#and those feel like a similar genre of injury so i guess my body just doesn't handle that kind of thing well

[wildwood-faun]

feeling :( but I know it's because my back is acting up again

[we-have-bangtan]

Again.

Pairing: Doctor! Yoongi x Patient! Reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Crack (??), Ex's, smut

Warning: Swearing, smut (just an old memory)

Synopsis: When Yn is forced to go to the hospital after falling down the stairs of her office. The doctor who was to attend to her was none other than her ex-boyfriend Min Yoongi.

A/n: let me know if you like it! And give me a reblog to support me!!!

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Yn turned over onto her back, her eyes still closed. She wondered silently why her normally soft bed was hard today. With another roll, she landed with a thud on the cold, hard floor, jolting her awake.

When the blinding lights of the room filled her vision, she suddenly regretted opening her eyes. She sat on the floor, rubbing her eyes to clear the sleep from them, oblivious to the drool on her chin. Her eyes opened in confusion when she saw the IV line on her wrist, her gaze following the line, attached to a bottle mounted onto an IV stand.

She sprang to her feet immediately, taking in her surroundings: the IV stand, the white bed, white walls, the hand sanitizer mounted on the wall, the white floor tiles, and the white blinds that kept the sunshine out.

A hospital? She guessed as she took in all the equipment, the machines that beeped every few seconds were a dead giveaway. Is this a private room? She asked herself, trying to find any clue which hospital this was when the door swung open.

Min Yoongi entered the room, wearing a white lab coat and a stethoscope around his neck. He walked over to her side and encouraged her to take a seat on the bed.

"Where am I?" Despite the fact that she already knew the answer, she inquired. "Take a wild guess," Yoongi replied dryly as he flipped through the papers on his clipboard. Yn racked her brain for the name of the hospital; she was certain she knew which one Yoongi had been working at, but her mind was blank, displaying only a buffering page similar to that of a 2004 Dell laptop.

"Did you really hit your head that hard?"  Yoongi said what he was thinking, a little concerned for her safety. "Do you have a headache? Can you recall what you ate for breakfast or what happened just before you passed out? "He questioned.

"My head hurts a bit, so for breakfast, I had cinnamon crunch with milk, and lunch I had a sandwich. Walking down the stairs is the last thing I recall," She responded. All of her responses matched what her coworkers had told them, leading Yoongi to believe that Yn simply didn't know where he worked and that her head was okay.

He was irritated that Yn had no idea where he worked, but he forced his resentment to the back of his mind before informing her that she was in a private room at Asan Medical Centre in Seoul. "Wait, are you serious?" She yelled as she struggled to get out of bed.

"Yes, seriously," he explained, forcing her back onto the bed "You fell down the stairs in your office and one of your colleagues brought you in; you were unconscious for 5 hours; you will need to stay the night so we can run some tests on you; you will need to stay the night so we can run some tests on you," he added. "Why on earth do you have no idea I work at Asan?"He demanded once he was done briefing her.

"I would have noticed if you hadn't blocked me on all your social media pages," Yn said after some thought. She hisses, reminding him why she was blocked in the first place. "I wouldn't have had to block you if you hadn't started tagging me in those dumb Facebook memes," he retorted as he paging one of the nurses to come to change the IV bag.

"Is there something bothering you? Aside from your head," Yoongi inquired, reaching for his fancy click pen, which Yn had given him in college. "You still use that?" She inquired, her gaze falling on the royal blue color of the pen, the brand name has faded over time. He calmly replied, "I started using it once I got my residence, now answer the question."

To search for any injury, Yn moved her limbs around, starting with her feet. She turned them around to look for any discomfort before moving on to her legs, which were still perfect.  She eventually tested her shoulders and despite her best efforts, winced in pain as she raised her left shoulder.

"Left shoulder, okay. Do you feel nauseous?"  Yn shook her head as Yoongi asked more.

"Any ringing in your ears?"

"Nope"

"Is that gray hair on your head?" Yn interjected, pointing to a few strands at the start of Yoongi's hairline. He dismissed her and instead scribbled a note on his clipboard.

"OK, so you don't have any concussion symptoms, your hearing is good, and you're not feeling dizzy and your eyesight is better than ever before considering the fact that you could pick out my gray hair from that far. We still have some blood work to do and I'm putting you on observation tonight in case any symptom pops up, you're free to go home after that," Yoongi informed.

He reasoned that saying anything else would be unprofessional of him. Heading for the door when, "Yah, why am I in a private room in the first place?" Yn intervened, preventing him from leaving. Yoongi replied, turning around to face her, "I figured it would be more convenient for you."

"Bruh, do you have any idea how broke I am," she grumbled, crossing her arms over her stomach. "I ain't a hotshot doctor to be able to afford a private room in Asan Medical Centre," she sneered. "Who said something about you paying?" asked Yoongi. As he returned to her side. "So, who is going to foot the bill?  You? " She inquired, he nodded, causing her jaw to drop. She was perplexed by his words and asked, "Why would you do that?" "What good is it to be a hotshot doctor?" He shrugged.

The mental picture of a very sleepy and confused Yn, with her hair all tangled up and a tiny spot of drool on her face had made him soft, and there was no stopping his heart from falling head over heels for her all over again as he walked out of the room, the smile he had been battling slowly crept into place...

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Yoongi peeked into Yn's room after his shift, his shoulders slouching from the stress of his job. He had his coat and stethoscope wrapped over his arm, his hair slightly damp from the shower he had taken, his white t-shirt clinging to his body.

When they were dating, one of Yn's 'rules' was that if he wanted to get close to her, he had to shower after returning from the hospital because she hated the scent of antiseptic. With the scent of antiseptic all over her, he wondered how she was doing.

He discovered her in bed, knees drawn up to her stomach, phone in hand, the screen almost brushing her nose as she mindlessly scrolled through Instagram. Her food, which had been left on the side table, had not been touched.

He warned, walking into the room, "You'll go blind if you keep doing that." Yn's head snapped up at his voice but calmed down when she saw who it was. He drew up a stool next to the bed and checked what Yn had received from the hospital. Soup, kimchi, rice, and pickled radishes were served on the side (Yn hated those). "Is the food not to your liking?" Concerned about her dietary habits, he inquired.

"They don't have any salt or spice," she replied as she stowed her phone. Yoongi grimaced after taking a sip of the soup. There was no salt or pepper and was as bland as raw tofu.

"SEE!!" Yn screamed, delighted that she had been proven right, but Yoongi, not one to concede defeat, put on a display. "How come it's so salty?" His face scrunched up in exaggeration as he groaned. "Stop acting, I can see right through you," Yn said, raising an eyebrow to call him out on his nonsense.

"All right, fine, you're right," Yoongi conceded as Yn yanked the sheets off herself and reached for his shoulders. He thought it was strange, but didn't say anything when she gently rubbed the spot near his collar, the tension in his shoulders dissipating as she applied pressure. He'd always thought Yn had magical hands. It felt like a miracle to have her hands on him again, something he had never expected to feel again.

"Can you tell me what I can do to get you to order me a plate of jjajangmyeon?" Yn asked. Yoongi thought, Darn it, I knew it was a trap, but he was too relaxed to say no. As she worked out the knots in his muscles, he melted under Yn's touch. She was no longer connected to the IV, enabling her to freely move about the room.

"I knew you were only in it for food," he chuckled, moving away from her to grab his phone from his coat, "What else did you think I was in it for?" Yn jested, playing along as she massaged his shoulders.

"Only jjajangmyeon?" He questioned, scrolling through the options, Yn looking at the phone from over his shoulder. "Order some side dishes too," she added, Yoongi let out a groan when Yn put pressure on THE SPOT at the back of his shoulder blade, the sound making Yn blush. "Stop that, people will think we're filing a porno," Yn scolded lightheartedly, continuing her ministering.

"I don't think we need to film any more of those, I have a whole collection already," Yoongi teased. His gummy smile showing up when he felt Yn's hand round his throat, threatening to choke him. "I think it's the other way round," he scoffed. His heart going into dangerous territory.

Yoongi remembered the night he had discovered Yn's choking kink, it had been a very eventful night. He had just come back home from the hospital when he had heard moaning coming from his bedroom, he had walked inside, totally unprepared for the breathtaking view that awaited him.

Watching porn wasn't considered cheating by Yoongi as long as Yn showed him what she was watching so he knew what they were getting into. When he walked in on Yn in his rotating chair, her legs spread out on the armrest, touching herself to a film about choking, he was pleasantly surprised. He went up behind her softly and wrapped his fingers around her throat, not putting much pressure. When Yn groaned for him, he felt himself harden in his pants and murmured, "You like that baby."

"Stop imagining it," Yn snapped, pushing away from Yoongi, "How do you expect me to just stop, those were some great moments of my life," he chuckled when his phone rang. It had something to do with the meal. He went to get the dinner by himself, leaving Yn alone.

When he returned with her dinner, he delivered it to her before saying his goodbyes and preparing to leave. "Enjoy your meal and get some sleep," he added as he gathered his belongings. "Where are you going?" Yn inquired. "Home??" Yoongi answered, taking his phone from the table when Yn stopped him. "Did you have dinner?" she asked, opening up the takeout box to reveal a generous serving of jjajangmyeon.

"Not yet, I was planning on getting some on the way," He answered, waiting for Yn to say anything. "Then you should stay and give me some company, it's not like I can finish all this on my own," She mumbled. "You sure?" Yoongi confirmed, taking his place on the chair as Yn grabbed the chopsticks from the bedside table, letting him have the wooden chopsticks that the restaurant provides.

They both dug into the meal, savoring every mouthful. In the otherwise peaceful hospital, just the sound of them slurping their noodles and the beep of the monitors could be heard. The majority of the patients were fast asleep, and those who were awake were taking special precautions to avoid making any noise.

Yn was the one who broke the stillness by inquiring about Holly. He said, licking his lips to get rid of the sauce, "She's good, I got her a ribbon for her ears the other day." He was intrigued about Yn's cranky cat, Buster, who had scratched Holly once. Yoongi's heart dropped to his stomach as Yn replied, "We had to put him down."

Although he was simply a large, sluggish cat who refused to get his butt off the window pane, Buster had been Yn's pride and joy, her support system. "That must have been difficult," Yoongi paused, unsure of how to express his condolences.

"It had to be done; he was in a lot of agony," Yn shrugged, shaking her head to clear her mind. "How are the boys doing?  I haven't seen them since we broke up" Yoongi's six other friends were the subject of Yn's inquiry. He assured her everyone was ok. "You might see Jungkook tomorrow," he said, explaining that he had taken the day off today. "Does Jungkookie work here?" Yn inquired, quite surprised by the information. "Yes, he's an intern trying to get his residence, surprising isn't it," Yoongi admitted.

Yn burped after she finished her dinner, making Yoongi laugh at how cute she looked. Once Yn had freshened up, Yoongi said, "Ok, now that you've finished eating, I'll go home, and YOU'LL go to sleep." "You always leave," Yn remarked, rolling her eyes. The words weighed heavy on his mind as he tucked her in. On his way out, he turned out the light and gave her one last look before walking away.

Yoongi slouched his shoulders again once he was in his car. The words Yn had just said reverberated in his mind. Since he had broken up with Yn, the words "You always leave" had tormented him. He had been in love with her, yet he was the one who had abandoned her. NOT THE OTHER WAY AROUND, HE LEFT HER. It was painful to recall the details of their breakup.

Yn crying into his chest, asking why she wasn't enough. Him holding her as fiercely as he could, not knowing if he'd ever get another chance. His cowardice had broken both of them that night. He'd run away from one of the most precious part of his life, and he still regrets it.

They had broken up because of him. Yoongi always believed Yn deserved someone better than him, she was too good for him. She had yelled at him when he had told her that. Saying that it was her who got to decide who was worth her time and affection, and if h really thought h didn't deserve her then maybe he should make himself deserving, she had said that that was the solution for Yoongi's thoughts, breaking up was not the solution, but he was stubborn as a mule, refusing to see how he was destroying both of them and everything they had.

And now here he was, striving to be less of a wimp than he had been all those years before. He remembered how enraged the boys had been when he told them what he'd done. "Have you gone insane?" All Yoongi could do was nod when Jin Hyung asked. Yes, he'd gone nuts, which was why he'd been insane enough to let her go. He had no problem admitting it.

He cruised around the deserted roads, far too late in the evening for anyone to be out. He considered calling Jin hyung for advice, but he opted against it because he assumed he was already in bed. For the rest of the night, he was alone with his thoughts, his mind eating away at him, keeping him awake at night, tossing and turning in bed, contemplating what they could have been if he hadn't been a coward.

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The next morning was the same as any other, the only difference being the speed of Yoongi's car when he was on his way to the office. The usual 60km/h had escalated to 80km/h and he was certainly a little too excited for someone who was going to be at the hospital for the next 18 hours.

He was walking up the corridor to Yn's room after exiting the elevator on the third level when he heard screams. "MOVE, MOVE OUT OF THE WAY PEOPLE!" shouted Yn as Jungkook pushed her wheelchair down the slanted corridor quicker.

What the fuck!!, Yoongi thought as he saw Jungkook climb onto the wheelchair's back supports, watching in horror as the two of them laughed and giggled their way down the corridor at full speed (which wasn't much speed btw), completely disregarding the 'no noise' and 'no running' placards which were stuck to the wall.

He quickly stepped in the way, feeling a little sense of joy watching Jungkook's eyes widen in fright. Bringing the wheelchair to a screeching halt a few inches away from Yoongi. "Good morning, Hyung!!" he said cheerfully as if he hadn't just broken every regulation in the hospital.

"Can you tell me what you're up to?" His gaze fell on Yn, who appeared to be having the time of her life. "Relax, Yoongo-boongo," Yn remarked. Yoongi frowned at the old nickname, which he had pleaded with Yn to abandon.

"This is risky, you know," Yoongi said, "especially since you wounded your shoulder," He added, quick to understand that Jungkook had no idea about Yn's wounded shoulder. "You hurt your shoulder?!?" the younger one screamed. Yn scowled at Yoongi for giving up that knowledge so easily. Yoongi justified himself by saying, "Don't look at me like that, he was going to find out regardless."

"Yes, but you didn't have to tell him so early, now he won't let me have any fun." She whined, Yoongi scoffed at that, "he isn't supposed to make you have 'fun', he'd supposed to take you to get your x-ray done, it's on the first floor."

Yn pouted as Jungkook nodded at the instructions, pushing the wheelchair with Yn still in it towards the elevator. "Without the wheelchair," Yoongi clarified, making Jungkook pout as well, helping Yn out of the wheelchair.

They both sulked like kicked puppies in the elevator and Yoongi could not stand it. "Ok, fine, take the freaking wheelchair, but just be careful." he said, finally giving in. The two of them gave him bright smiles. Yn sat back in the wheelchair just as the elevator door slid open and Jungkook rolled Yn out.

They're fortunate. Yoongi thought to himself as he went about his rounds that Namjoon owned the hospital. While Yn was getting her x-ray, he checked in with his patients. Yn had a good night's sleep and awoke fairly early, according to the nurse in charge of her surveillance. She felt a minor headache, but nothing else was wrong with her. Only the shoulder was a big issue, and they were unable to determine what was causing the pain.

It took 2 hours for Yoongi to check up on all his patients and meet with a few others in the clinic when Jungkook barged into Yoongi's office with an envelope. "Jungkook you can't just barge in like that," Yoongi groaned as he quickly gave the patient their prescription before sending them out. Telling the receptionist to not send any more patients, he turned all his attention to Kook.

"Now, what's wrong?" He asked, spinning in his chair to face the intern. "Noona's reports are here" Jungkook informed, holding out the envelope. "So fast?" Yoongi questioned. It usually took a day or two for the reports and none of the radiologists took Jungkook seriously, dismissing him as just an intern. He found it suspicious that they had given the reports back so early.

"Namjoon hyung was there for an inspection, he got it done when he saw noona," Jungkook said with a cheeky grin. Yoongi nodded at the explanation. Namjoon always had a soft spot for Yn regardless of if Yn and he were together. He pulled out the reports, scanning through them. "Where is Yn now?" He asked, putting the reports back inside. Jungkook informed that Namjoon had taken her to her room, playing along with Yn's wheelchair drama.

Yoongi rolled his eyes at that, but Jungkook didn't miss the quiver of his lips. Jungkook followed Yoongi upstairs to Yn's room, where they found Yn squishing Namjoon's cheeks. Jungkook joined them, laughing, and Yn hastily let Namjoon free. "So, Doctor, what do you have to say?" Yn asked as Namjoon got out of the chair, rubbing his red-tinged cheeks.

"You must slow down with the usage of your shoulder. You appear to be putting a lot of tension on it; fortunately, it's only strain and nothing dangerous." Yoongi said, instructing Yn to apply heat and ice packs to the affected area. "Are you going to issue me a leave sick note?" Yn inquired as she got out of bed.

"Nope, you can go back to work just fine as long as you don't do any heavy lifting," Yoongi said, scribbling something on a piece of paper. "Yah, Yoongi-ah pleaseeeee write me a sick note," Yn pleaded as she searched for the t-shirt she had worn when she had come into the hospital yesterday. "Nope, and are you really going to wear that?" He asked, surprised that Yn hadn't called anyone to come to pick her up.

"Yeah, I need to head home," Yn answered, gathering her things, "Wait, you can't wear that, I have a spare shirt in my office I'll get that," Yoongi said, getting out of the chair while Namjoon and Jungkook exchanged knowing looks.

"We'll get it hyung, don't worry," Jungkook assured, dragging Namjoon with him. The two of them got into the elevator before spilling the tea. "He is SO whipped!" Jungkook exclaimed, pushing the button to go downstairs. "So is she and did you know Yoongi hyung was footing her bill and he got her a private room?" Namjoon asked, amazed at the extent his extremely tsundere hyung was going to for Yn. "He's pretty much in love all over again, and the nurse said that Yoongi hyung spent more than an hour in noona's room," Jungkook informed with a giddy smile.

"Jin hyung NEEDS to know about this," Namjoon exclaimed but made no move to call their hyung, quickly going to Yoongi's office and grabbing the gray FG shirt which was in his locker before going back upstairs.

As soon as the boys returned to the room, Yn grabbed the t-shirt. She hurriedly removed the hospital gown she had been compelled to wear. Yoongi was quick to respond, instantly stepping in front of Yn so the two younger men wouldn't get a glimpse of his lovely ex's exquisite body, and only pulling away once Yn was covered in his shirt.

"You didn't have to do that, I was wearing a tank top beneath," Yn said, tucking the shirt's hem into the jeans she had worn the day before. "For safety reasons," Yoongi shrugged, avoiding eye contact as though it weren't a big concern that he was covering up his ex. Namjoon's sniggering at the entrance went unnoticed.

"Noona how are going home?" Jungkook asked, checking the time realizing it was his lunch break. "I'll take a cab, don't worry," she assured, grabbing her phone and keys from the bedside table. "I'll drop you home, it'll be hard to get a cab at this time over here," Yoongi said, following after her into the hallway as Jungkook and Namjoon watched.

As she approached the elevator, Yn commented, not really trying to stop Yoongi from coming with her, "There's a thing called uber Yoongi, I'm sure I'll catch a cab." "Jesus woman, will you ever accept aid without a fight?" Yoongi moaned as he snatched her wrist and brought her downstairs to get his keys.

"Aish is so stubborn," Yn grumbled as she trailed behind him, her hand slipping into Yoongi's. They didn't seem to be aware that they were holding hands.

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"Jin hyung will be so happy hearing about this," Jungkook exclaimed, watching Yn and Yoongi argue like an old, married couple while holding hands as they went to the hospital parking lot.

"They look cute, 10$ that they get back together by the end of the month," Namjoon bet, moving away from the window of the private room. "Hyung, you literally own the hospital, I'm just a flimsy intern, how could you expect me to pay 10$," Jungkook whined making Namjoon laugh as Yoongi’s car spedmout of the driveway.

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[devilsskettle]

oh man i have a Lot of thoughts about the autopsy of jane doe, both positive and critical For Sure, i'd be SO excited to see your analysis of it! definitely keeping an eye out for that 👀

thanks! i'm working on something article-like to talk about the film and i don't know what i want to do with it yet lol but if i don't post it on here i'll definitely link it. it's mainly a discussion of gender in possession/occult films in the same way that carol clover describes in men, women, and chainsaws - that there are dual plot lines in occult films, usually gendered masculine and feminine respectively, where the "main" feminine plot (the actual possession) is actually a way to explore the "real" masculine plot (the emotional conflict of the "man in crisis" protagonist). typically the man in crisis is too masculine, or "closed" emotionally, where the woman is too "open," which is why she acts as the vehicle for the supernatural occurrence as well as the core emotions of the film. the man has to learn how to become more open (though if he becomes too open, like father karras in the exorcist, he has to die by the end - he has to find a happy medium, where he doesn't actually transgress gender expectations too much. clover calls this state the "new masculine," and we might apply the term "toxic masculinity" to the "closed" emotional state). part of the "opening up" feature of the story is that it allows men to be highly emotionally expressive in situations where they otherwise might not be allowed to, which is cathartic for the assumed primary audience of these films (young men). another feature of the genre is white science vs black magic (once you exhaust the scientific "rational" explanations, you have to accept that something magic is happening). the autopsy of jane doe does this even more than the films she discusses when she published the book in 1992 (the exorcist, poltergeist, christine, etc) because the supernaturally influenced young woman who becomes this kind of vehicle is more of an object than a character. she doesn't have a single line of dialogue or even blink for the entire runtime of the movie. the camerawork often pans to her as if to show her reactions to the events of the movie, which seems kind of pointless because it's the same reaction the whole time (none) but it allows the viewer to project anything they want onto her - from personal suffering to cunning and spite. 

compare again to the exorcist: is the story actually about regan mcneil? no. but do we care about her? sure (clover says no, but i think we at least feel for her situation lol). and do we get an idea of what she's like as a person? yes. even though her pain and her body are used narratively as a framework for karras' emotional/religious crisis, we at least see her as a person. both she and her mother are expendable to the "real" plot but they're very active in their roles in the "main" plot - our "jane doe" isn't afforded even that level of agency or identity. so. is that inherently sexist? well, no - if there were other women in the film who were part of the "real" plot, i would say that the presence of women with agency and identity demonstrate enough regard for the personhood of women to make the gender of the subject of the autopsy irrelevant. but there are none. of the three important women in the film, we have 1) an almost corpse, 2) an absent (dead) mother, and 3) a one dimensional girlfriend who is killed off for a man's character development/cathartic expression of emotions. all three are just platforms for the men in crisis of this narrative. 

and, to my surprise, much of the reception to the film is to embrace it as a feminist story because the witch is misconstrued as a badass, powerful, Strong Female Character girl boss type for getting revenge on the men who wronged her, with absolutely no consideration given to what the movie actually ends up saying about women. and the director has said that he embraces this interpretation, but never intended it. so like. of course you're going to embrace the interpretation that gives you critical acclaim and the moral high ground. but it's so fucking clear that it was never his intention to say anything about feminism, or women in general, or gender at all. so i find it very frustrating that people read the film that way because it's just. objectively wrong.

there's also things i want to say about this idea that clover talks about in a different chapter of the book when she discusses the country/city divide in a lot of horror (especially rape-revenge films) in which the writer intends the audience to identify with the city characters and be against the country characters (think of, like, house of 1000 corpses - there's pretty explicit socioeconomic regional tension between the evil country residents and the travelers from the city) but first, they have to address the real harm that the City (as a whole) has inflicted upon the Country (usually in the forms of environmental and economic destruction) so in order to justify the antagonization the country people are characterized by, their "retaliation" for these wrongs has to be so extreme and misdirected that we identify with the city people by default (if country men feel victimized by the City and react by attacking a city woman who isn't complicit in the crimes of the City in any of the violent, heinous ways horror movies employ, of course we won't sympathize with them). why am i bringing this up? well, clover says this idea is actually borrowed from the western genre, where native americans are the Villains even as white settlers commit genocide - so they characterize them as extremely savage and violent in order to justify violence against them (in fiction and in real life). the idea is to address the suffering of the Other and delegitimize it through extreme negative characterization (often, with both the people from the country and native americans, through negative stereotyping as well as their actions). so i think that shows how this idea is transferred between different genres and whatever group of people the writers want the viewers to be against, and in this movie it’s happening on the axis of gender instead of race, region, or class. obviously the victims of the salem witch trials suffered extreme injustice and physical violence (especially in the film as victim of the ritual the body clearly underwent) BUT by retaliating for the wrongs done to her, apparently (according to the main characters) at random, she's characterized as monstrous and dangerous and spiteful. her revenge is unjustified because it’s not targeted at the people who actually committed violence against her. they say that the ritual created the very thing it was trying to destroy - i.e. an evil witch. she becomes the thing we're supposed to be afraid of, not someone we’re supposed to sympathize with. she’s othered by this framework, not supported by it, so even if she’s afforded some power through her posthumous magical abilities, we the viewer are not supposed to root for her. if the viewer does sympathize with her, it’s in spite of the writing, not because of it. the main characters who we are intended to identify with feel only shallow sympathy for her, if any - even when they realize they’ve been cutting open a living person, they express shock and revulsion, but not regret. in fact, they go back and scalp her and take out her brain. after realizing that she’s alive! we’re intended to see this as an acceptable retaliation against the witch, not an act of extreme cruelty or at the very least a stupid idea lol. 

