#but I have eyes that can see and a brain that occasionally has hinged thoughts

[serailovesbagelsetc]

I kept thinking this part that I kept seeing everywhere on here reminded me of something:

And

um

spoiler alert this is what happens after that

[victusinveritas]

Yes.

Work happened to include meeting with the President of Ireland. Here's the story from Twitter: https://x.com/shockproofbeats/status/992006545473966082?s=20

Right, this was when I was eighteen so don't judge me too harshly. Or if you think drugs are cool and I'm a legend, fill your boots. Anyway, at the time I was working through college in Dublin with bar shifts at [redacted] music venue. One day I get a call on my day off.

Way the gig worked, you'd either get Fri or Sat off. This week it was Fri, happy days. My manager, let's call her Dympna, pipes up on the phone: "So, when you come in this evening, just a few things to remember". I'm like, hold on Dympz, I'm off this eve, jog on. She corrects me.

"Remember I said you could get all of Saturday off if you just worked 2 hours tonight?". And of course THEN, I did suddenly remember, she'd said it to me as I was leaving the building and my conscious work brain was doing somersaults to get out of the place.

She could have told me I was to have my foreskin tattooed with a harpoon and I would have given her a smile, thumbs up, and a flurry of yeps to get out of the place. I was eighteen. On minimum wage, and - bear in mind this is really saying something - my absolute minimum effort.

So, I'm bang to rights and I say "yeaaah, of course, sorry just got my days mixed up, I'll be there no problem" and she says, "this evening will be fine, just the head of the [redacted] and some VIPs, few hours then you can take off".

All good. Except for the one thing.

At that very moment, I was in a mate's house on Dame St, relaxing with (I thought) nothing to do for the evening.

Now you have to remember that, before dabbing and fortnite, kids used "drugs" to get high and I was, occasionally, adjacent to them.

I was a fairly sheltered kid before college, and didn't even drink til I was well into my late teens, never smoked even. I was very green. So too, coincidentally, was the homebrew ketamine that said pal was making IN HIS OVEN when I arrived.

My pal had gotten it in liquid form and, for some reason, it had been dyed green - he has subsequently told me he thought it was a St Patrick's Day promotion, and I've always thought it a charming entrepreneurial flourish on the part of his enterprising ketamine wholesaler.

(Ketamine wholesalers are often vets, and the stuff originally for cats. People always say horse tranquiliser, either to make it sound more sordid or more badass, but ketamine is used on many animals, and vets have more use for cat tranqs than horses. Not quite as sexy is it?)

Anyway, for want of a better idea, I took him up on his offer of a line of this thick, vaguely slightly clumpy bright green powder, knowing I had nothing else to do for the evening. Felt nothing. Had a tiny further bump 10 mins later. It was at this point that my phone rang.

FLASHBACK ENDS, WE'RE BACK IN THE ROOM. So I'm definitely sweating after the call, not like instant come-up, more worried ABOUT the come-up. Never done this in my life, I've no idea how it's going to feel. But, absent any other idea, I get my stuff together and head to work.

On way to work, starts kicking in. You know when the roof of your mouth starts politely folding your brain in half, and your chest flutters like a cathedral filled with bees? I was holding it together but knew if I stopped concentrating for one second, I would become time itself.

By the time I reach work (twenty mins later) I am sweating like microwaved bread, eyes on hinges, convinced my fingernails owe me money. I have an overwelming urge to yawn, just to get the memories out WHEN in comes Dympna with the rota for the evening.

D: Thanks again, know it's short- oh, you look a bit hot and bothered, did you run here ha?" Me: Hmnnnnnyes, I did - the dids is" D: OK, just you tonight and the top man, he's showing the President what's going on for the next while" [one beat] Me: Sorr din you sez de presddyen?"

D: Yes, Mary McAleese is in to see this season's programme of events. Me: Hmmnggg D: All you need to do is stand in the corner and offer them drinks every fifteen minutes. Me: Ahhh yesssshnshh D: Maybe have a wash beforehand

So the gig is this: Mary McAleese (the *original* MMA) was to go round this room upstairs which had upcoming acts for the season illustrated with photographs and programme notes. The director of [redacted] would walk her around and say "fricken great, Madge innit?" or whatever.

My role is pretty weird, I have to stand in the corner and then every 15 mins, INTERRUPT this live-wire pair to offer them drinks, which protocol dictates they must refuse. I have barely processed any of this before I'm grabbing a tray and heading upstairs.

The tray, btw, contains a white wine, a red wine, a G&T, a whiskey, a rum and coke and some mineral waters. Always found that mix weird. Imagine the President of Ireland seeing the rum and coke and going "oooooh nice one, ta - now tell me about this Latvian choir again".

Right now I can hold it together when stimulated, when the adrenaline and fear is keeping me just ticking over - I'm weird but with it. Problem is, my job is now to stand silent and motionless in a room on my own until the President of Ireland arrives.

Time passes on my own. Empires crumble and glaciers dissolve, stars die and oceans melt, out on the dusty planes of mother earth, hot bursts of young love gift the miracle of life; children are born, raised, stricken infirm and die of old age.

And then Mary McAleese walks in.

By now, having been alone with my thoughts for the entire Cretaceous period, I am no longer mildly weird but deeply, extravagantly deranged. As the President of Ireland walks in, with my boss's boss's boss's boss, my first impulse is to greet them like I own the place.

It would be rude, surely, to not acknowledge their presence? Out of order even. Best thing to do would obviously be to say "hello guys" like it's my home and I live there, in this big white room, where I stand in the corner, alone, holding a tray of drinks, like you do, at home.

Me: hello guys

HELLO GUYS

Anyway, by the divine grace of the infant Christ, they somehow do not hear me say this, and begin their itinerary round the room. I clench my entire head and focus on not shouting across the room to let them know that they should always feel at home here in this room of ours.

I become extremely aware of my hands, and how I haven't felt them in a very long time. They're detuned to static , which would be worrying even if they weren't holding a tray of drinks filled with noise and judgement. I hold no faith or creed other than "do not drop these plz".

Just when dropping everything seems to become less urgent, I realise it's time to go over and offer these motherfuckers some fucken drinks, let's get this party started wooooooo

I begin walking over to them and I move so abruptly that the glasses clink and they turn to look at me. I did this too fast. Now I'm thinking wooooah slow down there martina hingis, so I self-correct to a much slower speed. Watching my breath, nice and casual, you got this buddy.

Guys. GUYS. Now, I'm moving far too slow. I started at this speed and I'm to embarassed to change and now it's gonna take me like 5 mins to cross the room. They are watching me, frowning and sweaty, traversing the 5 foot between us like it's a wooden plank on the Crystal Maze.

I'm moving so slow my legs are cramping. I think they're wondering why it's taking me so long. It's way harder than walking at normal speed. I'm shaking so the drinks are making noise again. For what feels like minutes.

Anyway, I offer them the drinks and they say no.

Do this another two times - how long was this presentation anyway, is this what the President does all day? Give her a brochure and a carryout ffs - and they say no. By the end, I've calmed down a bit in physical side (sweating, shaking) but I still feel completely batshit.

At one point I clearly remember believing that my mind had escaped my body and was watching me hold the tray of drinks from the wallspace behind my head. Only out-of-body experience I've ever had.

At the very end, they do accept a drink. It was at this point she spoke to me.

Just some inane pleasantries, to which I reply with some off-the-hook pablum about work and college, at which point she says;

"Oh, is that a Northern accent I detect?"

Dawgs, you know I'm down for the Nordie solidarity vibe, but this is the last thing I need right now.

"Yeeerrrsh" I say, with a goalkeeper's glove in my mouth. She starts talking about her experience coming down to study here, how it can be a real scenic change, but the making of you if you keep your eyes open to new experiences.

I can tell she definitely means green ketamine.

She's a lovely woman, and very open and generous with her time, giving me ample space to answer her questions which I mostly do with sheepish, one-or-two-word answers. Finally, she asks me if Dublin is everything I thought it wou-

Me: YES I LIKE IT I THINK IT'S GOOD

I'd been paying such fierce attention, I'd mis-timed my reply AND badly modulated my volume. She actually recoiled a little. I think the head of the venue actually stepped back and said "jesus!".

Mary McAleese flinched for what seemed like half a second, then flashed her best your-mum's-sound-mate smile and replaced her white wine on my tray. The boss man nodded at me, they walked out of the room and I waited a few seconds before making my way downstairs to the kitchen.

So at this point I'm thinking, wellll, I'm definitely fired but this will one day make a great story on an Nazi-riddled microblogging platform. I make my way to the staff area, wipe my sopping face and check my phone. I had only been in the room for 35 minutes.

Dympna pads in all smiles, thanking me for my help at short notice. She sees that I'm a bit freaked and says, almost with a wink, "you could have told me you'd be like this, by the way"

I'm thinking, of course, Dympna gets what's up, it's the service industry, people mistime their vibes, I bet this isn't the first time she's seen some-

"I had no idea you were such a huge fan of Mary McAleese"

I'm sorry what again was that did you mean

The boss man had indeed related the events upstairs to Dympna, but rather than a frightened waif hepped up on cat tranqs, he'd seen a political nerd deeply, irretrievably starstruck by contact with the 8th President of the Irish Republic, Mary McAleese.

Presumably a political nerd with a gland problem, and low-grade artritis in both legs, and a tendency to welcome people into their workspaces, but a political nerd all the same.

Me: Oh, yeah well, you know, it's embarassing. She's, just amazing.

And you know what, she kinda is. She was always very nice to me each of the subsequent times we met - me doling out the drinks, her asking me how Dublin was getting on, all the while the other staff eyeing me to see how I was dealing with such close contact with my hero.

I'd gurn and fret, play up to it when she'd be coming in, "oh what am I like". I'd bat away suggestions I fancied her from the more ribald members of the changing room, and laugh along with the usual jibes, safe in the knowledge my nerdy affect had saved my bacon.

So take ketamine at work, it's great.

END.

Here's a more recent piece on his book Did Ye Hear Mammy Died and Northern Ireland in general.

[let-them-read-fics]

Blackpink HC / One Shots: Enemies to Lovers, College AU (2/2)

Requested: Yes

Warnings / Misc. -- Bickering, Rivalry, Fluff

A/N: Hey everyone! This is the second half of the request, featuring Rosé and Lisa. If you want to see the first part, with Jisoo and Jennie, click the link below. I hope you enjoy!

Click for Jisoo and Jennie

♡ Happy Reading ♡

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Rosé

Park Chaeyoung: The girl who hung with the wrong crowd.

Your problem lied more so with the people she associated with than her herself. You couldn't wrap your head around why such a kind person like her would spend time with the class clowns and bullies, and to make matters worse, she would stick up for them as well.

She spent most of her days in either the art or music room, creating the masterpieces that her brain came up with.

But as soon as school was over, she'd be hanging out with them again and getting into trouble. For instance, because of her talents, they would invite her to go with them and graffiti various hot spots around town. She never vandalized any monuments or landmarks of importance -- she typically stuck to bridges or abandoned buildings -- but after getting caught with them multiple times, it was inevitable for her to be held accountable.

She was given a week's detention to make up for her actions

You, coincidentally, had a teacher that absolutely loathed you for no reason at all. No matter how good of a student you were for him, he didn't care; he had a vendetta against you for some reason, and he patiently waited for the opportunity to ruin your day.

You came in literally 10 seconds after the bell rang, putting the breakfast sandwich you stopped to get on the way into your mouth so you could open the door. He was standing at the front with a smug grin on his face, and you already knew what was coming.

You were also given an ungodly sentence of a week's detention.

Turning Point

"If I see you on your phones, I'm taking them." The monitor informs before sitting at the desk, reclining in the chair and putting his feet up soon after. You sigh and lean back in your seat, attempting to find a way to pass the next two hours without getting in trouble. Your eyes scan across the room, eventually landing on Rosé, where she sits a couple rows away from you. Sunlight is streaming in through the window next to her, its golden rays peeking through the breaks in the clouds above to shine on her. She looks gorgeous as she doodles away in her notebook, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear when it falls in front of her face.

After waiting on the monitor to fall asleep and sending one last glance to double check, you quietly stand from your seat and go sit next to her.

You barely know each other, but she's your only hope of remaining sane and occupied.

"Hi," you greet, looking into her eyes.

"Hi," she copies, a tiny smile forming on her lips when she notices your impressed expression upon gazing down at her paper. You have to hand it to her -- she's really talented.

"You're really good," you compliment, still admiring the artistry. Seeing as how you're looking down, you fail to notice the blush that works its way to her cheeks. Coming from you, the simple remark meant a lot to her.

You spend the rest of the day making small talk and getting used to one another, leaving detention later with the hopes of sitting together again.

----

The Next Day

"Hi again," you whisper, glancing over your shoulder to ensure that the coast is clear. The monitor is out like a light, with his mouth hanging open and an obnoxiously loud snore coming out.

"Hi," she giggles, watching as you dive into the floor for cover when the man shifts in his sleep. You thought he was waking up, and if he finds out you moved seats, he'll definitely have something to say about it.

"The coast is clear, cadet," she nods like a soldier, assuring you that it's okay to move back after a minute.

"That was close," you breathe out in relief, glad to live to see another day.

You share a laugh, though it has to be hidden behind your hands and kept a minimum. It's cute though -- like a little secret between the two of you, only for you to know.

"What're you drawing today?" You ask later, laying your chin in your palm as you gaze down at her work. Her reply comes out stuttered at first when she feels your leg innocently brush against hers under the table.

"D-dalgom. My friend's dog." She manages out, mentally smacking herself for looking like a fool.

You smile, thinking she's adorable. "I bet it'll be great," you encourage. She grins back as her eyes scan over your face, committing the memory of you to heart. She's always had a thing for you, ever since the time you were paired up in Biology last semester, so she's been enjoying detention more than she thought she would. Seeing you makes the time go by faster, though ironically, she wishes it would slow down a bit.

