#bc I said he was giving some sassy older woman who may or may not be a lesbian

[doctorsiren]

our new king 🎉

[cheemerthelizard]

Could you write one where reader and Rohan are kind of in a relationship (bc rohan is the biggest tsundere there is) and she’s just the sweetest and nicest while Rohan is more of a sassy douchy guy so he sometimes talks kinda rudely to her BUT if someone DARES talk down to her and make her the slightest sad Rohan will go full protective and defensive on them, thank you!

Ahhhh I’m sorry about the time! Sometimes inspiration doesn’t come to be and it takes a while to write someone’s request, I hope you don’t mind!

“I can’t believe you’ve been dating Rohan this whole time I’ve known you!” Koichi exclaimed. “And just to think I could’ve visited his house long ago if I had known!”

“Well, there’s a reason I don’t tell people that I’m dating THE mangaka, you know,” you chuckled. “I mean, imagine how tiring it would be to have people constantly asking to show them my boyfriend’s home?”

“That is a valid point,” Koichi nodded. “So, no telling anyone?”

“Not a word,” you confirmed. “And, well, there’s another reason I don’t tell even my closest friends sometimes…”

“Why’s that?”

“You see, Rohan likes to… joke around a lot, but it doesn’t really sound like he’s joking around. I don’t want people to think I’m in a bad relationship. Just… whenever Rohan greets me, he’ll most likely be joking with me, understand?”

“I understand,” Koichi answered, still slightly confused.

“Well, we made it,” you said. “Rohan gave me a spare key, so I can unlock the door.”

After using the key and turning the doorknob, you called out, “Rohan, I’m back!”

“Ugh. That voice,” Rohan groaned. “I hoped I wouldn’t hear it ever again.”

“Remember, Koichi, I promise you he’s joking,” you whispered. “He seems really mean, but he doesn’t mean it.”

“Ah, I see you brought a friend with you,” Rohan commented. “This won’t change my behavior, you know.”

“This is Koichi. He’s a big fan of yours,” you told him. “And I know you won’t change.”

“Good. Now that we’re on the same page, please put on some makeup, you look awful.”

“Rohaaaaan.”

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” Rohan leaned in and kissed your cheek. “I’m happy to see and hear you, my beautiful girl.”

“See? He’s only kidding,” you told Koichi, who still looked perplexed.

“Now, I haven’t even greeted my visitor yet, where are my manners?” Rohan bent down to shake Koichi’s hand.

“If you need me, I’ll be making myself some lunch,” you told the boys.

“Don’t you mean making me some lunch?” Rohan asked.

“Not with that attitude, I don’t,” you looked at Rohan flirtatiously, and he returned the expression. “What do you want?”

“Well, I was thinking of treating you today,” Rohan answered. “Don’t make lunch yet.”

When Koichi and Rohan were done introducing themselves, the older man turned back to you. “Well, (Y/N), shall we get going?”

While the two of you were walking around Morioh, many people were flocking around to Rohan, almost shoving you out of the way.

“Please, autograph my photo!” one woman asked.

“Can I get a sneak peek at Pink Dark Boy?” a young boy begged.

“(Y/N),” Rohan whispered. “Use your Stand.”

“You got it.” You summoned Be Somebody, and had it gently tap Rohan. Suddenly, all of his fans stopped crowding around him.

“Why are we crowded around some random stranger?”

“Beats me.”

Within ten seconds, everyone had dispersed, leaving you and Rohan alone.

“Being famous is nice sometimes,” Rohan said, “but other times I just want the world to forget who I am.”

“Is that the only reason you’re dating me? Because I can get rid of everyone’s memory of you?”

Rohan thought about it a little bit, then answered, “Most definitely.”

“Really?”

“Oh, yes, you’re absolutely hideous. And your personality, ugh! Awful. Don’t even get me started on your annoying voice.”

You knew the one thing that could shut Rohan up, and you did just that. You grabbed his head and pulled it close to you, so much that your lips were touching. You held him there for a little while, then let go. When the kiss ended, Rohan stood there, dumbfounded, for a second before turning to you.

“The kisses are nice, though.”

As you continued your walk, some men walked past you and scoffed.

“That’s the best that guy could do?” one of them muttered to the other, both of them snickering.

You could immediately feel Rohan tense up. You would try to stop him, but you’ve tried tons of times, all ending in failure.

“What did you say about (Y/N)?” he growled, grabbing one of them by the shirt.

“Hey, chill out, man, we were complimenting you.”

“By insulting my precious girl,” Rohan scowled. “Nobody gets away with that, no matter who it is! Heaven’s Door!”