(also - i hate how much of a buzzword salem is in movies like this lol, nothing about her injuries or the story they “read” on her is even remotely similar to what happened in salem, except for the time period. i know they don’t explicitly say oh yeah, she was definitely from salem, but her injuries really aren’t characteristic of american executions of witches at all so i wish they hadn’t muddied the water by trying to point to an actual historical event. especially since i think the connotation of “witch” and the victims of witch trials has taken on a modern projection of feminism that doesn’t really make sense under any scrutiny. anyway)

not to mention the ending: what was the writer intending the audience to get from the ending? that the cycle of violence continues, and the witch’s revenge will move on and repeat the same violence in the next place, wherever she ends up. we’re supposed to feel bad for whoever her next victims will be. but what about her? i think the movie figures her maybe as triumphant, but she’s going to keep being passed around from morgue to morgue, and she’s going to be vivisected again and again, with no way to communicate her pain or her story. the framework of the story doesn’t allow for this ending to be tragic for her, though - clearly the tragedy lies with the father and son, finally having opened up to one another, unfortunately too late, and dying early, unjust deaths at the hands of this unknowable malignant entity. it doesn’t do justice to her (or the girlfriend, who seems to be nothing but collateral damage in all of this - in the ending sequence, when the police finds the carnage, it only shows them finding the bodies of the men. the girlfriend is as irrelevant to the conclusion as she is to the rest of the plot). 

but does this mean the autopsy of jane doe is a “bad” movie? i guess it depends on your perspective. ultimately, it’s one of those questions that i find myself asking when faced with certain kinds of stories that inevitably crop up often in our media: how much can we excuse a story for upholding regressive social norms (even unintentionally) before we have to discount the whole work? i don’t think the autopsy of jane doe warrants complete rejection for being “problematic” but i think the critical acclaim based on the idea that it’s a feminist film should be rejected. i still consider it a very interesting concept with strong acting and a lot of visual appeal, and it’s a very good piece of atmospheric horror. it’s does get a bit boring at certain points, but the core of the film is solid. it’s also not trying to be sexist, arguably it’s not overtly sexist at all, it’s just very very androcentric at the expense of its female characters, and i’m genuinely shocked that anyone would call it feminist. so sure, let’s not throw the baby out with the bath water, but let’s also be critical about how it’s using women as the stage for men’s emotional conflict 

also re: my description of this little project as “a film isn’t feminist just because there’s a woman’s name in the title” - i actually don’t want to skim over the fact that “jane doe” isn’t a real name. of the three women in the film, only one has a real name; the other two are referred to by names given to them by men. i’ll conclude on this note because i want to emphasize the lack of even very basic ways of recognizing individual identity afforded to women in this film. so yeah! the end! thanks for your consideration if you read this far! 

[nessinborderland]

Be Mine (07)

Pairing: Niragi x Reader / Chishiya x Reader

Genre: Smut, Angst, Fluff, Omegaverse

Word Count: 2.8k

Summary: You were able to stay unbounded throughout your life. You didn’t want an Alpha; you didn’t need one. You would rather die than to give yourself to some random male. But the man that saved your life thinks differently.

Warnings: Alpha/Omega, Dubious Consent, Vaginal Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Finger fucking, Rough Sex, Rough Kissing, Unprotected Sex, Creampie, Breeding, Pregnancy Kink, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Drama, Developing Relationship, Past Abuse, Scars, Death, Blood and Gore, Animal Death, Trauma, Bath Sex, Blood and Injury, Oral Sex, Dom/sub Undertones, Feelings

Notes: Here it is! I finally update this fic lol. Better late than never :) Thank you all for being so patient with me and appreciating my other writing endeavors. Means a lot <3

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You spend the rest of the day crying in your room. You still can’t believe he acted like that, especially after the sex you just had. It had felt so free, to just give yourself to him and feel him in you. It felt right, it felt… like he was the one for you. Like you could trust him.

Like you could choose him.

And then he bit you, and it was like a tsunami of messed up emotions came flowing in. It scared you; there’s so much pain and doubt in him. But there is also so much more, things you don’t want to think about. Things you don’t want to see.

You caught a glimpse of his soul, and it is dark as the moonless night. It scared you for a moment. But then he pushed you away and all you could feel in him was fear; he was terrified. You could relate to that; it was all so overwhelming. But then shame and rejection washed over you as he said all those awful words. You know he didn’t really mean any of it, but it didn’t make it hurt any less. You were so mad.

You still are. After he followed you out of that meeting, you thought he was going to apologize, but he just made it worse. All those threats, all the manhandling; you don’t want any of that. He has no right to act as he did.

And then there is Chishiya. The man hadn’t hesitated to follow you as soon as you left the meeting. He had approached you with the excuse to know about your wellbeing, but you knew what he really wanted to know. And when Niragi appeared right behind you, it’s like Chishiya’s eyes lit up. “I’ll be coming for you in three days.” the man had whispered before walking away. You hadn’t understood what he meant until Niragi said something similar.

Your heat is approaching.

You have a heat roughly every four months. It’s way too soon. But with the Alphas around, you guess it is bound to come earlier. You don’t know what to do, to be honest. If you stay at the Beach, they will come for you. If you run away, they will hunt you down. 

You don’t have a choice; not really. As soon as your heat starts, you won’t be yourself anymore; you will open your legs for the first Alpha that puts his hands on you. You will just let them take you, without a care of the future. Not only that, but they will fight for you too, and you know they won’t give up.

It terrifies you, the thought that they might die because of you; that he might die.

A firm knock on the door startles you. You stand up, composing yourself; it’s probably someone with your dinner. You open the door to see Niragi, food tray in hand.

“Didn’t know you worked in the kitchen now,” you say, drying the tears from your face. He says nothing, eyes locked on you. You can feel his emotions, guarded against you, but still there. Hesitation, annoyance, and something else you can’t quite figure.

“I don’t.” he says with a scowl, “But who do you think has been sending these to your room?” He hands you the tray and stands there, hands in his pockets. He averts his eyes, “Can I come in?”

“It was you?” you ask, eyes wide in surprise. He shrugs.

“What, you thought that everyone here just gets room service?” he says with a huff, “This is not a luxury hotel, Y/N.” there’s a pause, “So, are you gonna let me in or what?” 

You step aside, letting him come in. Your mind fogs for a moment when you catch his scent, but you quickly control yourself; there’s something important your need to discuss.

“Are you here to apologize?” you ask after a moment of silence. He’s still not looking you in the eyes. You sigh and put down your tray, grabbing an apple and handing it to him. He looks at you with a raised brow. “Eat with me,” you say. He takes the apple from you, sitting down on the bed when you do the same.

“You know I would never hurt you, right?” he says, after another moment of silence. You give a huffing laugh, nodding.

“Yeah, maybe not physically,” you answer, taking a spoonful of soup. “But death threats and name-calling are still hurtful, you know?” He nods. You can feel the turmoil in him; how he’s divided between staying or running away. Between apologizing and let you accept him or just take you, “As I said before, I understand your feelings, but I will not be a doormat.”

“Yeah, I know...“

“So,” you press on, “Are you here to apologize or to wait until I miraculously forgive you?” You feel a spark of anger in him, see the scowl on his face. It doesn’t last long, though.

“I– I‘m–,” he hesitates, “I won’t do it again.” 

You raise a brow, “And?...” 

His eyes lock on you and he sighs, “I will be better.” you keep staring at him until he rolls his eyes with an exasperated grunt, “Fine... I’m sorry, okay? Happy now?”

“Hmm, much better,” you say with a small smile. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?” 

His scowl deepens, but he says nothing. You notice that the tip of his ears are red; that’s probably the only time Niragi has ever looked anything near to adorable. You’re happy he apologized, even though it was clearly an effort. A part of you is happy to see him struggle; you don’t need a man child that doesn’t own up to his own mistakes.

You keep eating in silence, wondering when he will talk. You were expecting him to leave after apologizing, but he just stays still. You can almost see the gears turning as he tries to decide on what to do next.

“You’ll still bond with me, right?” he blurts out, eyes focused on the apple in his hand. You can’t help but laugh out loud at that; of course, that’s what is bothering him. You shrug with a tight-lipped smile.

“Do I actually have a choice?” you ask him, “Will you respect my wishes if I tell you that I don’t want you? Or will you still take me as soon as I get in heat?” you both know the answer to those questions.

“You know I can’t control this,” he says in a low tone, “Neither do you. We just–”

“But am I wrong to wish that we could?” your eyes lock. You can feel a knot forming in your throat, “I can promise you the world, and still let Chishiya fuck me if he gets to me first. I–I can’t– none of this matters.” you let out a sob, “Free will is nothing but an illusion.” you whisper. “I– I’m scared.”

You just let yourself cry again; you’re so done with everything going on in your life. It doesn’t matter what you try to do; nothing will change. So you might as well just accept it. That doesn’t make it easier, though.

Maybe one of you will end up dying before you can see yourself stuck in a shitty relationship. That’s what you can hope for, for both of your goods.

He pulls you into a hug before you can voice your thoughts. You bury your face against his chest, wishing that that proximity, all those feelings, were real; that you actually loved each other. It only makes you cry harder. He keeps hugging you, whispering comforting things in your ear.

What surprises you the most is that this is not him. The glimpse of the person you saw when he bit you; that was him. This one is not. The actual Niragi would never comfort you like this. The actual Niragi is too broken to show anyone love or kindness. That’s why it hurts even more; he isn’t himself. You wouldn’t want him near you if he was himself. But that still doesn’t erase who he is; the things he has done. And it scares you.

But you also don’t have a choice.

“Yes.” is all you say. You don’t need to say more. You know he understood what you meant. The happiness you feel in him tells you that clearly.

You accept him when he kisses you, letting yourself be controlled by your wolf; is much easier than let your doubts consume you. Your wolf knows precisely what she needs; you don’t. So you let him kiss you and touch you. You let him undress you and kiss your body. You let him dry your tears and turn your sobs into moans of pleasure. You take all of him in you, enjoying the connection that you know isn’t real but feels so right. The only thing that matters when you’re both connected like that.

When he says ‘mine’ against your lips as you orgasm together, you have only half a mind to not say ‘I love you’ back. That is something that you will not say. But when he embraces you after, so warm and strong and safe, you can’t help but say that you like him. That you want him. He whispers something you can’t understand, already half asleep. But you can feel his emotions, cristal clear in the back of your mind.

He’s the right choice.

You wake up hours later, naked in your bed. Alone. It’s still dark outside, but it mustn’t take long for the sun to rise. You let out a sigh; did you just let him console you and make love to you just so he could leave, again? Is this how it’s going to be from now on? You control the impulse to cry; that’s pretty much all you do. You’re tired of it. You have made your decision; now it’s time to face the consequences. 

You walk through the empty hallways of the hotel. Everyone at the resort is either dead asleep or still partying. You have no idea where Niragi might be, but you know he can’t be far; you can still feel him in the back of your mind. Faint, but there. You don’t feel any exaggerated emotion, though. At least that brings you some peace of mind. You walk around the resort for some time until you find him.

He sits at the edge of the rooftop, his gun beside him, a beer in hand. He notices you as soon as you show up, turning to look at you. He says nothing as you approach him, sitting next to him. One of his arms goes over your shoulder, pulling you closer. All signs that he’s not rejecting you. Your anxiety dissipates; you can’t believe how relieved you are. You lay your head on his shoulder, enjoying the silence and the early morning.

“Want some?” he offers you his drink. You shake your head, “Noted: doesn’t like beer.” he says with a huffed laugh. You don’t find it funny; you really don’t know anything about each other. You know even less about him than he knows about you. You decide to risk it; it can’t hurt to ask.

“Tell me about you,” you say, a slight questioning tone in your voice. He tenses up immediately, arm leaving your shoulder. Your hand snaps to grab his hand, “I–I don’t mean your scars!” you say before it’s too late. “Just tell me something, anything.” he looks at you with a frown, before looking straight ahead with a sigh.

“What do you want to know?” he asks in a cautious tone. You open your mouth to answer before hesitating; there’s so much you want to know about him, but you know that the wrong questions will scare him away. That’s the last thing you want. You interlock your fingers, thumb brushing over the back of his hand in what you hope is a calming gesture. He doesn’t pull away.

“For starters…” you hesitate, “What’s your first name?” 

“Suguru,” he answers after a pause, “But you can keep calling me Niragi,” you whisper his name, feeling it on your tongue. It feels odd, but also right; like you’re the only one allowed to call him that. “What else?” he snaps your attention back to him. You hesitate for a moment.

“Well...what is your favorite color?” you decide to go for the safest route possible. “Your favorite food? Favorite animal? What did you do back in the real world? What–”

“Wow okay, easy there with the questions.” he’s not frowning anymore, so you take that as a win. He takes a deep breath. “My favorite color is black and I–”

“I would have never guessed,” you laugh, as you look him up and down. He raises a brow at you before proceeding.

“I like katsudon,” he hesitates, “My...my mom used to cook it for me a lot when I was a kid.” you smile; it’s the first time you heard him share anything about his family. Your eyes lock, and you notice a faint blush on his cheeks. “What were the other questions?” he asks.

“Favorite animal? Your job back home?”

“Oh right,” he proceeds. “I like ravens.” you nod with a smile, remembering the raven tattoo on his chest. “And I’m a game engineer. Mostly software, make sure the game works fine and the design and controls don’t give any problems, that sort of stuff.” your eyes go wide. You would never think of him as having a job like that. He notices your surprised expression, “What, you thought I was some gangster or something?”. You laugh.

“Not really, but never took you for a game nerd.” you smirk, “Is that how you learned how to shoot, by playing Call of Duty?” He huffs out a laugh with a light slap to your thigh. He’s no longer tense; you can’t help but feel a sense of accomplishment at being able to get something out of him. 

You keep talking, watching the sunrise as you answer his questions. He asks you similar stuff to what you asked him, clearly uncomfortable to go beyond that. You’re thankful for that; you wouldn’t want for it to ruin the mood.

He’s surprisingly nice to talk too, once he’s comfortable. You don’t know if it’s because you’re outside, alive, just the two of you, but you feel so relaxed. It’s almost like nothing is wrong. You wish you could just freeze this moment in time, make it last. But good things tend to come to an end.

A voice from the walkie-talkie near him interrupts your conversation.

“Say that again?” he asks into the intercom.

“We found this guy wandering outside the perimeter.” says a male voice, “What do we do with him?”. Niragi sighs, already standing up.

“Take him to the usual room, I’ll be there in a moment.” he turns to you, “Go back to bed, Y/N.”

His whole demeanor is different. No more of that warm vibe or nice smile. He’s back to being Niragi, the militant. You don’t like it one bit. You make that clear, but he still insists on you going back to your room.

“Why can’t I go with you?” you ask. You rarely see him in those circumstances. You know you’ll probably regret it, but you need to see that part of him too. You discuss it for a moment until he sighs, finally complying.

“Fine,” he says, “But stay back, and leave the room as soon as I order you to.”

You walk into a room on the lower levels of the hotel. You stay back as you promised, standing behind the rest of the militants, closer to the door. The rest of the group makes way for Niragi as he walks to the center of the room, where a man is tied to a chair. You can’t see his face, covered by a black bag, but you can see that he’s shaking. With a sign from Niragi, the bag is pulled off, showing the man’s face underneath. There’s a gasp, and then:

Confusion. Realization. Fear. Terror. Panic. Anger. So much anger.

All those emotions hit you like a ton of bricks. You instantly know that they’re not yours; that scares you more than if they actually were. You have never felt those emotions so strongly before. You’re about to take a step towards Niragi when his voice echoes in the room.

“Y/N,” his tone is so unfamiliar that you wonder for a moment if he was the one talking. His voice is ice-cold but with so much anger underneath that he’s visibly shaking. It’s terrifying, “Get out.”

“Ni–” you take a step towards him.

“All of you, out!” he shouts, startling everyone in the room, “Now!”

You take a good look at him. You can only see his back, but you clearly notice the glint of claws. His whole body language screams threatening wolf. You know that if you could see his face, his eyes would be yellow and his fangs would be exposed.

This is bad. Really bad.

Next chapter

[retrievablememories]

a sudden desire | johnny (m)

title: a sudden desire pairing: johnny x black reader genre: fluff, smut, fantasy/sci-fi summary: when you make an emergency landing on an ice planet, you have no choice but to seek refuge for the night. word count: 5.4k warnings: detailed description of an injury, mentions of violence, tending to wounds, mentions of insecurities, heavy petting, fingering, some dirty talk, unprotected sex—do not try at home!! 🔞 a/n: this exists in the same universe as my other fic, empathy. i’m developing this universe literally as i go, so plz excuse any plot holes, illogical shit, etc. i feel like this might be a bit too similar to another fic i wrote on here, but whatever chile it’s an excuse for some johnny smut so...bone app the teeth

The cold bites into your nose, fingertips, lips—the very bone marrow of your body. All you can do is shudder against the strong, icy wind beating across your skin and cling tighter to the backpack on your shoulders. You flex your fingers on the backpack straps to keep the blood circulating in them, though that doesn’t do much good when they hurt too much to move properly.

“Fuck, it’s freezing,” Ten curses beside you, and you’d agree if your lips didn’t feel frozen shut. Out of all places for your ship to give out, it’s just your luck that it happened on Kankara. Ice planet or not, though, you all made it out only by the skin of your teeth. The raiders who were on your tail would’ve surely taken advantage of the ship’s ruined state—one that they caused—if Laila and Lucas hadn’t taken them out with their gunning skills.

You, Ten, Lucas, and Laila huddle together near the entrance of the repair garage as you watch Johnny transfer the team’s credits to the repairman. Surprisingly, he’s one of the few other humans you’ve encountered in your travels across the galaxy, and it makes you wonder how he ended up here.

You already know there aren’t going to be many credits left after paying to fix the extensive damages the ship sustained, which is even more reason to get it in working order again. Because once it’s running, you can seek more missions—and more bounties.

“What’s the cheapest place around here that we can crash at for a while?” Johnny asks the man once he takes his Unit Pad back. The man scoffs, throwing him a look that’s equal parts sympathetic and amused.

“Not many hovercabs run around here, especially this time of night. The closest and cheapest place you’ll reach on foot is Drakar’s Motel...but it ain’t shit to write home about.” The man gives Johnny the directions. Most of what he says goes in one of your ears and out the other. You’ll be amazed if half of your brain isn’t frozen by the time you get indoors.

Laila sighs at the prospect of shacking up in a strange place. “I wish we could take the smaller craft,” she says, stomping her feet like a child.

“Too bad it got damaged too,” Lucas says, rubbing her shoulders in a futile attempt to warm her up. “These raiders are fuckin’ ruthless, man.”

“I guess it’ll have to do,” Johnny sighs, pocketing his pad and making his way back to the group. He reaches for one of your hands and you uncurl it from your backpack strap to take his. It’s an effort, but you feel better the instant his skin is on yours, so you think it’s worth it.

The snow never stops falling on this planet. It’s a perpetual winter, only much less jolly and welcoming than your typical winter wonderland. There doesn’t seem to be much of anything here. Just scattered buildings, empty streets, snow, and more snow—like a frozen desert. You don’t mind a bit of cold weather every now and then, but this is an extreme you don’t think you could ever get used to.

Kankara’s neighboring moons hang large in the sky, providing ample light to travel by. At least you don’t have to worry too much about whatever’s lurking in the dark.

Thankfully, you don’t have to walk the streets for too long before a bright glow begins manifesting through the ice and snow, as if some holy mirage. The slanted edges of a building come into focus, and it becomes clear that this is the motel’s silhouette.

“Finally!” Ten kicks a mound of snow in front of him and it sprays up around Laila, who promptly blesses him out for dousing her in more cold. As usual, Lucas has to squeeze his way in between them to stop the ensuing mess.

The first thing you notice about the motel is its neon sign. Not all of the letters work, so it looks more like “a a’s ote” than “Drakar’s Motel.” You simply chuckle and roll your eyes at that. If you were the one who had to come out in this cold to fix the letters, you’d leave the shit alone too.

There’s not much to see on the outside of the motel, with white powder covering nearly every inch of its exterior. You have to admit that it looks quite small, though, even from farther away.

When you all get inside, you realize it’s not much better. The temperature in the lobby is only a few degrees higher than the outside, at most. Not brutally cold anymore, but certainly not enough to warm anybody up. The lobby itself is barely bigger than one floor of your ship, and the burning fluorescent lights make you feel like a bug pinned underneath a glass pane, strangely lit up and displayed for all to see.

An extraterrestrial you recognize as a Vykyll sits behind the check-in counter reading a magazine. They’re balancing their chin on one of their tentacles, looking half-asleep and extremely bored with their job...or with life itself. Their nametag reads “Srynei.”