You make her feel appreciated for more than just what she's capable of producing, and the divide between you and her friend group is blaringly obvious. They like her because of the rush she can help them achieve; you like her because of her.

That thought persists in her mind for the rest of detention, and before she knows it, the monitor is releasing you again. She bends down to put her notebook in her bag when a thought pops into her mind: she wants to ask if you want to go to the park with her. When she's done zipping her bag up, she looks back up at you, only to find you on your phone, talking to someone.

"Yeah, mom. I'll stop by on the way home. So milk, cereal, ramen, and paper towels, right?"

She watches as you wait for a reply, tucking the phone into the crook of your neck as you move to write the list down on a spare piece of paper.

"Alright, love you, too. See you later." You hang up before looking back at Rosie. She looks a little down, and you have no idea why.

You pause for a moment, silently psyching yourself up for what you're about to ask. "This is gonna sound really strange, but do you want to come with me to the store?"

Her heart's pace increases at that, happy to know that you want to spend more time with her, just as she does with you.

"Actually, yeah. That sounds like fun."

You grin at her before spinning around and doing a little celebratory dance, which wins you a strange look from the monitor. You stick your tongue out at him before grabbing her hand and rushing out of the room, hearing his disapproval shouted after you.

--

"Milk?"

"Check."

"Ramen?"

"Check."

"Cereal?"

"Nope."

You nod at her words, now reminded of what you were forgetting. You push the buggy towards the aisle of cereals, gazing around in wonder at the huge selection. Rosé is just the same, eyeing all of the options like a kid in a candy store. After grabbing your mom's favorite kind, you decide on one for yourself and bring it back to the cart. Rosie scoots her leg over, making room for them beside where she sits, reclined in the cart.

You grin when you see her eyeing a box of fruit loops. Huh; fruity. Go figure.

You wordlessly grab the box and hand it to her, feeling your heart melt when she looks up at you like you hold the key to the universe.

"Thank you, Y/N."

"No problem, Rosie." You say, putting your hands on the bar as you begin pushing the buggy again. "Now, I say we see how long it takes to get to the paper towel aisle. My last record was 30 seconds."

She looks at you, clearly impressed, with her eyebrows raised. Without question, she pulls her phone out and gets the stop watch feature ready to go.

"3...2...1... GO!" She shouts, commanding your legs to start pumping as you race down the long strip of store before you. A couple kids dart out of the way just before getting smacked into, quickly turning around and cheering you on as you charge forward.

Her giggles fill the air as you drift around a corner, shouting apologies to the lady you almost bumped into.

"Sorry ma'am!"

A few seconds later, chest heaving and legs sore, you come to a stop in the aisle, dramatically collapsing in a heap next to the buggy. Rosé checks her phone as she reaches down to poke you.

"22.18 seconds, champ," she declares victoriously, smiling when you magically regain enough energy to stand up and celebrate.

"Woohoo! Team Y/S/N (Your Ship Name) for the win!"

She laughs along at that, joining in on your celebration, but she's blushing like crazy on the inside.

-----

The Last Day Of Detention

Ever since your trip to the store, you and Rosé have grown closer and closer. You traded numbers and text occasionally, though nothing beats having her all to yourself for 2 hours straight with no distractions. She feels the same; when she's in class, she can't wait for the bell to ring and signal your reunion. Part of her wants to get in trouble again, just to see you more often.

So, as you'd expect, it's really no surprise that you're sat right in front of her again, telling jokes and asking about her day. You've grown a bit more bold with every step closer you've taken towards her heart, and now you reach down to intertwine your fingers with hers.

She happily accepts, even bringing your hand up to her lips to press a kiss to the back of it. She smiles against your skin after it, making butterflies take flight in your stomach. She's got you wrapped around her finger, and you don't even try to fight it anymore.

The sound of the classroom door opening alerts you, making her lower your hand. She doesn't let go of you, though, and that fact warms your heart for some reason. The squeaky hinges groan out again as the door opens wider, revealing about 4 or 5 people from the friend group that she hangs out with. They motion for her to sneak out with them, but she just shakes her head.

"Come on, Rosé!" They whisper-scream, offering her a way to freedom. Little do they know that she'd take this imprisonment over freedom any day, so long as you're by her side.

"No! Get out before he wakes up!" She whisper-shouts back, eventually convincing them to leave.

"Why didn't you go?" You ask once they're gone, toying with her fingers as your hands rest on the desk.

"Because I like spending time with you." She admits, letting her defenses down.

"I was hoping you'd say that," you smile, letting her know that you feel the same.

The Fallout

After detention, the two of you walked out of the school, hand in hand

"Would you maybe, I don't know... wanna go to the park with me?" She asks nervously, glancing up at you.

"You read my mind, Rosie." You smile at each other and head towards the parking lot.

You started hanging out more, and she distanced herself from her old crowd

You encouraged her to enroll in your school's art program and show her work that way

"You're really talented; it deserves to be seen."

Your support meant the world to her, and she never failed to let you know

"Thank you, Y/N. Having you behind me means the world to me."

At one of her art shows, where she was tasked with unveiling a new piece that she'd been working on for months, you got the biggest surprise of your life.

She created a mural of you, all decked out with every color of the rainbow, utterly gorgeous

She lit up when she saw your reaction

"This piece is titled 'Mine', which I hope the girl in it will soon be." She says into the microphone, looking at you with hope shining in her eyes.

You nod your head with a smile and walk up to her, pressing your lips to hers in a kiss that was long-overdue. She wraps her arms around your waist, pulling you in closer with her sweater-padded hands and kissing you again and again.

The crowd claps for you, happy to see such an ending.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Lisa

I couldn't choose between these two gifs so enjoy both for the price of one ^^^

Lisa Manoban: Cocky, smug, and self-assured. The dancer knew she was hot shit, and she wasn't afraid to show off.

You're all for people being confident and happy with themselves, especially when they're talented, but something about Lisa always seemed to rub you the wrong way.

Whether it be her lack of a filter or the arrogant swagger that she naturally exuded, you weren't sure. People wanted to either be her or be with her, but you fell into neither of those categories.

She always left you frustrated in one way or another, whether it be from her teasing or her witty comebacks

The teachers loved her, as did the students. She was the class clown, so her position was pretty sacred in the grand scheme of things

You, on the other hand, irritated her for other reasons. You were the only person she couldn't get to crack; you never gave into her charms, and it infuriated her to no end. She wasn't used to not getting what she wanted (as childish as that may seem) and having you, one of the most attractive girls at school, turn her down? Well that was a massive blow to her ego.

You weren't afraid to say your piece, and that both pleasantly surprised and upset her.

She constantly tried to flirt with you in class, but you knew it was all for the attention. She just wanted to make her friends laugh, which they always did.

"Y/N, come here babe. There's an empty seat next to me," she coos, batting her eyelashes as you walk in the door. It's a free day, so everyone is sitting with their friends, wherever they like.

"I'm good," you decline, deciding to sit against the wall beneath the large window of the classroom.

"Oooo, denied," Lisa's friends laugh at her this time, chuckling harder when she sticks her middle finger up at them.

"Yah, shut up," she says, nursing her bruised ego as she turns around and opens her phone.

You smile as you continue working on the homework you cracked open, scribbling an answer down onto the notebook paper in front of you. Your fingers glide over your textbook in search of the definition of the term you're on, and Lisa secretly watches from afar. Without realizing it, she grins when you light up upon spotting the answer.

Sometimes her flirting does work, though, and you turn into a blushing mess

*whistle* "Damn, Y/N. You're looking fine today," she exclaims, fanning herself. You worry that she doesn't really mean it, but when her eyes remain on you a second too long to just be friendly, you blush. She's taking in all of you, looking impressed all the while.

"Right back at you, Manoban." You wink, sitting down in your seat across the room. She lightly blushes back, though she does a good job of concealing it.

Considering you share a couple classes and the class sizes are relatively small, it was pretty likely that you'd end up paired together eventually

You weren't happy about it, especially not after the way she had acted that week. Her cockiness had been at an all time high as of late, leaving you frustrated and upset. She was so full of herself; all you wanted to do was wipe that stupid smirk off her face.

"Y/N, you'll be paired with Lisa," your photography teacher informs, pushing her glasses up higher on the bridge of her nose.

"But Mrs. Ta--"

"Pairings are final," she cocks her head at you, persuading you to give in. With a sigh, you respond, "Yes ma'am," and attempt to ignore the sound of Lisa's friends high fiving each other in celebration.

The Turning Point

"My parents are gone for the rest of the week..." she says, holding the door open for you as you carry in your equipment. A hint of suggestiveness lies in it; she's alluding to exactly what you think she is, and you push her shoulder upon realizing it.

"Knock it off, Manoban."

"Okay, okay," she chuckles, listening to you for once. The surprise is clear on your face.

She leads you towards the backyard, where you set up one of your highest power cameras and turn it on. You have to create a gallery of different photos, all under the same theme. You both agreed to do a time-lapse of the sunset, and take pictures of the stars after.

Once she makes sure that the timer is set correctly and that the auto shut-off feature is enabled, she motions for you to follow her back into the house. You do, and she leads you into the kitchen.

"Do you want a snack?"

"Sure, do you have any ramen?"

She nods, quickly busying herself by bending down and searching through the cabinets. After she finds it, exclaiming a pleased, "Aha!", she tells you to go get comfortable in the living room.

Three minutes later, from your place on the couch, you begin to smell something burning. You scramble up and rush to the kitchen, only to find Lisa running around like a headless chicken, attempting to put out the small fire she started.

"HOW THE HELL DID YOU MANAGE TO BURN RAMEN?" You shout, though your tone isn't angry. You're just very shocked, and loud about it. You push her away from the pot, albeit gently, and get the flames to go down relatively quickly. You turn the burners off and put the pot in the sink, leaning against the counter to recover from the adrenaline rush.

"Oops?" She asks more so that says, with a growing smile evident in her voice.

You shake your head and chuckle despite yourself, turning around to face her. "You can order a pizza now to make up for that." You point a finger at her, grinning stupidly when she presses the tip of hers to it.

"Your wish is my command, princess."

Thankfully you're already walking away as she says that, so she doesn't get the satisfaction of seeing you blush.

---

"Lisa, I can't keep going." You groan out, sweat dripping down your face. The pizza you ate earlier is giving you a stomache ache, paired with the physical activity you're doing.

"Y/N, just a little longer, we're almost there," she huffs out, keeping her movements steady somehow. You're a mess by now, so you don't understand how she's still going.

A couple minutes later, the TV in front of you lights up, saying, "Awesome moves! You win!" as you collapse to the ground in a heap.

Why you agreed to play Just Dance with her after eating is beyond you.

"Good job," she compliments, grabbing your hand to high five herself with it.

"Yeah, yeah," you roll over, catching your breath.

She lays down beside you as you recover, telling jokes to hear that laugh that she loves so much. She prefers yours over anyone elses, so it's always such a reward when she gets you to crack up.

"We should probably head up now," she notes, realizing that the stars will be coming out soon. You agree, and she carefully helps you up.

"Here, I'll carry you," she turns, bending down so you can get on her back.

"Lisa, you can't carry me," you brush off, feeling insecurity bubble up again like it always does when you're offered a piggyback ride.

"Y/N, I promise that I can. Trust me," she reassures, looking into your eyes sincerely.

"Alright," you sigh, standing onto the couch to get on easier.

"See?" She asks, sliding her warm hands up your thighs to keep you secured against her. "I've got you, babe."

You tuck your head into the space between her shoulder and neck, inhaling the sweet scent of her perfume.

"I'm gonna punch you if you drop me," you whisper, feeling her laugh against you.

"Fair enough."

-----

Later, On The Rooftop

"Careful," she instructs, outstretching a hand to help you climb out the window. Her camera hangs around her neck, and she takes the cap off of the lense once you're both safely sitting on the roof.

"Wow," you sigh, gazing up at the sky in wonder. Her house is far enough away from the city that you're rewarded with a gorgeous view of the stars, unburdened by the industrial fog that hangs over the cosmopolis.

"It's beautiful out here," you say, looking back at her. You tense up a bit, not expecting her to already be looking at you.

"Sorry," she laughs at herself, looking away once she gets caught admiring you.

"It's okay," you reach down and gently squeeze her hand, making her blush lightly.

"Let's get started," you conclude, pointing at the camera. She nods, knowing that she'd never get the assignment done if you didn't step in to tell her to (considering she'd rather admire you), and she points the device to the sky.

After snapping a few pictures, she lays back in order to get a better vantage point of one of the star systems. She hands it to you after she's satisfied with her work, and you take your turn with it.

She notices that you keep brushing your hair out of the way when it falls in your face, so she decides to help you.

"Here," she says, saddling up behind you. She gathers your hair up, running her fingers through it to neatly pull it up for you. Thankfully she always keeps a spare tie on her wrist.

"Thanks," you smile, snapping another picture. The simple act warms your heart; she's being selfless for once, and helping you without even being asked. It's a refreshing change of pace.

"You're welcome." She chirps, sitting back down beside you.

-----

Later, In Her Bedroom

"Oh, I really like that one!" She says excitedly, pointing at the TV. Her phone, which is connected via Bluetooth and automatically receives pictures of her choosing from the camera, is displaying some of your best shots.

"Yeah, you did really well with that. I think we might beat everyone else if we use that as our cover piece."

Your compliment makes her momentarily shy, and she quickly realizes how much she loves your praise.

The two of you continue like that, reviewing the different pictures and choosing your favorites. She always finds ways to compliment yours, noting your technique or the filter you used, and it always makes you smile. She's different than you're used to, and it's throwing you for a loop, pleasantly surprising.

---

Lisa steps out of the room to go to the bathroom a few minutes later, leaving her phone connected to the TV. A ding sounds out across the space, pulling your attention away from the stack of notes laid out before you. Your eyes dart up to the screen, reading the text message that appeared at the top of it.