“Rohan, you don’t need to, really.” You tried telling him, but no answer.

“I’ll make it so your insults become compliments and your compliments become insults. You’ll never be able to tell others how you feel ever again! That’s what you get for hurting my baby’s feelings!”

When Rohan was finished, he called back Heaven’s Door, and the two men groggily got up.

“What did you say you’d do to us, you really nice person?” The first one slapped a hand over his mouth as soon as his sentence finished.

“Not gonna lie, dude,” the second one snickered, “that was a little gay, and I completely respect that.” This time it was his turn to slap a hand over his mouth.

“Have fun, boys,” Rohan laughed. “I would say that you should think about what you say next time, but there won’t be a next time.” He grabbed your hand and you both walked off again.

“You… you really didn’t have to be so harsh with that, Rohan,” you muttered. “It was just one little insult. It didn’t even mean that much to me. After all, they were basically saying that a man with looks like yours doesn’t deserve me, and that makes me feel special.”

“Don’t worry,” Rohan smiled sweetly at you. “I put down that it would wear off in 24 hours. But the shock of that curse being for the rest of their lives may make them reevaluate what they say. Plus, you are the best I could do, and I couldn’t be happier.”

“What was that?” You put a hand up to your ear. “Was that… Rohan giving me genuine compliments?”

“I have no clue what you mean, you annoying brat.”

“There he is!”

Despite his sometimes rude behavior, you loved Rohan, and you knew he loved you back. It felt nice knowing that you had someone who would look out for you, and you wouldn’t swap that out for anything else in the world.

[searchforthescars]

Litany - Ch. 12/12

IT’S FINALLY HERE BABEY

okay pls stick around until the end bc I talk about Things and get sappy about this fic but @bombshellsandbluebells thank you thank you for editing this and loving this and not judging me for flinging chapters that only make a little sense into the void (this is what I get for not doing an outline lmao). I’m v blessed to have you in my life

@maelidpoetree , @sarcasticdebate , you guys have written such LOVELY reviews that I still re-read and get emotional about to this day. Thank you for that, and also for convincing me to not delete Litany those two times. Much much much love

And to everyone else who has loved, read, MADE PLAYLISTS AND EDITS FOR (omg) and supported this fic, thank you. I’m always astounded at the responses to things I write. It’s humbling. <3

(the fic is also on ao3)

I have told you where I’m coming from, so put it together. We clutch our bellies and roll on the floor . . . When I say this, it should mean laughter, not poison. I want more applesauce. I want more seats reserved for heroes. Dear Forgiveness, I saved a plate for you. Quit milling around the yard and come inside.

Emori’s glass ornament catches the light from her window and casts beams of cool sunshine in fractures on the hallway wall. Murphy follows those beams to her doorway late on Christmas morning.

He watches as her smaller fingers caress the small delicate etchings there and smiles when he sees the fingers on her larger hand peeking out from the sleeve of her red and green sweater. She doesn’t cover it that often now, and he’s glad; his deep affection for the appendage has never wavered, and he likes seeing it out in the open every now and again, a sign of the comfort she’s found here.

Murphy watches her for another moment before knocking on her open door. She turns. Her hair is messy. She’s wearing the most hideous Christmas sweater he’s ever seen - bright red and green with tiny ornaments hooked into the neckline. He doesn’t have to touch her skin to know it’s warm, from both sleep and sun, and maybe some excitement too, if her flushed cheeks are telling the truth.

“Merry Christmas,” she says softly, a hesitant smile wrinkling the corner of her mouth. “Like my sweater?”

Murphy can’t help but laugh. “It’s...something.”

“Jasper gave it to me,” she says by way of explanation. “He, Monty and Octavia have matching ones.”

“Of course they do,” he grumbles, imagining the look on Raven’s face when she sees, and how Bellamy’s probably going to bust a nut. He must smirk at the thought, because Emori snorts and gives him a tiny smile. “What?”

“Nothing.” She shakes her head. Her hair swishes around her face, and a few strands of it catch on the ornaments on her neckline. “Damn, that’s going to get annoying.”

“Here, let me,” he says, reaching for her hair at the same time she does. Her hands fall back into place as she lets him smooth the hair back.

“Thanks,” she murmurs. Her eyes flick down to his mouth, then back up again. He thinks about saying thought that was my move, but bites his tongue, knowing he might get sucker-punched for it. He’s still not sure where they stand with one another, not after what he did and said, or after their small reconciliation the day after Thanksgiving.

She grins up at him, and suddenly it doesn’t matter. “Hey,” she says conspiratorially, “want to pull a prank?”

Of course he does.

