of Sientia’s thickly blanketed bed. Sientia kept a close eye on you while you sniffed around. They did not want to step on you.

The day was long on this planet. A cycle was thirty-two Earth hours. You ended up taking a five hour 'nap’ in the mid-day. Had a second meal. Then about three hours after that, Sientia gently put you back to bed and dimmed the room’s light.

After a very, very long sleep, you were awoken as Sientia stirred about the house. You rose drowsily. Good god, you hoped a few months on that schedule would see you adjusting to it well. Your circadian rhythm, so far, was displeased. Days too long, nights too long. But you’d live.

As you slipped an old T-shirt over your head, Sientia appeared, looking in above you. They watched you a bit, but you were reluctant to do anything while feeling like a walking television.

“Uh, hi,” you waved awkwardly.

“Hi,” Sientia repeated. They did not know many words. “Hungry?”

Food was already set out for you in the dining area. You had a breakfast of scrambled eggs (a little rubbery), pancakes (with maple embedded), and a sliced apple (salted). When you were full, Sientia slid one of the glass walls out of place. You didn’t know those were removable!

A hand was laid down. “[Y/N], come, (I am going to get you many nice things to wear.)”

You grimaced. You didn’t want to be carried around like that again just yet. “I would rather not.”

Sientia’s antennae moved subtly, thinking, then they understood the issue. The hand came back up as they puffed out their chest. Sientia pointed to a harness. Right above their four nostrils was a backpack like carrier, which was strapped around their shoulders. It reminded you of a baby wrap or purse, but much, much larger. It even had a few pouches in front for accessories, such as food or toys.

“You had one of those? Why did you carry me in your hand yesterday!” It was more scolding than it was a question.

Sientia bellowed a response, but you got the feeling that it was as meaningful as a human meowing back at a cat.

“…Alright, okay. Let’s just do this then.”

So they cheerfully settled you into the pocket on their chest. It was deep enough that you would not have to see the world, if you choose not to climb up and look.

You spent the ride curled up close to the side of the pouch that Sientia’s skin touched on the other side. You thought you could hear a heartbeat from there, but that was surely impossible. Xenith didn’t have hearts. At least, not in the human sense. Still, there was the steady pulse of their body, thumping gently and keeping you calm. And since you were so close to their nostrils, hot air constantly warmed the pouch. You wondered if this was how a lap dog felt while being carried in a purse. It was nice. You nearly forgot that you were being carried far from the ground.

Finally, Sientia came to their destination. It was a little pet boutique that sold many different types of imported clothes, specializing in sentient species. It had recently begun to acquire shipments of imported human goods.

Sientia had been devastated to see what little you had brought with you, and was determined to put you in something better. You may have left your new home wearing a hole-worn T-shirt, but you would return wearing lavish threads.

“(Hello, what species do you shop for?)” asked the retailer, who was dressed in extravagant magenta fabrics.

You poked your head out, nervous eyes wandering around.

“(Eh! You care for a human! So cute! Yes, yes, we have many clothes for humans. Please, let them down to browse, and we may write up a payment plan.)”

Sientia helped you to the floor and the retailer pointed them towards the human section. It looked small, but it was truly as expansive as a mega-chain on Earth.

“Y/N,” Sientia gestured towards the clothes and gave you a nudge.

You hadn’t been paying much attention and stumbled, catching your balance by grasping onto a clothes rack. Upon realizing the rack was proportionate to your size, you gawked. Your wide, surprised eyes drank in the sight; rows upon rows of imported human goods. Dresses, jackets, shorts, coats, an extensive section of underwear. You looked back at Sientia with awe.

“Are you actually going to buy me clothes?” you peeped, barely audible enough for the pale giant.

When they gestured towards the rows again, you turned and began to tear through the selection.

You tried on clothes for an Earth hour. When you’d come out from the (far too big) stalls to show Sientia, they were always overjoyed with how stunning you looked. It didn’t seem to matter what you picked out, it simply pleased them that you were having so much fun.

At the checkout line, you had garment after garment piled up in your arms. You couldn’t remember the last time your face had hurt from smiling this long. Sientia carefully petted your head with a round finger tip before taking the clothes and checking out. You’d gotten all that you’d wanted, and instead of being chided, your master was brimming with elation. No one had ever been so glad to throw their money away on you. Not even your parents. You tried to massage your cheeks to relax them while the retailer and Sientia finished up their business.

Back home, you folded and hung your new threads up neatly. Then you strutted about bearing a fancy faux fur coat and patterned leggings. You even had new name brand shoes. None of it matched, but it was more than you’d ever had. To show off like a proud peacock made you blush, but Sientia purred and grumbled happily, finding you quite humorous. You couldn’t help but enjoy their attention after such a nice outing together.

They brought their head down to the table. “(You seem so happy and look so good! I hope I’m doing well by you, so that you may want to stay with me.)”

You came near. Avoiding their watchful gaze, you nervously lifted a hand and patted their snout, between the smaller eyes. “Thank you for all of this, really. I was worried about being here, but I think… maybe you have a good heart. Or,” you laughed “maybe you just like to spend extravagant amounts of money to show off? Well.. I’m grateful.”

They audibly chirped at you in reply, nuzzling the hand carefully with affection.

A few days went by uneventfully. Then one day, while you were being allowed to explore the (much larger) main chamber, a loud beep alerted Sientia to visitors.

They opened the door. “(Antha, you’re here! Welcome! It’s been very long, please come and have a drink. Where is your- eh! Your human is on your head! Doesn’t that hurt?)”

The dark gray Xenith bumped a padded fist with Sientia in greeting, then chuckled out loud. They came inside as they spoke. “(Only a little, it tickles now mostly. We are close, so I am not annoyed! Now, where is yours that you tell me so much about? I’ve been eager for ours to meet. It is good for humans to have a friend. They’re social beings.”)

You carefully stepped under a table, watching the guest enter. Upon the other’s dark, wide set head, a human stood and clung to antennae with both of their hands. It frightened you even to look at. Good god, that was high. They could slip at any moment and plummet to their death. You had to look away so it didn’t make you queasy.

“Come,” called Sientia as the two Xenith laid on blankets around the shallow table.

So you came out and were placed upon the surface, which was covered with a thin, patterned cloth. Likewise, the guest brought down their companion. Instead of going to greet one another, you both remained close to the side your master lay at. But then Antha spoke an alien language out loud, and their human came to you.

“Hey. Antha thinks I need to talk to someone of my own species I guess. So uh,” he stuck out his hand awkwardly.

What was this, a business meeting? You hesitantly accepted the shake. This man was possibly ten years older than you and was wearing casual, comfortable clothes. He spoke with a slight accent, which you were unfamiliar with. But the most interesting feature was that when Antha spoke to him again, he actually turned and understood.

“So like… you can understand them?”

The man turned back to you. “Uh, not really,” he pointed at a device in his ear. “Antha just got us digital translators. I mean, some of the words don’t translate very well, and there’s some lag, but it’s better than nothing. I think my master is going to give yours one! Say, how long have you been a pet?”

While you and the other chatted idly, Sientia and Antha caught up.

“(So… you’ve been feeling better?)” Antha asked quietly in Sientia’s head.

Sientia’s eyes became downcast. “(I… suppose so. It’s hard to adjust to something new after being with someone for so long. It’s going to take a while.)”

Antha lowered their head in understanding.

“(It still hurts. As I rest, my body aches,)” their six antennae moved sluggishly and drooped.

Antha attempted to comfort. “(I am here. And so is- what do you call your companion? They will sooth your ache too.)”

“([Y/N], a good name. I believe they are feeling well about their new home. The cage is proportioned correctly, and they have eaten nearly everything I’ve given them. We do not communicate well, because we cannot understand one another, but I feel that they are generally happy so far.)”

Antha’s head bobbed, remembering they’d come for a reason. “(Th, yes! Here, accept this gift!)” they then dug something out of the pouch around their chest. There was a strange object, meant to be clipped onto one of the large antennas. Then, beside it, a tinier object that looked like a grain of sand in the palm of a Xenith.

“(Gift?)”

“(See that I speak to my human so easily? This is a translator! My friend, you’ve been through such grief, you deserve something nice. Please accept it.) Clarence dear, help [Y/N] with the device.”

The man stopped talking and perked up at his name. He nodded, and took the small piece when it was lowered to him. He helped you do basic set up while Antha fit the bigger piece onto Sientia. It took about ten minutes to get everything all settled, but luckily, it wasn’t too difficult.

“Can you hear me?” asked your master nervously.

You gasped then smiled. Amazing! “Yes! Yes, I understand perfectly! This is so cool!”

Clarence returned to the side of Antha and sat in their hand, satisfied.

“It works well,” spoke Antha, rubbing their thumb gently over their pet’s back.

“Thank you Antha! Th- [Y/N], are you happy?”

Emotions were mingling and mixing intensely inside of you. So when Sientia suddenly popped that question, you had to take a moment to process it. That was only the third question Sientia had asked you since meeting, and it was such a selfless one. You blushed.

“I-I-I mean-” you stammered. “-this world is… different. But the air is clean and the people are kind, so.. yeah. I’m pretty happy,” you spilled. “Anything beats Earth.”

You glanced back at Clarence and Antha. Clarence was rubbing his face against Antha’s fingers affectionately like a cat. Your blush darkened and you snapped back to Sientia, who titled their head.

“Are you happy, Sientia?” you peeped. You wanted to add 'are you happy with ME?’ but did not.

“…Yes, see?” they put on a humanoid smile, teeth and all, like they had done before adopting you. But there was a thin layer of sadness under that reply.

You were quiet, but eventually smiled back. You hoped Sientia couldn’t understand the way your brows furrowed in concern.

After a short, awkward silence, Antha huffed and spoke up. “Sientia, [Y/N], have you considered competing yet?”

You looked back and forth between the two. “Competing?”

“(NO,)” Sientia lowered their head and looked away. “(Antha… you know that was Inridd'h and I’s favorite thing.)”

“(Yes, I’m sorry,)” they apologized, before lifting a grabby Clarence up onto their head. “(But I just… I also know how much it meant to you. To be able to train and spend so much time with your companion, and to show the crowd how much you trusted one another.”)

It seemed the Xenith were ignoring you. You sighed and sat down, legs crossed.