Austin ⛓: "Dude, did you get into her pants yet? We're literally betting over here 😂"

You blink a few times as their words sink in, making your chest hurt. You were really beginning to believe that you had been wrong about Lisa; clearly, though, your instincts were right.

Feeling betrayed, you shove your folders back into your bag and stand from the chair, willing yourself not to cry. The sound of the sink turning on lets you know that she's almost done, so you hurry your movements and make your way towards the door. She steps out into the hall just as you exit her room, looking at you with wide eyes.

"Woah, woah, woah, what's going on?" She asks with furrowed brows, approaching you. One of her hands lands on your arm, and you shrug it off as you brush past her without another word.

"Y/N, did I do something wrong?" She asks from the top of her staircase, watching as you walk towards her foyer.

"Why don't you ask Austin?" You bitterly call over your shoulder as you turn the knob, slipping out the front door. She hangs her head upon registering your words, realizing what must've happened. She makes a mental note to give him hell when she sees him again.

Tears sting your eyes as you exit the house, wrapping your jacket tighter around yourself. You should've known something like this would happen. The chilly night air bites at your skin, stealing more of its warmth away with every step you take. The temperature doesn't change your mind, though; you're upset, and you'd rather freeze out here than be face to face with her right now.

"Y/N, wait!" She calls after you, blasting out the front foor. Her footfalls sound off behind you, announcing her rapid approach, but you don't turn around. Realizing this, she darts in front of you, keeping you from walking any further.

"Please, don't go. He's an idiot, Y/N."

"He might he an idiot, but that doesn't take away what he said," you scowl, clenching your jaw. "Betting? Really, Lisa?" You ask quietly, hurt evident in your voice.

"It was a stupid thing they tried to convince me to do. I didn't want to, but I couldn't stop them from talking once you and I were paired up. That's not what I want, though. I'm not just in it for that."

"How am I supposed to believe that? This is your M.O., Lisa."

"It's different with you, I don't know why." That's a lie; she knows exactly why you're different than anyone else she's flirted with in the past.

You stand there before her, silently weighing your options. After seeing the pleading look in her eye, her dark orbs full of sincerity, you relent. "Just take me home. We'll work on it another day," you compromise, allowing her in just enough to take you home, but not enough to stay at her place any longer. You're still weary after a text like that, and you will be for a while.

"Thank you," she breaths a sigh of relief, clasping her hands behind herself as you begin walking back to her house. She notices you shiver on the way, and she slips her jacket off without hesitation to cover you. Neither of you have to say anything; one glance from you is enough for her, and she's content knowing you're warm.

The Fallout

From there on out she was always honest with you and actually spoke out when her friends tried to do something stupid

She still remained the charming class clown that she naturally is, just getting rid of the not-so-nice parts of herself

You slowly let her regain your trust, little by little

She did nice things for you on the daily, whether it be holding the door, carrying your books, or offering to buy you some lunch

"Morning, Y/N. Wanna grab some breakfast?" She asks, moving her head to the side towards the café at the center of campus.

"Sure," you smile, laughing when she celebrates.

She invites you to her dance perfomances

When she goes to championships, you're always first on her list of invites

"I want you there." She declares, handing you the flyer.

"You've got it," you decide, knowing there's no where you'd rather be. "I wouldn't miss it for the world."

At said championship, she won the highest title and claimed victory for your school

You joined the rest of the team on the stage to celebrate, congratulating the solo dancer on her achievement.

"I'm so proud of you, Lis--"

She suddenly kisses you, clearly high off her win. She pulls back when she realizes what she just did, a worried look on her face.

"Shit, I'm sorry." She looks between your eyes, attempting to gauge your reaction.

"Get your ass back here," you order, feeling butterflies take flight when she eagerly presses her lips to yours again, wrapping her arms around you to spin you.

"Does this mean I'm forgiven?" She mumbles against your lips.

You squint, pretending to think about it. "Maybe... or maybe not."

Her subsequent gasp is quickly muffled by your kiss, which she can't seem to get enough of.

[hizashis-lil-bunbun]

No Rest for the Wicked- HardDom!Dabi X Fem! Brat Reader

Prompt: Dabi just wants to take a nap but everything goes wrong

I asked a friend in one of my discord groups for a random writing prompt when I was up late. Something about this one activated my inner ✨brat✨

Enjoy!

Word Count: 3.3k

Kinks/Warnings: brat taming, degradation, pain play, spanking, belting, mild dacryphilia, bondage, edging and denial, hints of dubcon

Banner made by the always lovely @ladyshinigami!

••••••••••••••

Exhausted.

That was the best way to sum up Dabi’s mood as he trudged through the bar fronting the League’s headquarters. Shigaraki had sent him out on a mission with orders to “stake out and take out” a small band of up-and-coming heroes. It had been easy enough to find them (newbies can never resist being flashy), but making sure they were all disposed of was another matter. A matter only made more complicated by a few rogue civilians that happened to spot him. It had taken him two full days to track everyone down, leaving him covered in blood, soot, and burns. In short, Dabi needed a break.

“Well, well, well.” Came the nasally voice of their fearless leader, “The prodigal son returns! Took you long enough, Dabi. Hope that means you didn’t fuck up the mission.”

“Don’t get your panties in a twist.” Dabi snaps back, too tired and sore to care about his tone. Not that he’d be any kinder to Shigaraki if he wasn’t. “I did what you asked and left no witnesses. Now piss off before I turn you into a smoldering pile.”

Shigaraki didn’t rise to Dabi’s bait, opting to simply flip him the bird before going back to whatever game console he was currently obsessed with. Dabi returns the gesture in kind, glowering as he disappears behind the bar and into the League’s living quarters. Their warehouse provides more than enough space for everyone to have their own room, and the boss even allowed them to decorate and furnish them as they pleased. Wasn’t that generous? Dabi plods down the hallway to his assigned room and kicks open the door only to find it was occupied. By you.

“Dabi?” You question for a moment before your eyes light up with excitement. “Dabi! You’re back!”

As a fellow Stain devotee, you’d sought out the LOV and been initiated as a member a mere six months ago. And two months later, you’d been initiated into Dabi’s bed. You wouldn’t exactly call yourselves “lovers.” Love was few and far between in a hornet’s nest of villains. But you’d certainly become something more than the occasional lay.

He grunts as he stalks into the room, shedding his coat and boots as he went. Dabi was never big on grand displays of affection. And in his current state, that small show of acknowledgment may as well have been equivalent to a bear hug.

“I missed you.” You chirp back, undeterred by his gruff response. “How was the mission?”

“Long and shitty.” Came his terse reply as he strips off the rest of his clothes and grabs a towel from a nearby wall hook. “I need a fucking shower.”

He wraps the towel around his waist before he sets about searching for body wash and a first aid kit. Greedy eyes roam the plane of his toned torso, eager to touch the scarred and stapled flesh you’d spent many a night mapping out. Before joining the League, you’d never had an opinion one way or the other on touch or physical intimacy. You didn’t dislike it by any means; it was just something people did, fuck buddies or otherwise. But now that you’d shared a bed with Dabi, your perspective had changed. His rough touch was your drug of choice, intoxicating in all the best ways. And with him being gone for almost 72 hours? It was safe to say you were jonesing for a hit.

“Oooh, sounds like fun.” You purr, sprawling out on the mattress in a catlike stretch. “Want me to join you? I think we could use a little… quality time together.”

He snorts derisively at that, straightening up once he’d found his supplies and fixing you with a deep scowl. So pretty even when he’s pissed. You bat your eyelashes in return.

“Don’t get cute, dollface. Once I get cleaned up I’m passing out for the next century.”

Before you can shoot off another coquettish remark, he turns on his heel and marches out the door in the direction of the communal showers. You huff and clamber out of bed to follow him, determined that he wouldn’t get away so easily.

“C’mon Dabi!” You whine, trotting along behind him as he stalks down the hallway. “I haven’t seen you in days! Are you really just gonna give me the cold shoulder?”

“Yup.” He snaps back, shooting you a harsh glare over said shoulder before barging through the bathroom door. From the other side you can hear his bark of “Move it, psycho!” followed by an indignant squeak from whom you can only assume to be Toga. You huff and stamp your foot like a petulant child, turning on your heel to flounce off in the direction of the League’s bar front.

“Bastard.” You seethe under your breath, “Who does he think he is, ignoring me like that? It’s his fault I’m so pent up. If I tried ignoring him when he was all hot and bothered–!”

You pause for a moment as a lightbulb goes off in your head. A single impish thought flashes through your mind and it causes your lips to curl into a Cheshire grin. He wants to play games? You’ll give him games.

You continue your trek into the dimly-lit, woodpandeled speakeasy, a renewed vigor in your stride as you make a beeline for the bar top. Kurogiri is standing behind it as per usual, wiping out a pint glass like the faithful bartender he pretends to be. You sidle up to the bar and place both hands on the oaken surface, adopting a sweet, too-innocent lilt to your voice.

“Kuro-baby.” You purr, the cutesy pet name causing the misty specter to look up from his task. “Can I have a glass of water, please? With lots of ice, if you don’t mind.”

Wordlessly, Kurogiri sets down the glass and picks up a shorter one, using it to scoop up a generous portion of ice from the freezer below before filling it nearly to the brim from the tap. If he has any suspicion of you, he’s very good at hiding it. The same can’t be said for Shigaraki, sitting a few stools down from you and still tapping away at the buttons of his console.

“Fucking with Staples again?” He questions disinterestedly, followed by a hiss of annoyance when the game lets out a series of gunshots. He must have gotten himself killed again.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You shoot back airily, swiping the glass from Kurogiri’s outstretched hand and hopping off your own barstool.

“It’s your funeral!” He calls after you, waving you off with one hand. You snicker as you march back into the living quarters, one hand wrapped around the chilled glass and the other flattened over the top to ensure you won’t spill a drop along the way. Soon you find yourself back in front of the bathroom door and, suppressing the urge to giggle, you slowly push through it and into the steamy room beyond. In spite of the hideout’s outward appearance, the place is surprisingly clean and well-kempt (all thanks to den mother Kurogiri). Two sinks stand against the left-hand side of the wall, with two doors opposite them leading to the toilets. Next to the sinks are the showers: three open-faced, tile cubes barely covered by flimsy plastic curtains. Toga is standing in front of the nearest sink, wearing a skimpy pair of Hello Kitty pajamas and washing the blood and goop from her latest transformation out of her navy, pleated skirt. She looks up at you when you enter and you quickly put one finger to your lips, smirking as you point between the glass and the running shower beyond. Toga lets loose a sadistic giggle of her own before hastily shushing herself when you hear Dabi’s bark of “Pipe down out there!”

As you move past her, you can see her mouth the words, “You’re so dead, big sis.”

You can feel a jolt of adrenaline course through your veins as you sneak up to the edge of the tiled wall separating the shower from the rest of the bathroom, the glass in your hand shaking briefly. A small amount of water sloshes over the rim and spatters onto the floor, the sound barely overshadowed by the shower.

“Doll?”

His low, rumbling voice coming from the other side of the curtain sends another shiver down your spine.

“What are you up to out there?” He growls dangerously, as if he has a sixth sense when it comes to you and your shenanigans. For just a moment, the rational part of your brain takes over and makes you question your actions. Dabi’s already in a foul mood, and getting worse by the second by the sound of it. Maybe if you hold off and behave like a good girl–

Your body seems to move of its own accord. The next thing you know, the contents of the glass are sailing through the air, arching high over the plastic curtain rod and landing with a messy splat onto your unwitting victim on the other side.

“What the fu–!” Dabi’s curse is cut off by yours and Toga’s mad giggling as you sprint out of the bathroom and down the hallway. Passing by a very confused-looking Spinner, you dart inside Dabi’s room and slam the door, locking it for good measure. Seconds later, he’s pounding on it, using enough force that you’re convinced it might splinter and break off its hinges.

“Open this door right now and make this easier on yourself!” He roars, furiously jiggling the handle.

You let him pound away for a few more seconds, in part to allow yourself time to catch your breath but mostly to delay the unenviable punishment. With a deep, steadying breath, you plaster on a mildly amused expression, undo the lock, and pull open the door. Dabi is visibly seething, water dripping from his hair and cascading in rivulets down his toned chest onto the towel slung low on his hips. His brows are knitted together in rage, turquoise eyes flashing dangerously while one hand is still raised in a fist.

“Oh hey, babe. Done with the shower al–?”

His hands are around your throat before you can blink, your sassy remark devolving into a high-pitched squeak.

“You little bitch.” He spits at you, forcibly backing you further into the room as he advances. “Was that your idea of a joke?”

“N-no.” You gasp in response, voice slightly raspy from the pressure on your jugular. “I just thought–“

“Thought what exactly?” Dabi growls, kicking the door shut behind him with one foot before giving your shoulders a hard shove and pushing you onto the bed. You land with a slight bounce, the momentum giving you just enough time to prop yourself up on your elbows.

“Well?” He hisses, venom dripping from the word as he glares down at you.

“I was worried.” You start slowly, tone almost loving as you gaze up at him with big, doe eyes. “You seemed so tense when you got back. And don’t think I didn’t notice those new burns on your arms. So I thought, since the mission was so hard on you…”

Your face suddenly splits into a shit-eating grin.

“I thought you might need to cool down for a minute.”

Dabi blinks for a second, seemingly struck dumb by your remark. And then his hands are back on you in an instant, roughly flipping you over to lie chest-down with your legs hanging off the edge of the bed.

“Of all the stupid–“

Your shirt is ripped over your head from behind.

“Immature–“

There goes the bra, clasps and straps lost to a wildfire of blue flames as it falls away from your body in a charred heap.

“Bratty little schemes.”