They sneak downstairs and quietly divest the space under the tree of every gift underneath. They hide each wrapped package somewhere in the house; the more obscure, the better. Murphy is immensely proud of himself for thinking to hide his gift to Bellamy on the roof, right behind the chimney, and Raven’s in the oven.

“I hid Monty’s inside the couch,” Emori whispers to him as they scamper back up the stairs. Her eyes are shining with mischief. Murphy wonders if she ever pranked Otan. He also wonders if she’s ever had a Christmas the “traditional” way, but can’t think of a way to ask that wouldn’t be rude. Hey, at least he cares. It’s a start.

They stay in his room until the house wakes up. She walks around and reads the papers on his walls; he sits in his desk chair and watches her move carefully around the small space. Strands of her hair stick to the fuzz of her sweater. She looks warm; she radiates happiness. It’s a good look on her.

He shakes himself out of his snappiness just in time for Octavia’s door to bang open. “Merry Christmas, bitches!” she shouts, yelping as Lexa groans and probably throws something at her head. “Let’s get this bread!”

“Let’s get this- what?” Emori asks, adorably confused.

Murphy laughs and stands up. “Don’t ask. Come on, let’s go see the fruits of our labor.”

They make it downstairs just in time to hear the crunching of Bellamy’s tires on the snow outside and the roar of Zeke’s motorcycle. Murphy holds up one hand, counting down from five on his fingers. When he gets to one, Emori grins as Bellamy hollers, “What the hell?!”

“Nailed it,” Emori singsongs. Murphy snorts.

The door bangs open and Bellamy sticks his head in. “You put my present on the damn roof?!” he shouts.

Murphy grins impishly. “What makes you think it was me?”

Raven opens the oven door, then throws her hands up in exasperation. “Seriously, Murphy? Again?”

“It was my idea,” Emori says, her eyes laughing but her face straight. Raven rolls her eyes, but there’s a smile there that tells Murphy she’s just glad the two of them are working together on something.

Murphy snorts as Monty jumps up to retrieve a package hidden atop the microwave. Emori blinks at him. “Wait… Raven said ‘again’...”

“Oh yeah.” Murphy tilts his head and smiles. “I may or may not have done this last year.”

Emori smirks. “And here I thought I was original.”

Bellamy stomps into the kitchen, tracking snow on the tile. Raven squawks and swats him with a kitchen towel, but he ignores her. “Whatever this is,” he says, holding a damp package aloft, “I don’t want it.”

“You say that now,” Emori singsongs, then leans over to whisper in Murphy’s ear, “It’s a book. He’s going to love it. And I wrapped it in plastic, anyway.”

Bellamy peels off said plastic and drops it in the sink. As Jasper, Monty, Octavia and Lexa clatter down the stairs, he rips off the soggy paper and gives Emori a soft smile. “Thank you,” he says, holding the book up so she can see the cover, even though she’s the one who gave it to him. “I love it.”

Murphy’s heart warms when Emori grins. “I knew it!” she cheers to herself quietly, pumping her fist, a gesture no doubt learned from Monty.

The rest of the house starts ripping into presents too; Raven throws the crow-printed socks Murphy gave her at his head, Lexa races to the kitchen to pour orange juice into her “Classy, Sassy and a Little Smart-Assy” mug from Octavia, and Emori wraps herself up in the massive knitted scarf Murphy found at a street market in the city.

“This is the best present I’ve ever gotten, John,” she says, her smile as warm as the wool wrapped around her neck. “Thank you.”

Murphy’s heart feels like it’s going to leap out of his chest. “You’re welcome.”

When she leans forward to peck him on the cheek, he flinches forward and to the side ever-so-slightly and their lips touch for a brief moment. Monty wolf-whistles and Jasper cheers while Emori covers her mouth with her smaller hand and blinks shyly at him.

“I’m sorry-��� he stammers, but Emori leans forward again, throwing her arms around his shoulders and kissing him soundly on the mouth. “Oh.”

“Get it, J!” Raven yells while Lexa groans something about straight people being unable to control themselves.

“Merry Christmas, John,” Emori whispers. She gets to her feet, scarf still wrapped around her shoulders, and pads to the kitchen in search of coffee, leaving a stunned Murphy and his delighted friends behind.

Breakfast and lunch are haphazard affairs since everyone agreed they’d rather save room for the massive dinner Bellamy, Murphy and Zeke are preparing. Zeke shows up around noon, bearing bags full of groceries and presents. Luna follows him a moment later, Costia in tow. Lexa looks delighted, if not a little terrified, to see her surrogate older sister commiserating with her girlfriend.