Srynei looks up from their magazine and gives you all a weary expression. “Before you even ask, there are only two one-beds available. The other rooms are either occupied or defunct.”

“One bed?” Lucas echoes, his eyes widening. He looks stuck between incredulity and annoyance.

You and Johnny glance at each other. He shrugs. “Well…it’s not like we have the money to pay for anything better, anyway.” He takes out his Unit Pad to hand to the alien. “Book it for five nights.”

Srynei places their magazine down and takes out a Unit Pad with the motel’s logo on it. “2 rooms for 50 credits a night...you got it.”

“Defunct? What does that mean?” Laila asks, furrowing her eyebrows.

“It means we can’t stay in those rooms, dumbass,” Ten replies, flicking her forehead. She catches his wrist before he can pull away fast enough and twists it, making him yelp in pain.

“I know what it means, watermelon head. I’m asking, why are they defunct?”

“Burst pipes, leaks, shattered windows from the sheer amount of cold...not my problem, though, I just check in the guests.” Srynei rolls their eyes as if they’re exhausted with the absurdity of the entire situation. You can’t imagine how many off-world visitors Kankara gets for the motel to still be in business, but stranger things have happened.

After the transaction is finished, Srynei holds out two room keys and you take them. 102 and 105, which means at least you won’t have to venture back out to use the stairs.

“So who’s sleeping with who?” Laila asks.

“I thought that was obvious,” Lucas snickers, wrapping his arms around her and Ten’s shoulders. He squishes them against his body in a too-tight hug and they both complain for air. “We should all leave these two,” he nods his head in your and Johnny’s direction, “to themselves, shouldn’t we?” It makes sense. The statement is innocent enough, but the sly faces of your three friends reveal their true thoughts.

“Can you not?” You laugh nervously, tossing Lucas the key for room 105. “I’m about ready to hit the sheets, so…” You don’t wait for his response before making your way down the hall, which is a tad narrower than you’re comfortable with. Everyone else will probably end up walking single-file to fit through. “God, this place is a claustrophobic nightmare.”

You fit the key in the lock and try to keep your mind off what Lucas just said. With some success. Okay, not a lot.

You and Johnny have been together for a little over 5 moon cycles now, but it’s safe to say you haven’t done much other than kiss and cuddle—which is mostly fine with you. But sometimes, you wonder how he feels about it and if he’s...content with it? Or maybe even growing tired of it? You feel bad for even thinking like that, because you know he doesn’t care and you shouldn’t either, but…

This isn’t the first time you’ve slept in the same bed together, but now that’s it been brought up, you can’t keep your mind off the subject of doing more. And as if on-cue, it makes your oh-so-familiar self-doubts rise to the surface.

“Are you okay?” Johnny’s voice interrupts your thoughts. His hand clasps over yours, and that’s when you realize you’ve been fumbling with the key in the lock for a good few moments now. He steadies your hand and helps you finally turn the key and unlock the door. “You must be really cold, let’s get you inside.”

“It’s not gonna be much warmer in there...” you say. The other three are already raising hell as they try to squeeze past each other in the small corridor, and you know it’s going to be a long few days.

The room is just as small as you expect it to be—and just as cold. There’s a heating and air conditioning unit by the window, though you doubt even it works judging by the room’s temperature. “Sometimes I feel like we never left Earth. Some of this stuff is so similar…” You wonder if the motel was purposely modeled after its Earth-based counterparts, or if there simply weren’t enough funds to spring for more advanced alien tech.

You don’t know a lot about Kankara, but you’ve heard it mostly described as a vast and cold-hearted place. The latter characteristic is undeniable of the weather, but you don’t know if you can make that kind of snap judgment for the planet’s inhabitants. Living somewhere like this will make anyone’s ambitions and hopes shrink to near nothingness, centering more on survival than basic pleasures.

“Takes getting used to,” Johnny sighs, closing the door and stripping off his two outer jackets as carefully as possible. “It’s like déjà vu.”

“You should get cleaned up,” you say, fiddling with the switches on the HVAC. As you thought, nothing works. That’s lovely.

“You should go first.” Johnny comes over to you and rubs his hands on your arms to try and warm you up.

“No way, I’m not the injured one here. I’d think you need it more than me.”

“Isn’t the first and probably won’t be the last. I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure?”

Johnny moves your braids to the side and kisses your cheek in what is usually an innocent gesture. Him saying, “Don’t make me beg,” immediately after, though, makes it decidedly less so.

“O-okay,” you squeak, rushing to grab your clothes and head to the bathroom.

The bathroom is plain as hell, but clean, at least. You scrub off as much of the day’s dirt and grime as you can. Thankfully, the water isn’t as cold as the rest of the place, but it still isn’t as warm as you’d prefer.

Johnny takes his turn after you dress and come out. You climb onto the bed and notice that a portion of the window is in view—he must’ve pushed the drapes back. You stare out of the glass, watching the snow fall endlessly and wondering how it never piles higher. It’s as if the planet is in stasis, perpetually frozen on both a physical and time-based level.

Johnny comes out of the shower shirtless and looking not much happier than he was when he got in. His mouth is tucked into that straight line that always makes you laugh. “The hot water only lasted about 2 more minutes before it cut out on me, so that was fun.”

You try not to snort. “That’s tragic, Johnny.”

“Truly a modern tragedy,” he says sarcastically, brushing his wet bangs out of his eyes. He glances at you over his shoulder as he puts his worn clothes away. “Maybe we could take a shower together next time.”

“I’m sure,” you murmur, embarrassed, tucking your knees up close to your chest.

You glance at the wound just below the left side of his ribcage. It’s mostly scar tissue, no thanks to the cauterizing heat of the blaster shot that struck him, but it still looks horrible. And it must feel similarly, with the way he moves around the room being extra careful of it.

“You need to redress it,” you tell him.

“I know,” he sighs, his shoulders slumping at the thought of doing that. Johnny turns back to look at you, a pout on his bow-shaped lips. “Will you help me?”

A small smile crosses your lips. “Okay.” Johnny roots around in his pack for the medical supplies he remembered to pack before you all ditched the ship. He takes out the roll of bandages, AntiBac Gel, and bandage clips and hands them to you before gingerly climbing on the bed, propping a pillow against the headboard to lean on.

“We’re lucky we got away when we did,” you say, spreading the AntiBac over the wound. “Those bastards wouldn’t let up…”

“We definitely would’ve been way worse off without the others,” Johnny agrees. He glances at your hand moving across his skin. “Seeing you fight always reminds me of when we first met, though…all those training sessions we had, I mean.”

“Why?” You grimace slightly at the scarred edges of the wound. Not because you’re disgusted, but because you feel bad at how painful it looks.

“Back then, you were ruthless…and it fascinated me. Even though I’m not a huge fan of violence.” His lips twitch as if he doesn’t mean to smile about it, but he does anyway. “And you’re still the same but it’s...like, different, you know?”

“I’m afraid I don’t.” You laugh, unraveling the bandage and beginning to wrap it around his chest.

“I can’t explain it,” he says, looking at you from behind his still-soggy bangs. You glance at him, drinking in the curve of his cheekbones and his chin in the light of the bedside lamp. “It’s just...everything seems a little different when you’re in love with someone.”

Your fingers falter with the bandage for a second, and you hope he doesn’t notice. If he does, he doesn’t acknowledge it. “I suppose I can’t argue with that,” you say. “But...I’m just doing what has to be done. To keep ourselves alive. It gets scary out there, and…” You falter, unsure what to say. Or if you should say what you’re thinking.

“And you can’t live without me?” Johnny says, putting his hand over his heart.

“You literally never get tired, do you?” You grin, finishing the bandage and securing it with the clips.

“I dunno, sometimes. I am just a human, after all.” Johnny brings a hand up to tuck a stray braid back into your scarf. He lies back on the small bed when you’re done, taking your hand in his and kissing it. “Thank you, my queen. How can I ever repay you from saving me from a certain demise?”

“You’re such a clown.” You shake your head, laughing and pulling away from him long enough to put away the makeshift first-aid kit.

After you store the supplies, you climb back onto the bed. It’s barely enough for the both of you, let alone Johnny’s big body, and you find yourself nearly on top of him. You mentally will your palms not to sweat as you sit in such close proximity to him while he’s half-naked. You do enjoy it, though. A lot. You find yourself tracing one of his many old scars—one long line extending across his bicep—with your gaze.

“Didn’t you get that one from the day we escaped the EECA?” you ask quietly.

Johnny glances at it and nods, his lips curling into a slight smile. “Mm...yeah. Remember when Lucas kissed you that day?”

“I don’t want to remember.” Your skin grows hot with the memory, though more out of embarrassment than anything else.

“Did you enjoy it?” His eyes crinkle with laughter.

You give him a skeptical look. “No, not really!? We didn’t know each other that well then, and I don’t like having my personal space invaded.”

Johnny considers that, tucking his bottom lip between his teeth before looking at you. “What about me?” His tone lowers and he inches closer, glancing at your lips.

You raise your eyebrows and place a hand on his chest. “I know you aren’t trying it with a serious wound right now.”

“I’m already halfway hard.” He smirks, adjusting his sleep pants.

Your chest warms straight through, enough to make you forget all about the frigidness of the motel room. You feel both anxious and enthralled. The two emotions create a conflicting dichotomy inside of you, and it makes you uncertain of how to respond. You shove his shoulder, making sure to be careful of his side. “What kind of freak gets off on having their wounds tended to?”

You both laugh, but Johnny grins nervously after a moment, suddenly becoming much more shy than he was a few minutes ago. “You know it’s all just me being silly, right? You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. I just want you to be comfortable.”

You just hum and look at him, regarding his features, before kissing him very tenderly on the lips. “I know, John.” After you pull away, you continue observing each other, though it doesn’t feel awkward, just—tense. Without a word, you both lean in and kiss again, a little deeper than before. His hand cradles the side of your face and neck, drifting between the two as if he isn’t sure where to settle.

Johnny licks into your mouth and you respond in kind, sliding your arm across his shoulders to pull him a little closer. Your touch is often still tentative with him, especially when you’re more intimate like this, still not quite sure if you’re allowed to have this, if it’s okay to indulge.

Johnny pulls away slightly to rest his forehead on yours, his lips still moving against your mouth when he speaks. “We...really don’t have to if you’re not ready,” he says, sounding slightly winded from the kiss alone.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” you respond. You touch the hem of the bandages where they meet his skin, a little above his abs, and your hand keeps hovering there, unsure if you can touch him that way.

“It doesn’t matter,” he responds, moving closer to kiss you again.

You don’t know how long you sit there simply kissing each other, tasting each other’s lips as if there will never be enough of this—this sweetness shared between you.

After a beat of hesitation, you allow yourself to touch his abdomen, feeling the firm indentations of muscle underneath your hand. He’s impossibly warm even though you’re on an ice planet—it’s like he’s his own personal space heater. His skin is soft under yours, and he smells good enough to drown in forever.

In response to your touches, Johnny’s hand leaves your face and travels to your side, sliding down your waist and lower to your hip. His fingers are close to the inside of your thigh, moving over the fabric of your pajama pants.

Your hand drifts to the waistband of his pants, too, though you hesitate to go further. You realize with a bit of surprise, though, that you very much want this, more than you possibly let yourself believe. There are still many things you’re apprehensive about doing or saying with Johnny, but in this present point in time, you feel positive that you want to feel him in, around, under, over top of you—it doesn’t matter how.

Johnny’s lips separate from yours, and he moves his mouth to the soft skin of your cheek, ear, jaw, neck. Wherever he can reach is fair game at this point. “You can touch me. If you want.” He says this while kissing your neck, letting his voice vibrate across your nerves and seep into the very fibers of your being.

You take up his offer.

You tentatively slide your hand past the waistband. You don’t go underneath his underwear, but that’s fine for you. For the both of you. Instead, you feel him over the fabric, caressing the curve of his hardening cock and teasing the sensitive head with trembling fingers. Johnny moans softly against your neck, sighing and pressing his hips a little closer into your hand.

“Should I let you have all the fun?” he asks, kissing your throat.

“No,” you reply, breathless but still amused, “that wouldn’t be very fair, would it.”

Johnny vocalizes his pleasure and agreement when his fingers slip lower, pressing between your legs and gliding over your clit through the layers of your clothing. Your breath hitches, but you don’t stop stroking his dick, and he grows bolder with his own actions, sliding his hand up and away—only for a second—and then down into your pants, burdened with one less layer and giving you more calculating touches.

He strokes your clit as if he’s never touched anything so gently, and it makes you grip the back of his damp head and pull him closer to you, if at all possible. He answers that need for proximity by coming back up to claim your lips again, your tongues gliding against each other’s in the room’s quiet.

Your fingers are sticky from Johnny’s precum leaking into his underwear and onto your hand, and likewise, you are growing increasingly wetter in his hold.

Johnny moves as if he means to climb on top of you, but he winces and grunts halfway through the motion and you stop, looking at him with wide eyes.

“Are you hurt? I told you this wasn’t a good idea…”

“Stop worrying about me,” he says, though he doesn’t try to move again. “It’s just a little pain...but, um...maybe on the side is better.”

You nod, and you both spend a few awkward seconds shuffling around on the bed so Johnny is spooning you instead, your back to his front. You feel a little disappointed about not being able to see him, but that dissipates when he resumes touching you and kissing your nape. You mean to reach behind you to take care of him, too, but he seems content with gently rocking his hips against your ass, grinding his dick between your cheeks.

“Is this enough for you?” he asks, his voice soft and deep.

“W-what?” You can guess what he means, but being asked takes you off guard.

“Do you like how I’m touching you?” Johnny applies a little more pressure on your clit when he asks this, and you try unsuccessfully to not shudder like a leaf in a windstorm at the sensation. Combined with the sound of his voice, it’s an electrifying kind of feeling. “Or do you want more?”

It seems like every part of your body is throbbing with yes. “I...want more.”

Johnny lays a kiss against your shoulder. You feel him pull your underwear to the side and drag his middle finger against your clit and down to your hole, teasing you as if he doesn’t think he’ll insert it. Your body tenses and you moan. You don’t know if you should press back against his dick or into his hand, and it’s the sweetest, yet hardest, decision you’ve ever had to make.

Johnny finally eases his finger inside of you and makes a sound you can’t quite distinguish. “Is this all for me?”

“W-who else would it be for?” Your words are almost lost to the pillow as you use it to muffle your increasing sounds.

“I’m flattered, really. You shouldn’t have,” he snickers, pumping his finger into you. He makes sure to drag his palm across your clit as he does, carefully but firmly enough to make you pant. He caresses your inner walls until he finds your G spot and then focuses his energies on pleasuring that part of you.

“Shit...Johnny…” You curl your fingers into the fabric of the sheets beneath you.

Johnny slips another finger into you, and the stretch sets your nerves on fire with a more intense bliss. His mouth returns to your skin, kissing and licking and biting you everywhere.

“Johnny, please…” You reach back to grasp his hair, needing something to hold onto. He slips his right hand to your front, grasping one of your breasts through your shirt and running his thumb over the hardened nipple. You two are a tangle of limbs at this point, blurring into each other in the best possible way.

Your abdomen grows tense and your stomach warms as you come closer to your orgasm. You find yourself gripping Johnny’s arm, wanting him deeper inside of you, yet nearly wishing he’d stop for fear of being overwhelmed.

“Are you gonna come? Good. I wanna feel you gush around me,” Johnny whispers into your ear. He slips his right hand past the collar of your shirt, palming your bare breasts and pinching your nipples between his fingers.

You moan brokenly as the cord tethering you to your composure snaps, making you come and clench around Johnny’s fingers. The sound of him fucking you with his hand grows wetter, and you hear Johnny cursing in response.

Just when you think you can’t take anymore of his fingers curling into your spot, he pulls them out and puts them in his mouth, sucking them clean.

“You taste so good.” Johnny sounds drunk with lust—as if him rutting against your ass wasn’t enough of an indicator. You crane your head towards him, grip his chin, and bring his lips down to yours, tasting yourself on his mouth. He kisses you hungrily as soon as your lips meet. You almost have to pry him away to say your next words.

“I want more...” you say quietly against his lips.

Johnny smirks. “How much more?”

“You know what I want.”

“Hm...do I?”

“John…”

“Yes, queen?”

You blow air through your nose in lieu of cackling outright. “Inside me, please.”

Johnny gives you a soft peck before gripping the waistband of your underwear and pushing it down your legs. You help him slide them off the rest of the way, and he does the same for himself. His dick springs up between you, flushed and wet with precum. He grips it and guides it between your thighs, though he doesn’t enter you just yet.

The tip is sticky as it pokes against your thigh and then slides through your lower lips. You shudder at feeling him so close to you, hard and warm and yearning. He rubs against you like that for a few moments, his shaft stimulating your clit and making you leak onto him even more, his dick glistening with it. Johnny grasps your hip and moves your body in tune with his own movements, and you swear you see a tiny explosion of stars every time the vein on his cock rubs your clit.

“You’re killing me,” you sigh, rolling your head against the pillow before quickly stopping. You don’t need the hassle of retying your scarf if it comes off—and God knows it will if you continue.

“I think I’ve tortured us both enough.” Johnny places the tip at your entrance and slowly inches inside. Even that much makes you gasp, and you continue whimpering as he spreads you open with his thick shaft. Johnny’s breaths grow more labored, and he groans long and low when he finally bottoms out.

There’s little room left for words when he starts thrusting, taking it slower than you expected—but you don’t mind. Even though you’re already soaking and pliable from his earlier actions, he takes his time with fucking into you, guiding you along his length and pushing his hips to meet yours in an intimate rhythm. When he brushes against that same sensitive spot with his dick, you feel like your body’s been gripped with an almost painful kind of pleasure. One that holds onto you and refuses to ever let go.

It’s all so overwhelming.

“I love you,” he moans, pushing his cock in and dragging it back out with all the leisure in the world, “so much.” Your mouth falls open, and you want to say something back, anything, but you can’t make the words come out. Instead, you’re taken aback as tears spring to your eyes, choking you and closing your throat off to any sentiment you might want to express.

This isn’t the first time he’s told you that. You both know this well. But within this context, it makes your head spin with a new kind of dizziness. It all feels so good, too good, too much to bear.

You bite his arm to keep yourself silent, though it’s too late, and he feels your tears dripping onto his skin. Johnny handles you as if you’re made of glass, drawing your face towards his as he looks at you and wipes your wet cheeks. You still aren’t comfortable crying in front of him, but he never minds.

“Look at me,” he says. Johnny’s still moving inside you, sliding into you all slick and deep, and it makes you feel nearly too vulnerable to tolerate, as if you’ve been flayed open. But you do it anyway, latching onto his warm eyes. His skin shines from a thin layer of sweat, and it makes his hair stick to his forehead. The lamp light hitting his face makes his eyes look like two never-ending pools of warm honey, and he cups your face and kisses you tenderly when you lock eyes, and it’s all just too much.

“John, holy fuck.” You don’t really mean to say that, of all things, but it can’t be stopped once your orgasm floods through you, only it isn’t the violent and quick kind—it’s more of a slow buildup that finally bursts apart, spreading ecstasy through your whole body. You moan and tremble uncontrollably as Johnny slowly strokes you through your climax, still rubbing your clit and fucking into you deep.

Everything becomes a tiny bit blurrier for you, but you don’t fail to notice his own reactions as he grows closer, his thighs trembling from the effort of keeping his pace even. Finally, Johnny crushes your body against his as if you could melt together, pulling out to cum over your thighs and stomach. He buries his face into your shoulder and groans against you, and it’s a sound you think you’ll want to hear for the rest of your life. He keeps stroking his dick in between your thighs until he’s spent, his chest heaving from the effort of it all.

You both lie there for a few long minutes, simply trying to catch your breath. You still feel the dried tears on your face, though you try your best to ignore them, not wanting to ruin the moment with unwelcome feelings.

Johnny pulls his hand out of your shirt and sits up, though it takes an extra bit of strength on his part. You feel strangely guilty about how much you dislike suddenly being parted from his touch. As if he can sense your unease, Johnny grasps your hand in both of his and gives it a long kiss before going to the bathroom.

You hear the water running. Then, Johnny comes back quickly with a small towel. He climbs onto the bed and helps you into a sitting position.

“I’m sorry it’s not warm.” He smiles sheepishly, dabbing the washcloth against your cheeks as he erases the remnants of the tears.

You give him a small smile in return. “Nothing on this planet is.”

He cleans the mess he left on your lower body before tending to himself. After he’s done, you both pull your clothes back on—because it’s far too cold to sleep without anything on—and Johnny finally finds a shirt.

In the dark of the room, you curl up against each other to keep out the chill. When you wake up in the morning, you know you’ll be greeted to more cold and snow. It’ll still be days before you can return to your ship. Depending on how many credits are left, you might have to swap a few meals for Reserve Paks instead of eating decent food. You can already taste the lukewarm, oatmeal-like consistency of it in your mouth.

Despite that...you still have your friends and teammates. You still have Johnny. Maybe this could be a peculiar form of happiness. Maybe this could be contentment. Something that belongs wholly to you.

You trace a circle on the back of Johnny’s hand, studying his features illuminated by the moonlight spilling through the blinds. You shuffle closer to be level with his ear, and he blinks at you sleepily.

“I love you too.”

[amberskywrites]

Temporary

“This Love” Collection

AO3 Link || Masterpost

Fandom / Genre: Nanatsu no Taizai (The Seven Deadly Sins) / Light Angst

Pairing: Meliodas & Ban

Warnings: Scars, abusive father, physical abuse (doesn’t go into too much detail), lmk if I need to add anything else!

Notes: “This Love” Collection is a series of one shots that all take place in the same... AU? In this story people have marks which represent the strong bonds people make with others. It’s kinda like a soulmate AU, except it’s not pre-destined love and the marks can fade. Relationships will vary, from both romantic to platonic to familial. Imma attempt to post one of these weekly until I feel I’m happy with how many of these stories I’ve made!

.

.

Ban stared down at his best friend, his captain, sleeping beside him after returning to normal. Instead of the shock Ban had expected to feel, he felt nothing but relief. He slowly let go of a breath when he realized Meliodas wouldn’t be waking up right away, and leaned back to look out across the land of Purgatory.

He almost laughed to himself. It made sense that a creature he was fighting had turned out to be his captain’s emotions.

Glancing back down to the emotions beside him, Ban took in his appearance more.

Meliodas’ emotions looked… smaller, somehow. They looked smaller than the Meliodas Ban knew. The emotions were curled up, almost like a ball, but they looked relaxed as well, as though Meliodas’ emotions were sleeping peacefully in the deepest pits of hell they could find themselves in.

He caught sight of a patch of skin that seemed paler than the rest of Meliodas, and Ban turned his captain’s emotions over onto their back so he could see better. His eyes widened when he caught sight of scars, all over Meliodas’ chest. The scars were like claw marks, slashes through the bond marks Ban had seen a million and one times over the course of knowing the captain.

Ban didn’t know how to react, seeing the marks sliced apart on his best friend’s chest.