Your leggings and panties are harshly yanked down, slipped off, and discarded into some unknown corner of the room. You feel cool air hit your legs and backside, moments before a harsh slap lands on your right cheek. With a yelp, you cast a wide-eyed glance over your shoulder at the menacing presence behind you; a pillar of rage and sadistic urges looming over your naked form.

“You wanted my attention that badly, dollface? Well I’m sorry to say you’ve got it now.”

Before you can react beyond a pained, needy whimper, Dabi hooks his right arm under your thighs to haul you up and onto the bed. He lays his full weight across your back and reaches around and underneath the farthest edge of the bed to produce a simple, black cuff, attached to the nylon spreader running along the underside of the mattress. Giving it a few cursory tugs, he grabs ahold of your right wrist and yanks it towards the corresponding corner, attaching the device with practiced speed and precision. You continue to writhe and pant below him, muttering a litany of curses and “no’s” as he does the same to the opposite side. You’re now bound by both wrists, unable to do more than thrash wildly on the mattress in a humiliating, spread eagle position.

“Seems like you need a reminder of who’s in charge around here.” He snarls in your ear, pushing himself off of you and marching over to his discarded pile of clothing. You can hear the soft rustle of fabric, followed by the telltale clink of metal on metal that makes your eyes go wide.

“Y-you wouldn’t dare…” You start breathlessly, just before the first blinding sting of leather greets your exposed skin, right at the juncture where the soft swell of your ass meets the tender flesh of your thighs.

“That’s where you’re wrong, sweetheart.” Dabi says mockingly, his tone dripping with false pity and saccharine sweetness as he takes his place at the edge of the bed once more. “I don’t have any problems dealing with a mouthy… little… brat like you.”

His words are punctuated by three more vicious blows, this time striking the meatiest part of your ass and sending the pliant flesh jiggling. The metal rivets in his belt only add to the pain, biting into your rapidly heating flesh and causing tears to prick at the corners of your eyes. Shifting your hips in a futile attempt to get away from Dabi and his newfound torture device, you roll partly onto your side and look over at him with watery, pleading eyes.

“S-sir… Dabi, please!” You sputter out, voice already wavering as your resolve crumbles beneath the stinging sensation. But Dabi’s not in the mood for bargaining. Instead, he growls as he wraps an arm around your waist and shoves his left knee underneath your belly, hiking your ass further into the air.

“Hold still!” He barks at you, another crack of his belt sending a fresh wave of searing pain along your already raw skin. You scream in agony, unable to do more than wriggle and squirm against his hold.

“Start counting, brat.” He demands huskily, your only warning before the next punishing spank meets your burning flesh.

“One!” You gasp out, “I’m sorry! Please–!”

Another blow lands, somehow harder than all the others, revisiting the spot where ass and thigh meet and causing you to wail in pain.

“Too late for apologies, dollface. The only thing I wanna hear from that slutty little mouth is counting. Understand me?”

The arm looped around your waist tightens in warning, and you hiccup before sputtering out a shaky, “T-two.”

“That’s more like it.”

He continues spanking you at a steady pace, the only respite coming when he pauses to hear you choke out the next number. By ten strokes, you’re bawling. By fifteen, you’re practically brain dead, unable to quell the sobs that wrack through your body or think beyond the next count. He mercifully stops at twenty, dropping the belt and loosening his own grip on you. All you can focus on is the burning pain radiating out from your tanned backside, sobbing as you bury your face into the pillow below you for comfort. Dabi’s own breathing is heavy and ragged, and he takes a few deep, measured breaths to steady himself. After a few moments, that hand that once held his belt is carefully laid on the curve of your ass, and you gasp both at the gentle touch and the shock of prickly pain it brings. Judging by the way he strokes the heated flesh, you’re sure the silver eyelets have left a series of bruises behind.

“S-s-sir.” You blubber, “I’m... I…”

“Shhhh, quiet down.” He says softly, voice uncharacteristically tender as he runs his hand along the width of your heated cheeks. “It’s over now. You did so well.”

The unexpected praise makes you whimper beneath his affections, devolving into a quiet moan as his hand travels even lower, fingers coming to rest at the entrance to your heated core. He begins to gently massage at your folds, middle finger slipping inside to find you impossibly wet and clenching around the digit.

“You filthy little thing…” He breathes out on a chuckle, “Are you really that turned on by me beating the hell out of your cute little ass?”

His finger delves deeper, pussy eagerly sucking him in as you keen below him. His free hand begins to lightly scratch up and down your back, goosebumps rising in the wake of each careful caress. Without thinking, you shift further onto your knees, fighting through the pain to push against his hand.

“Please, Sir.” You moan wantonly, “More. Please.”

With another dark chuckle, Dabi slips a second finger inside of you and begins to languidly pump them in and out. Pain and pleasure meld together in a sinful symphony, pants and whimpers coming from you as you rock your abused body against his own scarred flesh. He adjusts the angle and crooks his fingers downwards, curling them just shy of that sensitive bundle of nerves you know would have you seeing stars. Your back arches as you hungrily push against him, dignity forgotten in the face of pure, carnal desire.

“Getting impatient, are we?” He growls teasingly, fingers suddenly slipping out from your sopping core and wrenching a high-pitched whine from the back of your throat. He moves off the bed entirely, ordering you to stay put as he walks over to the nearby dresser and opens up the top drawer. Like the cuffs would allow you to do anything otherwise.

“Ah, here we go.” He says after a few seconds of rummaging, striding back over to the bed and taking up residence behind you. You feel the mattress dip under his weight seconds before his hands find your hips, roughly hauling them upwards and forcing your face further into the pillows. You shriek as he grabs ahold of your left cheek and squeezes harshly, pain shooting up your spine like a bolt of summer lightning. Something hard and cool prods at your quivering entrance, briefly brushing against your clit before being plunged inside of you. The sudden stretch feels at once too much and deeply satiating, sending burning, pleasurable heat licking across your oversensitized nerves. Once the toy is sunk to the hilt, Dabi gives a short grunt of satisfaction before sliding off the bed and circling around to lean over your quivering form. You turn your head to face him and he smirks at the sight of your fucked out expression: eyes red and puffy, cheeks streaked with half-dried tears, lips swollen from the bluntness of your own teeth.

“Aren’t you a sight?” He hums lowly, brushing away an errant strand of hair to plant a condescending kiss to your temple. “Such a needy little slut for me.”

With another dark chuckle, Dabi pats your cheek, straightens up, and turns towards the door.

“Wait!” You squeak out, squirming against your restraints as you watch his retreating back. “You’re just gonna leave me like this?”

“That’s the plan, dollface.” He shoots back, casting you a wicked grin over his left shoulder as he pulls the door open. “At least until I finish my shower.”

[eldritch-biqch]

Say Goodbye is Anti’s Demonstration of Power, c!Jack is IRIS’s equivalent of a Class D, and How IRIS Pissed off Anti (revival technology)

It’s a long title, but I think some people might enjoy these short theories all about Say Goodbye.

I’d recommend reading my theory on Kill Jacksepticeye and how it’s all about Anti threatening IRIS, this will kind of be in the same vein, and definitely follows the rules of ‘take this with a pinch of salt, it hinges on a lot of assumptions’. Also, as always, I’m open to being corrected on what we do and don’t know! Please just be polite about it :)

1. SG is just Anti establishing himself as a Professional Menace(TM)

In Say Goodbye, there is no obvious reason for Anti to kill Jack. Of course, there could always be backstory beef between them, but apart from Anti wanting a vessel (in which case he could kill anyone and take their body), there isn’t really much basis for Anti having it out specifically for Jack.

If Anti and Jack were put together for the express purpose of IRIS seeing what he’d do, then we can narrow it down to a couple of reasons:

Anti was bored and wanted to shake things up

Anti does have something against Jack, in which case it’s antis lucky day (but why did he wait the entire month before going in for the kill?)

Rather than having something against Jack, Anti wanted to send a message to IRIS. “Hey, look at this. I’m literally playing with you. I can murder this guy right now in a horrible way if I want to. Don’t believe me? Just watch!”

We’re going with the third option here. Anti knows that IRIS is watching their interactions, and he plays along, making them believe that he’s just annoying and makes people glitch out a bit, luring the watchers into a false sense of security with him. As soon as Say Goodbye comes along, they’re confident enough that Anti is harmless to give Jack some knives. They’re trusting Anti around weapons. Anti sees his chance, and not only demonstrates his power of possession and murderous intent, but also his ability to manipulate people: he made an entire agency believe he was harmless (of course, Jack was terrified but so would you if you were put with this entity for a month to see what happened and you were being constantly possessed).

Only after Say Goodbye do IRIS take Anti seriously, they give him his padded cell and keep him under surveillance.

2. C!Jack is IRIS’s equivalent of a Class D (SCP Foundation)

IRIS wouldn’t put anyone in a room with Anti if they thought they were important. They knew he could be dangerous, and it’s not worth risking your best people. That’s where c!Jack comes in: they put the two of them in a closed off space (all of the first month of the Seánanigans take place inside his house) and kept watching to see what happens. Jack starts playing video games as a way to keep himself entertained, and starts talking to the watchers to keep himself company. They give him the brain chip (see KJSE theory) to monitor him (he is an IRIS employee after all) and let anti loose on him.

See also: “you kept me inside” this could mean a lot of things, but I imagine they contained Anti, then when he got freedom it’s only like, diet freedom: he’s kept inside a locked house with one guy to torment. He feels like he deserves more (this links to part 3 as well).

3. How IRIS pissed off Anti

As I said above, Anti is firstly annoyed at being captured. We don’t know what he is, but I don’t think being kept in a small cell will be nice for anyone or anything. When he’s finally given some freedom, he’s allowed to roam one locked house and has one guy to torment, but that guy doesn’t acknowledge anti at all, he just talks to the camera and occasionally comments that his eye is itchy. Anti thinks he deserves more respect, so kills Jack to prove his point.

But then one day he sees Jack walking around like nothing happened. Mans been revived one way or another (looking at you Henrik and Marvin) and Anti is furious. It’s like IRIS looked at his demonstration, locked him up and just went ‘yeah as long as he’s in here he’s no threat’, basically adding insult to injury re Anti’s self esteem.

Anti wants to prove that he’s strong and menacing, and to do that he sets off making a plan on how to get IRIS to finally take him seriously: show them what he can really do. And that’s where we find KJSE.

[moonbeam-writing]

♡ Day Three: Stupid Cupid ♡

❥ Character: Karma Akabane (Assassination Classroom)

❥ Prompt: Enemies/Rivals to Lovers (+ a hint of Mutual Pining)!

❥ Quick Note: I don't even know how to explain how much fun I had writing this and I'm so excited for the other drabbles to be posted!!

❥ Warnings: None!

❥ Word Count: 2,012

— ♡ —

(Y/N) left out a long sigh as she sat on the balcony of the girl's hotel room. The Kyoto trip had been far more exhausting than she anticipated, though that was partially her fault. With Koro-Sensei as a teacher and Karma back from suspension, she should have known better.

(Y/N) and Karma grew up together, and despite being civil enough to each other, their personalities seemed to clash just enough for something of a rivalry to be formed. Neither of them even knew what they were fighting with the other about. It wasn't who was stronger or more violent, nor was it about who was smarter. They just seemed to need to be better than the other and that was that.

Rio Nakamura, on the other hand, was convinced that she knew the reason. According to her, their little competition was based on who could hide their feelings better. Rio and Koro-Sensei were so sure that the two had feelings for each other, though, obviously, neither of them wanted to admit it.

(Y/N)’s best friend and their teacher came up with a bunch of reasons as to why the two wouldn't admit things. Some of the most likely reasons they had come up with was that Karma just flat out wasn't the type who knew how to deal with his feelings, (Y/N) would be too anxious to make the first move and would rather die, the two were just intimidated by the possible change that it could bring.

As much as (Y/N) hated to admit it, they were right on some level. She liked him, but was horrified by the changes it could bring. The two had spent so long arguing with each other that she wasn't sure what they’d do otherwise. She didn't know where she’d be without Karma’s snarky remarks.

“Penny for your thoughts, sunshine?” A relatively fitting and oftenly used term for Karma Akabane: Speak of the Devil and he shall appear.

Suppressing an smile and instead, rolling her eyes, (Y/N) turned to Karma. The usual smug and teasing smirk he normally wore was plastered onto his lips and all she could do was look back out ahead of herself again before answering.

“Maybe if you were someone else.” She quietly chuckled to herself, moving her eyes to look at him again. “What are you doing here, anyway? Isn't Koro-Sensei still on the loose?”

“Probably.” The redhead shrugged, mirroring the girl beside him. He had to admit, the girls had a nice view.

Karma’s answer took (Y/N) by surprise. “What do you mean? Normally you’re first in line to go after him.” Her shock sounded in her voice and Karma couldn't keep his smirk from widening. “Also, what are you doing here? The room you would have needed to go into to get here is for the girls.”

“Aw, come on, (Y/N)!” Karma heaved a dramatic sigh. “Can’t I just come talk to my favorite girl?”

Though he posed the question like he were kidding, Karma was being completely honest. Despite how the two would often bicker like children, Karma really did feel somewhat close to the girl. After all, wouldn't it be rather difficult not to feel close to someone you've argued, bantered with, and competed against since you were little?

Granted, aside from the rival status that had been bestowed upon them, he recognized that his rivalry with (Y/N) was far different from his rivalry with Asano. He couldn't possibly convey how grateful he was for that. He wasn’t sure that he could cope if (Y/N) hated him.

This rivalry was much more positive and the two of them knew it. They were always secretly proud of whoever came out on top, outwardly giving a sarcastic comment or childish gesture. The two of them also always had the other’s back, despite not always outwardly showing it. That being said, (Y/N) has always blamed Karma for that, due to the fact that he could always seem to take care of himself.

“There’s no way I’m your favorite girl, Akabane. Your favorite girl to annoy? Sure. However, Okuda’s actually your favorite girl.” (Y/N) responded, keeping her tone witty and joking, however there was a slightly bitter edge to it.