Sientia looked back up at Antha, their sad pink and cyan eyes like doe. They watched Clarence balance and keep a careful hold on Antha’s antennae. Eventually he made his way to the back of Antha’s head where their crest was, and settled there when Antha tilted their head forward. No sense of fear. Clarence knew Antha would not allow him to fall. Then, Sientia shifted to watch you. You sat so patiently, waiting for attention. Guilt struck the blue Xenith.

“[Y/N],” they called softly. “Would you like to compete?”

You straightened up. “Well, that probably depends on what you two mean by competing. Like… sports?”

Antha rumbled. “Perhaps not. It’s more similar to a, ehm, a 'dog show?'”

They didn’t sound too convinced of their own comparison. You scratched your head and leaned back on your hands. “So like, being dressed up and paraded around an arena? Or is it more like agility, where dogs run through tubes and go up ramps?”

Both of the aliens looked confused. It seemed they had difficulty explaining. Antha only had vague knowledge of how human dog shows worked, and Sientia was totally unaware of them. However, Clarence had been in a few small scale shows.

“It’s kind of a dog show plus beauty pageant!” he yelled from Antha’s head. Antha flinched in return, so Clarence apologized quietly for yelling so close to their sensitive antennae.

Sientia placed their head onto the table, where eye contact was easier. They looked like they were awaiting a response.

You stood and crossed your arms uncomfortably. A sense of dread sat in your guts. You thought about the nice new clothes you’d been given, and tried to imagine yourself walking down a stage all fluffed up. All your brain could conjure was the image of a crowd of Xenith and strange, beautiful alien creatures, wondering why it was you were so… ugly. Why were your clothes like that? Why walk that way? You imagined what they’d say.

'Oh, you know humanity is simply second to the slug peoples of planet Dirtemous. That’s why they all look and act so hilarious!’

Then the beautiful alien’s equally beautiful friend would laugh and reply. 'Yes, and what sort of awful thing would ever want to claim THAT particular human as a pet? I’d rather have the slug! Ho-ho-ho!’

You took a breath. What a stupid imagination you had. But even such an exaggerated, outlandish thought had some sort of truth in it. You were anxious. Not only were you worried about being scrutinized by strangers, you were also worried that you would embarrass your master. Sientia was a kind, lonely thing. They didn’t need you making things worse. You were just making yourself sadder and sadder, and the look in Sientia’s eyes did not help.

“You don’t have to agree, my pet,” they eventually added.

With one last glance at Clarence and Antha, you decided. You wanted to trust Sientia like that. You wanted to make them happy. So, you would try.

“Yes. I don’t think I’ll be very good at it, or win anything, but… yes. I’ll compete,” you shrugged.

There was both pain and joy inside of Sientia. The notion that they were replacing a chunk of their heart that was once filled with their old pet devastated them. But they also knew the only way to recover was to keep going; to move forward. Inridd'h would not have wanted them to keep falling asleep at night aching for relief. Inridd'h did not smile upon them when they shut themself away.

Sientia, too, would try.

An overwhelming desire for comfort overtook Sientia, and they scooted their flat head forward to nuzzle you. It knocked you back a bit to have their whole head thrust up against your body, but you steadied and petted their head.

“Are you okay?” you asked, unaware of why it was they seemed so upset.

Antha stood up slowly. “It is time we head back home. Please keep in contact, Sientia. I care. We will want to come to your competition! Goodbye friends.”

“(Wait, you never had anything to drink!)”

But Antha and Clarence had already gotten to the door and let themselves out.

You hadn’t been sure what training for an alien competition would entail.

Apparently, you would be physically looked over to determine if you had good breeding. Like a dog. You didn’t look forward to that part very much, considering you were sentient and not some space lemur that could just be treated like decoration. This segment would also note your outfit. Sientia had said that this part of the competition would be worth less points than the rest of the competition.

Then, much like a pageant, you would show off your talents. This forced you to actually have to sit down one night and determine what the hell your talents even were. Running away from home, maybe? You got flashbacks from the horrific talent show in second grade. You did not want a repeat of that.

“I don’t think I really have any talents,” you admitted to your master as you sat comfortably in their bed.

Sientia laid down beside you, poking at a device in their hands. You supposed the device was much like a cell phone on Earth, but made for the Xeniths’ large, clumsy fingers. They were pulling up videos of humans performing various tasks, hoping to find a talent to suggest.

“Cooking?” they asked.

“I can cook packaged ramen. Maybe bake a potato. So no.”

“Horse riding? We do not have a 'horse,’ but they can provide something similar.”

You plopped over on your back, grimacing. “God, no.”

“Th! Humans are adequate at singing!”

“Um… let’s not even go there.”

With every suggestion your heart sank further and further. You should have never agreed. With a sigh you turned over onto your side, hoping to keep Sientia from seeing the way your eyes watered. You wiped at the sting.

“Sientia, really, I don’t think I can win this. So maybe I should give up before we get too deep.”

They sat up on their elbows, setting the device down. “I detect sadness in your voice. Did you change your mind?”

“I just don’t want to get your hopes up.”

The room was quiet a moment. Then the giant turned on their side and gently rubbed their finger along your back, hoping to ease the pain in your words. The sensation was… actually very nice.

“Please, do not be sad [Y/N]! You don’t have to do this if it makes you uncomfortable. The competition is simply an act, performed for the love of it, and perhaps sometimes for the prize! I don’t believe any companion’s master has been broken by a loss. I could not be disappointed if we lost. So, please feel better.”

You still had a heavy heart, but the reassurance that this was not anything serious helped you feel a bit easier. Knowing that Sientia already knew you could lose and did not care cheered you up even more.

“R-really?” you squeaked, turning onto your back once again.

They nodded, swiping their finger across your torso and belly as if to continue comforting.

You squeaked and grabbed the finger, face red. “That tickles!”

Sientia stopped and removed the appendage. “Eh! Sorry!” they looked away. “My… previous companion enjoyed belly rubs.”

Now it was Sientia who sounded sad.

“Do you… want to talk about it?”

They thought, antennae moving slow as if fidgeting. Eventually they huffed out hot air and answered.

“They were bigger than you. Non-sentient. Covered in rough, damp skin. Very jumpy and loud, and they passed away in their favorite spot in the glass house. We… used to compete a lot. And I miss them,” Sientia seemed to sink into the blankets. “That is all I would like to say for now. I’m still hurting.”

You had to wipe at your eyes again. Memories of your mother played through your tumultuous brain, reminding you how grief could invade one’s life so fully. Even when your family had problems, you never could stifle or hide the hurt when she passed. After gaining courage, you stood and moved to curl up against Sientia’s skin.

The alien was surprised at the contact. They glanced down and felt their affection surge for you, the finger coming to your back again.

“You’re so much softer than Inridd'h. So much different.”

You curled against yourself tighter and nuzzled your forehead against their skin. “I’m sorry.”

“No, it is good that you’re different. I’m different than I once was, too. Please never be sorry for being yourself, my pet.”

After a minute or two of easy silence, they added. “Do you still want to compete, or have your changed your mind?”

Without hesitation, you replied. “I still want to do it. Maybe I can’t think of a talent off the top of my head, but… I’m sure we’ll figure it out. Together.”

In the end, you decided on painting. According to Sientia, Xenith were most fond of abstract art. That was something you could do. Though not formally trained, you’d painted a couple of shoddy pieces in the past that your parents had enjoyed. One had even been printed as a holiday greetings card, much to your embarrassment. But unlike the thickly globbed on acrylics of family pets and favored cartoon characters, you’d be working with thin watercolors to make something representational and abstract.

So you practiced and practiced. Sientia had even gotten you a nice new desk to sit and paint at. You’d use thin sheets of paper to work with, though the Xenith’s idea of “thin paper” was still rather thick.

It was actually extremely therapeutic to just focus on shapes and color. You’d find yourself trying to represent the objects in your room without making it obvious what they were. Making an abstract piece representational was a feat and required a great deal of thought. You hoped by the time the competition started, you’d be able to stand in front of the crowd and paint something they would enjoy.

Soon, you moved onto painting on a sheet of paper tacked to a wooden board, which was held up by a portable easel. You’d stand in front of the blank, semi-yellowed sheet, and just think. A pink spot there. An orange square there. A deep, deep cobalt wave streaked vertically through the piece. It was missing something. You watered down some yellow then made a generously thick, wiggly-lined circle around the square. Done.

“How comes practice?”

You were startled and snapped your head up. How long had Sientia been watching? You stilled your heart and smiled up at them. “I actually think my work isn’t half bad!”

“Hm,” The giant lowered their head closer to your spot on the counter top. “What is it?”

You stepped back. “Well, what do you think it is?”

This response pleased Sientia. They tilted their head this way and that, before deciding. “I don’t recognize the shape. This yellow, it is a good color. I am no artist, but I also enjoy-” they gestured to the blue. “-this squiggle, here.”

You placed your hands on your hips, feeling all fuzzy from the praise. “It’s a lamp. One I had in my apartment, way back on Earth. It was pretty ugly, but my parents had given it to me as a housewarming gift.”

Sientia lifted their looming head back up. “I didn’t know humans needed heat lamps. Should I ask one be imported?”

You laughed heartily, before taking a rest and explaining that no, you had not referred to a heat lamp.

The time to compete finally came. Sientia picked out a nice outfit for you to wear, settled you into the pouch, then headed out eagerly.

You knew you’d arrived when it became terribly noisy. Most of the Xenith remained in their heads, however other alien species that resided on the planet were chattering away.

You poked your head out of the pouch to watch where you were being taken. You were inside of an arena, which was surprisingly similar to arenas on Earth. The stands were chock-full. It was hard to distinguish what sort of other aliens were among the bleachers. All you could make out was a mix of pale Xenith, and various shades of lavender and baby’s breath blue.

The two of you checked in and were escorted to the first area. This space was within the bleachers. Instead of having the audience surrounding you, you were simply on camera for the first half of the contest. Later you would be taken back into the thick of it.

Sientia placed you carefully onto a pedestal as drones buzzed around everyone. They kept all companions at around Xenith chest level, as they stood on twos. Almost immediately you were surrounded by several of the other Xenith contestants, who were delighted to see a human.

A silvery Xenith focused on Sientia. “(You have a human?)”

“(Aw, might I hold them?)” asked a yellowish Xenith.

The third spoke your language. “Hello!”