He traced over his own mark on Meliodas’ chest, the fox he had become in Purgatory. It had three slashes through it, all clean and perfect cuts, ones that could only be achieved through slicing slowly through something. Ban bit his lip harshly, brows furrowed as he wondered if Meliodas’ emotions had done this, or if something else had.

The marks of the other sins were all in similar states, but then one stuck out more to Ban. One mark was missing entirely.

Ban rested his hand over a large patch of scar tissue, and he felt he might be sick at the thought crossing his mind. Elizabeth’s mark was supposed to be right here, Ban knew this for a fact. Her mark was the only one missing. Someone had gouged his best friend’s beloved mark off his chest.

He pulled away from Meliodas, and crossed his legs. Ban couldn’t do much now besides wait for Meliodas’ emotions to wake up.

-

He wasn’t sure how long it took, but eventually the being beside him stirred, groaning softly. Ban watched him carefully, his captain slowly opening his eyes. The emotions looked stunned when Meliodas’ hand appeared normal, and then green eyes were meeting crimson, and those green eyes filled with tears and Meliodas launched himself into Ban when he was told it was no hallucination.

Ban blinked in surprise at the sudden embrace, his best friend’s sobs shooting right through him, and although it took a moment Ban finally moved, his arms circling around his captain just as tightly as Meliodas’ own hold around him.

Meliodas pulled away after a while, sniffling and trying to dry the tears streaming down his face to no avail. Ban chuckled as he hauled himself to his feet, holding out a hand for Meliodas and pulling the emotions up as well.

Ban didn’t mention the scars - not yet anyway. He was just glad that he had found the captain.

The scars still bugged Ban though, as they jumped around Purgatory looking for a creature they could use to make clothes. In all his life, he had never seen scars on Meliodas. Injuries either left no trace when healed, or the scars would disappear after just a day. But here in Purgatory, it had been centuries since Ban had arrived, and Meliodas had been here longer. Ban didn’t think that Meliodas just got those scars recently, either.

It was as they were making their new clothes that Ban finally asked.

“Hey Captain?”

Meliodas looked up from his work, a big smile on his face. It faded slightly as he noticed Ban’s expression, it was hard for Meliodas to read but it wasn’t a happy or excited one, so worry slowly creeped up in Meliodas’ mind.

“Yeah?”

Ban sat down and placed his head on his hand, making sure to keep eye contact with Meliodas. “Why do you have those scars?” He gestured with his free hand to Meliodas’ chest.

Meliodas glanced down, seeming to have forgotten that the scars were even there. His eyes had widened a little before his shoulders slumped. He sat down across from Ban, folding his hands together. “You want the full story, or the summed up one?”

“We have time, so full.”

Meliodas sighed, mimicking Ban’s position as he thought about what to say.

“So, you know about my curse.” Ban nodded. “Well, anytime I die, I come here. Usually, I’m stuck with my old man until I come back to life. This time though, I cast out my emotions to become demon king,” Meliodas gestured to himself. “That’s why I’m all the way out here. I guess I just… lost hope of ever getting out.”

“That doesn’t explain the scars.”

“Anytime I come back to purgatory, father is disgusted by the sight of my bond marks. He says they’re just a representation of what makes me weak. So, he tries to get rid of them. Each time I come here, he tries to remove the marks, to no avail.” Meliodas laughed, startling Ban. “He’s tried everything! From burning, to trying to get lies into my head that the bonds aren’t real, to just outright cutting them off.”

Ban stared at his captain with wide eyes, the blonde continued though, not really seeming to notice Ban’s increasing worry. “It never works. They always come back, always heal completely. They don’t appear on my physical body, but here when they do the scars remain until I wake up back home and the scars disappear by the time I come back.”

“So… they’re temporary?”

Meliodas nodded. “It’s temporary.”

Ban recalls all the times he had caught Meliodas staring at his own reflection, or absentmindedly tracing the marks on his chest. It didn’t happen often - Meliodas was incredibly good at keeping those things to himself - but it happened often enough that Ban remembered. He had been confused as to why Meliodas wouldn’t really trace the pattern of the marks, but rather, traced random shapes over the marks. Specifically Elizabeth’s.

He wasn’t sure the scars were as temporary as Meliodas claimed them to be.

“Does he cut off the princess’ mark completely every time?”

At the mention of Elizabeth’s mark, Meliodas’ hand moved over it, his fingers carefully running along the edges of the scar. Meliodas’ smile had completely disappeared.

“Yeah.”

Ban wanted to rip the Demon King to shreds.

They didn’t talk anymore about the scars.

[minniemixe]

Beauty And The Beast

Gangster AU

Stray Kids Fanfic

Chan x Reader

Other Appearances: GOT7 BTS

Genre: Smut, Fluff, Angst

Warnings: Violence, Mentions of stabbing, Mention of kinks, making out

Beauty and the Beast Masterlist

Chapter 4

“Where are you taking me?” Moon asked again, trying to get out of his grip.

“The infirmary?” he answered letting go of her wrist

“Why”

“You are going to fix my wound”

“Did you forget that I failed my medic training with Liv”

“No I have not, but you said you wanted to be out on the field, so you have to learn”

“It’s not like I’ll be alone?”

“You never know, what if it isn’t just you, what if someone else is injured and it’s just you two. Would you let them die? You need to know the basics, so you can at least keep them alive until help arrives” Chan explained

“Oh”

“The faster you learn, the closer you are to the field.” Chan smiled at her

“Thanks I guess” she looked at him questioningly

“What?” he raised a brow

“I don’t know. I mean you’re a gang leader but you don’t seem like one”

“Elaborate please” he asked confused

“Like you’re not all cold and stone hearted, killing anything that disobeys you. Back there, there is no way I could’ve won, you purposely went easy on me. Sure I want to be on the field, but who am I, you could easily refuse. Trusting me to treat your wound when I almost killed one of your members during training over a small injury and here you have a huge gash across your front. And it’s not just me you’re like this with, I’ve seen you with the other members. Honestly sometimes I forget I am in a gang, that is why a few days ago I told you I’m more peaceful here” Moon explained as they entered the infirmary.

“Everyone has a story” he smirked, repeating her sentence from earlier

“What’s yours?” she smiled knowingly

“You’ll know when the time comes. Right now you have a wound to patch” he spoke taking his shirt off. Moon blushed heavily looking at his bare back. His shoulders were broad, his pale back, littered with light freckles looking like small stars, she couldn’t help but think how smooth his skin would feel if she ran her hand on his back. Grazing it with her nails, leaving scratch marks, she shook her head snapping out of the dirty cycle of thoughts. However the moment he turned around she wished she wasn’t in the room. She internally cursed herself as all the nasty and sadistic thoughts came back to her, the thoughts she had spent years on suppressing. He was completely ripped, practically making her drool over his well built form. Shamelessly checking him out, for once she let her thoughts run wild. He had an awfully large cut with blood dripping from it but why did she find it attractive. She wanted to collect that blood on her hands and smear it over themselves as he’d take her right there on the infirmary wall. His valcular hands, she wanted nothing more than him choking her with those very hands until her vision blurred. Those lips she could kiss until they were bleeding. His large biceps she’d squeeze and claw at as he’d mercilessly pound into her. Hi- “Like what you see” he smirked

“No, I mean, Yes, I mean, Sorry. Do I really have to do this, I could just watch someone else do it and maybe next time I’ll try it. I don’t want to cause anymore damage.”  she sighed

“You won’t, I’ll guide you through it” he smiled at her encouragingly

“Alright sit down” after much consideration Moon decided to go along with it.

Chan sat on the edge of the  bed while Moon dragged a chair in front of him. “What’s first?” she asked, “First, you have to clean the wound, then disinfect, you might have to stitch it up as well but we’ll get to that later. Right now, get that little tub and fill it with water, there are clean towels in that drawer take one out. And get that first aid kit over there.” Chan said pointing towards the things. Doing as told, Moon grabbed everything and came and sat in front of him. She wet the towel and started working on his wound trying her best to not stare. Chan leaned back putting his weight on his arms giving her easier access. The lower she got, she couldn't help but notice the deep v line that disappeared under his black shorts. Moon swallowed thickly shaking her head snapping out of her dirty thoughts.

"Do you think this will need stitches?" She asked putting the dirty towel away.

Chan got up and went to the mirror located at the corner to examine his wound "No, it's not that deep, a simple bandage will do" he spoke rummaging through different cupboards to collect cotton and gauzes. Once he found them he walked back to his place sitting down as he handed the materials to her.

"Do I have to wrap you with this like a mummy?" She joked

"No. You have to use this and that medical tape to cover the wound" he answered

"Okay so first I have to put the cotton on" she said picking up the said material.

"Woah woah woah, you have to disinfect the wound first" he said grabbing her hands

"Oh. How do I do that"

"God, you're hopeless" he shook his head.

"That's why I said you should get someone else to do this" she whined

"No, this is how you'll learn" he simply shrugged

"Fine, tell me what I have to do" she sighed

"This is the disinfectant, use a cotton ball to rub it on my wound" he told, handing her the bottle. With Chan's guidance Moon was able to bandage up his wound without much problem.

"Alright all done, you can put on your shirt now" she spoke standing up and putting everything back in its place

"I thought you liked it like this" he smirked making her blush

"Oookay, I'm just gonna go" Moon said running out the infirmary.

Closing the door to her room she leaned against it breathing heavily. As she looked down at her hands that were covered in blood all the memories came back rushing. Shaking her head she made her way to the toilet to wash her hands. Looking at her reflection, she couldn't believe how red her face was. Never in her life had she been in a situation like this. She couldn't help but think back to Chan's chiseled upper half. Having enough of her thoughts lingering in that brain of hers she opted to take a cold shower. Stripping out of her clothes she turned on the shower and stepped under the cold water.

As soon as the water made contact with her body she let out a scream, "Fuck cold shower, my body isn't made for this" she mumbled to herself before turning on the hot water.

As she was lathering her body with soap the shower curtains opened. Letting out a scream she scrambled to cover herself

"Even a kindergartner knows the difference between a nose and lips" Bree spoke

Moon released a breath of relief and went back to washing herself. This wasn't the first time Bree had done something like this, so Moon was quite used to it, however she'd always get caught by surprise whenever it happened.

"What?" Moon asked confused

"During training, I told you that if you find yourself in such a position, you bite the nose. Not kiss the lips"

"I did hit the nose, it didn't really have an effect, he has high pain tolerance. Besides it's not like I could bite the whole nose off" Moon explained

"Smart. Analysing your opponent before attacking. I've taught you well. Well, a little advice, don't try this move on Woo, El will chew you alive" Bree laughed

"Ha ha very funny. I won't because for one, I don't want to become predictable and second it was a momentary kind of decision, just wanted to catch him off guard" Moon answered, stepping out of the shower.

"I wonder how many people you've caught off guard with that move" Bree wiggled her eyebrows. The gesture warmed Moon's heart. Letting out a humorous laugh she replied "That was my first kiss"

"Shit!! Girl you can't be serious" Bree followed Moon out into the room

"Apparently I am. The guy I used to like was 7 years older than me, so I didn't stand a chance and he always called me his little sister so yeah, don't really have that kind of experience"

"Oh Lord! Where did you even find this guy? Was he your professor in highschool?"

"What no. He's my dad's best friends son" Moon laughed

"Oh makes sense. But still 7 years, did you not meet any other guys or were they all the same age?" Bree questioned

"I wasn't much social in highschool, had two close friends, both girls. Well Mark had friends, a few younger than him but they were my seniors. I hung out with them alot but I was closest to -oh wow I was closer to the older ones"

"You are an interesting person." Bree said, patting her head. As she was about to leave Moon called after her.

"Yeah" she asked

"What's your tattoo?" Moon asked pointing to the snake skin on Bree's neck

"You wanna see?"

Moon nodded her head curious to see the whole thing. Bree took off her shirt and turned around revealing the entire tattoo. It was a snake, the end wrapped around her torso in three coils,the tail disappearing under the waistband of her shorts, the rest going up her back, over her shoulders from around the neck to her front. The head on her right breast, with its mouth open showing its sharp fangs and tongue sticking out. Moon reached forward and ran her fingers over it. Quickly realizing she was touching her breasts she pulled her hand back

"Sorry" Moon mumbled

"It's all good" Bree shrugged putting her shirt back on

"This is really cool, did you design it yourself?" Moon asked

"Yeah, Ch-SpearB and I designed matching tattoos and drew them on each other."

"Oh yeah, I remember a similar one on his arm from training"

"It's not similar, it's the same, except his is wrapped on his bicep with the head in the mid of his neck, and mine, well you've just seen it" Bree said

"Can you draw one on me as well? Like not a snake but something else" Moon asked

"Right now?"

"Yeah, I mean if you're not busy. I haven't got anything to do so why not"

"Sure. What do you want me to draw?"

“I’m not sure, uuhh, do you have any suggestions” Moon questioned

“Where do you want it? Big or small?” Bree asked

“Leg, and a big one, like on the whole leg” Moon answered

“You sure, it’s gonna be painful”

“Ha pain. We’ve been best buddies since forever” Moon laughed

“Change into shorts and come with me. You’re talking, what the hell is supposed to mean” Bree said. Doing as told Moon changed and followed Bree out of her room

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“Do you have something specific in mind?” Bree asked, taking out her sketch pad.

“Something unique and sexy, I guess it doesn’t necessarily have to be big. Maybe on the thigh” Moon answered

“I have something you might like. Here, check this out” Bree skipped through pages on her sketch pad and showed her the drawing. It was a mix of roses and a crescent moon. The moon was facing upwards, it wasn’t fully drawn, the roses were a part of it, it was one whole piece of a drawing. One large rose surrounded by leaves and few other small roses, two corners of the moon emerged from within the rose, with twinkling stars drawn between the moon giving it a complete look.

“Wow it’s so beautiful, I love it.” Moon said running her fingers over the drawing.

"So this one?"

"Yep"

"Where do you want it, left thigh or the right one?" Bree asked

"Uumm I think this one would suit on the shoulder better. What do you think?" Moon asked

"You're not wrong, I did design this one for the shoulder. But it could be drawn on the side of the thigh as well. The choice is yours" Bree explained

"I think shoulder would be good, I'll think about something else for the legs" Moon decided

"Alright then, take off your shirt and turn around " Bree told

"I'm going to draw on the left shoulder, it'll look better there" Bree told Moon who was now sitting with her back facing towards Bree

"Okay. Do you want me to remove the bra strap?"

"You might have to take off the bra, sliding the strap on the shoulder will still get in the way"

"Oh no, not like that, the strap is detachable. I can take it off"

"Yeah okay, detach the strap"

Getting started on the tattoo the booth filles with a comfortable silence.

"You know, that was very brave of you" Bree broke the silence

"What was?" Moon questioned

"Taking your father's place" She answered

There was an awkward pause before Moon spoke

"It wasn't brave, I'd say it was more out of cowardice and selfishness. A part of me hoped I'd get killed when I walked in. But when you all started questioning me I knew I wasn't going to die and I was afraid Chris would let us both go. So when I was given the opportunity to stay, I took it"

"Did you not have a good relationship with him?" Bree asked

"I don't even know how I'd put it."

"What do you mean? If it was that complicated to begin with, why did you look for him"

"I didn't want to, honestly I thought he had run away. But my mom wanted me to look"

"Aright girly, you're going to have to explain everything, you're just confusing me. One wants to look for him, the other doesn't" Bree chuckled

"Haha yeah I figured." Moon laughed

"Tell me everything. It's not like we have anything else to do" Bree said

"Well, I guess for as long as I can remember I've been abused, physically, emotionally and mentally. When I was young I remember how he'd hit me on every little thing, maybe at that time I thought that I was in the wrong and that I deserved it. When my mom tried to defend me he'd always tell her he'd kill me if she didn't back off. I really wished he did kill me. Until I turned 17 the abuse went on. I'd go to bed covered in bruises, at first it was hard, but then I got used to it. I don't think there was anything that he left to hit me with, he'd even use hot kitchen utensils. I wanted to run away but I always stayed, for the sake of my mom. My younger sister, she too was so fed up with it, she went away the first chance she got. I wanted to get away but I stayed with my mom. After 17, physical abuse got less and less, but the mental abuse got too much. He'd constantly tell me I was a burden. I was too into computers and gaming, and he didn't like that, he'd tell me I was wasting my time and that no one would want me. Every time I'd tell him I wasn't wasting time he'd dismiss me and say the same old shit. Mom however was more supportive. Obviously she didn't know I was earning by illegal means. She only found out about hacking when I hacked into my dad's phone when I thought he was cheating on mom. I guess I was so desperate to make mom hate him I was willing to do anything. I guess the  worst part for me was that my parents' relation was perfect. When I was younger I used to think that maybe he was abusive to her as well, but he wasn't. For some reason he was like that to us sisters. Mom often tried to protect us but it never really worked out. For my sister it was easy I guess, she rebelled and got out. Applied for college away from home, started a little business, and now she's earning millions. She visits from time to time but yeah. As for me I stayed, for my mom. I started by freelancing, showing my parents that I'm not completely useless. Well that's how it went. Cut to chase, dad disappeared, mom didn't want to go to the police because she knew something was up. I guess for me it was a golden opportunity, I could've easily convinced her that he ran away. I knew I was capable. But the heartbroken expression on her face every time she asked me where he was, was too much for me. So I looked for him and well you know the rest" Moon told her story

"You've had it pretty rough huh?" Bree commented

"Yeah well, I got by"

"Do you miss home?" Bree questioned

"My mom yes, dad well it's complicated, I'm definitely glad I left, but a part of me does miss him, he is my father after all. Whatever the case, he did raise me and my sister, yeah he completely ruined us but at least he stuck around" Moon sighed

"What about your mom? When your dad went back what did you tell her? And what does she think you're doing right now?" Bree questioned

"I don't know, I told Dad to figure that out himself. For me, I told Mom I got offered a job by a client I was meeting. Mom never knew I came to find dad, she thought I was meeting a client. I didn't want mom to know that he was involved with a gang, so yeah" she answered

"Do you ever think about going back?"

"Not really, maybe visit them, tell them I'm doing alright, but going back there, I don't think so"

"You must've hated it there alot for you to so easily get settled in a gang" Bree stated

"When I took up the opportunity, I really thought I wouldn't survive. But surprisingly enough it was nothing like I imagined. I think you and I both know what that is supposed to mean" Moon told

"Yeah well. In a way this is by choice but at the same time there wasn't much we could've done."

"So you're saying that you wanted to be in the gang but only because you didn't have any other choice. Doesn't really make sense."

"Let's put it like this. Chris is the leader, he never had a choice. He took it up because he needed to protect his family, his sister Anna didn't want to be separated from him so she too came. But that's a whole other story and isn't mine to tell. The boys had been friends for a long while. Even before the gang was formed. That's all I can tell. As for me, I went abroad for further studies in my major. When I came back I found out that my younger brother SpearB is in a gang. To me that was totally unacceptable. We fought a lot over it. But after a horrible incident I came to realize how important it was for him. Slowly I started seeing how it made him happy, I could never take that away from him, so I let him be. Chris gave me a choice of joining, to be close to my brother. At first I declined, saying I didn't want to do anything with something illegal. He respected my decision and let me go. I kept in contact but that proved dangerous and after some times I couldn't see him or even talk to him and I hated that, so I joined. Ironic isn't it, I spent so many years majoring in law and ended up joining a gang. I kept telling myself that I couldn't fit in, but I was proved wrong. Just like you, it was nothing like I imagined. That's why after some time I came to love it and understood why SpearB didn't want to leave." Bree explained

"To me it seems more of a family than a gang" Moon stated

"It is and soon you'll be a part of it too"

"What if I'm not cut out for it?" Moon asked

"You are, I can see it"

"How come. After I just told you I ran away from my father selfishly, you still think I'd be loyal?" Moon questioned

"I haven't seen it like that. You just told me you grew up in an abusive household. When your father disappeared you had a choice of convincing your mom that he wasn't coming back. But you still looked for him, for the sake of your mother. Which just shows you're not selfish. Yes you may have joined stray kids to get away from your father but that's only normal, anyone would've done that. Don't put yourself down so much. If we had thought you're not cut out for it we'd have taken care of you a long time ago. You've been here almost a year now and it's no coincidence." Bree reassured the younger girl

"Thanks, this was nice, I haven't had a normal conversation in a long time"

"It's all good kiddo" Bree patted Moon's head making her laugh

"Well you're done, and it's dinner time so let's go" Bree said checking her phone

Quickly putting on her shirt, the two exited the booth to join the others.

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"Let's start from this, get a proper hang of this and we'll move to bigger guns" El said handing Moon a gun

"This is the safety, you have to turn it off before you shoot, make sure you don't point the gun at a living being unless under attack, accidentally pulling a trigger on someone is not funny. Stand straight, shoulders pulled back, now put your left hand under the megazine, here. Grip the gun here and put your index finger on the trigger. Now stand rigid and straight, when you pull the trigger there will be a lot of pressure. This is called the front sight, this where you take the aim from. Now that’s your target, point the gun towards it and try to get a good hit” el instructed, guiding Moon’s hands.

Taking aim, Moon fired the gun multiple times. Missing the targets the first two times, Moon realigned herself and tried again. This time she hit all the targets perfectly.

“What the hell. Have you ever fired a gun before” El questioned

“No but if it’s of any use, I was top of my archery class” Moon said

“Oh, that explains it”

“Explain what?” Moon questioned

“How you were able to hit the targets perfectly so quickly. Getting a hang of the gun isn’t that hard, but getting your aim right is difficult, but since you already have practice in that area, you got the grasp of it quickly”

“I guess that’s a good thing then, I’m learning quickly” Moon smiled

“Don’t get ahead of yourself missy, that was just the hand gun”

“Oh”

“Yeah. Shoot two more rounds and we’ll move on to the rifle” El told the younger

“Here put this on your shoulder” El said handing Moon shooting gear

“What’s this? How do I strap it on” Moon asked

“It’s to protect your shoulder, until you learn how to properly handle the rifle, you’ll need to wear this” El said helping Moon with putting on the shoulder pad

“This is a rifle, this is harder to use. Brace this against your shoulder, hold it from here with your left hand and put your right index finger on the trigger. Take the aim from here and shoot.”  El instructed once again.

Following the given instructions Moon pulled the trigger, however the force was more than she could handle, losing her balance she fell on her back. El moved towards her and helped her up

“Learning fast are we?” El spoke sarcastically

“God, I need to build strength for this”

“That you do. C'mon let's go again, let me help you this time"

El stood behind Moon and guided her hand on the weapon, "Okay, shoot again" this time Moon only stumbled a little since El was hugging her body from behind, steadying her.

"I missed it again" Moon groaned

"It's okay, this is going to take time" El assured her

This went on for weeks, Moon practicing on the rifle. She still wasn't able to hit her target but was able to fire the gun without falling back.

"What's the progress" Woo asked coming in with two mugs, handing one to El

"She's getting better, she can shoot without me now, so that's progress enough" El answered

"When can I take over?"