(Y/N) would have loved to believe that she was Karma’s favorite girl like he had said, but she couldn’t bring herself to admit it. With Okuda’s brain power, specifically in regards to science, Karma could find quite the partner in crime inside of her after finding her wild side. After all, that was one of the things that Karma did best, at least in (Y/N)’s eyes. He was always so good at helping people let go. 

“Ha ha, I can understand where your mind is probably at, but you’re wrong.” Karma pointed out, turning himself to look at (Y/N) once again. “I barely know her. You, on the other hand, are someone I know. I’ve been bickering with you for years, (Y/N). If you didn’t amuse me in some way, we wouldn’t talk anymore, and I talk to you the most.”

Karma’s words left (Y/N) feeling conflicted. Was he being honest with her? He normally always was, but for some reason she just couldn't find herself believing it. What he said might have been true under normal circumstances, but (Y/N) couldn't see herself as someone who would fall under “normal circumstances”.

Despite her thoughts, (Y/N) couldn't help but laugh a little, though once again, it was more bitter than she anticipated. Regardless, the devilish boy beside her loved the sound.

“I’m sure. Just go back, Karma. Everyone’s probably going to come back soon, you wouldn’t want any of the questions that would follow if you were seen here with me.”

“Okay, and? Half the time they don't question my motives for things, and even then, I don't care.”

(Y/N) mentally swore to herself. She should have known that he would have a way to counter anything she said. Karma always did and it didn't sit right with her sometimes.

Despite how much she secretly adored the sadist, their rivalry absolutely wasn’t good in terms of how (Y/N) would occasionally see herself. To (Y/N), Karma would always be better than her, he would always be right. She had to admit that. It made her proud of him, sure, but it was also frustrating. She couldn’t help but get into her own head about it. (Y/N) always tried her best to get ahead of him, and though she’s supposedly had a few victories, (Y/N) knew that Karma was always going to be better than her. It was just an unspoken fact at this point.

“Right,” (Y/N) relented with a sigh. “Sorry.”

“You should be!” Karma answered as though he were stating the obvious. The girl beside him flinched slightly as though she had done something wrong.

Though Karma wasn't always the best with his own feelings, he could read others like a book. Even more so the girl he has always considered to be his best friend and one-and-only. Karma knew exactly what’s been going on in her head and it bums him out every time. So, with all of that said, the boy decided that tonight he’d put all of his thoughts about her out into the open. She seemed as though she needed to hear something nice about herself.

“You need to think more of yourself, (Y/N)!” Karma couldn't help but smile at the slight widening of (Y/N)’s eyes. Her reactions were some of his favorites.

“What?” (Y/N) almost immediately felt guilt pooling in her stomach. It were as though she were a little kid again and she was caught doing something she wasn’t supposed to and (Y/N) knew Karma noticed. He was too observant to miss it.

Karma’s smirk was as lively as ever. As nice as he wanted to be to the girl beside him, he couldn't help but tease her a little. If anything, he was sure it might cheer her up a little.

“You're so mean to yourself! You spend so much time worrying about whether or not you can actually compete against me, you've been destroying yourself.” He noticed (Y/N)’s grip on the rail in front of her tighten. “If you worry so much about something you’re already succeeding in, you’ll get wrinkles. The smile lines by your eyes are cute, but do you really want more?” He chuckled out, noticing the slight slack in her grip on the railing and the genuine, amused laugh that left her. It was small, but there.

“Getting kind words of caution from you? I never would have thought. To what do I owe the pleasure of those words, Akabane?”

Karma mentally celebrated his win in his head as amused and playful sarcasm laced itself in her words.

He gave a false hum as though he were in thought. “Do you really want to know?”

“You literally just dug yourself into a hole. You know I hate it when people hide things from me.” Karma just laughed as (Y/N) sat there with a pout. “Karma!” She whined. “Tell me!”

“You really wanna know?”

The two could feel the anticipation in the air. It sat heavily between them, but it wasn’t necessarily negative.

“Of course I do! You know I do.”

Once again, Karma found himself snickering at (Y/N). She could just be too cute at times.

“Okay. In that case...” In a very fitting fashion, Karma sat quietly for a moment, adding to (Y/N)’s suspense. “I love you. You’re my favorite rival, my best friend, and somewhere along the way I realized that I love you. You’re the best, (Y/N), and honestly better than me at most things unless it’s math or torture.” He threw a mildly flirty wink her way, taking in the way she averted her gaze away from him, the barely noticeable tint to her cheeks and ears. Karma knew he made the right move.

The two found themselves engulfed in silence again, still full of anticipation, though this time was different. It hinged entirely on (Y/N).

“Really?” Her voice was soft as she looked at Karma in surprise. He nodded at her with a shockingly soft smile. “I love you too.”

Karma grinned widely at her. “I'm not entirely sure on what to do next, I'm going to be completely honest with you.”

The pair laughed together and (Y/N) reached out to take his hand. It was all so new for her and it genuinely made her nervous, but she couldn't help it.

Using their connected hands, Karma pulled (Y/N) closer to him. Nothing big happened, just the two holding hands and being close together.

Until, they heard some noise, that is.

(Y/N) and Karma weren’t sure just how they hadn’t noticed before, probably from being so wrapped up in each other, but nearly right in their line of sight was Koro-Sensei, scribbling away in his little notebook.

The shock of their teacher seemingly coming out of nowhere faded quickly though, as Karma pulled out one of the specially made guns from the pocket of his pants and shot at Koro-Sensei. Unfortunately for the new couple, none of them hit, however it got him to stop writing about them, so they didn't exactly lose.

“You know, I always knew this day would come!” Koro-Sensei exclaimed in his usually theatrical way. “I knew it as soon as Karma was let off of his suspension.”

“Um, okay?”

“Ah, young love. Well, I’ll let you kids get back to it! Though, the girls are back, so good luck!” And just like that, their teacher blasted himself away from the situation at Mach 20.

“Okay, Karma.” (Y/N) sighed, leaning her head against his shoulder. “We have two options. You can either help me sneak away, or we can face the music.”

“We'll just see what happens first.”

[its-warm-in-here]

Playing Pretend

I’m sorry I didn't get this up sooner. I gutted the end but here’s the first part of the first chapter of a Heisenberg x reader fic that will probably go on too long. This is more of a prolog. No smut yet! Written with a female reader in mind, but I may have versions for both m and f when the final product goes up. Gonna start out kinda fluffy before we get darker. Comments and constructive criticism are always appreciated!

Summary: This summer trip to Romania was supposed to be momentous, life changing, and the bases for your master’s thesis. Too bad the villagers want you gone and this ‘Mother Miranda’ won't even see you. Luckily, you run into a greasy engineer who says he can help.

Or

Karl tries to take a day off from being ‘Lord Heisenberg’ with the cute stranger who wandered into the village. Things only spiral from there.

~2080 words

Miranda loved the yearly festivals. She always made a big show of the village, flowers and banners everywhere. The townsfolk would bring out their best clothing, even if their best was still black and brown. The dreary village would come alive with drinking, dancing and merry making. Even some of the neighboring villages would join in the festivities. The town would be near bustling, the local tavern would be full, laughter and song would echo from the church to the castle.

He hated it. All of it. Heisenberg avoided the celebrations, instead opting to stay holed up in his factory as much as possible. And it wasn't just because of the excess of people, while that didn't help. No, it was an insidious purpose for these gatherings. He exhaled a ring of cigar smoke.

First, boost morale through the village and reaffirm the people's faith in Mother Miranda. Second, and far more insidious, was to widen the flock, to expand her influence and bring in new blood for her experiments. The surrounding towns were just as small and removed from the rest of the world as Miranda's village. Made it easy to bring new blood under her wing. Youth would meet and marry, a drunk or four would go missing, and some of the visitors would become new members of Miranda's community. More meat for her Cadou grinder.

Heisenberg flicked the ash from his cigar and watched it float down before the wind caught it. The early morning view from the top of his factory wasn't bad. It was his own part of the world: no view of the village, the stench of the reservoir was nonexistent, and the most he could see of Castle Dimitrescu was a massive wall keeping their territory separated. Just him and his machines. He took another puff. As much as he planned to avoid today, Heisenberg knew that he would have to make at least some appearance. All the Lords did, even if it was just for a moment. Just another way to show her power; having all of her ‘children’ before the townsfolk. He grimaced at the thought. Târgul de Fete was set to start soon. At least that gave him the morning to get shit done. Heisenberg kicked a bit of metal scrap off the roof and it bounced off the scrap heap below with a ping! before landing in the dirt. He rolled his shoulder. Time to get to work.

---

"Well fuck you too!" You slammed the door behind you.  Why even bother going through the proper channels? No matter what, they turn you down, tell you to leave and treat you like an outcast. You spoke to towns folk, to village leaders, hell, you even wanted an audience with their 'Mother Miranda,' but she refused to even see you! You stormed along the path and the few people that had not made their way to the Târgul de Fete celebration steered clear of you, opting to give you a side eye and shuffle to their destination. All you wanted was to observe their festival, and maybe take a few pictures, but even that was negotiable. You had even offered to leave your camera behind with them for the day. Why hadn't you gone to Sweden with the rest of your class? No, instead you went to some culty, backwater town in Romania!

You kicked a rock, hard, sending it flying into the tall grass. "God Damnit!" This was supposed to have been your thesis! Supposed to be life changing! No, now you were just stuck, miles from any true civilization and being kicked out of some stupid, ramshackle heap, whose plants can't even grow right in a Romanian summer. Some of the plants were barely green, most appeared dry or yellowing. The flowers were either wilted and falling apart or hadn't even bloomed. You were no botanist, but you were certain that wasn't healthy.

You kicked another rock, it soared through the grass, but it struck something metal this time before landing with a thud. They didn't want you here, didn't want you at Târgul de Fete? Fine, but they didn't take your camera. Without thinking, you dug the old DSLR out of your bag and snapped a picture of the church.

And immediately deleted it.

You signed. Even if the villagers were a bunch of jackasses, this was their culture and they made it very clear that you were not welcome. Even if they had agreed to all this three months ago. And even if they had called you a bad omen, a poison and a danger to the whole village.  You weren't about to infringe. Crestfallen, you huffed your bag over your shoulder and began the trek back out of town. It was at least a four hour walk to your rental car and a good chunk of that walk was more of a hike. Not like there was much you could do other than leave after cussing out the town speakers and nearly slamming the door off its hinges.

The village had felt abandoned when you walked in, and now that everyone had headed off to a celebration, the village was positively desolate. No traditional brightly-colored dresses or intricate belts to be seen. And no wary or hostile glares from the inhabitants either. It was... quiet. Aside from the occasional crow, you might as well have been in a ghost town. It took you a bit to find the correct path out of the grave yard, but after spinning in circles for a good moment, you pushed past a red door and were back on your way. The village wasn't large, most of the paths were poorly maintained and the whole place was enveloped in a strange fish smell.

You bit the inside of your cheek. This was a good thing, really. Who would've wanted to stay in the ramshackle place for more than a few hours, let alone a few days? You groaned and kicked at the ground again. While not lacking in repellent attributes, the pagan worship of the place fascinated you.  They had their own religion but had incorporated traditional Romania holidays into their culture. Where else in Europe could you see that happen in real time? Of course, you could think of a couple of places, but you had picked here in the Carpathian mountains in particular! While you did have a second choice, you couldn't stop the self pity from setting in.

Ugh.

The village was relatively small and was quickly fading to forest, the castle that overlooked the town vanished behind you as you shuffled down a particularly steep part of the path. The trees here looked more normal, less sickly. While it was only marginally, you felt a bit better, a bit less mad. Stepping away from that place was a breath of fresh air.

Your boots skid a bit as you reach a flat spot. With a huff, you grip both backpack straps to center yourself.  If this couldn't be your thesis, that didn't mean you had to hate the walk. This was Romania afterall, when was the next time you were going to be here? The sky may be overcast, but it sort of added to the eerie charm of this place. You sidestepped your way down another steep incline, using one hand to grip overgrown branches for balance. The last step is a bit further, but you find your footing easily.

And the rock gave way under you, tilting forward with an abrupt grinding sound. A burst of panicked adrenaline rushed through as you struggled to stop. You pitch forward, stumbling over branches and underbrush, your eyes forcibly losing focus.

"The fuck?"

That wasn't your voice. You slammed full force into something, another body? And it gives under you. The other person takes the brunt of the fall, landing on their back with a distinct, "oof."

For a moment, you don't speak, too focused on catching the breath. Finally, your vision swims back and you find your voice, "Damnit... are you ok?"

The man under you goans, sitting half way up to look you over. His hair is grey, and a bit too long, but he couldn't be any older than forty, possibly younger. "Get off." Your eyes go wide and that panicked beat fills your chest. "Ya deaf? Off."

"Er, right," you scramble to your feet and, without thinking, extend a hand to the stranger, "Sorry about... that." You gestured vaguely to the path. "Lost my balance."

He lets out an exasperated huff, and knocks your hand away. For a moment, he doesn't acknowledge you, instead retrieving something from the grass behind him. He's wearing a loose linen shirt, sleeves rolled halfway up with black leather gloves. You force yourself to look somewhere, anywhere else, nervously bouncing from foot to foot. When he turns back to you, he has a tattered, wide brim hat in place and is looking over a pair of broken sunglasses. One of the lenses was clearly shattered, but he hooked them over his shirt collar, his attention finally turning to you. "You're not from around here, huh?”

You couldn't help but snort, "What gave it away, the wind breaker? Don't worry, I'm leaving."

"Leaving?" He repeats.

You start moving back to the path. "Yup, your village speaker has made that very clear."

"They were clear? Not all back and forth on it?" He chuckles, "That's impressive, they must really not like you."