Sientia huffed awkwardly and kept close. They seemed abashed.

“(Please don’t touch! This is [Y/N]. It’s their first competition, so do not frighten my dear companion!) [Y/N], are you well?”

You backed up and bumped into the hand of the yellow-tinted Xenith. With a start you leaped and stumbled back over to the side Sientia was closest to. “It’s just… wow. A lot of attention.”

“(Apologies. I attempted to adopt a human, but they continually were out. How did you receive this one?)” questioned the silver alien.

Sientia fidgeted. “(I farm, so I simply gave excess crop away early. This secured a spot to choose a human.)”

The yellow Xenith kept staring at you longingly. “(Ehmmm… I wanted one, too. You think ahead. Very smart.)”

Sientia wanted to get rid of them. “(I believe the judging is starting.)”

So the others ended up scurrying back to their own companions, but not before a couple more desirable glances were thrown down at you.

You sighed, grateful.

“It really is starting,” commented Sientia with surprise, as the judge came into the inner bleachers. “Brace yourself. The pedestal will shift.”

So. A physical and fashion check was first on the agenda. It was the part you had been dreading every day. You took a deep, calming breath.

Because so many sentient species were twelve feet and under, the judge had to be proportionate during this segment. Everyone was moved downwards, so that the small judge could come by. A drone slightly bigger than your head followed behind the no-nonsense alien, which you had no doubt was plastering all this upon the screens outside.

One by one, the contestants were- you shuttered- fondled. You didn’t know if that was a good or bad shutter, but you had butterflies in your stomach.

The judge, a seven foot tall, light blue alien that walked on the tips of its three-pronged feet, was very thorough. They would circle the contestant, watch the way they walked, judge their outfit, and then feel certain parts of the body over. Occasionally a contestant would lean in, as if dizzy, before the judge finished up, wrote something down, and then left to the next pedestal.

“Don’t be nervous,” comforted Sientia quietly, who had laid beside you. “Remember, we can forfeit at any time my pet. I will not let you stay if you change your mind.”

You smiled at them before being spooked by the sudden appearance of the judge. You hadn’t realized that the alien had been getting close.

The judge was very professional throughout most of the examination. Stoically, they watched you walk and jotted something down. Comments were mumbled in an sing-song alien tongue about your choice of outfit.

'Polka-dots, with plaid shorts?’ you imagined them saying.

Then the part that had you most nervous came. The alien felt your arms gently, slid a hand over to your chest and thumbed over the ribs. Were they counting them? They squished down where certain organs were along your body. Finally, the intrusive appendage cupped your cheek and pressed your upper lip out of the way. You instinctively bore your teeth and grimaced.

“Very good teeth. Unique human specimen,” spoke the strange alien in your language.

There was a sweet scent, like sugar, in the air. Your eyes fluttered and you found yourself relaxing. Suddenly you understood why it was some of the other contestants appeared to become dizzy. Whatever this alien was emitting smelled lovely.

The judge swiped a finger over your blunt human canines. “Always fascinated by Homo sapien teeth.”

They removed the hand and glanced over at Sientia, the air sack around their neck tinged pink. “You groom your human well,” they said in Sientia’s language.

“Thank you,” Sientia eyed the judge suspiciously.

You had no idea what they had said. The judge patted your cheek, quickly wrote a final thought down, then left. It almost made you sad to see them go. However, after a few minutes your head cleared. That was a weird experience. You straightened your back and awaited the second segment.

“Do you think I did alright?”

Sientia moved their head near. “Yes, you did wonderfully! I am certain. The judge sounded… much too pleased. Fae are simply like that, though.” They gave you an encouraging nuzzle.

You blushed and rubbed your hands over Sientia’s head. It was funny that you were supposedly the pet, yet you were the one who did most of the petting. You felt them physically purr.

After the first segment ended, contestants were directed one by one back into the main arena. The Xenith held their companions in their hand and were paraded around the edge. It was hard to keep your cool. You had to force yourself not to look down as you tried to keep balance.

This was all so overwhelming. It wasn’t nearly as loud as a stadium back on your home planet, but the quiet chatter did invade your thoughts. Being so high in the air, with all eyes and ears and words directed at you, started to make you terribly dizzy. But as you glanced over into the crowd, you found a familiar face.

“Look! It’s Antha!”

“Ehm,” hummed Sientia in response, who was finally allowed to come to a stop. “You see Antha?”

Antha wiggled their fingers. On top of their head stood Clarence, hardly more than a speck in the distance. But the little speck squirmed, and you just knew he was waving vigorously at the two of you.

Your spirits lifted again. You waved back, grinning. The support was very much needed, and Clarence’s presence reminded you of the true reason you’d decided to compete. You wanted to trust Sientia fully, as Clarence did Antha, and you wanted to make your master happy.

Sientia nodded their head in Antha’s direction. This almost made Sientia feel like they had before the mourning period; warm and fuzzy, like a healthy Xenith. They puffed up just a little more, antennae high and spread wide.

So, it was time for the talent competition to begin. You watched the flickering screens above the stadium as various individuals attempted to impress the intense, boring eyes of the judges.

There were four judges in total. One Xenith. The other three included a brawny, one-eyed biped, a large piebald covered in feathers, and the previous judge who had done the physical. They sat across the field, and hardly blinked as they jotted down notes and numbers on the performances before them.

A dark, four-armed alien with a flat face could throw a heavy metal ball across the entire field with ease. A five-foot, mousy alien could complete an agility course in under twenty seconds. A long and skinny serpent like alien could dance and twirl like a ribbon within the air. The crowd particularly liked the serpent, clicking and chattering at the graceful shapes made as she looped around.

You tried to still your heart. That was some tough competition, but you’d been practicing your art skills each and every day. You were certain you would please at least the Xenith judge. Maybe you’d win them over with your human 'cuteness,’ even if the painting didn’t elicit a major response. After all, some thought humans were endearing. If you fumbled, you’d play it off and try to look nothing short of adorable. Even if the voice in your head kept telling you that they should see you as an ugly species, that you yourself were ugly, you’d been proven wrong on multiple occasions.

Finally, it was your turn to shine.

“Are you ready?” asked Sientia quietly, with concern.

“As I’ll ever be.”

Sientia stepped further into the field, careful let you down, then removed your setup from the pouch on their chest. It was a large sheet of watercolor paper, nailed to a wooden board five feet wide and ten feet tall, which Sientia propped against their free wrist. Your act would consist of painting a certain someone while using their hand to raise and lower yourself along the canvas. A show of trust while also entertaining the crowd. A perfect act.

Two drones flew low, eyes watchful. You tied an apron on and stuffed your brushes into the front pockets. After picking up a closed container, you made meaningful eye contact with Sientia. They lifted you upon their hand, to which you opened and dumped the container down over the top of the paper. Gray tinted water dripped, soaking into the paper a quarter down.

The brushes were whipped out. Over the course of ten minutes you drove the wide tipped brushes into buckets of pre-mixed colors and swept them across the open plains. Deep cyan, made from an imported liquid watercolor, was your main shade.

You made four quick strokes, forming a ball with spikes coming from one end. One long thin strip vertical from that, though not touching. Then horizontally a fat, stocky, uneven line that was bigger at the end than tip. Two near perfect, wet cyan circles close to the bottom, both dripping towards the edges. You admired your work a second, already out of breath.

A few more blue splotches were added before you switched colors. A bright, watery pink mingled with the blues, mixing into purple in several areas. Embarrassingly, a large, unwanted splat splashed onto the paper, to which you blushed and pretended was on purpose. Then, before you knew it, you were adding the final touches in a gold leaf yellow.

Standing from a distance in Sientia’s hand, you turned your head this way and that, before giving a curt nod and deep bow.

“Tah-dah! It’s finished!”

Sientia let you down, and you were exhausted. Finishing a painting that large in just over ten minutes killed you. You popped your joints and looked hopefully over at the judges. Three of them were scribbling excitedly, while the Xenith was staring at the art. You didn’t know if that was good or bad. Eventually the giant titled their head down and gave their unknown input, too.

“You are so amazingly talented,” swooned Sientia, drawing your attention.

You smiled sheepishly, face very red. “Th-thank you. I… made it for you.”

Affectionate and surprised, Sientia wanted to cuddle you, but the two of you had to step back so the next contestant could work.

The rest of the aliens went by in a blur. You were simply too in your own head to pay hardly any attention. Over analyzing the minute body languages of the judge panel was not fun, and had you guessing- then guessing again- as to what your final score would be.

When the last out-of-breath contestant returned to their owner, the talent segment was done. All Xenith and pets were marched around the outer rim for a final lap, before returning to the inner stadium. Pets were placed back onto their pedestals to rest while the judges compiled their thoughts.

You sat and fidgeted quietly.

Sientia’s head teetered against the edge of the pedestal, cross-shaped eyes focused upon your nervous little form. “It is okay if we don’t win, my pet. Please remember. I’ve had so much fun today! It’s been a very, very, very long time since I’ve walked the circle and presented my companion before all. Do not fret so!”

That made you smile, if only a tidbit. “I know… I just can’t help but have nervous energy! If we won, that would make me sooo happy. It would make you so happy.”

The alien’s face emoted more densely than you’d ever seen before. Their eyes dilated, antennae curled, and they put on a wide, open grin. The smile was added for you, but still. Such emotion.

“I was right to choose you, [Y/N]. You are perfect.”

You nearly cried. Who in your life ever called you perfect? Not your first partner, nor your last. Most certainly not your parents or 'good’ aunt. Nobody was perfect in this world or the next, but the sheer fact someone was inspired enough to utter something so romantic made your heart flutter. You opened your mouth to even attempt a reply, but a noise chimed and echoed through the spacious corridor, flinging everyone around into silence.

A winner had been decided.

You stood and swallowed, hard.

Upon the elongated screens high, high on the metallic walls, the various aliens of the panel chatted softly. The same footage was being aired on enormous screens above the stadium, so everyone was watching in anticipation along with the contestants.

The four judge panel went through each contestant’s score briefly, citing anatomy and subjective thoughts on the talent segment. As they spoke in the local Xenith tongue, recordings of the contestants and their owners were played. You could not understand the talk at all, yet your eyes stayed glued to the video.

You saw yourself. Did your painting really look that bad on screen? 'Stay optimistic,’ you chanted to yourself inwardly. 'The Xenith like abstract art.’