"I don't think she's good enough to shoot moving targets yet"

"What about a pistol?" he asked

"She only practiced that on day one, she got that pretty quickly."

"Then we'll just practice on moving targets with that one"

"Shouldn't she at least know how to use a rifle" El questioned

"Babe, look at her size, she can barely hold the rifle right, how do you expect her to shoot perfectly with it. She wants to be on the task force anyway, she's good with a handgun." He answered

"Well you're not wrong, I guess she's done for the day, she can start tomorrow with you then"

"You go tell her, I'll go tell Chan her progress" Woo said

"Today you'll be shooting moving targets, with your handgun. Once you learn how to perfectly do that you'll pass phase two" Woo explained to Moon

"What about the rifle?" She asked

"It's a waste of time. You're not strong enough to handle one of those"

"I can learn" Moon tried to defend herself

"The rifle is twice is your size"

"IT IS NOT"

"My point is, if you're not a snipper, it's not that important, just learn how to perfectly shoot with a handgun and you'll be fine on the task force. Now that we're done arguing let's begin."

Moon shot round after round and only managed to hit one target, that too in the arm only.

“Keep practicing, I’ll be back in a few minutes”

After a month of practicing, Moon was finally able to hit every target smoothly. Another day of practice, she casually walked inside the shooting range. She was greeted by a not so appropriate scene. Woo and El were making out against the wall, with his hands under her shirt. They didn’t seem to notice her so she quickly turned around to leave, only to bump into something, she looked up to see Chan looking down at her

“What’s wrong with you? You look like you just saw- why’s your face so red” He asked

“Oh nothing”

“Anyways come with me” he said grabbing her wrist and dragging her inside

“I don’t think that’s a good-” Chan stopped in his track taking in the sight in front of him “-idea” Moon completed her sentence

“You two just can’t get enough of each other huh?” Chan spoke, making the two jump apart.

“Get a girlfriend and you’ll know” Woo retorted

“Working on that one”

“Really, what’s the progress on that” El wiggled her brows

“One kiss” Chan smirked, Woo immediately understanding who he was talking about.

Moon just stood there awkwardly, El came and slung her arm around Moon’s shoulder “So what brings you here boss?” El asked

“Oh My Gosh, you’re so annoying” Chan exclaimed

“You didn’t answer the question”El said

“Well we have a problem”

“What kind of problem" the atmosphere getting serious

"Nothing major. Looks like you'll get your field test after all princess" Chan said looking at Moon

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"Two weeks ago a drug trade took place in a nightclub. Things however did not go as expected and a lot of shit went down. It was a set up. The problem for us however is that whoever was behind this setup is someone we've had dealings with in the past. Unfortunately for us we don't know which dealer. Whoever they are, they're trying to get us in trouble with the law. Some sort of weapon trade is taking place in an abandoned building at the outskirts of the city. This is between our rival, and another gang. What we have to do is stop it. It's again a set up and if we don't intervene, we might all end up in jail. However it is essential we do this anonymously" Chan explained as everyone was gathered in the meeting hall

“What’s our strategy?” SpearB asked

“Woo, Bree, El and J.One will be stationed at the 4 corners of the building. Lee Know, Freckles and SpearB, you’ll have to go inside the building while the transaction is taking place, you guys are the eyes and ears. Dandy and I.N, you two take the van, circle the area with drones, keep an eye out and track everyone. HH, you take Moon and hide at the front entrance, no one goes in or comes out undetected. Liv and Anna are with me.” Chan told

“What’s the main plan?” Woo questioned

“Once we know who’s setting us up, we kill them. Our main goal is to turn them against each other, no one gets out alive. We shoot the first bullet on my command and then let them fight.” Chan finalized.

“What if we get exposed?” Bree stated

“Like I said, no one gets out alive, no witnesses” Chan answered. Something about the way he said those words sent shivers down Moon’s spine. Not in a chilling way, rather a very unholy way. That’s how she knew, she was getting closer to losing it.

“You all know the plan?” Chan asked as they all stood in an empty field. Everyone replied with a short yes as they all dispersed. “Good luck kiddo” Lee Know said, patting Moon’s head.

“So we’re supposed to just sit and keep an eye on who comes out and goes in?” Moon asked Hyunjin as the two sat behind a rock in front of the building

“It may not seem important, but that’s because you don’t really know the faces. With time you’ll understand” Hyunjin said

“So who exactly are we looking for”

“Anyone who shouldn’t be here”

“And who might tha-Mark?” Moon said looking at the man in the entrance

“How do you know him?” Hyunjin questioned

“I have to be mistaken” she whispered squinting her eyes trying to get a better look

“Ow” she exclaimed holding her foot

“What happened?”

“I twisted my foot”

“How the hell did you do that?”

“I accidently sat on it”

“Idiot. Let me see”

Moon tried to move slowly but since she was sitting on a slope she slipped away from the rock

“Shit” she cursed under her breath

“Who’s there?” someone shouted

She quickly took out her earpiece, crushed it between her teeth and threw it away. Hyunjin’s eyes went wide and he sneakily slid away before he could be seen by the man coming their way and expose the mission.

“Who’s the-Bitty?” the man spoke surprised to see her

“Mark?”

“Yeah, what are you doing here?” he asked helping her stand up

“Ow” she hissed holding on to his arm

“What happened?”

“I think I twisted my foot”

“What were you doing here in the middle of the night

“I wa-”

“What’s going on here?” another voice asked. They both looked towards the source.

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“Hyunjin what’s the update?” Chan asked

“I don’t know I fled” he answered

“What do you mean you fled? Where’s Moon?” Bree exclaimed

“I don’t know. We saw Mark at the entrance and she knew him, she hurt herself and slipped out of the rock an-

“YOU LEFT HER UNARMED AND INJURED?!?!?!?!” Chan shouted

“I didn’t know what to do, the moment she slipped out , she took out her earpiece and destroyed it”

“Felix, Minho, Changbin, what’s the status? Any visuals on Moon?” Chan asked the three

“Negative, we can’t find a way in” Changbin answered

“Chan something doesn’t seem right. The moment she saw Mark, she somehow twisted her foot and when I asked to look she slipped out of the hideout. Then when Mark is coming towards her, she destroys the earpiece” Hyunjin spoke

“I planted a bug in her hair earlier, Seungmin, connect us” Minho spoke

The moment it connected a high pitched scream was heard, “Let me go!!!” Moon shouted

“HEL-MMHHMMMH” and the line went silent

[redstarwriting]

I Love Her, Mr. Stark

Peter Parker x Avenger!Reader

Request: “hi! are your requests open? if yes, peter parker x avenger!reader pls? while battling the vulture, reader came in to help him, they defeated him but reader got injured (like stabbed or something) then peter realizes his feelings for her (like he loves her and doesn’t want to lose her) angsty but fluffy pls!!”

Word Count: 2,609

Genre: Fluff | Angst

Warnings: Swearing, bad injury, sad and panicking Peter Parker, Stabbing

A/N: After my brain decided to actually let me do things and make me not feel like a waste of space, I went off. I didn’t expect this one to be this long, but I feel really bad for not uploading anything recently. I feel like an extra long one was necessary. I’m going to try to actually start writing a lot again and not be lame, so yeah, hopefully that works out. I hope you enjoy this one and I just wanna say sorry for taking so long to post again. I feel really bad about it. (P.S. I threw a reference to the Spider-Man PS4 Game since I started to replay it recently, points to you if you know what it is)

───────────────────────────────────

Adrian Toomes recently escaped from prison and was wreaking havoc again. Currently, he and Peter are having an aerial battle around the Freedom Tower. Peter is trying to web him and force him to become stuck to the antenna, but it’s proving to be a little more difficult than he had planned. Luckily for him, he has close friends who happen to be in New York who can help him. This close friend is you. And you show up at the perfect time, considering Peter is dangling from his “talons,” his webs connected to the edge of the Freedom Tower as he uses his superhuman strength to keep from being flown up even higher and then dropped.

“Hey, Itsy, need some help?” Your voice rings in Peter’s ear, and he instantly feels himself be let go as you land a direct “magic” hit on the Vulture. Your powers were similar to Wanda’s, but instead of being based off of the mind stone, your powers were based off of the space stone. Peter always found it crazy interesting, because similar to Wanda, you could control energy and shoot energy blasts basically, but he always called it magic. Seeing blue energy shoot out of his best friend’s hands was high-key classified as straight magic and he didn’t care what anyone else said. Sometimes it bothered you when he bragged about his “best friend’s” magic. But that’s only because of the tiny huge crush you had on the kid. “Wow, so glad NASA could make it to help little old me,” he says, quickly recovering and shooting webs at a caught off guard Vulture, managing to slow him down even more. “Oh please, NASA wishes they had me. So what’s the plan with this guy?”

“Easy. Disorient him enough that I can web him to this here antenna so he can’t move until a police helicopter comes and gets him. Oh, and maybe destroy his wings. That would be pretty useful.” “You got it, Spinderella,” you say, immediately flying up to the Vulture. You push him back with your powers, forcing him closer to the antenna and the top of the building in general. It proves to be a harder feat than you anticipate, mainly because he’s upgraded his armor to be able to withstand superhuman strength and abilities. After all, his suit is made from Chitauri technology. You grit your teeth in frustration, pushing him back with all your might, all the while dodging his attacks of Chitauri blasts coming from mini guns he somehow made into armbands. “Damn, old man really knows how to put up a fight,” you mumble under your breath, blasting him with a handful of cosmic energy. he shoots backwards, getting in just the right range for Peter to web him up, which he immediately starts to do. You quickly begin tearing apart his wings with your powers, but it’s another task that’s more difficult than you’d imagined it would be. Chitauri tech was not easy to pull apart, even with your power. Although it was hard, you were doing it slowly but surely. While he was distracted by his wings being completely destroyed, Peter was busy webbing his weapons and webbing him down. When he was completely webbed down, Peter started to help you immobilize him.

“How did this bird brain even escape from prison again?” you ask, pulling apart his one wing while Peter literally just pulls the other one off of his back. “Did you just call me a bird brain?”

“Yeah, she did just call you a bird brain. And now I’m gonna call the police and you’re gonna go right back to prison. But while you’re still here, how did you upgrade your wings?! Those things were so much stronger than last time did you find more Chitauri tech or-”

“Kid, if you don’t stop talking, I will get Schultz to pummel you.” Peter looks at you with his eyes as wide as they can go, and you laugh. “Calm down there, Spidey, you can take ‘The Shocker’ any day,” you tell him, pushing his shoulder. He chuckles, shrugging his shoulders. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. The police should be up here pretty fast, so what do you say we go grab some food at Mick’s and send a bunch of pictures of burgers to Mr. Stark to annoy him?” You two begin walking away from Vulture towards the edge of the building. “That sounds great, especially that last part. Remember that time he literally blew the window up there because he got mad at us for constantly sending him cheeseburger pictures when he was in a business meeting and then immediately felt bad and paid for everyone’s meals and gave the owner of Mick’s like ten thousand dollars for repairs?”

“Yeah, that was terrifyingly hilarious.” Peter says as you start flying off of the side of the building. You turn to look at him and challenge him to a race when a sharp pain spreads through your abdomen. You look down to see one of the talons from Adrian’s boots has pierced your stomach. You slowly raise your head to look at Peter, who is looking directly at your stomach. You manage to whisper out Peter’s name before shock takes over, and you lose consciousness. This is really bad for you considering you were already hovering in the air. 1,776 feet in the air to be exact. Now? You’re plummeting towards the ground. “(Y/N)!” Peter screams, instantly diving after you. He manages to catch you in midair, swinging to a rooftop as far away from the crowd that gathered under the Freedom Tower. His mask disappears and he starts to panic even more than he already was. “Shit shit shit, (Y/N)? (Y/N) please wake up. (Y/N), wake up… shit please,” he has your head in his lap, and he notices his tears landing on your face. “Fuck, fuck fuck fuck,” he starts swearing, his mask finding it’s way back onto his head. “Shit, Karen? Call Mr. Stark please like right now,” he frantically says. “Okay Peter, calling Tony right now,” Karen responds, and Peter immediately hears the ringing of Tony’s phone. After about two rings he hears Tony’s voice. “Hey, kid. I see you and (Y/N/N) are together and I swear if you two start spamming me with pictures of food I-”

“Mr. Stark! I need help like right now, please- oh my god- I don’t know what to-”

“Woah woah woah, kid, calm down. What happened? Are you okay?” “I”m fine! It’s (Y/N)! She’s hurt, Vulture stabbed her with something a-and now she… she isn’t conscious and I just- please hurry up Mr. Stark, I’m scared! She isn’t waking up!” Peter is full on sobbing at this point and definitely panicking even more than he was before. “Okay, Peter just stay where you are. I’m coming to both of you right now,” Tony tells him, and Peter musters out an ‘okay’ before the phone call ends.

Although Tony got there in around three minutes, it felt like 3 days to Peter. He just kept looking at your pale face and thinking about everything you two have ever done together. It ranged from fighting together, then to pranking all the other avengers, then to just hanging out and playing video games or eating, until he started thinking about the little things you did. Like how your head would fly back when he’d say something funny or how your eyes would light up when you saw your favorite food. Or how you always knew how to make him feel better, whether it was you being physically there to support him or just a quick text telling him that you believe in him. He even starts thinking about the dumb little nicknames you constantly come up with. Then he thinks about what he would do if he actually lost you, and started to freak out even more than he was already. He couldn’t lose you. You were his best friend… or did he feel more than that? The thought of losing you just made his heart shatter into a million pieces. He always knew he loved you and you loved him, but he thought it was a platonic love. But was it? His mind was goin a mile a minute, and he was only pulled out of his thoughts when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up to see Iron Man himself. “Mr. Stark-”

“Look, I have a lot of questions that you’re going to answer but right now we need to get her to the tower. One of Banner’s friends is in town, she’ll know how to fix this,” With that, Tony picks your unconscious body off the ground and takes off. Peter begins webbing after him, keeping his eye on you the whole time. Well when he can see you through his tears, that is.  When you all arrive at the tower, Tony takes you straight to the lab where Helen Cho is. She takes one look at you and immediately goes into doctor mode. “Do you think you can help her?”

“I can, but it will take a while. We don’t have time to talk about it though, give me her and I’ll do what I can,” she responds as Tony lays you down on a makeshift operating table, leaving the room for Helen to do her work. He walks outside to see a very distraught Peter sitting on the edge of the building with his head in his hands. Tony walks over, sitting next to him. “This is all my fault, Mr. Stark,” Peter says in a small voice, fresh tears finding their way down his cheeks. “No, kid. Shit happens. I just would like to know what exactly this shit that happened was,” Tony says, glancing over to him. Peter manages to tell him the whole story of what happened through tears, how you two defeated… well thought you defeated Vulture. But he upgraded his suit, and his talons could be shot out at things if he was ever in a dire situation. “I should’ve webbed down his legs, but I was too focused on his wings. I thought he wouldn’t be able to do anything if his wings were down and I was completely wrong and now (Y/N)’s hurt and she might die and it’s all my fault and I’m the worst hero ever and-”

“Peter. Mistakes happen. She’s going to be okay, Helen Cho is very gifted. I know you’re worried because she’s your friend but-”

“I love her,” Peter blurts out, and Tony raises an eyebrow at him. “I… I really love her, Mr. Stark. I can’t lose her,” he says, his voice breaking signifying a new wave of sobs rushing over his body. Tony puts his hand on Peter’s back, trying to comfort him. “It’ll be okay, kid,” Tony tries to stay positive, but he’s definitely worried. He’s never seen Peter like this, and he honestly hates seeing him this broken down. “It’s probably going to take a while for Dr. Cho to fix her up. Why don’t you come inside and try to get some sleep? After all of this you have to be exhausted. Not only did you finish fighting a bad guy an hour ago, but you also had school today and probably just cried your body weight and mine. I think going to bed early would be a good idea,” Tony suggests. Peter only nods, but stands up, walking inside the tower. Tony goes after him and watches as Peter walks to the couch in the living room area, promptly plopping himself down onto it and curling into a ball. Tony goes and gets him a blanket and a pillow, draping the blanket over him and wiggling the pillow under his head. “Get some sleep, Peter. I’m sure when you wake up she’ll be okay.”

Peter hears Tony walk away, but he doesn’t say anything or move. He just stares at the back of the couch, curled up under a blanket in his spider suit as silent tears escape his eyes and millions of thoughts running through his head. This is the exact position he falls asleep in, waking up the next day at around nine in the morning. He’s confused as to where he is for a moment, but then he remembers what happened yesterday, and he immediately feels his stomach start to twist in knots. He throws the blanket off of him, standing up to see Steve sitting in a chair, reading the news. He glances up, his eyes landing on a very disheveled Peter Parker, but Tony let all of the Avengers know what happened. They all were kept updated on the situation, and around two hours ago, Helen finished the procedure on you and you were recovering. “Hey, Queens. I’d go to the lab if I were you.”

Peter began making his way there without hesitation. The minute he walked in he saw you lying there, still sleeping. Tony was standing next to you, and he looked up when he heard Peter walk in the room. “Hey, kid. So good news, she’s okay. She’s going to be okay, Dr. Cho literally saved her life, and she’s just recovering right now.” Those words made Peter feel relieved immediately, and he basically tackles Tony in a hug, which Tony actually returns. “Thank you, Mr. Stark.”

“Don’t thank me, thank Dr. Cho. I mean, thank her when she’s awake. She worked on (Y/N) for ten hours straight. She’s getting some well-deserved rest.”

After Peter breaks away from the hug, Tony pats his shoulder before walking out of the room. Peter walks over to where you’re laying, and he takes a deep breath. You’re still asleep, so he just pulls a chair up next to you, sitting down in it. He grabs your hand, grazing over it with his thumb before sighing. He knows you’re asleep, but he really just needs to apologize for everything. And to tell you how he really feels. Especially since you’re asleep. That way he won’t embarrass himself. “I’m really sorry, (Y/N). I should have seen that coming… I was so scared. Like, it felt like I was watching Uncle Ben all over again and I… just the thought of losing you hurts. I can’t deal with that. The idea of waking up one day without a text from you calling me ‘Spider Face’ or ‘Daddy Long Legs’ or some other demented nickname you can think up in that weird brain of yours just… it sucks. I don’t want that to ever happen. I need you, (Y/N). I really do. I never realized it before, but I really do love you. And not in a platonic way. Definitely not in a platonic way.”

“Took you long enough.” He freezes when he hears your whispery, weak voice. “You’re awake?!” You laugh at his horrified expression due to his confession that he thought you didn’t hear. “Don’t look so scared, Aragog. I feel the same way about you.” “…You do?”

“Yes, dummy. Of course, I do.”

“Oh… well in that case, when you get better, how about we make that Mick’s run I mentioned yesterday a date…? Maybe…?” You smile at his sheepish expression, weakly nodding your head. “I’d like that.” From that moment on, Peter was far more protective of you not only in fights, but just in general. He almost lost you once, and now he was determined to never even let you get a scratch on your body. He loved you far too much for that.

[coliverxxx]

So I have these ideas for Haikyuu!! But that's all they are as of now, ideas, lol (except for one that I actually have one written scene — one, that's it! — but I'm not going to say which is it). I guess I'll just leave them here before they vanish in my mind.

1. Adoptive siblings Hinata and Kageyama separate as kids because their parents, Sawamura and Sugawara are going through divorce. They get adopted again into different families (Hinata gets adopted by Bokuto and Akaashi while Kageyama gets adopted by Iwaizumi and Oikawa) and then, they meet again as teenagers without knowing they used to be siblings.

They hate each other for all the little reasons but strangely, they seem to know a lot about the other. But they really can't remember the time they were siblings. Then, Sugawara discovers he has cancer and he might be dying and he just wants to see his sons again.

Genre: Family, Angst

2. Bokuto gets hired at this super secret spy organization but butt heads with Akaashi on his first day of work because he's too energetic and excited and manages to offend, incidentally, the captain of the hacker division. On his first mission gone wrong, Akaashi saves him and suffers a major injury instead. The new recruit tries his best to improve himself after that and also to redeem himself to Akaashi.

Also featuring the sarcastic but dependable captain of the infiltration division, Kuroo, and the quiet but deadly captain of spiker division, Kozume, and the over all captain of the entire organization, Sakusa.

Genre: Action, Friendship

3. Kageyama is the heir of a known family but being the heir doesn't always mean he has it all good. Sometimes, when the family is going through a rough time, the only way they can save their family is by arrange marriage with a more powerful family. That's what happens with Kageyama as he gets himself in a fixed marriage with Oikawa who is an asshole to him because he doesn't want to marry Kageyama. He obviously doesn't love him because Oikawa is in love with his body guard, Iwaizumi. Enters Tsukishimi who is substituting for Yamaguchi as a waiter in the restaurant they're working for (and hating ever second of it) and who will not take any bullshit from anyone, even the richest customer at the moment, who happens to be Oikawa trashing Kageyama. Basically, Tsukishima is Kageyama's knight in shining armor.

Genre: Family, Friendship

4. Tsukishima always drinks strawberry milk during his high school days. When he is in college though, he always hears his classmates talking about this delicious strawberry coffee. He goes to a cafe and orders one. Kageyama, the one in the counter at that moment, doesn't know how to tell the customer ordering strawberry coffee that they don't sell it there even though it's one of the most popular drinks around the university. He doesn't have it in him because the tall, cute customer looks rather hopeful while ordering. He decides he can try whip something similar to strawberry coffee for him which proves to be the biggest mistake of his life because the customer comes back the following day and orders the same again... and again... and again.

Genre: School, Friendship

The Romance seems pretty obvious that's why I didn't write it anymore. I have four so far ;-; and these are like the most concrete ideas. I have like around fifteen less concrete ideas so far and knowing myself, I'd rather write those ones first than any of these because I feel like all of this has potential to be chaptered fics and I'm not so good with chaptered fics (and also because I am a coward). Maybe I'll write them, too, who knows.

These aren't exactly prompts. I just have to drop these somewhere because my mind tends to be a ridiculous jungle of ideas and these might get lost altogether. I don't want them to get lost and I do plan to write these (if I gain enough courage) ;-; In case someone wants to write something from these though, feel free but please drop them here so I can read, too (and a simple acknowledgement won't hurt as well).

(I swear these Haikyuu!! fic ideas need to stop.)

[onlyinmyimagination]

Love is Blind

Jason Todd X Reader

This did not turn out how I wanted at all ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Maybe I’ll attempt a rewrite in the future but right now I am so tired of this story. I sincerely hope you guys like it more than I do. I’m so done.

Very loosely based on this prompt: “As a dating company professional, I never thought that I’d be able to match you with anyone because honestly, you’re such a terrible human being. But, in our search we found someone who fits your profile, and since you paid us to help you find a match, here is their information. God Help us.“

Also inspired by those social media au posts that float around the fandom. those are bomb af.

Genre: Romance, fluff I guess idk

Sorta social media au/celebrity au??? idk (someone tell me what kind of AU you think this is)

Warnings: Some foul language.

.