You stare at him, was this a friendly face? It was certainly a handsome face, even with scarring and stubble. But a trustworthy one? "You sure you're ok? Didn't scramble that brain when I ran into you? The rest of the town was pretty dead set on driving me out."

" 'Cause they're a bunch of morons, sweetheart," he insisted, "All part of Mother Miranda's big, idiot mob."

"Huh," you are walking ahead on the path, and he's not but a footfall behind you.

"But they don't matter."

"No?"

"What matters is, why didn't they want you here?"

You stop, turning to face this stranger. He was gruff, and more than a little rude, but in comparison to the townsfolk, he was downright friendly. Hell, you were surprised he was so forward with you.  "Masters thesis," you put plainly, hoping he'll leave it at that.

"On what?"

"Anthropology."

He leaned in close. He wasn't that much taller than you, but you couldn't help but move away from his imposing figure. From this distance, you could smell motor oil and some kind of smoke on his clothes. "That's it?" You scoff, the sooner you are back in your car the better. "I just mean, it's surprising they'd want you gone. You sure there's nothing else? Didn't kick over any goat statues?"

"Not that I noticed," you started back down the path. You'd wasted too much time talking to this weirdo anyway. Just based on his demeanor and dislike of the rest of the village, you wonder if you'd maybe tripped over the town pariah. He certainly wasn't dressed like anyone else from the village.

"I could get you back in."

You stopped, not fifteen feet from him. "You're assuming I want to go back in." And didn’t you? You just risk getting yelled at again. But if there was a chance to write your thesis...

“Well, if you're not interested,” he turned to leave. You grit your teeth, your nails digging deep into your backpack straps.

“Hold up!" It doesn't take much to catch up to him. "How exactly are we going to do this?"

"My word carries a certain amount of weight," he carried on, "Though,  the village doesn't meet on these matters till next week."

"But what good does that-"

He isn't listening, "For today, I know a place you can watch the town. Besides, you're an Archeologist, you probably want an interview, right?" Of course he gestures to himself with a sort of half bow.

You roll your eyes, but still follow, "Anthropologist." He gives you a blank look. "I'm studying Anthropology, not Archeology."

He doesn't seem to care, instead pulling a cigar and lighter from his pants pocket. "Got a name?"

"Oh, (y/n). You?"

The stranger is part way up on the path you had tripped down. "Karl," he had extended you a gloved hand. You look from him to his hand, before brushing past him, pulling yourself up next to him without the offered aid.

[mageofseven]

Hi I just recently discovered your blog and I’m in love with your writing! I have a little request if you don’t mind. The brothers (and undateables I’d you want to) finding MC bruised and beaten and later discovering they got into a fight with another demon. Thank you in advance if you decide to write this!

Awww thank you so much! I might end up doing the Undateables in another post, but I'll just stick to the Brothers for this one.

And thanks for requesting 😊

TWs: violence, vague s*xual assault

Spoiler warning: 1st year spoilers in Lucifer's and vaguely in Belphie's section

~

Lucifer:

Was checking out the area under Diavolo's orders.

Apparently there have been some people sneaking around in the old Colosseum and normal methods to keep other demons away from the historical landmark have been futile.

That and word has made it's way that some criminals have been using the place to secretly make dealings

So when he got there, he had expected to find some such people lurking around

Instead he found MC on the ground in the center, bruised and bleeding with their arm bent in a very concerning way.

He rushed up to them, calling their name and checking them for signs of life.

Honestly, the man was having major flashbacks to the day he lost his sister.

This was exactly where Lilith fell and Lucifer had to watch his sister, all broken and in pain until Diavolo came and he had to make the deal that changed everything

The deal that eventually led to MC's existence

Yet here they were now, in exactly the same place and state and the demon couldn't help but break down for a minute with panic he tried so hard to conceal.

The human let out a groan and the man could only sigh in relief.

"MC, oh thank the Devil..."

"Luce...?"

"You'll be alright." He promised. "I'll take you over to have Simeon heal you."

Despite the internal panic and flashbacks of such a traumatic event, he still handled the situation well.

Once MC was all healed up, he asked them what happened.

Apparently, they found a note that someone had stuffed in their school bag, asking for them to meet at the Colosseum.

They thought it was weird, but curiosity had gotten the better of them so they went and were attacked while exploring the ancient building.

The demon had meant to kill her, but sensed Lucifer approaching so they dropped the human and ran for it.

Ends up getting as much info from them about the attacker as he can.

Even if MC doesn't want the demon to die for what they did, they get no say in the matter.

Because of their status as exchange student, this attack is a political issue and the consequences Lord Diavolo warned his people about originally must be put into play.

Politics aside though, Lucifer would never let any being who hurt MC get away with it.

Becomes a lot stricter with what they can and cannot do

Like, they're not even allowed to go for a walk around the block without either him or his brothers accompanying them.

Even changes up their class schedule to make sure they have at least one of his brothers with them per class and they even have to walk MC to their next one.

Any arguments about this from MC or the brothers fall on deaf ears.

He will never let anyone lay a hand on them again.

Mammon:

School day had ended and he was on his way to pick MC up from their class.

Since Lucifer decided the day they came that he was responsible for their safety, he always had to do stuff like this.

He was late today though since his teacher held him back after class.

Blah blah F on the test, blahh blah summer school, blaah blahh blaaaah. Whatever man; he wasn't listening

And because of them, he was late. So much so that when he arrived at the human's classroom, they weren't there.

Lowkey panicked.

Shit. Shit shit shit, where'd they go???

Practically runs in the halls trying to find them

Knows Lucifer will have his head for this if he can't track 'em down.

Ends up hearing some kind of ruckus in the courtyard

And finds a big group of students forming a circle and chanting "Fight!"

"Oh yell!" Is momentarily distracted from his problem and joins the group. "Fight! Fight! Fight--."

Oh shit. That's his human in the circle!

Mammon's brain just started buffering as he watched MC dodge and weave, even getting some good hits in. The second brother was actually pretty impressed.

The lower demon in the fight eventually lost his footing and fell to the ground, giving an opening for MC to give a big kick between his legs and the demon let out a shrill scream. His green skin started smoking and changed to grey as it hardened and suddenly seemed more like stone than a person.

The circle of students started cheering and Mammon's jaw practically hit the floor.

Holy shit, the human did it!

MC fell the ground, panting heavily and bruised from head to toe.

Mammon finally rushed up to them.

"Damn, MC! You're gonna give me a heart attack!"

All of a sudden, some students started running and others just quickly jumped back, revealing Lucifer and Diavolo.

....yep, he's dead.

The two older demons started asking MC questions as they caught their breath and Mammon tried to sneak away.

Lucifer grabbed his brother by his jacket, but otherwise paid him no mind as MC told their tale.

Apparently this demon that sits behind them in their Devildom History class had been giving them crap for a while; calling them names and pushing them around. Today they even started touching them in places that made them wanna break the demon's hand.

MC snapped and told them such. The demon only grinned. Honestly, he was probably waiting for them to say that.

From there, he dragged them out by their hair and the rest is rather obvious.

Diavolo had some of his men carry the demon away. Apparently, the stone-like skin is defense mechanism, essentially the equivalent of a turtle hiding in their shells for that sub-race of demon.

The prince assured MC that the demon will be dealt with and tasked Lucifer with getting them healed up.

Mammon was hung upside down from the roof for a few hours for letting this happen, but MC was patched up and okay in the end.

Leviathan:

He usually buys all of his otaku stuff off of Akuzon

But occasionally, he likes to go out and by manga at this store downtown.

It's a once in a blue moon sort of thing, but he still does it

MC felt like taking a walk so they joined him

The two explored the shop as Levi fanboyed about seemingly every other series he passed.

The otaku had already started a pile of manga he planned to buy.

He didn't even notice when MC left his side until he approached the counter to pay

Boy just assumes you bailed on him at first and sinks into self-loathing mode

Until he heard a scream from outside.

He abandoned his manga and raced out, just in time to see another demon run for it and MC leaning against the building.

Their right arm was bleeding from the holes and claw marks made into it.

The third brother started freaking out and rushed them home, even leaving his books there.

When they get back, Lucifer patches them up with a first aid kit and a little bit of a potion.

MC explains how they were shopping with Levi when all of a sudden they saw Beel outside the store waving at them

She went out to talk to him, but then suddenly, it wasn't Beel anymore.

Apparently, it was a shapeshifting demon and, since they specifically choose Beel's form to take, Lucifer assumed that they must have been watching them for a while and planning this attack. They likely chose Beel because they knew he was someone MC would let their guard around.

Levi felt like crap for letting them get hurt, but MC said it was their fault for being tricked.

Lucifer decided it was both their faults and gave them both a long lecture

Satan:

The fourth brother invited MC out for coffee

The blonde actually really likes the atmosphere of coffee shops and wanted to share it with them

The two ordered their coffee and sat at their table while talking about books. He recently read a book on artic fauna from the human world and was comparing the information he read with their own knowledge

It was a very relaxing experience like most of MC's quality with Satan.

Before the two of left, MC had to stop in the restroom.

That demon waited patiently for the human at their table, but when almost ten minutes went by, he became a bit annoyed and puzzled.

Not wanting to be rude, but also ready to leave, Satan approached the bathroom door

He paused mid knock when her heard a low growl followed by a cry from MC

Now in his demon form, the blonde kicked the door off its hinges. It wasn't locked or anything, but the man was super pissed.

Found a demon pressing MC, who had a gash in their head, against the opposite wall

'An eye for an eye' is more or less the philosophy he followed here, or rather, a head for a head.

He took the demon and slammed his head into another wall over and over again.

MC had to run up and tell him to stop after the other demon passed out.

They left the demon on the floor of the bathroom and Satan, with his arms around MC to keep them close, headed back to House of Lamentation

The human didn't want the other brothers to see them like this and worry so Satan snuck them into his room and went to get the first aid kit.

It was quiet between the two as he patched them up.

"I'm sorry for scaring you." He said as he finished with their stitches. "Seeing you hurt like that just made my blood boil. They deserved it, but you shouldn't have had to watch."

"It's okay... thank you for saving me."

The two spent the rest of the night huddled together in his room, reading and just settling down from the incident.

Asmodeus:

Shopping trip!

Asmo was a bit too enthusiastic about it, but that's part of why MC was all too willing to go

He mainly just wanted to see MC in cute outfits, but also bought a few for himself

Any self-consciousness MC might feel on her own is long gone when they spend time with him. He's always hyping them up and complimenting them and overall making them feel beautiful.

Time spent with Asmo is always a good time and well spent.

The fifth brother does actually leave their side for a bit after they found someone hot to flirt with

MC didn't mind and just let the Avatar of Lust do his thing as they continued to look through the racks.

At some point a very good looking demon approached them and started flirting with them

It became obvious that this dude was one of Asmo's demons, another demon of lust

Even with this in mind though, their attention really did make the human feel special, even if they probably said such sweet words to everyone

MC underestimated the demon, thinking that just because Asmo wasn't the aggressive sort that the demons under him wouldn't be either

Ends up following him out of the store and makes out with him against the wall of the building

They didn't understand why they were doing this, but the human's mind had been feeling foggy for a while now.

Suddenly, MC's whole body started to feel heavy and they were so dizzy that their vision was just a blur

Ends up passing out and waking up a few minutes later to Asmo crying as he stood over them and begging them to wake up

"Azzy?"

The man threw his arms around them.

Finds out that the fifth brother went looking for them when he saw that they weren't in the store anymore. He came outside just in time to see one of his underlings try to suck their soul out of their body.

As soon as they heard their superior's voice though, they dropped the human and ran.

The two went straight home and Asmo was extra clingy with them for the rest of the day.

Beelzebub:

The two of them went together to Madam Screams since they were both craving sweets.

Beel was really hungering for a cherry pit pie (though of course he planned on order other things as well) while MC was really hankering for some chocodevil cake.

The two happily got in line to pick out their treats, but MC stepped out to get a clearer view of the case with all of the treats to see if they wanted anything different instead.

Ends up getting attacked by a famished, minor demon of gluttony and slammed down on the glass case containing the sweets.

Beel jumped into gear; he changed into his demon form and threw the other demon off of them.

During the skirmish, the two ended up breaking down a wall and crushing three tables.

When the fight ended, the big guy rushed up to MC to make sure they're okay.

The human was bleeding and had a lot of glass shards embedded in their back and arms.

Though worried, the sweet boy keeps himself together and carefully takes out the bigger shards.

Rushes them home, treats forgotten.

Once home, Lucifer is the one who gets the rest of the glass out of their back and cleans up their wounds.

Beel stays by their side and lets them squeeze their hand when Luce's clean up hurts too much.

Luce gives his younger brother a lecture for all the stuff he had broken back at Madam Screams, but is surprisingly lenient with him.

The older brother didn't say it (and honestly, he should have), but he was proud of his brother for stepping up and protecting MC, but at the same time, expected nothing less from him.

Yeah, Lucifer will likely get sent the bill, but MC's safety is more important.

Belphegor:

Belphie had fallen asleep during class; no surprise there.

The rest of the students left the room when class ended, but the seventh brother continued to sleep at his desk.

MC found his sleeping face cute and didn't want to wake the demon

So instead, they hung around the classroom, waiting for the Avatar of Sloth to awake; the school day was over and the classroom wasn't going to be used for anything else so they thought there'd be no harm in hanging around.

Sadly, they were wrong.

Another student, a jerk from their Seductive Speechcraft class had waited for them to leave the classroom in order to harass them, but when they didn't come out, he came in.

Eventually had them backed up against the wall and forcing their hand up their shirt, causing the human to yelp.

He tried covering their mouth with his other hand, but MC bit them, angering the demon and leading them to putting their hands around their throat as he yelled at them.

The entire time, the minor demon never saw the Avatar of Sloth sleeping at his desk.

Big mistake.

Belphie woke up and saw the scene before him, turning into his demon form real quick.

Didn't hesitate to grab a hold of the bastard and make him let go of MC, who was now gasping for much needed air.