You were given a number score of 68 out of 100. A sigh of relief. That wasn’t totally awful. So far, the scores ranged from 22 through 65, meaning you were somehow ahead. But there were still seven more scores to reveal.

Burning eyes stared down the screens, counting scores. 43, 50, and there it was, 71.

You lost.

Your legs were weak. You found yourself on knees, not even bothering to watch the rest of the judgment. Sientia had turned attention to you as soon as the higher score had been announced.

“Are you okay?” asked Sientia gently.

You sighed and ran a hand through your hair. “Yeah, I guess. Disappointed. Trying not to cry, but okay.”

They paused in thought. Sientia was truly not put off by the results. If only you could hear their telepathic emotions, they could send a wave of comfort and compassion your way. Instead, they had to settle for the physical and verbal. That was fine, too.

You felt something boop your head and flinched. A quick glance up revealed that one of Sientia’s longer antennae had touched you, from where the giant was tilting their head down. It patted you, unsure, the other poking you carefully in the face. It was like a dog coming up to sniff you. Considering the antennae were the most sensitive part of any Xenith, this was perhaps not far off.

“I know you’re trying to comfort me,” you said. “and it makes me happy, but… I don’t think I’ll be totally over this for a few days.”

“When we get home, I will make you your favorite food, and we can put on one of the imported Earth medias you like so much. Will this sooth?”

You couldn’t help the tug at your lips. “Hmmm… that is… acceptable. Thank you. So, who won?”

Out of 15 contestants, you ranked number 8. That was nearly in the dead center. The winner, with a score of 100 (as all contest winners are scored 100), was the four-armed alien who’d thrown the metal ball across the field. You supposed you couldn’t feel too bad about losing to an act like that. After all, even you had been impressed by that contestant’s superior show of strength.

There may have been resentment in your heart, as if you could have somehow done better, but at least Sientia did not blink twice at the results. To be human was to be rampant with emotion, so you could not help but feel a little upset at losing your first competition. But in the end, it was Sientia’s judgment that mattered. And Sientia was overjoyed just to spend time with you doing something they loved. That was something you would simply have to learn, especially if you decided to partake in more pet shows.

The two of you were given your prize, then met up with Antha and Clarence before leaving.

Antha lifted and pressed their knuckle pads to the ground, with Clarence balancing stupendously on their head. “(The two of you looked very good on the field!)”

If a Xenith could blush, Sientia would have. Instead, their antennae twirled bashfully. “(Thank you, friend. [Y/N] did well. I am so very much proud of them.)”

“And how do you feel, companion [Y/N?]”

You were still being carried in Sientia’s hand. You pursed your lips and shrugged. “Disappointed.”

Antha lowered their head closer, as Clarence wanted to comment.

The other human waved and beamed. “Hey, you did super great for your first competition! I’ve been in a few and man, let me tell you… the first time I tripped in front of the whole stadium. Over my own feet, too. Don’t worry so much, you did just fine!”

You couldn’t help but smile awkwardly, a little embarrassed “Thanks, Clarence.”

On the way home, you fulfilled your dream of riding at the top of Sientia’s flat head. Your master had been reluctant and afraid that you would get anxious, but you were adamant. One arm looped tightly around an antenna, the other fiddled with a tiny red participation ribbon, which was your only prize.

“Pet?”

You hummed.

“I’ve thought to ask. You say you painted for me. But, ehm, what have you painted?”

It took a moment to decipher the question. “Oh! Well,” you blushed. “I was trying to paint you! I know it didn’t come out exactly how I expected… that I could have done b-better to impress the judges-”

“Eh! No more talk of judges! I will hang it upon my wall above my nest. Look, we are home.”

Home was lamp-lit and unfit for a human to wander the rooms wide as a veldt, but it was home. The house that you grew up in had never felt like home, nor did the apartment you huddled in on Earth. But this strange, empty cube in the suburbs of the Xenith home world? It had begun to feel like home more so than any sad, brick building every did. You left Earth months ago, and never once began to regret that decision.

Sientia, you master and friend, spoke to you candidly and with compassion. They clothed you lovingly in lavish things, smoothed your anxieties like an iron, and wanted nothing more than to spend as much time as possible with you. They loved you so much that they wanted to lift you high in their palm, to put you in the eye of buzzing drones and chattering aliens.

Even during a time that Sientia was still recovering from loss, they wanted to badly to move forward. You think that they did. You could hear it in their voice now, whenever they spoke sweetly to you, that they knew Inridd'h was smiling. Before the competition, when you were still practicing your abstract thinking, there was a glint in Sientia’s six eyes. It filled them with comfort to watch you work so hard, and with such great passion.

You loved the miniature house Sientia built for you, and the surrounding areas Sientia themselves lived in. But more than anything, you loved Sientia. Sientia was what made the house a home. You prayed you could stay as long as possible, because at this point, you had no intention of leaving.

So, when they two of you returned home, you ate a big dinner, popped in a human movie, and curled up on their nest together. You fell asleep atop their head with a full belly and a healing heart.

EPILOGUE

Sientia held you close to their body. You could feel warm air rising from the nostrils of their chest, as you wobbled and balanced close to their shimmering blue skin.

“Now, you must stay close. Some species may swoop low and pick you up if you move too far. It is perhaps safer to remain in my hand, at first.”

You nodded, apprehensive but excited.

It had been half a year since you decided to become the pet of the great alien species, the Xenith. But you’d yet to experience the awe of being in close quarters with your master’s life work; their livestock. They’d kept you distant from their crop, as giant bugs were most certainly to be predators to little humans. You could be a tasty, blood-filled morsel. The scenario was as tense as introducing the pet chicken to a new barn cat.

You shielded your eyes as they opened the door to a blistering glass greenhouse. After a moment of wiping away involuntary tears, you were able to see again.

“Woooah,” you gasped.

To Sientia this was a large terrarium, but to you it was an expansive jungle. Tall yellow grass sprouted all around, circling the dirt and clays below. Alien ferns spread their fleshy leaves and fronds, sprinkling the air with heavenly scents. A myriad of neon blossoms bloomed among the plants and grasses, dotting it all with pinks, yellows, and whites. You’d never seen anything like this before. Not even at the zoo.

“Is this what all your grasslands look like, out in the wild?”

Sientia physically rumbled. You’d come to distinguish their vibrations and grunts from one another by now, and could see that they found your question funny.

“Some. I try to keep my crop happy.”

“Sooo.. where are all the gross bugs?” you asked, peeking over the side of their palm.

Sientia sat. “Here is one, in the grass.”

With their free hand they plucked the animal right out of hiding. It squeaked and stirred, squirming in surprise. It was much bigger than you, but still smaller than Sientia’s hand. You were used to seeing your master chomp down on these creatures, but they looked so much bigger when wriggling.

Sientia gently set the insect down into their other palm, so the two of you could meet up close. However, they kept a firm finger to the bug’s back, to keep it in place.

It’s stubby, fat antennae twitched and flickered, prickly legs struggling to pull itself out from the weight on its back. Eventually it was still.

“Go on. It’s safe. This is Henhil, you may tell from the markings against the back and legs. This one’s first clutch hatched a few days ago, so we shall not keep her long. You hear this, Henhil?”

Henhil’s mouth parts chewed idly.

“Wow,” you whispered, fascinated.

They really did just… look like giant over sized Earth arthropods. This type seemed like a cross between a fat beetle and a mantas. Her body was covered in a shiny black, and her wings, legs, and face were lined with silver. Two stripes of green cut through the silver on each of her eight legs. Bugs still freaked you out, but this was truly an amazing opportunity. What Earthling got to boast getting up close and personal with Permian era insects?

“She’s very pretty.”

Henhil started to wriggle again, her energy returning. You stumbled away, mindful of the mouth, as Sientia went ahead and plopped her back into place.

“On, then. Back to your children. Is this what you were expecting [Y/N?]”

You sat down, the heat exhausting you and making you sweat like a pig. “Well, it’s definitely something you’d like to do. I mean, raising bugs.”

“Then you think you would truly like to utilize such animals in a future competition?”

In the excitement you’d nearly forgotten the real reason Sientia was introducing the bugs to you at all. You’d been in two competitions now, and had won neither. Somehow, the concept of horseback riding continued to come up. Sientia was fascinated by the horse. There were no horses imported off planet, which was a shame. The next best thing where Sientia’s crop of livestock.

The insects were horse sized, give or take. Some had a body shape well off enough to accommodate a way of riding comfortably. Of course, they were being bred and raised to eat. Not ridden. But that didn’t mean that some of the younger one’s couldn’t be coaxed into allowing a human rider onto their backs. Henhil’s new clutch was likely a good place to start.

So, did you think you’d be able to get over your squeamishness and ride a big ol’ bug for the sake of winning? Absolutely. Winning wasn’t everything, but it would sure feel great to win. Or, if not win, to at least get second place. You know it would delight Sientia.

“I think I’d like to try. Maybe tomorrow, when you show me her mate, we can take a peek at the babies too?” you shuttered. “Are they like… grubs?”

The translator did not translate 'grub’ very well, but Sientia got the gist.

“Somewhat. Let’s go inside, you appear over exerted.”

Sientia brought you to their face and nestled you gently as you gave a smooch on their 'nose.’ Then, they stood and absconded from the sweltering greenhouse.

[highqueenofelfhame]

All I Ask Of You - 14

I can't escape the way, I love you I don't want to, but I love you I love you - Billie Eilish 

For the first time in her life, Aelin gave absolutely no fucks about anything. She laid on her couch and drank and drank until she was ranked, then took her pain medicine to further dull the pain. The pain in her shoulder, the pain in her head, the constricting pain of her heart. 

It was hard to not doing anything at all. She had always been a busy body, always training, always trying to get better at every skill under her belt and learn new ones. The military had been her life since she was eighteen. So many years of her life dedicated to her country, and just as she had gotten the job she truly deserved as part of the Cadre, that had been taken away from her, too. 

Sam. Her parents. Her job. Rowan. 

It was hard to wrap her head around it. Most days she had wished so desperately that she had been killed by Hamel or one of his lackeys. It would have hurt far, far less than this. 

Someone began pounding on her door, and she didn’t bother moving. 