It started when Jason needed to quickly get a date to a launch party of some clothing brand by Wayne Enterprises (he never really cares for whatever new business venture Bruce Wayne busies himself with). He was supposed to glam it up with a partner at his side but he had put it off until the very last minute. His solution was to call up a reputable dating company because he simply didn’t have the time to screen the potential candidates on Tinder. And just like that, you were the dating professional assigned to him and he became your client.  

He hadn’t been the politest over the phone. He had been curt, a little aggressive, and much too particular about his preferences. Right away you knew he was trouble. But you resolved to do your best and stay professional. You had to compile his profile quickly and it was then that you found out that your newest client is a local celebrity. Hearing the name Jason Todd over the phone didn’t ring any bells at the time, but upon further research on your client you knew he’d be a challenge.

He had said he needed a date in less than a week and to his relief, you were able to meet him the next day with a potential match. Upon seeing your client in person you realized why his demands were so high. Not only is he the son of a billionaire, he’s also ridiculously good-looking and oddly intimidating. It must’ve been hard to find a suitable partner all by himself.

He had introduced himself, even though you knew very well who he was. He didn’t have as much attitude as he did over the phone, and he didn’t act as haughty as you expected him to be. With a practiced script and a customer service smile plastered on your lips, you invited him to sit at a nearby café while you reviewed the file of his potential partner with him.

He took the information with satisfaction and thanked you for your time. Unfortunately he didn’t last long with the match you found him, and you got another call from him a few weeks later. He needed another partner for an upcoming gala. And thus, the cycle continued to repeat itself, with your patience wearing thin and professionalism quickly dissipating with a few months. Before you met Jason Todd Wayne you’ve had a near perfect reputation, with an almost one hundred percent success rate with your clients. But he was ruining your reputation and it upset you tremendously.

“Jason, did you seriously ditch her last night?”

“It’s not what you think!”

“What do you...” you pause to take a deep breath and calm yourself.  You continue, “You literally ditched her at a party you brought her to.”

“Yeah, but for a good reason!”

“And what reason would that be?”

“Uhhh...I can’t say. But it really was a good reason!”

You give a skeptical look. “Did you even call her afterwards? Did you even think to apologize for leaving her alone?”

“...No. I got a little sidetracked, but I’ll do it right now!”

“She doesn’t want to see you again. I doubt she’ll want to talk to you.”

“Well that’s her loss.”

“Is it really, though,” you mutter to yourself.

“She seemed more than happy with me last night.” Then he adds, “Before I left her anyway.”

“What a coincidence—she said the same thing to me. I painstakingly searched through hundreds of files for her, and this is what you do? After you messed up all those other dates, it’s been near impossible digging up more matches for you.”

“I know, I know. I’m an asshole. But I also know you’ll find me another date in time for Bruce Wayne’s next big gala.”

“Can you at least try to be nice,” you say while shaking your head and rummaging through your files. “Nicer, I mean. I’m trying to find a potential lifelong partner for you here.”

“No guarantees, cupid.”

You eye him as you press your lips into a thin line. “I found a realtor who lives less than an hour away. Her profile is similar to your past matches and she seemed like she’d be able to put up with you. Realtors tend to have a lot of patience. Very admirable.”

“That’s pretty cold of you to say.”

“At this point, the one I feel sorry for is her.”

“Brrr...chilly.”

“From all the complaints I’ve been getting, you’re not exactly the easiest to be around.”

“You’re holding up just fine.”

“It’s part of my job.”

“It doesn’t change the fact that we’ve hung out longer than I’ve dated any of the partners you’ve set me up with. Technically you could say,” he says slowly, suggestively, “I’ve been on more dates with you than any of those matches of yours.”

“Like any of that is my fault. You get dumped after one date almost every time and I’ve got to set up a new match for you in time for your next big party.”

“Why don’t you just be my date from now on?”

“Not gonna happen. I don’t get involved with my clients.”

“A little uptight, aren’t you?”

“If you’re just going to pester me about how I do my job, then this meeting is over. I’ll see you in a week after this next one dumps you.”

“That’s ice cold.”

“We’ll see what happens in a week.” You plaster a professional smile on your face as you bid him goodbye but once you turn around you bite your lip anxiously. You didn’t want to admit his nonchalant invitation to be his date made your chest squeeze. Just the slightest interest toward you has you feeling a little too giddy even when you keep reminding yourself how much of a jerk he is. The more he flirts with you, the harder it is to stay professional. You feel awful and guilty about it, but you don’t get many chances to feel this way.  

Being a professional matchmaker left you on the sidelines as you constantly watch couples meet and fall in love. Finding love for yourself just seemed to be out of reach for you when you’re busy finding love for other people. And pursuing romance with Jason Todd is entirely out of the question. It became impossible the moment he became your client. So, you vow to keep him at a distance.

Just as you had predicted, a week passes and Jason Todd Wayne contacts you again for another meeting to discuss another partner.

You glance at the time and see that he’s twenty minutes late. You roll your eyes at this. It’s nothing new. His lack of punctuality is part of the reason his dates got so fed up with him. Bored, you scan your surroundings and see an ice cream shop next to the café. Seeing no harm in getting yourself a treat, you buy a scoop of your favorite flavor. You choose the cone over the cup to savor your treat. The purchase takes only a few minutes and you’re soon back at your meeting spot, with still no sign of Jason, of course. It’s a few more minutes later when you hear your name being called.

Pausing mid-bite, you turn to see Jason and don’t bother with a greeting. “See? What’d I tell you? It’s been a week.”

He chooses to ignore your jab and says, “Is that ice cream? You bought ice cream without me?” You’re caught off guard for a moment and you open your mouth to answer but he continues childishly, “Let me have some.” His hand is suddenly around your hand that’s holding the ice cream cone, and he’s guiding it to his mouth.

You’re fumbling over your words as he takes a bite and you finally say, “Go get your own!” You snatch your hand out of his grasp and gesture to the ice cream shop. He licks the ice cream from his lips as he looks over to the shop. That’s when you see the side of his face where a greenish-yellow bruise adorns the outer corner of his eye, just below his eyebrow.  

“What the hell? That was not there last week” you say, lifting a hand as if to touch his face. Then you realize what you’re doing and drop your hand again. “That looks bad. Did you ice it?”

“I did. But you should’ve seen it last night, it was so much worse,” he says good-humoredly but then clamps his mouth shut as if he had just revealed a secret.

“I don’t even want to know,” you remark with a shake of your head. You had heard about Jason’s mysterious bruises and wounds, but you never saw them on the visible parts of his body. Your clients on the other hand had often complained about him showing up with mysterious injuries, suspecting him of getting into brawls, fooling around with other lovers, and God knows what. You understand now why they chose to break up with him. Showing up with serious injuries and refusing to offer an explanation as to how he got them (or making some outlandish lie) would make anyone in his company uncomfortable. It’s disconcerting. But the longer you stare at his bruised face, the more you pity him. “Let’s just get you some ice cream.”

“For my face?” His fingers lightly brush over his bruise.

“I was thinking for your mouth or your stomach.”

He laughs and makes his way into the ice cream store. “What flavor should I get?” he asks as you follow him inside.

“Just get your favorite flavor,” you suggest curtly.

“But that’s boring. Predictable.”

You roll your eyes. “Then try a new flavor.”

“What if I don’t like it?”

You act annoyed to keep up a withdrawn attitude toward him. But if you didn’t know better, he seems like he’s biding his time on purpose and you can’t help but wonder why. “Please just choose something, Jason.”

He’s not fazed by your snippy attitude and asks, “You don’t want to share with me?” He stuffs his hands into his pockets as he examines the choices beneath the glass.

“You can share with your next date partner,” you suggest as you continue consuming your treat. He narrows his eyes at you and you hide your smile behind your ice cream.

“You’re no fun,” he mumbles.

It takes an agonizingly long time with a lot of back and forth between you before he could successfully pick a flavor. Then, in an unexpected turn of events, you both end up walking around while finishing your cold treats. You discuss the next profile with him as you both stroll leisurely through a shopping center. During this time, you find Jason isn’t all that bad. The complaints about him have been mostly regarding his carelessness after all, rather than his attitude. But you hate that you find him so charming. As if his good looks didn’t make you curse him enough already.  

The next time you see Jason is after a few weeks and you’ve agreed to meet at a local bookstore. You’re not surprised to find that once again, Jason is late and nowhere to be seen. While skimming the shelves, a book catches your eye and you flip through it curiously.  

“That book isn’t very interesting.”  

You turn to the familiar voice and shut the book. “Then what do you recommend?” you ask lightly, remembering that reading is listed as one of his hobbies.

“Well, you can’t go wrong with the classics.”

“Classics? As in?” you prod with a raised brow.

“Well there’s Charles Dickens, Jane Austen, the Bronte sisters,” he says. “What kind of stories do you like? Or do you like poetry? Plays?”

You hadn’t expected him to ask so much about your interests. But you remind yourself to stay professional, so you steer the conversation to the purpose of the meeting. “We can discuss books next time. I have another client’s profile for you.”

“Still as uptight as ever. Thought you eased up a little since we last met.”

“It was...a unique occasion. I won’t let it happen again,” you say while turning away in case your face gives anything away.

“So I have to get knocked around a little for you to be nice to me?”

“I am nice to you,” you say indignantly. “I’m just trying to do my job and find suitable partners for you.”

“Alright, cupid. Then who do you have for me today?” he asks with annoyance, holding out his hand for the file. He acts almost... sulky.

You hand him a folder and he flips through it quickly. You explain, “They live almost two hours away but—”  

“Too far,” he states as he closes the folder and gives it back to you. His dismissive attitude stuns you and you look back at him with a bewildered expression. Jason had never declined the potential partners you’ve presented to him before. Then he says, “Can’t you just be my date from now on, cupid?”

You blink and take a moment to gather yourself. “I told you, I don’t get involved with my clients.”

"What do I have to do to get a date with you? Am I supposed to fire you? Even for me, that’s kind of a douche-y thing to do.”

Your breath still at this. The thought of being fired distresses you, but at the same time, Jason’s intention behind his words has your heart racing.

“Are you serious?” you ask.

“Yeah. You gotta admit we have fun together, right? And don’t say it’s because it’s your job.” He is interrupted when his phone suddenly goes off and he takes out the device as if he had just gotten an important notification. You cross your arms while waiting for his attention to return to the conversation. As he scrolls through his phone, you wonder fleetingly if he’s simply just tired of all his failed partners you’ve matched him with. “Listen, I gotta run,” he says while stuffing his phone back in his pocket. “But how about we meet again tomorrow? Are you free?” Realizing he’s ready to speed off, you stop him with a pointed finger.

“Hold it right there! You can’t just ditch our meeting today!”

“But—but it’s an emergency!” he insists.

“Then come back after!” you reply. “If you really need to talk to me then meet me in front of the library at eight tonight. That’s where I’m meeting my last client today and I should be done by then. Will you be able to come?”

“Uh, I guess I could do that.” He looks unsure as he glances at the time.

“Try, Jason. I have meetings with other clients tomorrow so unless you can wait a few more days, that’s the best I can do.”

“Okay, okay. Tonight in front of the library, got it.”

You don’t manage to get another word in as he takes his leave. This must be the infamous disappearance act where he just ups and leaves, ditching his partners. Despite being annoyed with his flaky attitude, you’re more bothered by the conversation that just transpired. Did he really want to fire you?  

Regardless of whether he fires you or you resign as his matchmaker, you aren’t even sure it would work out with Jason if you agree to a date him. You didn’t exactly approve of his attitude after all, and who’s to say the relationship would last? You wouldn’t even be able to go back to being matchmaker and client if you ended up breaking it off, and then you would have no reason to contact him again. The thought leaves you feeling strangely forlorn, so you push the thoughts away and continue your day.

Later that night you bid your last client goodbye and you loiter around the supposed meeting spot. As expected, Jason is nowhere to be seen, and you lazily sit on the cement planters in front of the library to wait for him. After thirty minutes, you toy with the idea of calling him. But you conclude that he’s just being his usual self.  

While waiting, you pass the time on your phone. You visit Jason’s Instagram profile, telling yourself the action is strictly professional and for the sake of research. You notice a post from yesterday. It’s a picture of a playbill for A Midsummer Night’s Dream. He must’ve gone to see the play locally. You scroll down a bit to read the accompanying caption he wrote:  

“Love looks not with the eyes but with the mind, and therefore is winged Cupid painted blind.”

“Cupid, huh,” you mutter under your breath. The post has half a million likes and hundreds of comments, most of which are heart emojis. Did Gotham even have that many people in it? You don’t dwell on it too long and proceed to add the activity to his dating profile.

It’s another thirty minutes later when a noise behind you draws your attention and makes you flinch. It sounded like a thud, like something had fallen.  

“Why are you still here?” a voice asks, and you turn to face the infamous vigilante in the red helmet. “It’s late. You should be home.”

Red Hood is addressing you and it stuns you. But you’re distracted by the way he slowly staggers forward while leaning on the side of the building for support. This guy is not in the best shape.

“I’m supposed to be meeting someone,” you say unsurely as you stand. Not many people have had the opportunity to converse with Gotham’s vigilantes. Not as common an occurrence as one would think. “Am I not supposed to be here? Um, should I go?” You can’t help but dwell on his wording, the way he had phrased his words. A sudden thought creeps into the back of your mind that you didn’t want to surface, that you didn’t want to acknowledge.

“Heh. I’ve always thought that seriousness of yours is pretty cute.” Then he loses balance and falls forward.  

“Are you okay?!” you exclaim. Instinctively, you move forward to catch him and the next thing you know, you’re holding up half his body weight. As you help lower him to a more comfortable position on the floor you slowly register his words, and when you do, your breath stills. You had tried to push it down, keeping it at the back of your mind, but the implication is impossible to ignore. The timing is too perfect to simply be a coincidence. You nervously scan Red Hood’s appearance as you sit next to him. “Jason?” you try, not sure what answer you are hoping to hear.

He hums in response then he vaguely says, “You know me pretty well, cupid. Looks like you don’t need your eyes to see me at all.”

His words throw you off but then you’re reminded of Jason’s most recent post on his social media. If you hadn’t seen it, you probably wouldn’t have understood what he just said to you. “Love looks not with the eyes but with the mind,” you say softly and slowly, trying to recall the quote. “And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind.”

“Didn’t know you were a fan of Shakespeare. Or have you been stalking me?”

“I have to keep up to date with my clients’ interests, okay?” you say to defend yourself. “I needed to update your profile.”

“Oh. Right, right.” A short chuckle escapes him but he groans right after and he clutches his side in pain. He leans his head back against the wall behind him.

“Are you okay?” you ask in panic, completely forgetting he came to you barely standing. Your hands hover just over his wounded body, wanting to help but unsure how to. You don’t care that you’re losing your cool in front of him. Professionalism be damned. It’s impossible to control the turmoil of emotions flowing through you, especially the guilt. All this time, you had criticized his awful habits and nonchalant behavior. Now everything about him is suddenly clicking into place.  

“You should be going to the hospital or something with these injuries,” you say while eyeing the blood seeping from his side. You notice cuts all over his body and even the helmet is cracked. “Why did you come here when you’re this hurt?”

“Well I said I’d come, so here I am.” His tone is light-hearted despite the heaves of his chest as he struggles to intake air.

“You’re already super late anyway, idiot,” you snap back, though you can feel tears pricking your eyes. “You shouldn’t have bothered. I was about to leave.”

“Kinda relieved you didn’t.”

“What was so important that it couldn’t wait until our next meeting?” you demand. You figure the sooner you get the reason out of him, the sooner you can get him some help.

“Come on, don’t be mad. It makes it harder to say if you’re mad at me.”

You bite the inside of your cheek and say in a controlled tone, “I’m not mad.”

“Let’s hope it stays that way,” he says before taking a deep breath. “I just didn’t want you to find me another date. I needed to tell you...God, this is going to sound so sappy but to hell with it. I don’t want any more matches, or profiles, or whatever. I’m in love with you. I don’t want to see anyone else. Look, I know you’re wary of me but give me a chance. Even Cupid was able to fall in love, right?”

For a moment you’re speechless but you organize your thoughts and say, “I consider Cupid’s love story more tragic than romantic. He really shouldn’t be a source of inspiration... or object of affection.”

“You’re totally missing the point of my speech.”

“You’re the one who likened me to Cupid,” you reply, trying to keep your emotions under control.

“Oh, so we’re just going to ignore my heartfelt confession, then.” He moves to sit up straighter and groans while doing so. You reach out to help support him but he grabs your hand instead. “I’m serious about you, really. Give me a chance. I promise I’ll be more honest. I’ll try harder to be on time. I’ll keep our dates. I’ll be better, I promise.”

“Okay, okay!” you hastily answer out of nervousness. “But how am I supposed to date you if you’re dying right in front of me?!”

“This is nothing. I just need to make a call, and everything will be fine. Easy-peasy.” He groans again as he leans back. He continues to grip your hand, clutching it to his chest. “But more importantly, now that we’re officially dating, can I publicly announce it?”

“You should be making this call of yours the priority right now,” you say while desperately trying to ignore the heat creeping across your face.

He sighs dramatically. “Can’t you let me savor this moment a little while longer?”

“Well excuse me for worrying! If you weren’t bleeding out, I would let you savor this moment however long you wanted.”

“I can’t help it if I want to celebrate. I’ve finally caught Cupid, after all.”

You study his expressionless helmet. "What would you have done if I still said no?” you ask curiously.

“Remember how I said I didn’t want to be an ass and fire you? Well I would probably try to get you to quit instead. Then ask you out.”

An incredulous expression crosses your face and you ask, “Get me to quit? How?”

“Oh, probably a little bullying here and there. Just me being more of a jerk than I already am,” he says while using one hand to slide his helmet off. You’re glad to see his familiar face after staring at his mask for so long.

“Wow, that is just as bad,” you remark, your voice laced with humor. “That’s an equally terrible thing to do.”  

“Doesn’t matter now, cupid. I don’t have to do any of that stuff anymore.” He grips your hand again and tugs you closer, making you lean over him slightly as a result.

“Yeah, because you made me a promise,” you quip, attempting to maintain your composure despite how close you are to him.

"Indeed, I did,” he says in agreement, his voice dropping lower and making your legs weak. He tilts his head and his lips ghost just over yours. “So now I can be cupid’s match.”

Your lips stretch into a smile. “Then, as of now, I officially resign as your matchmaker.”

.

.

.

[iamapoopmuffin]

Fandom: Nanbaka/Corpse Party (crossover) Genre: Horror Characters: Hajime Sugoroku, Samon Gokuu, Kiji Mitsuba, Kenshirou Yozakura, Jyugo, Uno, Nico, Rock, Tsukumo, Liang, Upa, Qi, Honey, Trois, Musashi, Sachiko Shinozaki, Ryou Yoshizawa, Yuki Kanno, Tokiko Tsuji, Yoshikazu Yanagihori, Yoshie Shinozaki, Takamine Yanagihori, some OCs to take the role of Kizami later on instead of actual Kizami Includes major character death.

Chapter 6 of ?

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The door slammed shut before they could step out, and they heard a loud crack behind them.

"My game!" A look behind them showed that Yuki had snapped the game system in half and thrown it to the floor. Tokiko was pointing at the door, as if she had commanded it to close. Both girls then raised their hands, and with a simple gesture, Qi felt a force pulling at his collar, dragging him back and up violently. The spirits rose with him as he struggled fruitlessly, and then they took hold of his wrists and pulled his arms out straight. He winced as he felt his arms wrench - if the girls pulled just a little harder or further, both his shoulders would dislocate, he was sure of it. He tried to protest their actions, make excuses, claim he wasn't leaving them. The last thing he said was 'I was just going to the bathroom, I swear', and then he went limp. It was like he'd gone into a trance. His eyes slowly shut and his head lolled forward, and the two little ghost girls held him in place, high off the ground.

"No! Let him go!" Nico yelled, charging forth in his usual foolhardy yet brave way. He seemed to hit an invisible wall, and was thrown back into the very visible and solid wall behind him before slipping to the floor.

"Nico!" Instead of rushing to his side to check he was okay, Upa turned back to the spirits. If ever there was a time his abilities were needed, this was it. If there was any chance he could affect those ghosts, he had to take it!

The only problem with that course of action was that something had felt off since he'd woken up here, and he'd not been able to put his finger on what exactly. As if something was weighing him down. When he tried to use his power, for one moment forgetting about the negative effects it might have on those around him, he found he couldn't do a thing. Perhaps this was it. It was like his qi was just out of reach, like this place had locked away a part of him or somehow strengthened the charm keeping his powers at bay. Impulsively, he reached up to pull the tag away from his own head, but managed to stop himself before he went through with it.

Of course, pulling the tag away wasn't a sure fire way to fix whatever was wrong with his qigong. Increasing his power level would also increase the chances of Qi getting hurt. Then again, if Upa harmed Qi with one blast, he would probably still come out better off than if they let the ghosts hurt him. Removing the tag was something he'd been warned against on many occasions. When they regrouped with the guards, he would be in big trouble, regardless of his reasons. Was it worth the risk? Would it help Qi to remove it? And there was Nico to think about as well. This was frustrating. He didn't know what the best thing to do for Qi's sake was, or the best thing to do for Nico's sake. Or his own, for that matter. What could possibly be the right course of action to take here?

He was angry. He was aware of that, and he was trying not to act impulsively. He was succeeding so far, he'd stopped himself from taking one impulsive action. He'd barely noticed how tightly he'd been clenching his fists, but as he relaxed them, he could feel the deep grooves his nails had left in his palms. Keeping his eyes on the ghosts, and Yuki keeping her eye on him, he backed off until he was next to Nico. It was hard to keep his eyes on the ghosts and check Nico over at the same time. He felt the back of his head, and felt a bump. Okay, he'd hit his head, and hopefully a bump was all it would be, but unconsciousness was never a good sign. He looked away from the ghosts and turned his full attention to the injured party, checking him over for other obvious injuries. He found some blood across Nico's back and felt the anger increase, but he couldn't figure out where it had come from. He didn't have much time to look, though, because another crack brought his attention back to Qi and the ghosts.

Yuki had stopped looking at him. She was now looking at Qi, and no longer holding his wrist, though it stayed suspended where she'd left it. Instead, she was pulling at his hair, digging her nails into his scalp. Upa thought if he looked hard enough, he could see a little blood in Qi's hair. On his other side, Tokiko still had hold of his hand, and was playing with his fingers, bending and straightening them curiously like she'd never seen fingers move before. Sometimes, she decided to bend his finger back as far as she could. One of them was at an abnormal angle. The crack before had been a bone breaking. The spirits were laughing as they messed with the unconscious man's body. Like he was a doll they were only too happy to break. He watched Yuki rip a large chunk of hair from the man's head, and for a moment thought he saw some skin come away with it.