“Relax,” Murphy tells her. “This could end really well for you.”

“Or really poorly,” Lexa mutters, eyeing Luna. “Luna’s a straight shooter. She could scare Cos away if she doesn’t approve.”

“My kind of woman,” Murphy remarks, yelping when Raven smacks him upside the head. “Ow?!”

“Your kind of woman is over there, and she’s the jealous type,” Raven says, pointing a thumb at Emori, who’s standing on the kitchen counter, digging around in the cabinet.

“Not jealous,” Emori calls over her shoulder, “Just possessive.”

Lexa wiggles her eyebrows. Raven rolls her eyes, and Luna laughs into her coffee cup.

Bellamy starts to get agitated around three when the roast for dinner isn’t cooking right. Murphy tries to help - it is his crockpot, after all - but quickly gets derailed when he realizes the kitchen is not big enough for all three cooks.

“Sorry, man,” he says to Zeke, whose efforts to shimmy behind Murphy failed after Murphy stepped back, almost whacking Raven’s almost-boyfriend in the head in the process.

“Oh no, no, you’re fine,” Zeke says, quick-stepping over Bellamy’s leg and putting a pan on the counter.

“What did you just say?” Raven calls from the living room, where she’s trying to install the new coding software Bellamy got her for Christmas.

“I said he was fine,” Zeke says.

“How Midwestern of you,” Costia remarks drily.

Zeke raises an eyebrow at her. “How did you know?”

“It’s easy to tell,” she says. “You say words funny.”

Raven hoots. Zeke groans and disappears into Raven’s room, where they’re storing all their coats. After a moment, Raven goes to join him.

“Have fun, Reyes,” Murphy calls after her.

“Fuck straight off, Murphy,” she replies. Emori whistles. When her eyes meet Murphy’s, she stands up.

“John, I forgot to give you your card,” she says. Murphy carefully picks his way across the crowded kitchen and dining room to reach her. She hands him a small envelope, then disappears upstairs before he can even break the seal.

The card’s printed sentiment is lame, but her written words aren’t. To his surprise and embarrassment, Murphy can’t help but blink back some tears as he reads. If anyone notices, they know better than to comment.

John,

Christmas is supposed to be a time for family, but my family isn’t here this year. I thought I would be heartbroken, but I’m not. You are my family, and so is Raven and everyone else. I’m not good at this sappy shit - clearly, since I wrote a swear word in a Christmas card - but I’m going to try.

When I answered Raven’s ad, I had no idea the love and safety you all would bring into my life. Thank you for your part in that. Thank you for loving me how you are able to, and thank you for trying to love me better by loving yourself. I see you, and I love you.

Merry Christmas, John. Never forget how loved you are, by me and everyone else.

-Em

During dinner, they sit at the dining room table and on the floor in the living room, spreading their Christmas Eve feast over end tables and folding chairs that no one wants to sit on for some reason. Murphy sits at the table elbow-to-elbow with Raven and Emori; Zeke and Bellamy sit across from them. Monty, Jasper, Lexa, Octavia and Costia sprawl on the floor, while Luna and Echo take over the couch. Raven tries to play music two separate times - “It’s for the Ambiance,” Octavia says, and Murphy just knows the capital A is implied -  but the noise coming from all corners of the house renders that effort more chaotic than mood-setting.

Murphy keeps sneaking glances at Emori. Her eyes shine with excitement and delight as she takes a massive serving of Zeke’s now-famous corn casserole. She grins when Raven starts roasting Bellamy for only getting books for Christmas. She even smiles at Murphy once or twice, which sends his heart rate through the ceiling.

Echo finishes first and starts in on the dishes. Bellamy follows, brushing her shoulder with his hand as he leans past her to start drying plates. Murphy watches them over his shoulder, the confidence in their movements, the ease with which they exist in one another’s space. When he turns back to face the table, he locks eyes with Emori and sees his longing and jealousy mirrored there.

Time slows down in the moments between clearing his plate and ending up in Emori’s room. Somehow he ends up at her bedroom door looking at her back, braced against the window frame, her legs swinging over the window’s edge, hair blowing in the cold West Virginia wind. It’s a mirror of this morning’s moment, or maybe an inversion, since her back is to him in this instance, though her face is turned upward.

“I never had a Christmas like this,” he hears her say to the wind. He steps inside her room but doesn’t shut the door. “With people and presents and noise and happiness.”

“Was it- Did you like it?” He winces at his own verbal ineptitude.

She nods, sniffs and looks over her shoulder. Her eyes glitter in the pale light from the hall. “Come sit with me,” she says softly, beckoning with her smaller hand.