“Aelin!” Fenrys. Her eyes shifted to the door, and she waited a moment before yelling that he could come in. When he entered, he stopped dead in his tracks. He hadn’t been over yet — Aelin insisted to everyone that she was fine, everything was fine. And then she would drown herself in alcohol. 

That he was shocked by her appearance would be an understatement judging by the look on his face. She knew how she looked. Her hair was in a messy bun on top of her head, half of it falling out and loose golden strands covered her face. The sweatpants she wore were huge on her — she hated that they were Rowan’s and that they were her favorites — and the t-shirt she wore was baggy and probably had stains. Not to mention the puffiness and dark circles under her eyes. Then there was the fact that she was clutching a bottle of whiskey to her chest. 

“Aelin. What are you...are you okay?” With one finger, she spun the lid of the whiskey off, watching as it bounced onto the floor and rolled over to his feet. Her eyes stayed fixed on the screen as she took a long drink. It took her a moment, but she finally shifted her eyes to him when he sat down on the edge of the coffee table, reaching out to brush her hair back. 

It wasn’t like her. Falling apart like this, being a mess, getting drunk day in and day out to numb any of the pain. She had never been this kind of girl, not even when her parents had died because she hadn’t wanted to disappoint them. But with Rowan...the pain was so intense and terrible that it made the pain in her shoulder feel numb. The alcohol was all that worked to ease her mind, despite how dizzy she was on a daily basis. 

“I’m fine,” she said, but her words were slurred. Aelin’s eyes fluttered shut as she tried to get more comfortable on the couch, wincing when pain shot through her shoulder, down her back, and across her shoulder blades. She gave up and slumped back down. “Just swell.” 

“Ace...”

“Like what was it? Y’know?” She slung her hand out to the side, whiskey sloshing out of the bottle onto the floor. Aelin didn’t flinch. Fenrys, however, sighed and made his way to the kitchen only to return with towels. He kneeled on the floor and cleaned up the mess, then sat back on his heels and smoothed his hand over her hair. “Like what did I do? How do you tell someone you love them and leave them?” A pause. “ I hate him.” 

“I know, love.” 

“I hate him.” This time when she spoke, her voice cracked and tears began to openly flow down her face. 

~*~ 

Fenrys had made her take a bath, actually standing in the bathroom with her and helping her where her shoulder was concerned. He’d helped her clean the surgical wounds, helped her wash her hair. They were close enough that she didn’t care if he saw her naked, she was just thankful for the help. 

The next morning, she looked a little better. Her hair was clean but still in a ponytail, she still wore a pair of Rowan’s sweats and a T-shirt from her college. But overall she looked better. She was debating calling Fen to ask him to bring her food when someone knocked on the door. 

“Oh thank the gods,” she muttered under her breath, unlocking the door. “I was just about to call y—“ The way her nostrils flared was entirely involuntary. Rowan stood in the doorway, holding a bag of food and a drink in his hands. 

“I figured you hadn’t eaten breakfast yet. I’m sure your shoulder makes it hard.” His voice was quiet, his accent lilting and beautiful, curling over some sounds and crashing over others. Aelin’s jaw set and she stared at the bag in his hands.

“What is it.” Not a question, but a demand. 

“Chocolate croissant, chocolate hazelnut croissant, a cinnamon roll. Chocolate milk. I didn’t know what you’d be hungry for but they used to be your favorites so.” Rowan kept standing awkwardly in the doorway until she sighed, her eyes fluttering shut and she stepped aside to let him in. He sat down on the couch and placed her food on the coffee table, and when she sat down she pulled the chocolate hazelnut croissant out of the bag, curled up in the corner of the couch, and quietly munched while she stared blankly at the TV.

Rowan shifted where he sat, one arm resting on the back of the couch, the other on the armrest. Aelin could feel him looking at her but she refused to look at him. Refused to look at his stupid eyes and his stupid face and his stupid tattoo and listen to his stupid voice with that stupid accent. Her eyes stayed focused on the TV that was playing Golden Girls reruns, the volume so low she could barely hear. There was still a bottle of whiskey on the coffee table next to her pain medication. She could feel him looking at that, too. 

It was suffocating, sitting in this room with him. Sitting on the couch they had spent too many nights curled up watching movies, making love on, reading with her head in his lap or his in hers. Painful that she couldn’t find any words to say to him, that he couldn’t seem to find any for her. Aelin didn’t even understand why he was here. He didn’t want to be with her. So why come over at all?

She kept nibbling on the croissant, hating that it was so good. That it was from her favorite bakery in downtown Orynth, that downtown was so far away from his apartment that she knew he had gone way out of the way to pick it up for her. She had just opened her mouth to ask him why he was there when he finally spoke, his fingers drumming on the back of the couch. 

“I wanted to come see you before we left.” It was that same, soft tone. The way that people talk to small animals so that they don’t spook and run away. The way a venus flytrap likely lures in it’s prey only to snap them in half. 

Aelin paused her chewing for a moment before she swallowed slowly. She licked her lips and leaned forward, setting the croissant on the table and sat back up, adjusting the strap on her sling. It was a ridiculous contraption, one that bound her arm to her body so that it had no chance of moving. She hated it. 

“You...wanted to see me...before you left.” She found herself at a loss and she finally turned to face him. “Do you remember the time that I risked my career and my life, which -- by the way -- I had no intention of walking out of that house. You were going to get out. And then I fucked up my shoulder so bad that I had to have another insanely painful surgery that will leave a huge scar on my shoulder. I did all of that for you. Oh,” she started laughing, a dry sort of laugh that had no amusement or joy. “Do you remember that time that I woke up in the hospital and you told me you loved me and then said you didn’t want to be with me? Because I remember. You wanted to see me before you left? Gods, Rowan. Fuck off.” 

His jaw was clenched and he stared down at his hands that were in his lap as he looked up at her, saying her name so softly that she almost missed it. She hated how beautiful it always sounded coming off his lips. 

“It’s cruel. For you to come here? It’s fucking cruel,” she was crying by then, frustrated and shaking her head. When he got up and approached her she shoved him with her good arm. “Thank you for the pastries. Now please get out of my apartment because I can’t breathe with you standing so close to me.”

And then she disappeared into her bedroom, the door slamming behind her. 

~*~

It had been six months since the rest of the Cadre had shipped out, and Aelin was finally on a plane to join them. It had taken a lot of physical therapy, but she had most of her mobility back. When she had tried to train to work on her hand to hand combat, there hadn’t been too much she’d been unable to do, and what she wasn’t able to do with her right arm, she could compensate with her left. It had taken a month for her to get cleared and she had cried when she got the okay to join the guys in Wendlyn. 

Dressed in the more casual of her military uniforms, she received multiple head bows and thanks from people as she walked past with her backpack over her shoulders. It was always nice to feel recognized for her service, but she didn’t do it for attention. She did it because she loved Terrasen, and she would go wherever they needed her to. 

When she walked out into baggage claim, she stood on her toes to look for Fenrys. When she finally spotted him -- he was also in his uniform -- she took off running and launched herself into his arms. He was her best friend, and she hadn’t seen him in entirely too long. Six months was a long time to go without seeing the only person that kept your head screwed on right. 

“Gods, I missed you so much,” she said into his neck. His arms squeezed her sides as he dropped her back onto her feet. 

“Show me the arm, show me the arm,” he tugged on her hand like a child, and her eyes rolled. Still, she showed him the full range of movement by making fake punches. 

“I can still kick your ass,” she pointed out, nudging him with her elbow as they left the airport. Fenrys laughed out loud, throwing his arm around her shoulders as she breathed in the warm air. The base they were at was in Doranelle, the buildings built of stone and surrounded by multiple rivers. It was stunning, and as they walked into the barracks she sighed with content. It was so, so much better than the shanty town in the wastes. Not as good as her apartment in Rifthold or her home in Terrasen, but still better than sleeping in a shack. 

She tossed her bag onto one of the bunks and changed into civilian clothes, making jokes and catching up with Fenrys while they walked across one of the large bridges. The water below was crystal clear, fish swimming up current and near the shore, children splashed and played. 

Terrasen had an alliance with Wendlyn, and the Cadre was there to help train new special force teams in all aspects. It was gruelling training, extremely exhausting. Aelin remembered her least favorite tests being drown-proofing and of course, like everyone always agreed, Hell Week. 

Drown-proofing was brutal because they bound you at the hands at feet and then you were pushed into a pool. They made you tread water, swim, do flips, retrieve objects, all while entirely tied up. For Aelin, it had been one of the hardest training exercises because she was the only woman amongst, literally, a sea of men. They gave her hell, they hit on her, were completely and utterly gross to her, It wasn’t until Rowan, Chief Petty Officer at the time, quite literally kicked their asses by making them spar with him in a ring. When he finished with the last guy, he told them that if he caught them treating Aelin any different because she was a woman again, he wouldn’t hesitate to make their lives even more of a Hell than they already were. 

They left her alone after that. Especially once she got in the ring and was able to kick all their asses with the exception of Rowan. 

The second worst part had been Hell Week, which was as bad as it sounds. Everyone was constantly moving, constantly training, and you were allotted four hours of sleep. For the entire week. You spend the week doing everything else you’d done through training, miles long open ocean swims, drown-proofing, obstacle courses, mile long runs. You ran on little food, barely enough water, and so little sleep that by the end you were so exhausted it took all your energy to not fall over. Aelin didn’t envy the poor bastards that were going through that training now. 

The sun had just begun to set when they walked into a bar, Connall and Vaughan immediately running to wrap her in an embrace. She was lucky to have these guys, she decided. It didn’t hurt that they were all easy on the eyes. So many women would want her position, but only if that position was on top of one of the men in the Cadre. 

Lorcan even held out a fist for her to bump, a slight smile to his mouth. It almost made Aelin suspicious seeing as how they had always been at odds with each other. He’d never been her biggest fan, but as her commander she knew he was glad that she’d made a successful recovery. 

“Do you want a drink?” She asked Fen, leaning close enough that her mouth almost brushed his ear because of how loud it was. The bar was absolutely packed. Fenrys shook his head, holding up the beer in his hand and then Aelin was working her way through the crowd. She accidentally bumped into a pretty brunette and apologized profusely. The girl had offered her a smile and said it was okay before disappearing through the throngs of people. 