He gave in to his temper's impulse and tried to tear the tag away from his head. He felt his connection to his qi returning, felt power surge. It was like being in this place had increased the power of that charm to the point that it completely took away his qigong abilities, but now it was off, he was at full power again. Like the charm had never been there. Now, using qigong out of rage was never a good thing. You need to be able to concentrate and have a clear head. He knew his temper could be a problem, that was one of the things meditation was supposed to help with, but here he was, giving into it again anyway. The flash of light that accompanied his attack against the ghosts hurt his eyes, a stark contrast from the dark and dreary surroundings, and he already knew it was going to hit Qi as well. At least he was already unconscious.

Only, the blast stopped before it reached him. It hit the same invisible wall Nico had hit before, pulsated, caused the wall to become visible - rotting wood, translucent, pulsating as the ball of energy was. Then, the blast ricocheted back at him. "Ah-" Was all he managed before he was blasted into the wall.

When Upa came to, Nico was crouched over him, his hands holding tight onto his shoulders. "Master? Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

Well, truthfully, it felt like he'd been trampled by a stampede, but Upa decided not to say that. "I'm fine, Nico." He managed.

"Oh, good. I was worried there. I woke up and you were just lying on the ground, not moving! I didn't know what happened! I thought maybe if I hugged you, you'd get better, like before-"

"Don't do that." He sat up, biting back a groan, and Nico hugged him anyway. "Nico!" Upa pulled away from the embrace and looked to Qi. He was still in the same place they'd left him, still with the ghost girls either side of him. When they noticed Upa looking, they hissed at him, and Yuki's hand went dangerously close to Qi's throat. The qigong master felt a cold, dreadful feeling pass through him.

"We have to leave." There was just something in his head screaming that if they didn't leave now, there would be hell to pay.

"But the old man!" Nico looked over to the ghosts, and then a look of fear crossed his face. He wasn't a complete idiot. Even he could tell that they had just succeeded in pissing off the ghosts holding the other inmate. Ever since they'd entered that room, they'd just made things worse and worse. "Hey, Master? I think we should leave."

Upa nodded and the two of them got up and fled the room. Great. What else could they mess up today?

"What do we do now?"

"We head back to the classroom and see if Kiji's come back yet, or if anyone else has seen our message."

The two made it all the way back to classroom 1-A without any major incident. There was nobody there, and no response to the note they had left. Nico shifted uncomfortably. "Nobody's been here."

"It doesn't look like it." The note was in the exact same place they'd left it before.

"Should we wait?"

Upa opened his mouth to respond, but didn't say a word as a sound from outside caught his attention. The sound of something heavy scraping across the ground, and of the footsteps of someone large and heavy-set.

"Master? What's that sound?"

Nico had noticed it too. Upa shrugged and went to the door, motioning for Nico to be quiet. He edged the door open as quietly as he could. Down the hall, away from the hole in the floor, a man was walking, dragging something large behind him.

A sledgehammer?

The man was pretty big. Broad-shouldered, probably overweight by the looks of him, but a significant portion of that weight may well have been muscle. He was certainly much bigger than either of the inmates watching him, but if Upa had to guess, he would say the man was about the height of Nico's cellmate, Uno, or the two inmates from Building 3. Not a giant by any means, but certainly decently sized and someone who gave off a definite air of danger and aggression. The man was lumbering away from them, moaning slightly with every heavy footfall. His clothes were grey and black, and unless he was wearing gloves, from where Upa stood it looked like the man's hands were grey as well. In fact, the only real colour he could see came from what appeared to be a doll attached to the man's belt.

"Is that a zombie?" Nico asked from behind, keeping his voice low.

"No." What was it, though? It certainly seemed zombie-like in its movements and the grunting sounds it was making. It was an adult man, and he seemed in some way similar to the three ghosts they'd seen before. Like he was dangerous and deadly, and not really alive. "I can't be sure of this, but he might be the killer."

"The killer?"

"That news report Qi showed us said those children were murdered by a teacher from their school. He could be that teacher."

"So he is a zombie!"

"What? No, he...sure. He's a zombie." He was more likely to be some kind of enraged ghostly manifestation, just like the three ghost children they'd seen thus far. "Keep your voice down. We don't want to attract his attention."

"Yes, Master."

The man made his way towards the stairs leading down to the first floor, and the watching inmates had to consider their next move. Obviously they wanted to avoid the murderer where possible. They couldn't be sure where he was going or what he was doing, but with a bloodstained weapon, it didn't look good. There was also the slight concern that staying in place would mean the murderer would eventually find and attack them, but wandering around aimlessly increased chances of randomly running into him. They'd been lucky to have not encountered him before. Upa moved to follow when he felt the man was a safe distance away.

"We should try and get past him and get to the entryway we saw before. We haven't been there yet, we've only seen it through the hole in the floor, and if we can secure an exit..."

Nico nodded and followed. Upa had already said to be quiet, and he didn't need to be told twice. It was obvious that this was a serious situation. The two moved towards the stairs, not really much choice but to follow the man's path, being careful not to draw attention to themselves.

Then Nico sneezed.

From how close they were to one another, Upa felt a spray of snot against the back of his head. He shot round and hissed "Cover your mouth, Nico!"

"Oops, sorry!" Was the response he got back. "Bless me...I think."

"...Bless you."

Nico smiled and wiped his nose on his sleeve. Upa figured he needed to carry tissues with him a little more often, because having someone else spew snot into your hair was irritating at best when you couldn't do anything about it, dangerous at worst, for someone with a compromised and medically suppressed immune system. At the very least, he figured Nico had just inhaled some dust that had tickled his nose a bit and caused the sneeze, so he didn't think he was going to catch anything from that, and certainly nothing serious. He watched Nico's line of sight travel upward and the smile fade from his face. He could already tell he wouldn't like what he saw when he turned back toward the stairs, and the deep, throaty moan confirmed that before he even dared to look.

The murderer was stood right there now, raising his bloody hammer high above his head, preparing to strike the two boys down there and then. Up close now, Upa could confirm his previous thought, that the man had had grey skin. It looked a bit like it was rotting away, so maybe Nico's zombie comments weren't too far off. His eyes were bloodshot and reddened and dull, and some kind of black ooze was streaming from his eyes and nose.

The hammer descended, coming right for Upa's head.

It was, in a way, lucky that he was used to dangerous situations and could see it coming. He moved back out of the way, taking Nico with him. It looked like they were engaging with this thing whether they liked it or not. With another mournful wail, the man swung his hammer again, and once again the boys were able to move back. The man's movements were big, easy to predict, but they weren't slow, and they weren't weak. When they hit the wooden walls and floors, they caused splintered craters. They couldn't just keep dodging forever, either. They would run out of space to back up, or stop being so lucky. The hammer came for them again, and it came so close to landing its mark this time. Upa could almost feel it against his skin, the force behind the swing. He stumbled and tripped, and landed on his backside while Nico kept his footing.

To prevent his prey from squirming away again, the big man placed his foot firmly over Upa's lower leg, and seemed to press his full weight on it. It hurt enough for him to cry out, but he didn't think enough force had been applied to break his leg. It was enough weight that he couldn't struggle free himself, and twisting the trapped limb in a futile attempt to escape would only serve to cause some real damage. The man raised his hammer again, and this time it would strike the intended victim with little difficulty.

"MASTER!" Nico, in a show of both stupidity and his usual fanboy heroics, leapt into action, levelling a kick at the man's chest, clearly determined to free his friend. The man let go of his hammer and instead grabbed Nico's ankle as the foot made contact. The kick forced the man back a step or two, freeing Upa and allowing him to get to his feet, but the man threw Nico aside like he was a ragdoll. The American hit a wall with a sickening sound, leaving a crater beneath him and crying out in pain. Upa crouched as the man approached him once more, apparently deciding Nico wasn't worth his time. Before he could reach him, a blast of energy hit the man square in the chest. The impact sent the man stumbling back toward the stairwell. With one misstep, the man disappeared from view and went tumbling down to the next floor.

Upa approached the top step and looked down. The man was no longer moving. Nico appeared at his side, clutching his arm and clearly in pain. "Is he dead?"

Well, thought Upa, he certainly didn't seem to be alive. Whether he was truly alive before he'd fallen down the stairs or not was another matter entirely. "He might still move. We should be cautious."

"Okay." Nico went down the stairs. "What's with the doll?"

"Don't touch it." Upa followed him down. He had to admit, his attention had been pulled to the doll as well. It seemed so out of place in comparison to the rest of the man. Upa didn't want to pick it up. Honestly, there was no guarantee the man wouldn't regain consciousness while they were thinking about the stupid doll, and thinking about how messed up everything else in here was, there could be consequences to touching it. Nico reached for it.

"Look, Master, it's so cute!"

"Nico!" He stopped just inches from the thing. Upa gestured for him to move away, and went back up the stairs to tear a piece of paper from the wall. The paper had a messy scrawl across it, likely left by one of the many victims of this school. It was a barely coherent writing about curses in the school. Carefully, he used the paper to pick up the doll.

It was most certainly not cute.

"It looks creepy to me." He admitted. The doll was a simple culture doll, small enough to fit comfortably in his hands. It wore a red dress and a matching bonnet, staring blue eyes and a bit too much make-up on its sheet white cloth face. He supposed the thing might be appealing to young children, or people who were like young children on the inside.

"It has the most kawaii little anime eyes!" Nico insisted, clearly enamoured with the thing. Upa did not like the kawaii little anime eyes. It just gave him an unnerving feeling, worse than he'd felt when he'd been back with Qi in the infirmary. Actually, that bad feeling had never faded out, just gotten worse now they had this doll.

"I am so sorry"

At the sound of the high pitched, tinny voice, Upa instinctively tossed the doll away from himself. It wasn't with much power, more a startled jolt than anything else, which is why Nico was able to easily catch it as it continued to apologise in a slow, rhythmic monotone. He then seemed to start examining the thing.

"What are you looking for?" Upa asked him.

"The button, or the string! Talking dolls have those, right? At least, there were dolls at this one prison I went to that were meant to be for entertainment. One guy tried to use the pull cord on the doll to hurt another guy. The talking dolls were banned after that."

"...It doesn't seem to have any such mechanism."

The doll was repeating the same words over and over.

"I am so sorry

To have killed children so brutally

I was not in my right mind

I was scared too

I did not want them to die

I am so sorry

I am so sorry

So very very sorry

I do not want them to suffer

I am actually a good person

I am so sorry

I am so sorry

So very very sorry"

And then it would repeat again from the top.

"Why is it saying that?" Nico asked, frowning. Upa, seeing his companion hadn't been affected by touching the thing, took it from him and examined it. He found, written on the back of the bonnet, the name Yoshikazu Yanagihori. He assumed that was the mystery man's name.

"I'm not sure. It looks like it belongs to this man."

"To the killer?"

"Yes. It sounds like the doll is talking about the murder as well."

"So...the doll is apologising for the teacher?" Nico suddenly got an 'I have an idea' look on his face. "So he's saying sorry for what he did, right?"

"It sounds like it, but it doesn't sound very sincere."

Nico grabbed the doll back and held it aloft. "If he apologises to the ghosts, maybe they'll feel better and they'll leave the old man alone!"

Upa doubted it was that easy. He doubted the people he'd harmed or killed in the past would forgive him just like that if he gave an insincere apology. Those children had died a horrific death and their spirits were being tormented. On the other hand, closure could be a step in the right direction and exactly what they needed. It was a tough decision to make.

If they made the wrong move, Qi would die.

Upa hesitated. Once again, he wasn't sure what the correct action to take was. Eventually, he asked "How sure are you that this will work?"

It was Nico's turn to hesitate. "I...I'm not. But we can't just leave him! And the ghosts are unhappy too! If this might help them, then..."

He gave a nod. "We can try and see if the apology will make them feel better then. At the first sign of things getting worse, we leave. If it doesn't seem like it's working, we leave. We do not want to make matters worse again."

"Yeah, you're right..."

When they got back to the infirmary, Upa opened the door first, hands raised and palms open to show he meant no harm. The girls were still giggling and still treating Qi as their plaything, but they both showed the two inmates due attention when they entered. Nico came in after, holding up Yoshikazu's doll so they could see her, and gently shutting the door behind him. It was Nico who did the talking.

"Hey, Yuki? Tokiko? We're really sorry we upset you earlier. We were scared, and we wanted our friend back. We thought he was in big danger and we thought we'd be safer with him around too. He can be scary sometimes, but he's also nice, like he was to you, and if he's that nice to you then you don't really want to hurt him, right? I think you're just sad and scared and lonely, too. So we found this for you, and we want you to listen to it! It's from that teacher! It's his thoughts and feelings and we thought it might help to hear them." He was quiet for a moment so the ghosts could hear the doll's words.

The ghosts listened, and then began to cry. They both released Qi, and he stayed suspended in the air and unconscious right up until the ghosts faded from view, at which point his eyes flickered open and he pitched forward. No-one moved to catch him as he fell toward the ground, yelling all the way. Uoa figured it would be fine, he would survive a fall like that easily, and it wasn't like the two of them could easily catch and support his frame without causing further injury to more than one of them anyway. The important thing was that the ghosts had released him for now, and once he got up off the floor they could do a quick emergency treatment for their injuries and get out of there.

He never did reach the floor, though. Instead, it was like his ankles were held in place. He swung until he was suspended upside down, and the momentum even caused his glasses to come flying off and something to fall from his pocket, both items skittering to the back of the room. He was still crying out in pain, likely due to the torn flesh on his head and the broken bones in his arm. None of them were really sure what was happening, but now the two younger inmates rushed forward to help.

Yuki and Tokiko appeared again, each holding an ankle, and just as Upa reached his cellmate, just as his fingers brushed against the idiot's collar, the spirits moved and pulled him away at such speed that his eyes couldn't keep up. It was like one moment, Qi was there, and the next he was gone.

He could register a few things. The spirits had flown to the door, the man held firmly between them, flying low enough that his head was dragging against the floor. He didn't have time to react himself, no time to try and prevent his fate. They crashed through the door, completely wrecking it on the way out, and disappeared from sight. For a very brief moment, Upa and Nico could hear a scream, a raw thing of pain and fear, and in an instant it was ended with a thick sound. Something between a splat, a crunch and a thump. The doll fell from Nico's hands, and Upa took a hesitant step towards the door. He felt sick, like the stress and pressure he'd been feeling from this place was having a physical effect on him. He stepped out, looked down the hall and froze.

"No..."

Frowning, Nico hurried over to stand beside him, and followed his gaze to the end of the hall, where the path turned a corner.

There were no words to explain the sight before him now. The wall at the end of the hall was decorated with the remains of a person, remains that had not been there before. Remains that were barely recognisable as a person.

Qi's remains.

It looked like the impact had torn him to pieces. There were bits of meat and bone splattered wide across the area, the nearby walls, the floor and ceiling...guts were sliding down the wall and collecting in a puddle. It was quite possibly the most horrific sight Nico had ever seen, and he'd seen some pretty bad things in his time. The worst part was that he knew this person, he knew that he knew this person, and he didn't know how to react. A strange squeaking sound fell from the back of his throat, but he couldn't speak. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he thought he heard a sound, but it was probably just the panic.

"I...I can't take this any more..." Upa managed before running off down the hall, disappearing round the bloodied corner. Nico reached out to stop him, stepped to follow.

"Master, wai-" Something heavy struck him on the back of the head and he felt himself losing consciousness.

Yoshikazu lifted the unconscious boy by his ankle with one hand, the other still gripping the sledgehammer tightly. With a dull moan, he turned and dragged the boy away from the mess on the wall, and away from his friend.

[hoyoungy]

Stimulant | RM/Namjoon

genre: comedy, soulmate au, tattoo artist au | tattoo artist!namjoon x reader summary: with immense pain comes immense pleasure, and that was definitely the case when you could feel everything your accident-prone soulmate feels word count: 2722 a/n: i had a lot of fun writing this lol. warnings include swears, mentions of sex/masturbating, and that it’s a dialogue-heavy fic. as seen on my ao3

You hated your soulmate. You absolutely hated your soulmate, and you haven’t even met him yet.

You didn’t start feeling what he felt until recently. The very first thing you felt was a cut on your hand and you started to bleed. A memorable first impression, to say the least. Then you developed more cuts, some bruises, and even muscle soreness. You thought that maybe it was all completely normal. You thought that all of this pain came with the package of finding your soulmate. But when you asked around how long until the bruising disappears, your friends just looked at you like you were crazy.

It was then you realized that maybe your soulmate was either accident prone or a masochist.

Or maybe they were both.

You would go about your normal day being extremely cautious and prepared for all the pain you would have to endure. Sometimes you would wake up thinking that maybe today would be the day your soulmate wouldn’t hurt himself. Sometimes you even sympathized - or was it technically empathized? - because there were times you had to go see a doctor when the injuries were more severe, thinking to yourself honestly, fuck you for bringing me here, but I hope you’re all right, too.

The scarring and bruises weren’t even the worst part of all of this. No, the worst part about being able to feel what your soulmate feels was the random bursts of pleasure that made you go insane. It was fine when it was night time and you were in the comfort of your home - at least that way no one could see your blushing face. But when you felt it in the middle of the day while you were at work, getting lunch, or even just fucking grocery shopping, you had to run to the bathroom so your soulmate could finish.

This morning you had a, uh, pleasant start to your day. You woke up panting, sweating, and flustered, trying to come down from the euphoria your soulmate caused all too frequently.

“Is my soulmate a chronic sex addict? For God’s sake, it’s seven in the morning!” you muttered bitterly. A shower was necessary to wash away the shame you felt for your partner.

In the shower, you enjoyed the peace and serenity the warm water gave you. It was a peaceful ten minutes that you thoroughly enjoyed until it was ruined again only moments later.

“Ow! Fucking christ!” you screamed. You saw some redness forming on your hand from inflammation caused by something. From your previous knowledge, it looked like it was from a burn from cooking breakfast.

How incredibly annoying was it that you already knew the reason for the burn?

“I’ll show you a burn.” You turned the shower handle to the hot side of the spectrum and endured the 0.2 seconds of scalding water all over your body. The pain you felt was worth the satisfaction knowing your partner’s probably cursing you out right now.

Did that make you the sadist? Or did that make you both masochists?

It was a constant battle of stimulation between the two of you that you didn’t even know what was accidental and what was on purpose anymore other than the infinite shameless times he’s had sex. Maybe he thought the same about you, too. What if he thought you were the clumsy one and he was doing the exact same thing by hurting himself to get back at you?

Kind of fucked up, huh?

“Rough morning?” your roommate asks, raising her eyebrow at you. She probably guessed by the sour look on your face as you exited the bathroom.

“Woke up to my soulmate having sex again and a burn from when he was cooking. Who the fuck has the time and energy to fuck this early!?”

“You’d be surprised,” she smirks. “Maybe he’s not having sex, maybe he’s, you know.” She gestures to you a juvenile attempt at a hand job.

“Either way, it’s annoying and embarrassing, like does he not have any shame? I can’t remember a time where I’d go at least three days without having an orgasm because of him.”

“He’s just not embarrassed to touch himself like you are, obviously…”

“Shut up.”

She wasn’t wrong. You haven’t had sex nor have you touched yourself because honestly, you’d be thinking about your soulmate the entire time, and it was embarrassing.

“You need to relax and just do it, _____. You’ve been so irritable lately, it’s driving me insane.”

“I know, I’m sorry, ok. I’ve just been so preoccupied trying to find him for months, but I’ve had absolutely zero luck!”

“Maybe that’s why. You can’t just go out looking for someone with no leads. You have no idea what you’re looking for.”

“I don’t, and I’ve never felt so lost,” you pout. “But maybe I’ll find him after today.”

“Why, what do you have in mind?”

“He’s going to hate me so much after today that he’s bound to show up.”

The malicious smirk on your lips caused your roommate to take a step back from you. “You’re not gonna, like, fling yourself down the stairs so you’d go to the hospital, are you?”

“What, no,” you said. “I’m going to get a tattoo.”

“You’re a psychopath.”

“I am not! If anything, he’s the psychopath!”

“You two are meant for each other.”

“Honestly, that’s so sweet of you to say.”

“Ow, shit!” Namjoon curses. The oil from the pan pops and hits his hand, giving him a small burn.

Immediately, a running Jin snatches the chopsticks away and pushes him aside. “What did I say about cooking!?”

“But I’m hungry…”

“Just ask next time! Look, you’re not even cooking it correctly - you’re supposed to scrape the ice off the dumpling before you put it in the pan so the oil doesn’t pop. You’re also not supposed to use olive oil for frying.”

“Ohhh…”

“I feel sorry for your soulmate. How are you even alive and functioning?”

“Yeah, how have they not tracked you down to kill you yet?” Hoseok teases, pushing Namjoon further away from the stove.

“She’s probably smart enough to know that doing so would kill her, too,” Yoongi scoffs.

“Shut up - HOLY FFFFFF -”

Namjoon couldn’t finish his sentence as he hunched over on the floor feeling like he was on fire. He struggled to turn on the faucet to run cold water on his minor burns. His inked skin was flushed a painful pink.

“What happened…?” Jin asked with wide eyes.

“I think my soulmate burned me on purpose!”

“That’s what you get for being so careless. I’m surprised they haven’t done so earlier.”

“They have! Every time I hurt myself, they hurt themselves back so I can feel it. Can you believe that!? Who hurts their soulmate on purpose!?”

“Oh, I definitely would if you were my soulmate,” Yoongi said. “I’d be pissed if my partner was chronically accident prone.”

“You guys are great friends, you know,” Namjoon said sarcastically as he dried himself off.

“Thanks!” Jungkook chimes.

“I’m going to the shop.”

“What about your dumplings!?”

“Fuck ‘em, you eat it.”

“Don’t hurt yourself too much today!” Jin calls as Namjoon walks out the door.

“Welcome!” the receptionist at the tattoo shop greeted you. “How can I help you?”

“Do you accept walk-ins?” you ask.

“Yes, Namjoon is available once he’s ready - speak of the devil.”

The door chimed as it swung open. A very tall, very good-looking man walks through the door with disheveled hair and a grumpy expression that was all too similar to yours, but somehow made him unbelievably handsome. His expression melts as he sees you and shoots you a quick wink with a dimple-y smile as he passes you.

“He’ll be your artist today. Now, because you’re alone, I assume you haven’t met your soulmate yet?”

“I haven’t. Why do you ask?”

“Those who have met or feel their soulmate need to have a cosigner that states they consent to the feeling of getting a tattoo.”

“Really!?” you said a little too loudly.

“Yes, it’s the law. So have you felt your soulmate at all?”

“Uh, n-no,” you lied. “Not yet, surprisingly.”

“Ok, well, then you need to sign these forms that state that if you’re caught lying, we have the right to report you to the authorities.”

“R-Right,” you stutter, reading the forms thoroughly before risking hundreds of dollars in fines and possinly jail time.

“All right, then you’re all set! Namjoon will call you when he’s ready.”

You sit in the waiting area impatiently tapping your feet. Your nails dig crescents into the palms of your hand unapologetically, with you not worrying about if your soulmate could feel it. To be honest, you were completely terrified about getting your first tattoo. You thought about the design in your car for like, ten minutes and thought up a bullshit reason in case they asked.

It’s not like you were going to tell them you were getting a tattoo out of spite. How crazy would that make you look?