The seventh brother used his miasma aura to weaken the demon as he was now the one doing the choking with the lower demon.

MC covered their face and cried in their corner on the floor.

It was too similar to That Night™️ and the human was bordering on panic attack because of it.

Once the minor demon passed out, Belphie turned and saw MC crying on the floor.

He rushed up to them, but stopped once MC started screaming and begging for him to stay back.

That look in their eyes... it was the same fearful look he remembered from That Night™️

And it killed Belphie inside because he never wanted them to be scared of him ever again.

He waited for the human to calm down and, with their permission, slowly approached them.

He wanted to hug them, but was afraid that they'd just be reminded of it even more so he held back.

Surprising him, the human hugged him instead.

He held them tight for as long as they needed and started to notice the bruises forming on their neck

The two went home after that and reported the incident to Lucifer before Belphie dragged MC with him for a nap.

He chose Beel and his' room since he knew the attic would probably be too much for them right now.

Cuddled close to them and apologized for all of it. For falling asleep and leaving them defenseless. For the other demon's attack. For scarying them. Above all, that he was sorry for That Night™️

~

Masterlist

[nalu4emily]

The Unexpected Reward - Chapter 16

Summary:  Natsu and Lucy go on a job together, but what they bring home is something neither anticipated. Forced to make a life changing decision, they have to adapt quickly, but that's never easy, especially given the circumstances. As they work together on their toughest adventure yet, they find themselves drawn to one another, in ways they never realised. Nalu/cute/fluff

Rated M for a reason!

"Hey, old lady! Open up!" The slayer bellowed through the tiny keyhole, beating the same spot on the large, ornate door repeatedly with his fist. "I know you're in there; I can smell you!"

"Go away, boy! I don't like visitors!" The occupant shouted from the other side, infuriating the dragon further.

He hammered his fist harder, determined to get some answers. There was no way he was turning back, not after running all this way. He'd kick the door in if he had to.

Haru, who was tucked into his arms, didn't seem to mind the small detour, or the loud clattering and yelling. He was perfectly content playing with anything he could get his hands on, namely Natsu's clothing. The occasional "Mama" or "Dada" would escape him but he mostly babbled nonsense to himself.

"At least you're having a good time. Daddy's starting to lose his patience." Natsu muttered the last bit under his breath, grinning at the child through his chagrin. He turned back to the door, "Look, I won't take up much of your time, I just need your advice. It's about Lucy…"

The door swung open with a rush and a thud, crashing into the very tree it was nailed to, causing leaves to fall from their branches. The noise had stunned Natsu into silence as he stared at the very person he'd come to see—Porlyusica. Dressed in her usual attire, she stepped out onto the porch and glowered at the young man, broom in hand, ready to chase him away.

Opening her mouth to scold him for the disruption, she caught sight of the little one he was carrying and closed it again, her hard lines softening. Instead of beating the slayer with her broom, which was the original plan, she held something out in her palm, expecting him to take it.

Eyeing it curiously, he took it from her hand and held it to his face, inspecting it further. It was a small, glass vile with a cork stopper lid, that contained a strange yellow liquid, its consistency was thick and it reminded Natsu, somewhat, of mashed up baby food—the kind Haru loved to eat.

"It's called morning sickness. Give her a few drops of that potion and it should quell its severity." She explained.

The boy accepted her potion and put it into his pocket for safe keeping, "Thanks! Lucy'll be glad of that. Only, it's not just her sickness that I'm-"

"I know why you're here. I could tell when I saw you all the other day, I'm just surprised it's taken you both this long to come knocking. So, where is she?" Porlyusica asked, looking behind Natsu for the blonde.

"At home actually. She… kinda doesn't know I'm here… but, I can't watch her suffer like that, I need to know what to do." Natsu pleaded, hoping the healer would help him.

She sighed, unable to refuse his request, "Has it been confirmed?"

"Not really… How do you do that?" Natsu asked, his knowledge on such things were limited.

"Get Lucy to test it, she'll understand. Then once it's confirmed, come back to me, I'll need to run some checks." She said, turning to go back inside.

"Checks? What checks?" There went his plan! Lucy would have to see her after all.

"You want a healthy child, don't you?" She said, as if it were obvious.

"U-Uh…"

The fire mage didn't get a chance to think too much into that before the door was slammed shut in his face, making him along with the baby jump.

The wind picked up a little as he turned to walk away, looking down at Haru, who was starting to snuggle down against his chest. Natsu smiled again at him, trying to mask his annoyance with the old woman's abruptness, "Sorry for making you wait, Haru, I bet you're super bored?"

"Dada…" The child yawned cutely on cue, making Natsu chuckle.

"Yeah, Dada's gonna take you home." He reiterated, turning to make tracks for home.

Natsu all but crashed through the front door, nearly breaking it off its hinges. "Luce? Lucy? Are ya home?" He yelled out into the house. Out of breath and panting, having just ran all the way back.

"Lucy?" He called out again, but with no answer still, he wondered where she could be, "Hmm… Let's go find Mama; she's around here somewhere."

"Mama…" The infant muttered, before going back to sucking on the ends of Natsu's scarf.

Once reaching the top of the stairs, he heard what he suspected might be the reason for Lucy's silence. A noise that'd become all too common over the last few days. Pushing the bathroom door open, he stood in the doorway, smiling sadly at the girl hunched over the toilet bowl once again. He felt nothing but empathy for her, the feeling of being overwhelmingly sick wasn't exactly foreign to him either, so he understood her pain.

The young man crouched down behind the blonde, cringing as she wretched her guts up. "It's alright, Luce. I'm here with you now." He spoke quietly, as not to alarm her of his presence. Placing Haru down next to him, he reached a hand out to her shoulder, the warm touch spreading over her clammy skin.

With one last cough and spit into the bowl, Lucy leaned back, breathing heavily while her watery eyes streamed down her face. She sniffled and blew her nose with a tissue, wiping her mouth at the same time. She took in a large breath and shifted to the man behind her, clutching hold of his jacket while she cried into his chest.

Enveloping her with his arms and cradling her head to him, he spoke tenderly to her, "Has it eased off now?"

"I-I don't know." Her voice was hoarse; her throat sore, "Please don't leave me again."

That struck a chord with Natsu. Never had he heard Lucy ask for him, not like that. She was always way too proud and independent, but this had really taken it's toll on her, not just physically but mentally also, making her feel vulnerable and it saddened him to see her so.

"I won't, Lucy, I promise." He said lowly into her ear, placing an affectionate peck just behind her lobe.

Nuzzling her head into the crook of his neck, she sniffled again, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck, "I don't want this, Natsu. I don't care what's causing it; I just want it gone."

Really her words shouldn't have affected him like they did, yet he still felt a sharp tug on his heart. She didn't know the reason behind her vomiting; how could she? He hadn't told her. And now with her so upset, he really didn't know how he was going to do that. Where did he even start?

He'd been so ready to just blurt it out, never considering how Lucy might react to it. In fact, if memory served him, she'd most likely freak until she combusted, or worse, began to cry. This subject had to be handled sensitively and with care, but the longer he left it, the longer he had to dwell on her reaction.

"I know, Luce. Are you sure you still want to wait for Wendy? Gramps told me she won't be back for a week at least." He explained, hoping she might change her mind about seeing the old dragon woman.

"I don't care who I see, as long as they can get rid of it." She said, finally pulling back and wiping her eyes with her sleeve, "I'm just so tired! It's been so long since I've had any real sleep and the puking just won't let up. My tummy hurts, my back aches and my ribs feel like they're being squashed, I have a constant headache and food-" She placed her hand over her mouth again, feeling that overwhelming nausea return. The mention of food, any food, was enough to set her off.

"Just try and take a deep breath, Luce, think of something else."

Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath through her nose and let it slowly out through her mouth, turning her attentions to Haru, "Sorry, little man, Mama didn't mean to ignore you, although you seem pretty content sucking on that scarf."

"He's been doing that all afternoon." Natsu answered for the baby, before switching back to Lucy, "Has the feeling gone now?"

"Not yet, it never really does. It just sits there until something triggers it." She explained, trying to breathe through the queasiness.

"That sucks… Oh, that reminds me, I have something for ya!" Remembering the little gift the old woman had given him, he started rummaging through his pockets, pulling out the item he was looking for and handed it to her, "Take it, Luce, it'll help with your, uh…" Wracking his brain for whatever Porlyusica had called it, "…Sickness." Was what he settled for.

Taking it into her hands she stared at it, frowning at the gross substance which could barely be called a liquid. "Um… Are you sure this is fit for human consumption?" She asked, hesitant to put it anywhere near her mouth. "And where'd it even come from?"

"Well, you know you said you didn't want to go to Porlyusica?" He blushed a little, putting his hand behind his head and grinned sheepishly, "I kinda did for ya and she gave me that. She said to take a few drops of it."

"Hmm… If you say so." She popped the cork lid open and let a few small globs dribble out into her mouth, pulling a disgusted face as it slid down her throat and stuck out her tongue. Little Haru found it hysterical and began laughing at his mother, his whole body jiggling up and down, "Well, I'm glad you're finding this funny, because that is repulsive!"

Natsu smiled, "You did look kinda funny, Luce. But at least it'll lessen your morning sickness now." That was it!

Eyes widening, Lucy snapped her head to Natsu, her amusement gone, "Morning sickness?!"

"Yeah, that's what she called it—which is dumb! It's more like all day and night sickness." He chuckled to himself, quickly falling silent when Lucy's expression didn't change at his little joke. He didn't understand; had he said something wrong? "What's up, Luce? I thought it might help."

"You… you think I'm pregnant?" She asked, eyes wide and mouth agape, her stare never leaving him.

Shit!

So morning sickness was a pregnancy thing? He wished he'd known that sooner!

Cursing himself again, he hadn't meant for her to find out like that and what's worse—she looked utterly horrified. Dammit! What was he supposed to do now? He couldn't lie to her; he wouldn't do that. With no other alternative, he did the only thing he could and sighed, nodding his answer and cringing at the sharp inhale he heard pass her lips.

Hoping she wasn't about to blow a fuse, he approached the stunned girl carefully, taking the vile out of her slack grasp and placed it back in his pocket before entwining their fingers together. Quirking one side of his lip into a half smile, he kept quiet and allowed her to process the information she obviously was not expecting.

His eyes dropped from her shocked face to her partially exposed stomach, catching her other hand instinctively come down to cradle it protectively, like an expectant mother would and it made the adrenaline course through his body.

"Pregnant… How did I not think of that?" She muttered under her breath, truly shocked that she hadn't once considered it a possibility. All the signs were there, everything pointed to it—shouted at it in fact, yet it was Natsu who'd realised it first. The boy that once thought humans laid eggs had figured it out before her? Something seemed fishy! "How come you knew? Who've you been speaking to?" Mortified to think that the whole guild knew before she even did.

"Gray, actually." He replied, shrugging, "And Porlyusica helped, obviously."

"Gray?! What does he know about having a baby? Doesn't he usually shy away from that kind of stuff?" She was astounded to find that it was the ice mage of all people. One of the girls from the guild was understandable or even someone like Gajeel who'd experienced it, but Gray?

"You think Juvia gives him a choice? She was crazy before, but now it seems she's on a whole other level." He sniggered a little, feeling kinda sorry for Gray, but kinda not. He'd made his bed and now he'd have to lay in it.

"Oh, so Juvia's pregnant too? How sweet, she's been desperate since… well, since forever!"

Natsu hummed in agreement, his attention focused more on Lucy's calm and collected demeanour, which honestly, he hadn't expected. She seemed happy by the prospect of growing their family, and that filled him with joy.

"Baby fever all 'round, it seems." Chuckling and tapping little Haru's head, the spirit wielder met the slayers eyes, smiling brightly at him with her hand still firmly placed on her lower belly, "I guess being so sick will be worth it, if it's for a baby."

"Our baby, Luce." Wiping the few stray tears away with his thumb, Natsu grinned at her, glad to see that gorgeous smile of hers split her cheeks, "Now we just gotta test it, right? Only, I don't know how you'd do that?"

"Hmm… I do, but… Oh wait! Cana!" She yelled, scrambling to her feet and nearly tripping on the bath mat. Luckily, Natsu was there for her to grab a hold of.

"What's this got to do with Cana?" He asked, confused—nothing good could ever come of her being involved.

"Her 'gifts'." The boy tilted his head; that made even less sense! "You know… ages ago, she pranked us with the condoms and a pregnancy test?" Lucy whispered to him, not wanting to say it out loud in front of Haru.

"Oh yeah! I wondered where they all went!" His eyes lit up when the memory returned to him.

"Please don't remind me…" Happy mumbled under his breath, a look of trauma on his face.

"Oh, hey Happy! I didn't hear ya come in!" Natsu greeted, waving at the exceed hovering in the doorway.

"Why're you guys looking for those things? You mean you're actually gonna use 'em?!" Nearly passing out at the thought, but shut his mouth quickly when he noticed Lucy glaring at him.

Returning to the task at hand, the blonde continued to search through the bathroom cupboards, "I put them away in here somewhere… Aha! Found it!" She cheered, holding and waving it in her hand to show Natsu.

"Awesome!" He cheered, "Now what?"

"Yeah, uh, you're gonna have to wait outside, and I'll let you know when I'm done." Pulling out the stick from its packaging, she crossed her arms and glared at the boy still standing there.

"Wait, what's happening?" The exceed asked, completely lost on their conversation.

"Why do I gotta wait outside? Can't I stay in here while you do it?" Natsu didn't want to be locked out again, it wasn't fair! He wanted to be in on the action!

She deadpanned, "Unless you want to watch me pee on a stick?" He was clueless.

"No, thank you!" Happy was gone in a flash, back down the stairs, no longer caring what they were talking about.

"So what, Luce?" The fire mage shrugged, "I've seen ya do worse."