After she got her drink, she squeezed back to their table with her straw between her teeth when she saw him standing beside Lorcan, saying something in his ear while that same pretty brunette from earlier stood next to him with her fingers on his elbow. 

All of the blood drained out of her body. The glass in her hand fell from her fingers and crashed into pieces on the floor, but she didn’t care. She pressed her hands against her stomach, forcing herself to take deep breaths. Rowan. With another woman. Standing less than twenty feet away from her. 

Aelin couldn’t speak, she couldn’t think, she couldn’t breathe. Her blood was pooling in her feet because it surely wasn’t coursing through her veins anymore and her mind was lost and her breaths were short and ragged and shallow. 

Six months. It had been six months and she was still pining over him like an idiot while he was doing whatever with other women. She couldn’t even think about what he’d been doing - the imagery of Rowan tangled in someone else’s body made her feel physically sick. 

Aelin forced herself to walk toward the table and when Rowan saw her the color drained from his face. Interesting. It seemed that he didn’t know she would be coming today. Much like she didn’t know he was with someone else. Funny how life works out. 

“I um,” she pointed vaguely behind her, shaking her head and then wrapping her arms around her stomach. “I dropped my glass back there, can one of you...I don’t know, tell someone?” Her eyes shifted to Rowan’s for less than a second. “I’m not feeling well, I think I’m going to walk back.” 

And then she was shoving her way out of the building, pressing her palms against the white stone to somehow ground herself as she took deep breaths. Before she knew it, she was sprinting to the end of the building to vomit into the grass, the acid burning her throat as it clawed her way out. She was stupid. So, so, rutting stupid. So godsdamend --

A hand braced her back, pulled her hair off her neck and blew cool air onto her skin where she’d started getting clammy. Knowing it was Fen, she let him rub up and down her spine while she stayed with her hands on her knees, eyes shut as she tried to regulate her breathing. It took everything she had to calm herself, to calm the fire roaring between her skull and in her veins before she finally stood and wiped her mouth off. Her hands were braced on her hips and his fingers were sliding over her arms in an attempt to calm her down. With her eyes still closed she leaned back against his chest, focusing still on breathing with her arms wrapped around her body. 

His forehead rested against the crown of her head for a moment, fingers still moving in soothing motions over her arms. 

His hand brushed her hair off her neck again, more cool air blowing against her too-hot skin. And then lips were pressed to the nape of her neck, the slope of her neck, and then the scar from her surgery. Aelin froze, her body tensing immediately. Not Fenrys. Fenrys didn’t kiss her like that. There was only one person on the planet that had ever kissed her so intimately, had ever pressed kisses along her back and neck when she was stressed or her anxiety was bad. 

When she spun on her heel, all she could do was shake her head at him. His eyes fell shut and he tucked his bottom lip between his teeth. She hated him. Hated how perfect he was, how beautiful he was, how soft his mouth had been on her skin. She hated the shade of his hair that perfectly reflected the moon, hated the green of his eyes and how they always seemed to know what she was thinking. 

She loved him. And she hated it. 

 “Your girlfriend probably wouldn’t like you touching me like that, but I guess you don’t really care if you’re committed to someone or not do you?” It was a low blow. Such a low blow and the hurt immediately clouded his face, the way his eyes flashed painfully. 

“Aelin--” He’d started to say with an arm reached out for her, but as if to prove her point, the pretty girl stepped out of the bar. 

“Rowan?” His eyes fell shut and he ran his hand over the back of his head. 

“Please, just do two favors, yeah? Leave me the fuck alone and go to hell.” 

When she started walking down the street, her arms were hugging her body again. She didn’t think she was breaking apart this time. Aelin could feel it in every single bone. Every tendon and ligament had snapped,  every organ was falling out of the hole in her neck, all of her bones were shattered and falling to the ground. 

If you were to ask Aelin what her pain was on a scale of one to ten, it would be a ten. The worst pain she had ever felt. 

@mariamuses @starseternalnighttriumphant @city-of-fae who tf else am i supposed to tag in this idk fam

[thoughtfullyyoungduck]

skateboard kid

Summary: hc about Richie being injured and Stan and Bill taking care of him 

A/N: this was requested by @mpmarypoppins she has a blog where she writes amazing imagines about Barry and IT so check that out I swear she’s amazing: @fangirl-imagines

- So first off Richie is a dumbass even as an adult 

 - He pulled a muscle in his upper leg and contracted a huge bruise  on his cheek - For the dumbest reason too

 - After ending his show just the night before, a kid that couldn’t have been older than 9 had showed up in the ally where Richie was supposed to leave the venue through. Richie wanted to be kind, and so he had offered to take a picture with the kid he thought was there to see him. The kid had laughed saying he didn’t need a picture with a comedian who wasn’t even funny and who his parents were a fan off. He had called Richie old and washed up

- which Richie, the idiot, couldn’t have just let go. He had looked up furious towards the kid, before noticing that he was holding a skateboard. Richie had smirked and told him that old man or not, he was still a pro at skateboarding, something he had picked up during high school, and he was better than him by a mile.

 - Spoiler alert, he was. At least, he was until the damn kid got mad and pushed him back. Richie had fallen over the skateboard, taking a heavy tumble towards the ground, that had felt less than soft. He had pulled a muscle in his upper leg, while also contracting a huge bruise on his cheek. Instantly the kid felt the heat and ran off without so much of a second thought, luckily his manager was there, who called the ambulance immediately. 

 - Not only was it embarrassing to Richie, whose fans had seen the way he was rolled into the ambulance, but it had also made sure that Bill and Stan went batshit crazy protective boyfriends on his ass. 

 -  Stan had insisted on being both Richie and Bill’s emergency contact, because Richie almost never picked up his phone, and Bill would panic way too much. - So once Richie makes I’m into the hospital, his contact needs to be called

- Richie had been in the hospital way too many times before so everyone knows Stan - And no nurse ever wants to call Stan 

 - Because Stan might laugh at Bill saying he panics too much, but really, he is just as bad 

 - So anyway the nurses pick straws and  the one unlucky bastard has the misfortune

 - Stan recognises the number straight away and his breathing picks up a little

 - And when the nurse tells him that Richie is injured, he rushes out his office straight away 

 - Which he never, ever does, cause he hates leaving early

 - He owns his own company by the way, and he just feels like if he leaves the whole place will fall apart

 - But as soon as he hears that Richie is in the hospital, and he’s in a lot of pain he’s out

 - He call Bill on his way to the car and Bill too drops everything to go to the hospital 

 - He was at a meeting with his publisher and it was really important, but nothing is as important to him as his two boyfriends 

 - When they finally make it to hospital, Richie is pretty drugged up on painkillers

 - So he’s pretty much laughing at everything with his nurse, who he has decided he absolutely adores 

 - ‘So my girlfriend caught me jacking off to her best friends Facebook page’ - And he starts laughing 

 - The nurse is laughing too because it was so funny to see him laugh at his own jokes before he could even tell them 

 - And then Bill and Stan show, while rolling their eyes because that was so dumb, and Richie instantly wants to jump up and hug them, he just makes grabby hand at them 

- Bill nearly melts to a puddle because of how cute Richie is being - Stan nearly melts inside but he keeps it together on the outside

 - Stan is also instantly question the nurse to figure out what exactly is wrong and what they need to do to make it better. He keeps Looking at Richie from the Conner of his eyes though

 - Bill sits on the side of Richie’s bed, grabbing his hand tightly and pressing a kiss to his temple.

 - The nurse says that he pulled a muscle pretty bad, so it would take about 10 weeks for it to heal and he needed to rest for at least 7 weeks

 - He would also need some physiotherapist to get used to using the muscle again

 - Stan winces because Richie was going to hate laying still for that long, not to mention that he was also going to be in so much pain as soon as the drugs wore off.

 - Richie is allowed to leave, so after struggling for a good 3 hours they finally make it home.

 - By that time Richie is coming to his senses, and he overhears Stan telling Bill that he was going to need to lay still for at least 7 weeks 

- And Richie just knows that he was not going to survive that long 

 - Now we’re two weeks in the long 7 weeks, and Richie just about had it - He loves Stan and Bill with all his heart, but he can’t stand them at the moment 

 - He never had any alone time

 - Stan had taking his work home and was regulating his office from besides Richie’s bed, where he was positioned, and in the very brief moments he had to go to work, he made sure that Bill was home. 

 - And when Bill was done with going to meetings and was home, which was like always because Bill is a writer, he spent all- which was like always because Bill is a writer, he spent all his free time with Richie too

 - They always make his food, do all his chores for him, grab a cool cloth to place on his forehead to help cool him down when the pain he’s too much, Bill reads his new story to him and asks Richie for ideas, Stan will watch movies with him.... 

 - And again Richie loves them both, but any time he so much as reaches his hand out to grab his phone, Bill and Stan are already on his case about him needing to keep still because he was injured

 - And he knows his boyfriends are just worried and he is in a lot of pain but for fuck sake he was just grabbing his phone 

 - And so after only two weeks a fight breaks out 

 - Which was to be expected

 - It’s like this cage fight Richie vs Bill and Stan 

 - Richie freaks out because Bill wouldn’t let him go to the bathroom without him, to which Richie started screaming that he wasn’t a toddler for fuck sake

 - Which made Bill mad too 

- ‘All we’re doing is helping you Richie’, he said with determination is his voice 

- ‘Yeah well you’re not, I love you, but I don’t need you guys here every minute of every fucking day’. Richie had screamed 

 - Stan had come into the room at this point too, he was cooking, and tried to break up the fight. 

 - Instead he got pulled in too 

- ‘Richie, Bill’s right we would leave you alone if we knew that you wouldn’t be an idiot and stay in bed’. Stan replied rather harsly, but it was just because he cared about Richie.

 - ‘Oh so know I’m the idiot because some kid pushes me?’ Richie spat with venom in his voice   

-  Stan shook his head, ‘that’s not what I meant Rich please, don’t blow this up’ 

- But the damage had already been done and Richie refused to stay in bed while Stan and Bill were still there 

 - ‘Fine, we’ll leave you alone for the night, if that’s what you want’. Bill said 

 - Even though that’s really not a good idea

 -  Nighttime is usually the one time they all have time for one another, which is why it’s their ritual to always, no Mather what sleep in the same bed with each other 

- So know Richie is mad, in pain and deeply sad 

 - Because he didn’t want to sleep alone 

 - But just like Stan, Richie is too stubborn for his own good and he won’t ask Stan or Bill to stay.