When he’s comfortably seated with his head leaning against the window frame, his body snug between it and Emori’s legs, she rests her forehead on his shoulder and speaks to his upper arm. “I miss you.”

The distance between him is his own doing. The ache in his chest is, too. “I’m sorry.”

How do I cross the line between us? he wants to ask, but doesn’t want to come off either dramatic or desperate, even though he is both, just by nature.

“Thank you for your card,” he says softly. He turns, rests his chin atop her head, and resists the urge to press a kiss atop it. “It meant a lot.”

“I meant it.” Her voice is muffled. She doesn’t look up at him, but he can feel the wrinkle of her forehead through his sweater.

“You okay?”

She lifts her head. There’s a look in her eyes, equal parts caged animal and hesitant human. “If I let you in, you can’t hurt me. I won’t let you.”

Murphy takes a deep breath. Here, on his side of the drawn line, there is everything he is ashamed of. On her side, there is the smile in her voice when she speaks to him and the soft way she says his given name.

“I can’t promise I won’t hurt you,” he says slowly. “But I won’t try to.”

Emori smiles, sudden and blinding. She turns to face him, shifting so she’s straddling the windowsill. The ornaments on her God-awful sweater glint and tap together as she moves.

“Okay.” She kisses him on the cheek, then the nose. He grins. “Let’s start over.”

Murphy leans forward and presses his lips to hers, a proper kiss this time. When she laughs against his mouth, his chest expands. Then he’s the one who laughs as he remembers a line from a particular Christmas movie.

“What?” she asks, pulling away. And then Raven’s voice sounds from the doorway, where she’s leaning against the frame, looking as self-satisfied as he’s ever seen her.

“‘And the Grinch’s small heart’,” she quotes dramatically, a shit-eating grin wide on her face, “‘grew three sizes that day’.”

Emori howls with laughter. The foot dangling from the window kicks in the air. Murphy reaches for the nearest pillow near the foot of Emori’s bed and chucks it at Raven, who shrieks and limps downstairs. Murphy catches up to her by sliding down the bannister and tosses the couch’s blanket over her head, then proceeds to tickle her in the stomach until she goes to her knees, laughing and wheezing and pushing a worried Zeke away.

Murphy looks up after pulling the blanket off Raven’s head and locks eyes with Emori, who hovers at the top of the stairs, one hand on the bannister, one hand on the first step down. It’s a mirror of a moment during her first day at home: her hesitant eyes, Murphy and Raven on the couch, his nonchalant “you can come down.”

An invitation, he thinks. A request, maybe, and certainly an assurance that no matter where he is, she belongs. That no matter where she is, he is wanted.

“You can come down,” he says to her quietly. She takes a step down. Behind him, Zeke helps Raven to her feet.

“You can come down,” Murphy says to her again, remembering waiting at the bottom of the stairs on their first date, awestruck at her beautiful dress and the warmth in her cheeks.

Emori’s feet hit the floor beside him. She slings her arm around his shoulder and he reaches up to play with the long fingers of her left hand. While watching Monty, Raven and Zeke make a nest on the couch to watch The Nightmare Before Christmas, Murphy presses a kiss to every part of her hand he can reach.

“Dear Forgiveness,” he hears her murmur, almost to herself, in that casual, thoughtful way, “I saved a place for you. Quit milling around the yard and come inside.”

She kisses him on the cheek, disentangles herself from him, and goes to sit beside Raven, squealing when the other girl’s cold feet make contact with her bare ankles. Murphy watches them all, lit by the kitchen light and the glow of the TV, and wonders if it’s possible for a heart to break from happiness.

If it is, he supposes, as he leans his forearms against the couch inches from Raven’s head, he’ll gladly handle this kind of heartbreak now until forever.

Yeet yeet babey we did it

The end of this story is bittersweet for me in a strange way. I started writing Litany during a time in my life where I was not doing well, mentally, physically or emotionally. This story became a strange form of catharsis, a way for me to access the dark things in me and process them through the eyes of a character who resembles me in ways I'd rather not think about.

As Murphy and Emori learned and grew and recovered, I tried to do the same. Clearly, I'm not there yet (as evidenced by the two times I almost deleted this fic on a self-destructive whim). But there's always hope as long as you learn how to forgive yourself.

If you're dealing with stuff like this, please talk to someone. A parent, a teacher, a friend, a therapist, someone. My asks on Tumblr are always open (my Tumblr name is the same as here). We all need a Raven, an Emori, a Bellamy and a Luna sometimes.

Thanks for reading this. I hope you liked it. I'll see you soon, never fear :)

Much love, Amanda