I mean, of course you were crazy, but you didn’t want anyone to know that.

“_____?” The man named Namjoon asked.

His arms were now exposed as he settled into the shop, showing you nearly a dozen or so on his sleeve. Even from far away, you could tell how intricate they were, telling you that it must’ve taken hours to complete each one. Your eyes widened, sympathizing with his soulmate, that poor person…

“Are you ready?” he asked you.

“Yeah,” you sigh, hesitation evident in your voice.

“Scared?”

You take a seat and watch him prep his needles and ink. Why were there so many tools…

“Y-Yeah,” you stutter. “Does it hurt…?”

“Oh, yeah, like a bitch,” he chuckles. “No matter how many tattoos I get, they all hurt as much as the last, although the very first one is unforgettable.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“I’m just being honest! You’re here now, no use turning back, right?”

“I suppose… Has your soulmate ever felt any of those?”

Namjoon sits across from you and gives you another smile with his heart-stopping dimples. “No. I got these way before I even started to feel them. I haven’t gotten one since the day I started to feel.”

“How come?”

“Well, I haven’t met them yet. I’m also an extremely clumsy person, so they experience enough pain from me,” he chuckles. Man, did you definitely related to his soulmate all too well. “I could never ask them to go through with a tattoo if they’ve never had one yet.”

“That’s very considerate of you.”

“I suppose it is. It’s the least I can do.” Namjoon rolls his chair close enough for you to smell his intoxicating cologne. “So what am I drawing on you today?”

“Just an outline of a crescent moon.”

“Simple. I like it.”

“To be honest, I thought of the design in the car,” you said, scratching your arm nervously. “I just want to get the feeling out of the way before I meet - feel my soulmate.”

“That’s cute,” he chuckles again. “All right, this shouldn’t take longer than five minutes.”

He put on some nylon gloves and shaves the part of your arm where you want the tattoo. His hands are warm and comforting, easing your nervousness, although it quickly came back when he buzzes the needle.

“Oh, shit,” you whisper. Were you making a big mistake? Were you taking your pettiness too far?

No, you had every right to…

“Ready?” he asked.

“No.”

“Good enough. It’ll only hurt for a few minutes.”

When the needle touched your skin, you nearly blacked out.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” you screamed.

“Ow, fucking hell!” Namjoon screamed, too.

You both swung your heads to look at each other with wide eyes. At first you were extremely confused. The only reason Namjoon would be screaming in pain is if his soulmate was doing something reckless. Was it a coincidence that he felt pain as you were getting a tattoo? But then it clicked in your head that it was, in fact, you who was being the reckless soulmate.

“You!” you both said, pointing to each other accusingly.

“You’re my soulmate!? Are you fucking kidding me?” you sigh. “Boy, do I have a lot to say to you.”

“You have a lot to say to me!?” You look at him with a blank expression and your glad to see that he nods his head understandingly. “Ok, yeah, I probably do deserve a mouthful…”

“Yeah, you do.”

“But ~ you did just lie about not feeling your soulmate! I could report you!” You silently slump in your seat with a pout on your face. “But you’re really cute, so I won’t.”

“Normally, I’d be flattered, but I’m a bit angry at you at the moment.”

“All right, let me hear what you have to say about my clumsiness.”

You sighed, collecting all of your thoughts. “First of all, how?”

“It’s an innate gift I’ve been given.”

“Do you see all of my bruises?” You rolled up your pants to expose your purple shins. “And this cut?” You point to a healing scar on your cheek. “And this burn on my hand from this morning? What were you even making?”

“The, uh, dumplings had ice on them, so the oil sparked.”

“Frying ice, of course my soulmate would do that.”

“I’m not good in the kitchen, ok,” he frowns.

“Second question, do you have a girlfriend or significant other or enjoy frequent nights out in the town?”

He raises a curious brow at you and you try to suppress any current thoughts about his handsomeness that distract you from seeing him as anything other than irritating at the moment. “Are you making sure that I’m all yours?”

“No, I’m asking you why you have sex almost every day at the worst times.”

“Oh, that!” he said, bursting into a fit of laughter. How he was not even at least a little embarrassed amazed you. “Well, to make things clear, I don’t have a girlfriend, or significant other, or enjoy midnight reandezvous.”

“Then what the fuck are you doing - Oh…” You paused. If he didn’t do any of those, then that meant… The growing smirk on Namjoon’s face only confirms your assumption. “Really? You masturbate every day!?”

“Relax, it’s not every day. As you said, I do so almost every day.”

“Do you know how embarrassingly frustrating and also hilariously ironic it is when I’m picking up an eggplant at a grocery store and I can feel you doing your business?”

“But you like it, don’t you?” Namjoon leans his face close to yours. Close enough that you could feel his breath tickle your cheek. “Doesn’t it feel good?”

“Of course it feels good, it always does, but I like to plan my orgasms, thank you.”

“But that was the beauty of it, my dear. Knowing that as I’m touching myself, somewhere out there, you were enjoying it as much as I was. It’s intoxicating.” He licks his lips and suddenly your mind became hazy. “Didn’t you enjoy it this morning?”

“Yes,” you stated plainly, though blushing deeply.

“Of course you did. In fact, I can already feel that you’re aroused just by the mere thought of it,” he teased. “Imagine the euphoria we could feel together. It’d be twice as ecstatic, wouldn’t it?”

“If you’re that curious, let’s find out.”

“Wait, Really!?”

“After this tattoo.”

“I’ve been meaning to give you a mouthful about that, too,” he said. “How dare you hurt yourself on purpose just so I could feel it. Does that make you the sadist between the two of us?”

“You know, I’ve thought about it before, and I think me getting a tattoo done by you confirms it.”

“After all the pinching, shower burns, and nail-digging,” he paused, showing you the indented crescents on his palm. “I think so, too. Though of course, I will admit to being the fuel to the fire.”

“So long as you acknowledge it.”

“Let’s get this tattoo over with so we can get to the real fun, shall we?” he smirked.

“Can I get some lunch or dinner before that, at least? Where’s the chivalry?”

“How rude of me. I’ll need the energy, anyways, I skipped breakfast this morning.”

[winryofresembool]

Hockey player Ed x figure skater Winry AU chapter 3

i.e. gdi Tia come up with a proper name already. 

Chapter 1 - chapter 2

Next chapter: [x]

Happened in the previous chapter: Winry teaches Ed and his teammates some basics of figure skating, but while doing that, she discovers something’s not quite right with Ed’s right arm.

A/N: thanks again for the feedback I got for the latest chapter, it’s what keeps me writing ♥ This chapter is dedicated to all of you who have supported me in writing this!

Genre: romance, bits of humor, some hurt/comfort later on

Words: 1550ish

@aquietkerfuffle

“Ed, what’s wrong with your hand?”

Ed quickly pulled his right hand from Winry’s and tried to think of a way to avoid answering her question. However, from Winry’s stubborn stare he knew that wouldn’t be easy.

“N-nothing?” he attempted lamely, but Winry didn’t believe that for one moment.

She decided there was no point in tip toeing around the topic, so she asked directly: “Do you… do you have a prosthetic arm?”

What surprised Ed was that instead of sounding slightly scared, like many of those who knew about his automail had sounded when they found out about it, Winry sounded curious. And maybe slightly worried, but that wasn’t so surprising.

Ed lowered his voice so only Winry could hear his answer: “Fine, I do, but please keep your voice down.”

“Huh? I thought your teammates know about it?”

“Yes, but in a place like this you never know who might be listening… Hell would break loose if people found out about this.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, can you imagine what people would do if they heard someone was playing with a metal arm on the national team? They would immediately roast me out of here.”

“Oh…”

Winry hadn’t considered someone could possibly have an issue with an automail, so she was embarrassed she hadn’t immediately realized it. Thankfully, Ed saved her from further embarrassment by continuing: “Yeah. My arm could cause someone some serious damage if I wasn’t careful, and not just that, it’s also a risk to myself. If I hit my shoulder in a wrong way and it got inflamed… that would be really bad.”

“But you’re still willing to take the risk?”

“Hockey is one of the few things that makes me happy, I’m not gonna give up on it just because of this… issue.” Ed looked at Winry darkly. “I feel I owe it to my brother who’s been rooting for me this entire time.”

“You’re doing this for Alphonse?” Winry asked in surprise.

“Mm. He’s the only family I really have left, and he’s reason why I didn’t quit when things got difficult.  He is expecting me to keep doing my best every day.”

“Wow. You know, you keep impressing me. I’m sorry, but my first impression of you was that you are probably someone who’s playing for the money or something of that nature. But sounds like I was wrong,” she added softly.

Ed was visibly flustered. He wanted to say he really wasn’t as noble as he had just made himself sound, but he didn’t have time because Winry asked:

“You know… this is gonna sound weird, but… can I see it? The arm?”

“Uh… I guess. But not here, let’s go to our locker room. It’s OK, no one’s there right now.”

Ed quickly informed his teammates that he’d take a short break and pulled Winry with him.

Back in the locker room, Ed took his hockey jersey off and rolled up the sleeve of his undershirt. A thick layer of bandage covered the arm made of metal, and he removed it too. He didn’t know how he had expected Winry to react to seeing his automail, but it hadn’t been like this: she started clapping her hands and made a high-pitched sound that couldn’t be anything but a squeal of excitement. Her eyes were shining brighter than he had ever seen so far.

“Um, so, here it is,” Ed said awkwardly as he lifted his arm, so Winry could see better.

“It is so pretty! One day I’m gonna build one of these!” she exclaimed happily as she examined the automail.

“Really?” Ed had a hard time imagining someone so graceful as Winry wearing overalls, oil and grease on her face and hands, but on the other hand, she hadn’t liked those stereotypical “girly” things as a child either.

“You’ll see! Oh, but… can I ask you… what exactly happened? Why do you have an automail arm?”

“It’s not something I like talking about… I was 11… and an accident happened. Afterwards I got a blood poisoning and it got so bad the entire arm had to be removed…”

“That… sounds… I’m sorry. I can’t even imagine how awful that must have been. But what made you decide to get an automail arm? I’ve heard the operations are extremely painful and difficult to do?”

“To be honest… It wasn’t really me who made that decision. Or it was, but Mustang helped quite a lot.”

“Your teammate?”

“Yeah, him. His organization had hired him to scout a few promising young players while he was scratched due to a lower body injury… And he came to Resembool. He had heard about me, but he didn’t know about my accident until we met. When he saw what had happened, he immediately told me about a surgeon who had helped one of his old playing mates in a similar situation.”

He stared at something Winry couldn’t see with an unreadable expression and continued:

“I didn’t make my decision right away, but Al encouraged me, so only like a month later I had my surgery, and after that I’ve been the most well-kept secret of the hockey world. There have been a couple of cases where someone has suspected something, but we’ve managed to make them shut up, and here I am.”

“What makes you believe I won’t tell anyone anything? Like you said, it is dangerous to play with that arm,” Winry asked curiously, even though she had no intentions to report him.

“I can’t say I know you very well, although I hope that’s gonna change…” He gave Winry a look that was supposed to be flirty. “… But I still got a feeling that you are someone I can trust. I wouldn’t have told you about this otherwise.”

“You are right, I’m not gonna report you to anyone…” Winry said and smirked slyly, “but on one condition.”

“Oh. What is it?”

“That you are gonna let me ask you questions about your automail – just your automail, you don’t need to tell me what happened to you if you don’t want to – and give it a proper check-up.”

“Huh? That’s an… extraordinary wish.”

Winry shifted uncomfortably on the bench, thinking that she was making Ed think she was a weirdo, but Ed didn’t seem too shocked when she finally dared to glance at him. Even so, she wanted to explain:

“This is going to sound like a very weird coincidence… But I want to become an automail mechanic when I retire from figure skating. You know, a girl’s gotta have dreams off the ice too… but yeah, how about it?”

“Well, if that’s all you ask… It’s a deal! Do you have anything to do tomorrow after lunch?”

Ed tried to not look too eager about this excuse to see Winry again, but couldn’t help but smile a bit when he asked his question.

“No, we always take our naps after the lunch, but if I’m honest, I’m not much of a daydreamer anyway, so that time sounds good to me!”

“Great! I’ll see you then. Oh, and by the way… you are not the only one with… unconventional off-ice interests…”

Ed had no idea what made him confess that, but it was too late to back out now.

“Hmm? What do you like then?”

“Biochemistry.”

“Edward Elric, the famous hockey player and the developer of a groundbreaking biochemistry theory… I like that,” Winry said, and rested her hand on his shoulder for a moment.

“Are you making fun of me?” Ed acted hurt, but Winry could see he wasn’t being too serious.

“Noo! Why would I? Chemistry nerd.”

“Automail freak.”

They both laughed at the names they had just given each other but realized then that they had spent too long in the locker room and decided to return to the ice. Mustang made an inappropriate comment about where he thought the two had been, but other than that, no one else made a scene about their lateness.

Winry continued teaching the guys the basics of spinning, and even complimented Ed a bit (Maes smiled knowingly on the background as she did that), and the duo finished the day by promising each other that after the season they’d have a skill competition at the Resembool rink.

The next day after the lunch Winry found herself in front of Ed’s hotel room. She knocked on the door once, but nothing happened. The figure skater didn’t think much of it; maybe Ed was in the bathroom or had fallen asleep on his bed. But when she knocked again after a minute and still heard nothing, she started getting restless. She was behind the right door, right? And they had definitely been talking about 12 o’clock?

“Ed! It’s me, Winry!” she yelled. Ed’s door stayed closed, but Roy Mustang had apparently heard her voice, and he peeked out of his hotel room.

“Uh, this is Ed’s room, right?” Winry asked him.

“Yeah.”

“Did you see if he came here after the lunch?”

“I was with Ms. Hawkeye so I’m not sure, but I believe he did because he always reads his chemistry books in his room on his free time…” “Oh. OK. Thanks!” Winry said, and Roy turned to go back to his room. But before he had time to close his door, Winry heard a bloodcurdling scream from Ed’s room.

[namjoontunes]

Lost and Found (BTS members x Reader)

Genre: Fantasy AU, Fluff

Summary: In a world where mythical creatures like dryads and vampires are commonplace, how will a household of supernatural humanoids react to their new kitten being a shapeshifting girl?

Warning: Blood and injury mention, but nothing bad

Word Count: 1.7k 

Author’s notes: This is my first BTS story, and really the first fic I’ve published to Tumblr. I was reading Silver by @dianas-world​ when I was inspired to write this, so if there are any similarities that’s probably why! I’m not really sure where this story is gonna go but I basically have the first 3 chapters (if u include the prologue) written already so you can look forward to those! I changed some of the “features” per se of some of the mythological creatures just to make the story more interesting or easier to write. The romance might take a little bit to get to but I promise it’s coming!  Main character is a shapeshifter, Jin is a dryad, Yoongi is a vampire, Hobi is an angel, Namjoon is a werewolf, Jimin is a kitsune, Taehyung is a fairy, and Jungkook is a dragon hybrid. Enjoy!

AO3

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Prologue

Deep in the woods, down the winding road and by the side of the long dirt driveway, there was a chickadee, perched high in a pine tree. It’s right talon was supporting all the bird’s weight, as it’s left hung limply in the wind, mangled and bloody. It’s feathers were dull and ruffled, it’s stomach painfully tight, it’s mind tired.

The chickadee was staring intently into the window of the house opposite it, watching the boys inside go about their evening, as it had been doing for the past hour. They seemed kind. Their interactions with each other looked to be filled with playful love. But what was really fascinating was they all seemed to be just like the chickadee. Still, you can’t tell a lot about people by watching from a distance for a little while. Sometimes you just need to have faith.

And so, deciding to put its faith in the kindness of others, the chickadee flew down towards the house, landing delicately on the front porch. As it touched down, the chickadee’s form began to change, feathers shifting into fur, wings becoming legs, sharp talons turning into sharp claws, until finally a kitten about two handfuls big sat where the bird once was. Her back left leg was torn and mangled, just as the chickadee’s was, and the hunger in her stomach remained as potent as ever.

Staring up at the door, the kitten let out the loudest mew she could manage, hoping she could be heard over the commotion inside. Every inch of her body was on high alert, ready to run if things began to go south. The kitten meowed again, and then again, her voice soft and pitiful in the autumn winds.

Suddenly, the door in front of her swung open and she ran back a few feet as yellow light poured into the darkness. Standing in the doorway was a tall man, his face broken into a smile as soon as he laid eyes on the kitten. “Ha! I told you guys I wasn’t hearing things, there is a cat out here!” The man called back into the home.

Crouching down, he extended his hand towards the brown tabby, making kissy noises as he did so. “Come here kitty kitty, I’m not gonna hurt you.” The man was still grinning as he called out to the kitten huddling in the dark. As she considered her options, or lack thereof really, the kitten’s eyes were drawn to one of the reasons it had decided to take a risk and trust these strangers: the pair of white feathery wings sprouting from his back.

Her initial stakeout of the house revealed that the house contained multiple non-humans, much to her surprise. Supernatural creatures, humanoid and otherwise, were well known in this world, and you could find them in just about any town. But they were far from the majority. Non-humans were frequently looked down upon by ‘normal’ people, often labeled as dangerous and unnatural. As a supernatural creature herself, the kitten found solace in the company of other non-humans, and finding a home with what appeared to be seven non-humans seemed to be a gift from god in her moment of need.

As the kitten hesitated, more faces appeared in the doorway. It was hard to distinguish their faces against the bright light coming from within the home, but she could hear them speaking to one another.

“You weren’t kidding Hobi there really is a cat out here!”

“Of course I wasn’t kidding, you guys should believe me more often.”

“Awww it’s so cute can we keep it?”

“What if it has rabies Tae?”

“No it looks sweet I doubt it has rabies!”

“Can I go pick it up?”

“No Jimin you’re gonna scare it off. We’re probably already frightening it enough all crowding around it like this. All of you get out of here let Hobi take care of it.”

“Someone grab me a can of tuna or milk or something this poor thing looks like it hasn’t eaten in days”

The kitten had backed further away from the commotion, but calmed down a bit once the doorway cleared. Usually she tried to stay on her own, and being around so many people frightened her. But she knew she needed help, not to mention the promise of tuna made her empty stomach growl.

The angel, who the cat had deduced was named Hobi, was still smiling at her with his hand out, murmuring soft reassurances. Ever so slowly, the kitten hobbled over to him, watching carefully for any signs of aggression or ill intent.

“There you go. Poor thing, what happened to you? It’s okay now, we’ll take care of you.”

The tabby meowed quietly in response to his words. She had almost reached his hand when another figure appeared in the doorway, holding two bowls. The imposing horns on the person’s head signified some sort of supernatural heritage to the cat, but she couldn’t quite tell what.

“I got the tuna and the milk, hyung.”

“Alright put it down next to me and then get out of here, I’ll let you guys know when you can come see it.”

The unknown person did as he was told, and quickly disappeared inside the house. As the scent of tuna drifted over to the kitten, hunger overcame fear and she limped her way as fast as she could over to the bowl. Purrs erupted from her chest as she enjoyed her first real food in a few days.

The angel watched the kitten feasting with a smile on his face. He reached his hand down and gently placed it on her back, hoping he wouldn’t scare her away. She froze at first, debating whether or not to flee, but quickly went back to eating. The angel began to gently stroke the tabby’s fur, and she found herself enjoying his gentle touch.

After she had stuffed herself on tuna and milk, the kitten limped closer to where Hobi was crouched and plopped on the ground, her injured leg splayed out beside her as if to showcase it to him.

“Poor little baby,” he cooed to the kitten, frowning at her injury. “Here, let’s take you inside and see what we can do about this boo-boo!”

As gently as he could, Hobi scooped the kitten into his hands, being very careful of her leg. As he entered the house, the rest of the boys rushed away from the window where they had been watching and started grouping up around Hobi.

“No no no you all back up we still need to give this lil guy some space. It’s leg is hurt, Namjoon can you grab a pillow and bring it to the kitchen table?”

Now that the kitten was in the well-lit house, she could make out the members of the household in detail. The one Hobi referred to as Namjoon appeared to be a werewolf or some sort of dog hybrid, as indicated by the ears on top of his head and the tail wagging excitedly. As the tabby got a better look at the horned boy she guessed he was some sort of dragon hybrid. It was much easier to guess what kind of supernatural creatures they were from inside the house as opposed to up in a tree, and the kitten noticed a fairy, a kitsune, a dryad, and a vampire among those she hadn’t already identified. So many different heritages, all living together in one home. It made the kitten hopeful about her possibilities of fitting in here.

Namjoon came back with a pillow and set it down in the middle of the table Hobi was approaching. As carefully as he could, the angel placed the kitten on the pillow, making sure her injured side was facing up. He sat down in the chair closest to her and started examining her leg. Namjoon was still hovering around, his tail thumping against various furniture. “It’s so cute!!! Can you fix it’s leg Hobi?”

“I think so, but it might be a while before it will be 100% better.”

“So that means we get to keep it, right?” asked the dragon hybrid.

“A pet’s a lot of responsibility,” the vampire pointed out.

“Yeah,” the dryad agreed. “I’m not cleaning any litter boxes so if you want a cat you guys will have to care of that.”

“Me, Jimin, and Jungkook can take turns cleaning the litter box, right guys?” The fairy turned to the kitsune and the dragon, hoping they’d agree with his plan.

They both nodded in affirmation and the kitsune added, “Yeah, that’s a good idea! Can we please keep it, hyungs?”

Hobi and Namjoon looked at each other, and then at the dryad and the vampire boy. “What do you guys think?” Hobi asked. “I’d feel bad sending it back outside, and if Namjoon’s tail is any indication he’s already smitten with the little kitten.”

The vampire shrugged, watching as Namjoon playfully shoved Hobi. “I’m fine with it, it doesn’t seem like it’ll be too much trouble. And it is really cute”

“I agree with Yoongi. As long as I don’t have to clean any litter boxes, I’m fine with it staying,” the dryad concluded.

“Great! Well I’ll work on healing this little guy- err,” Hobi turned to the kitten, examining it closely before continuing, “This little girl, actually, and then we can figure out a name.”

The kitten had been starting to doze off on the pillow, but was jolted awake by hands touching her. “Shhh it’s okay little kitty,” the angel cooed. “You’re gonna feel a lot better in just a second.”

Hobi closed his eyes, his hands still on the kitten, and a sudden warmth overtook her. It felt like her fondest memories were flowing through her body, from her mother’s smile to her old friend’s laugh, seeing the first spring flowers and falling asleep near her loved ones, all of it spreading throughout her until she felt like her bones had become sunshine and her veins had turned into flowers.

After a few moments of bliss, the glow that had been radiating from Hobi’s hands dimmed until it was no more, leaving the kitten feeling at peace. Her leg, which had previously been raw and bleeding, was now a closed wound, though not completely healed.

“I did the best I could,” Hobi announced, “but it’ll still be a little while before she’s 100% better. Now, anyone have any ideas for names?”

The kitten didn’t hear the rest of the conversation, having drifted off into a deep sleep, her old memories still lingering in her mind.