 - He never sleeps well when He sleeps alone, but his medicine kick in so he falls asleep pretty fast.

 - And he had a horrible dream 

 - He jumps up awake, but because neither Stan or Bill is there with him he panics 

- Because I’m his dream Stan got hurt really bad.

 - He takes a look at his clock and sees that it’s 4:30.

 - He knows that Stan will most likely wake up in an hour and check up on him, because Stan is a worrier and no Mather how mad he got he would never want Richie to be in pain, but he can’t wait that long because at this point he doesn’t know if it was just a dream or reality 

 - So he gets out of bed fast, and the pain in leg is excruciating, but he carries on through 

- He calls out to Stan and even he recognizes that he sounds like he’s about 5 seconds from having a mental breakdown

 - He throws the door open and sees Stan’s head lifting up slightly, looking disoriented, most likely because he was just roughly awakened 

 - And Richie breaths a breath of relief, but then he doesn’t see Bill 

 - Where the hell is Bill? 

 - Richie starts panicking thinking maybe Bill was the one that got injured 

 - But then Bill appears from behind Richie, and he looks way more awake and dressed then Stan, he also seems really confused 

 - Suddenly it seems that Stan has come to his senses because he jumps up and just runs towards Richie 

 - ‘Richie, what are you doing up, get in the bed right now’! Stan says panicked and his breathing picks up a little 

- Richie is instantly propped up against the headboard of the bed, and is being covered up by blankets and pillows

 - He’s basically being tucked in by both Stan and Bill 

 - But Richie is not calming down and he reaches out towards Stan and grabs his wrist pulling him forward. 

 - Stan rips one hand loose to hold himself up against the headboard, but he does lean in and wraps Richie in a hug when Richie starts sobbing.

-  Richie had one arm around Stan’s middle and with his free hand he holds Bill’s

 - ‘I’m sorry, I’m so sorry for being mad at you guys, I know you just love me. Oh god I’m so sorry.’ 

 - Stan and Bill share a worried glance 

 - ‘What’s wrong baby, just tell us what’s wrong, it’s gonna be okay.’ Stan says really softly

 - ‘Yeah sweetheart, it’s okay, we’re really sorry too.’ 

 - Stan and Bill both shuffle under the covers with Richie, wrapping both of their arms around him. 

 - Their feet are just a tangled mess

 - Richie has his head on Stan’s chest, just listening to his heartbeat, while Bill presses kisses to the back of his head. 

 - ‘I had a dream Stan got hurt so I just wanted to see he was okay, and when I came here Bill was the one that was gone, so I was panicking that Bill was the one that got hurt.’ Richie whispered, suddenly feeling embarrassed.

 - ‘We didn’t want you to be alone Rich, so me and Stan took turn staying with you. I just left to go the bathroom and when I got back you were gone and I heard you calling out to Stan. That was the only time during the night that you were alone’. Bill said softly, continuing to press kisses against his hair.

 - Yeah you dumbass, the only one that is injured is you.’ Stan said snickering, but Richie heard the fondness in his voice. 

 - Richie headed Bill snickering against the back his head.

 - Richie just shrugged and snuggled closer to his boyfriends

 - ‘Hey, for the sake of making up, does anyone want to duck my dick’? 

 - ‘Richie Tozier I swear’ 

 - ‘Sure’, Could be heard at the same time

[fanficsandfluff]

Emotions Get the Better (8)

This one’s a bit longer than my other installments, I hope you all like it! I also really hope I’m not making Arthur too out of character. But y’all will let me know.

~~~~

It was date night!

You were excited and for once you didn’t feel much shame over how you felt. It was nice. You did realize the day before that you didn’t even give Arthur a real time to show up, so you didn’t know how to plan the dinner so everything was ready in time. 

You pulled your hair up into a bun and rolled the sleeves of your sweater up and got to cooking. While you were cooking, you were listening to a talk radio channel you frequented, usually because they had funny people on the show. And tonight was a hilarious comedian from another state, and he had you laughing out loud as you prepared dinner. 

You let out a laugh just as you put lamb chops into the pan to start cooking, sizzling as they hit the butter, and you just about missed the knock at your door. You cursed under your breath as hot butter splattered onto your arm when you put in another chop, “Coming!” you yelled as you left your station and went to the door. 

You opened up and there was Arthur, dressed in a button down shirt, vest, and dress pants. It looked like the same thing he wore to Pogo’s. You smiled, “Hi! Come on in, make yourself at home. I just gotta finish up in the kitchen, sorry,” and you went off to watch the potatoes that were probably about to boil over on the stove. 

Arthur chuckled at her erratic nature. He almost didn’t show up, mostly because he kept thinking he dreamt his interaction with Y/N in his doorway. But he pushed himself to come to the written address and now he was very happy he did. He put his shoes neatly next to the other by the door and stepped inside. The smell of the food made his mouth water. And he took a little walk inside her living room, looking at all the pictures she had and what her couch looked like and at the pattern on the rug. Everything. And he liked how everything looked. 

“Can I help with anything?” Arthur asked, approaching you in the kitchen.

“No, I’m fine. I got this under control.”

“You sure?”

You looked over your shoulder at him and smiled, “Actually, can you set the table? Everything’s over there,” you nodded to a spot on your kitchen countertop where you had stacked what needed to go onto the table but never made it. Arthur happily obliged. 

“Wanna hear something funny?” you spoke louder over the radio currently on commercial break, mashing potatoes as you went, “I almost expected you to come in your clown outfit.”

Arthur chuckled, “Why would you expect that?”

“I dunno, my mind is just weird.”

“Well,” Arthur set the forks out at each plate and reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out a red nose, “I do always have this on me.”

You looked over and laughed pretty loudly, “Oho my god! That’s amazing!” and you set the potatoes aside to finish off your lamb chops in the oven. 

Arthur seemed emboldened by your laugh, so he stuck the nose on and cartoonishly started to walk towards you again. You didn’t pay him much mind, focusing on transferring roasted brussel sprouts into a dish. Then you saw him twirl and take one of your ladles hanging from its place on your kitchen wall, positioning it like a fencing sword in front of him. 

You looked at him like he was a little insane, “Aaaalright, D’Artagnan,” you chuckled and held the dish with the veggie out in front of you, “Can you bring this to the table, please?”

Arthur, or should you say Carnival, saluted you and took the dish from your hands. 

You finished up the rest of the meal and went to join Arthur at the table. He pulled off the red nose before he sat, smiling at you. 

“Thank you for coming,” you told him. You wanted to say thank you again for when he saved your life, but you just didn’t want to bring that up.

“Thanks for the invitation,” and he started filling his plate with food.

You both took your first bites, and Arthur said, “Everything’s delicious.”

“Really? Thanks, I thought I oversalted the potatoes and the lamb was kinda tough--”

“Delicious,” Arthur said again, grinning at your overreaction, “I never eat like this at home.” 

There was another quiet filled by the radio still talking. The comedian was still going, and you snorted into your drink when you were taking a sip, quickly grabbing a napkin to cover your increasingly red face. Arthur looked up.

“Is everything ok?”

“Y-Yeahah... yeah, sorry,” you chuckled, wiping your nose and mouth off, “It’s just.. the radio. You ever listen to this? It’s called Comedic Comedians Nightly. Not a very creative name, I know. But I think you’d like it. They bring on new comedians every night.”

“I haven’t heard of it. I mostly just watch the Murray Franklin show.”

“Oh, you’re a fan?”

“Yeah. Do you like him?”

“Actually, I’ve never really watched his show,” you admitted and Arthur looked shocked and betrayed all at once, which made you laugh again, “I knohow, I know! It’s like a staple for every Gothamite. I just don’t like the whole guest interview stuff, sue me.”

“We can watch him tonight, if you’d like,” Arthur immediately offered, “Just watch the opening bit he does with his standup. You’ll like it.”

You had to smile and you pretended to think about it, “Weeellllll....” you watched his face contort in anticipation of your answer, “Sure, why not.”

Arthur smiled in relief, his whole body relaxing. The two of you continued to eat the dinner you’d prepared. 

“You know what’s weird, ever since that night, I always feel like there’s someone following me whenever I go to work,” very abrupt change of topic, but you just had to talk about your experience. You kept it bottled up ever since it happened.

Arthur tensed up when Y/N mentioned that. He looked right at her. How was he going to say that maybe that feeling was real? How would he admit that he’d been tailing her a few days out of the week, not all of them. He knew it wasn’t all the time. Just a couple times. He knew where she worked, he just wanted to make sure she made it safely. She was the only person in so, so long that treated him like he was a normal human being, that actually liked him. Would she get mad? She wouldn’t want to see you again. Oh fuck, you’re so fucking stupid, you fucking perverted creep...

Arthur let out a laugh, and then a hand flew to his mouth. You stared at him, confused. 

“Uhumm.. was that funny?” you asked, a little hurt that he would think your concern was amusing; and you knew he wasn’t laughing at the soup commercial playing from the radio. 

Arthur shook his head and he laughed again, almost doubling over from it. Now it was an almost continuous stream. 

“Arthur?” you grew concerned once you saw him loop a hand around his throat and a choking noise made its way through the laughter. It was strained, definitely. His eyes showed no joy a normal laugh would produce. He kept shaking his head and he held out an arm to stop you when you made the move to stand up, the other one digging through his pockets. 

The laugh died down to chuckles and Arthur kept trying to clear his throat as he finally pulled out, with shaking hands, a white card. 

“I-I’m sohoaha--- sorry, hehehe...”

He extended his hand to you with the card in it, and you reached across the table and took it.

Forgive my laughter. I have a condition. (more on back)

You looked up at Arthur, mouth agape. But you turned the card over as he had to ride out the last of his laughs. When you finished reading the card, he’d stopped laughing. He looked disgraced, like a kicked puppy; his head hung low, eyes not wanting to meet yours.

“Arthur, I... I didn’t know, I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. Please. You didn’t do anything.”

“You live with this? Every day?” you couldn’t believe this was a real mental issue and that someone so kind had to experience this on a daily basis. 

Arthur nodded his head in response. 

“Is it painful?”

Arthur looked up at you for the first time since his outburst and he nodded once more. You frowned and looked at the card in your hands. You just noticed it says to return it after reading. He gives this card to people as an excuse for something completely out of his control. The brain injury part of the card also concerned you. It sickened you, thinking of the ways people must treat him out in public if this happened out of nowhere. 

“Are you okay now? Do you need anything?” you stood up anyway, ready to get him something. 

“No,” Arthur said.

You sighed and handed his card back to him. 

“I’m better now. It passes.”

You went into the kitchen and filled a glass with water and brought it back to him. 

“Thank you,” he took the glass from you, his fingers brushing over the back of your hand as he took it. You nodded and sat back down, appetite still there but diminished. Even Arthur kept eating after he drank the water. The two of you were full eventually, and that’s when you started clearing the plates. Arthur stood and helped you put the dishes into the sink. 

“Don’t feel bad for me,” Arthur said when he was right beside you by the sink. 

You looked up at him and said, “Well, I do. I feel bad that you have to live with this horrible... thing! Is there anything I can do? Is there like a procedure I can follow if you have another outburst to kind of lessen it, or...?”

Arthur had never heard someone act so concerned about his condition before this moment. Not even his own mother ever offered to comfort him if he was going through an attack. 

“I don’t think so--- no one’s ever tried,” he answered honestly. 

You felt worse for him and you gently placed a hand on his chest, “I’ll figure something out, then. To help,” and you brushed the material of his vest with your thumb before you took a breath and said, “I’ll be right back,” and you headed off to your bathroom. 

It was medication time, so you opened your medicine cabinet and took the medicine collectively, washing them down with some sink water cupped in your hand. You took an extra three or four minutes to yourself in the bathroom, taking deep breaths and trying to center yourself. Arthur probably didn’t want to talk about his condition and by you bringing it up, it was making him uncomfortable. Don’t be so insensitive. Be playful with him. It seemed he liked it earlier when you were loose and letting him be himself. 

You exited the bathroom and heard running water, so you went back to the kitchen, seeing Arthur busy washing the dishes. What a sweetheart, you almost squealed. Instead you walked as close to him as possible without him noticing you from behind and said, “Did I say you could wash the dishes?”

Arthur jumped and spun around, one sudsy hand splashing some water on your shirt, “Sorry, sorry, I was just trying to help..”

You chuckled and took the plate from his hand and then the sponge from the other, “You did. Thank you so much. Make yourself comfortable in the living room, I’ll be there in a sec,” you flicked your now wet fingers in his direction as retaliation for him getting your sweater wet. He winced when some water hit his face and you laughed softly. 

Arthur smiled and he felt his heart was about to burst. Her cadence was so gentle, so playful, and it made him not want to ever stop looking at her smiling face. 

“You really do have a great laugh,” he complimented, leaning against the counter beside the sink.

“Yes, you’ve told me that,” you blushed, ducking your head so your focus remained on the dishes. 

“It’s true though. It’s one of the most attractive things I’ve ever heard.”

“Aharthur...” you said in a tone of warning, but your blushing cheeks and smile betrayed that sentiment. Fitting for a clown and coincidentally a guy who suffers from a laughing condition to say that he finds laughs attractive. 

“You’re distracting me,” you said softly, grinning when you glanced up at him. 

“Heh,” Arthur smiled, rubbing the back of his neck. He looked at a clock on the wall and said, “I’ll go get your TV ready. Murray’s almost on.”

“Sure, I’ll be right there,” you smiled back at Arthur. You let out a breath when he left the kitchen, still smiling goofily. He was certainly getting better at flirting.

You finished the dishes and dried your hands on a dish towel before running over to the couch when you heard the opening theme. You folded your legs under you and got comfy on one side of the couch, Arthur sitting upright at the other. He draped an arm over the back of the couch. 

“You know, if you still don’t like Murray after tonight, I don’t see how we can get along anymore,” Arthur said, clearly making a joke.

You chuckled and prodded his thigh with your socked foot, “We’ll just have to watch the show and see, then, won’t we?”

You both settled in to watch the show, and Murray Franklin came out to a raucous applause from his live audience. Arthur seemed in his own world by this point, you could tell just by looking at him. His eyes sort of glossed over and his smile softened. You heard the audience make its first laugh of the night and you realized you were watching Arthur more than you were watching the show.

The jokes he made were very family friendly. A lot of them relied on puns. Arthur was chuckling happily to himself, and you really didn’t find Murray Franklin’s work very funny. A few times he made you smile, but that was the extent of it. 

Arthur seemed to be knocked out of his reverie and noticed when you wouldn’t laugh at a joke the studio audience went crazy for. 

He started to doubt himself. Well, he was certainly joking before about not getting along with her. But... Murray is a part of who he is. He grew up with him on the television screen being admired and loved by so many people. He was the male voice in the household when there was no other one besides his own. Arthur rifled through his jacket pocket until he pulled out a cigarette and a lighter. He stuck one in his mouth and looked at you, “May I?”

You looked over and nodded, “Yeah, go ahead. I don’t mind.”

Arthur took his first puff and he visibly tried to relax. You were on him more than on the show at this point. You could tell he was hitting the cigarette in more than a leisurely way. 

The show moved into its interview segment, and you were interested because you knew the first guest on the show.

“Crazy how he films this right here in the city, huh?” you said. 

“Yeah, well, he’s a very down to earth guy,” Arthur contended, “He belongs to the people.”

Interesting way of saying that, for sure. You watched Arthur lean forward and put out his cigarette butt in the ashtray on your coffee table. When he leaned back, his legs both started to visibly shake. Oh god, he was getting anxious again.

“You okay?” you leaned over to his side of the couch and rested a hand on his bouncing thigh. He looked at you so suddenly his hair whipped around.

“You aren’t enjoying yourself...”

“Says who?” you ask, indignantly. 

“Well, you’re not liking the show.”

“Whoho cares?” you smiled at Arthur, adding pressure to your hand on his thigh because it was still bouncing away, “But you like him, and that’s what matters. If you’re enjoying yourself, good. Don’t be so concerned about me.”

Arthur soon stopped his shaking and looked right at you. 

“Look, they’re back from commercial break,” you scooted closer to Arthur and kept your eyes on the screen, “I like the actress he’s interviewing.”

Arthur was still looking at you. His arm that was draped over the back of the couch grew stiff when you nestled into him snugly. 

You chuckled a few times at the quips that were being made between actress and host. 

“I wanted to be an actress when I was younger,” you said, still mostly looking at the television screen.

“You did?” Arthur asked.

“Yeah.”

“What happened?”

“I grew up,” you grinned, a little sad, “It’s too cutthroat of an environment, and that career path was not that stable. But that’s also partially why I work at a theater. Get it?” you moved your hand back onto Arthur’s thigh, toying with a piece of bunched up fabric, “I hope you have better luck being a comedian than I did trying to be an actress, Arthur. I really do. You have a great comedic idol to look up to,” you pointed at the screen. 

Arthur didn’t want to let it show but every time she touched him, it sent shivers up his spine. Affection wasn’t a much-utilized word in his vocabulary. But here she was, touching him so willingly. 

“I think you would’ve been a great actress. I would’ve watched your films,” Arthur said, his voice coming out softer than usual. 

“You’re sweet,” you smiled and looked up at him. At that moment, the both of you talking, your noses almost touched. You stayed wrapped up in each other’s gaze for a bit longer, and your lips parted. But then you smiled and pulled away slightly. Why’d you do that!?

“Sorry,” you and Arthur both whispered at the same time, making you each smile bashfully. 

You turned back to the television, but you did notice a small tent growing in Arthur’s pants, making you blush hard. You could still feel his eyes on you. 

“And always remember... that’s life!” and the blaring horns of the studio band played, bring you and Arthur back to a reality that you both seemed to have left.

“I like the Murray Franklin show. You converted me,” you smiled at Arthur and stood to switch channels on the television. 

“Oh, good,” Arthur chuckled and ran a hand through his hair. He stood up as well. Well, he might as well use the bathroom while he was up. She probably was going to kick him out soon enough. He turned and went into the next room for the bathroom.

Sirens blared on the outside, also drawing you depressingly back down into the reality that was Gotham City. You had the news on and plopped back down on your couch. 

Arthur relieved himself and washed his hands, looking at himself in the mirror. He felt like being nosy and pulled back the mirror that was also Y/N’s medicine cabinet. He saw the usual things like deodorant, her toothbrush, toothpaste... and then he saw the familiar orange pill bottles. He lifted each of them up, reading what they were. Arthur smiled and sighed from happiness. She got it. She’d understand and wouldn’t ask questions about his antidepressants or his mood suppressers. They even got their prescriptions from the same pharmacy. Arthur put everything back where he found it and left the bathroom.

“It’s getting late,” he said when he saw you sitting on the couch still. 

“Yeah, um, are you gonna be okay going home this late?”

“I’ll be fine,” he smiled at you.

You stood up, “I had a great night, Arthur. Thank you for coming. I want to do this again.”

Arthur smiled, “Me too. I would do this every night if we could.”

You smiled back at him at that sweet comment, “Do you maybe, um, want my phone number?”

“Yeah, sure!” Arthur seemed like he let out a held-in breath when he accepted that offer.

You giggled and walked to the hall where you had a pencil and a pad of paper always, and you wrote your name and your phone number, “This way we can coordinate better. Instead of me, like, coming to your house out of nowhere,” you chuckled.

“If you did that more often, it would be a relief, trust me,” Arthur smiled at you and took the note. 

Your cheeks flushed for what felt like the millionth time that night and you smiled, “Well, goodnight. I do want to see you soon.”

“I do, too,” Arthur said in return.

And you were both at the front door and left it at that. You shared smiles and you reached across Arthur, opening the door for him. He left, still turning to look back at you, which made you chuckle. 

When you were alone in your apartment again, you took a few quick breaths and couldn’t stop smiling. You liked him. Really liked him. And he seemed to really like you! You changed into your pajamas and flopped into your bed. 

“Hey, Y/N!”

Hearing such a distant shout and hearing your name made you jump from your bed and go to the open window by your bedside. You wrenched it open more and stuck your head out. Down five stories below was Arthur, red nose on, and waving.

You laughed and waved back.

He did a little jig and spun around a few times before skipping down the street. You laughed some more, watching him go. He was nuts! But maybe that’s why you liked him. You would mark this first date down as successful, in your books.