"Just get out, Natsu, I'll call you back in when I'm done!" Lucy huffed, shooing the idiot out of the bathroom, ignoring his protests and shutting the door behind her.

Natsu exaggerated his huff, chuckling when Haru copied him, "Looks like we gotta wait out here, little guy. Are ya hungry?" The fire mage asked, taking them both down to the kitchen to retrieve some food.

Once returning to the bathroom door, food thoroughly shoved in their pie holes, they waited. When the door finally opened, revealing the girl with the stick in her hand, Natsu could barely contain himself; he wanted to know the results.

"So, what's it say? Are ya, Luce?" He asked, feeling like a kid at Christmas. Upon setting his own eyes on the girl, his face dropped instantly as he watched fresh tears build in her eyes. "Lucy?"

She wiped her snuffling nose and handed the stick to her partner, allowing him to look at the results. "Two lines means positive; one line means negative." Was all she said, using her sleeve to rub at her irritated eyes.

Peering down at the peculiar shaped object in his hand, he knitted his brows together. On the little screen, there was but a singular line—just one. He looked back up to Lucy, confusion still etched into his expression, "Negative?"

"It means, I'm not pregnant." Disappointment flowed out of her very pores; saying it out loud only reaffirmed it; a bitter truth escaping her lips. "Back to the drawing board, I guess. I'm sorry, Natsu, I know that wasn't what you wanted to hear."

Natsu remained silent, processing it all. It was definitely not the result he had been expecting, but it didn't seem to be bothering him as much as it should've. That niggle along with everything else that lead him to that conclusion, surely hadn't been wrong? He should've felt sad, a little disappointed, maybe? Or even a tad guilty for giving Lucy false hope—but he felt none of those things.

It was true that he didn't have well of medical knowledge like Porlyusica or some other doctor. He didn't read a load of books to get his information like Lucy or even Levy, and he certainly had no experience to pull from, and yet his gut still believed there was hope.

He placed the test down and pulled Lucy to him, enveloping her in his warmth to soothe her aching heart. With her nestled into his chest, he nuzzled his head into her hair, breathing in her scent, allowing it to relax him, when an idea struck.

Unexpectedly he pulled away from the sad blonde, passed her the baby and dropped to his knees, much to her embarrassment. He hugged her close, placing his nose on her lower belly and inhaled deeply, ignoring her flustered rants about 'reading the mood'. After several awkward minutes of her whining and his determination to be proven right, he smiled and let go.

"Natsu, you can't just sniff people like that! What were you doing?! I'm not in the mood for jokes." She sighed, watching him hop to his feet.

"Lucy, I think the test is lying."

Perking her head up to meet his eyes, with brows knitted together, she spoke, "Huh? Tests don't lie, Natsu! Don't be so ridiculous! I know it's hard to hear, but we're not having a baby."

"We'll see about that!" He grinned and hoisted her up, carrying her bridal style down the stairs with Haru perched neatly in her lap, ignoring her yells to be put down.

"Right Haru, let's go get some answers! You coming, Happy?" Natsu's usual electric enthusiasm shone brightly through his grin.

"Yeah! Where are we going?" Happy asked, hovering above the slayer's head.

He winked at the Exceed, then proceeded to kick the front door open and walked out into the front garden. "You ready, Luce?" His grin turning mischievous.

"Natsu, put me down! I don't even have any shoes on! Where the heck are we going?!" She screeched into his ear, making him wince, but smile all the same.

"You don't need shoes when I'm carrying you! Hold on tight guys, we're off to see the old dragon woman in the woods. She'll be able to tell us." He said, sprinting off down the path towards their destination, with Happy flying behind.

Eventually, Lucy gave up her struggle. She wasn't going to win; she never did once he'd set his mind on something. That was usually how all of their adventures started off, him dragging her off somewhere new and exciting. Although, she couldn't say going to see the old woman was new or particularly exciting, but if Natsu thought it was the right thing to do, even if the result remained the same, then she had no choice but to tag along.

Finally nearing the tree, Natsu could see from a distance that the door was open, meaning said woman was out and about, probably collecting ingredients for her next potion.

"So you've returned." They heard the gruff voice from behind, swivelling their heads to meet Porlyusica as she walked over to them. "And you've brought the whole cavalry… Well, don't just stand there gawking, in you go!" Natsu quickly made it into the tree, not wanting to be on the receiving end of the cranky woman with a broom. "And put Lucy down, a pregnant woman is more than capable of walking, boy!"

Lucy all but jumped to her feet, mortified and embarrassed by the whole situation and turned to the healer, "That's the thing though, I'm not pregnant, but Natsu insisted on dragging us out here. We're sorry for wasting your time." The flustered blonde seemed a little too eager to leave and tried to make a break for the door; however; the fire breather's quick reflexes caught her wrist before she could reach the door handle.

"Luce, I told you already: the test was lying!" He repeated, eyes pleading with her just to wait and see what the healer might say.

She sighed; feeling a little frustrated by it all, "Tests don't lie, Natsu. I'm not pregnant and that's all there is to it. I'll just have to muddle through whatever this sickness is until it goes away."

"It came out negative, I assume?" Porlyusica intervened, focusing on the blonde huddling close to the door. "Natsu is right, tests can give false negative readings, especially if it's old or hasn't been used properly." The pink haired woman walked closer to the girl, looking her up and down. "I thought that you might be when I saw you last and I'm rarely wrong."

Lucy hadn't expected the woman to actually agree with Natsu. She hadn't thought that there could be something wrong with the test, but then again, it was from Cana and god knows where she'd got it from. She perked her head up a little and was almost reluctant to look at the dragon slayers expression, knowing the smugness of being right would be written all over his face.

"Ha! See, I knew it! There's still a chance, Lucy!" Natsu shone his vibrant, toothy grin at the blonde girl. She could see the hope in his eyes; he really wanted this; to be a father again and her heart all but melted.

"I have other, more thorough ways of testing, if you'd let me?" Porlyusica asked the celestial mage, bringing her back to the present.

Apprehensively, Lucy nodded her head and went to sit on the bed by the window to await further instructions. She was so nervous, hoping for some positive answers, that would prove the test was false. She wasn't sure her heart could take the disappointment a second time, especially if it included Natsu's this time.

"There are a few different ways I can confirm a pregnancy, blood tests and so forth, but the most efficient way is a scan of the area." She said, gathering the instruments she needed whilst awaiting Lucy's approval. "I use a lacrima and it shows an image of your womb."

"O-Okay." Lucy replied, uncertain of what she'd just agreed to.

She laid back on the bed and pulled her top up, revealing her stomach. Taking a deep breath, the celestial mage twisted her head to Natsu, who had knelt down beside her. Her nerves were rattling within her body and was looking for a little reassurance, something to take the edge off of her apprehension.

He smiled at her tenderly and reached out for her hand to hold tight, not entirely convinced it was to ease just her anxiety as opposed to his own. They were about to find out whether or not their own little creation had taken residence in Lucy's womb, and he couldn't describe what an incredibly surreal feeling that was.

Porlyusica first needed to locate where the lacrima should be placed. Using one hand, she pressed firmly just above Lucy's pelvis, then several times around the area. Still tender and overly sensitive, Lucy tried her hardest not to show the discomfort it was causing. It rippled up into her throat, making her feel sick again, only this time she had no choice but to hold it back.

The wincing and quiet gasps didn't go unnoticed by the dragon slayer. He'd been watching the healer like a hawk, making sure nothing hurt Lucy too much. He leant over, understanding how unpleasant it must be and kissed her temple, whilst running his fingers smoothly through her blonde tresses.

The lacrima was a simple looking flat, green crystal that the older woman laid onto the stellar mages bare skin and waited for the image to appear. With a few flashes of light, a picture was formed like a projection hovering just above the lacrima.

"What the heck is that?! It looks like you swallowed a ball!" Happy couldn't take his eyes off of the image.

"That's so cool! I'm totally looking at your insides, Luce!" The fire breather enthused, unable to take his eyes off of the image.

Lucy rolled her eyes at the pair; typical Natsu and Happy, "You're both such idiots…"

"When you're done bickering, I'll explain what you're looking at." Porlyusica cut in. She pointed to the big black oval shape on the projection, that Happy kindly pointed out, and looked at the pair, making sure they were paying attention. "This is the outline of your uterus, Lucy. And from what I can see, it looks perfectly normal and healthy."

"Oh okay, that's good then." She pointed to a smaller, light coloured ball at the bottom of the black oval and knitted her brows together. "So, what's that?"

Moving the lacrima crystal slightly, the healer repositioned it to get a closer look at the small ball and both mages eyes near bulged out of their sockets. Their mouths dropped open and breath hitched simultaneously as the image took on a more human shape, its arms and legs moving rapidly.

"Oh my… Is that…?" Lucy had never seen anything like it, her mouth had gone completely dry and she felt the butterflies in her tummy cause her to quiver, she was in awe.

"Look at what we did, Lucy…" Natsu murmured after a few shocked, silent moments, catching the girl's attention. His eyes were glued to the image, watching it kick out with it's tiny little developing legs and feet. "It's an active little thing…"

"It's a baby, Natsu…" The celestial mages eyes glazed over, unable to control the flood of emotions that entered her system.

For the first time, the fire breather peeled his sights away from the projection and looked to his partner. His own tears peaked at the corners, feeling so overwhelmingly happy to be able to share this with her.

"Mm… it sure is, Luce." His voice sounded airy, sleepy almost, like his body had simply relaxed. His brilliant smile beamed at the blonde, making her heart skip a beat as she turned to face him fully, the sound of their little one's heart beat filling their ears.

"Look Haru, you're gonna have a little brother or sister." Lucy said as Natsu held him up to see, pointing at the even tinier one wriggling around on the projection. "It's a little one, just like you!"

Porlyusica turned the crystal once more, allowing them to see the baby from a different angle, "As you can see, Lucy, you are pregnant and by the looks of it, I'd say you have been for about ten weeks now."

"Ten weeks?! Surely that's not right; I would have noticed long before now!" Lucy was stunned to learn she was that far along already. The symptoms had only just started and she'd menstruated within that time—hadn't she?

"Not necessarily, pregnancy doesn't follow a certain set of rules. When Juvia came to see me regarding the same thing, she'd been suffering with symptoms from around the six week mark. Levy, on the other hand, had no symptoms and she was carrying twins. Some women experience symptoms just at the beginning while others, all the way through. Some later and some sooner, and some none at all."

"Oh… I didn't know. So, what happens now?" Lucy asked, feeling a little bit of disappointment when the healer deactivated the lacrima and removed it from her belly—she could've easily watched it all day.

"Yeah, when will it be born? Is it a long wait?" Natsu butted in, moving to sit next to the girl on the bed.

"And I thought Gray was clueless… A pregnancy takes nine months or approximately forty weeks, meaning Lucy has about thirty weeks left to go."

"That long? But that's ages away!" Natsu whined, turning into a child himself.

"Yeah, why can't it be born now?" Happy joined in, wanting to meet the little one already.

"Quiet, boys, before I kick you out!" She threatened, returning her attentions to the blonde, "Look after yourself, Lucy. A stressed mother is a stressed baby, but so far everything is looking as it should." The woman returned her equipment to their places and snapped her head to the little family still sitting there, "What're you both still doing here? Get out!"

"Yes, ma'am!" Natsu and Lucy jumped to their feet at lightning speed and ran out of the door, making sure they were out of sight of the old woman before slowing to a halt.

"Ugh! Now my feet are all dirty!" Lucy groaned, lifting her bare feet up one by one to inspect them, grimacing at all of the mud now coating them. "This is your fault- Mmph!"

A pair of warm, smooth lips silenced her, pressing urgently to her mouth, his hot breath sending shivers down her spine. With him taking the lead, Lucy relaxed into it and enjoyed the feel of his mouth on hers, their tongues interloping, causing butterflies to re-enter her stomach.

Pulling apart, but barely, he stared at her angelic features and couldn't help but smile at the beautiful girl before him. Thanks to her, he was going to be a father again. A father not to just one, but two precious babies and he felt like the luckiest man in the world.

"I love you, Lucy." He grinned, the biggest, widest grin she'd ever seen, so enormous it was almost too much for his face. But it was still heart meltingly cute and to hear him say those words again was enough to turn her into a puddle. It wasn't something he said very often, but she was fine with that. It made times like this all the more special.

"I love you too, Natsu." She could see just how happy he was, his very soul glowing like the fire he wielded. "So, are you going to tell me how you knew?"

He quirked his brow, "Knew what?"

"That the test was wrong." She said, her eyes flickering between his.

"Oh… I, uh, sorta had a feeling, I guess. And I was sure I could smell something." He shrugged, about to lean in for another kiss.

"You could… smell something?" Horrified she pulled her face back; did she smell?!

"Yeah, another scent. I've been able to smell it since I came home the other day, but didn't know what it was until now." The boy explained, bringing her head back to him.

"You can smell the baby?" Lucy's eyes widened in fascination.

"Sure. It's real faint, but if I try hard enough, it's there."

"Wow! That's incredible!" She looked down at herself again and cradled her belly, right where the lacrima had been and pictured their perfect little baby safe and sound in there. "I'm so happy, Natsu."

"Me too, Lucy." Natsu chuckled and finally managed to pull her back in for a loving and tender kiss, relaying all of his own happiness to her in one fluid motion. His hand came up to rest on top of hers, caressing the soft skin of her belly, imagining just how beautiful she was going to look in the months to come, carrying his child.

But their passion was swiftly halted when a certain little fella stopped them in their tracks, placing a hand to where their lips joined and made a cute babble sound, as if he were trying to work out what they were doing. Chuckling, they both turned to Haru, who was still looking at them curiously.

"You two are just nasty!" Happy said, placing himself down on the floor. "Not only do you eat each other, but you're now doing it in front of Haru!"

"We don't eat each other, I have no idea what you're talking about!" Lucy defended, shaking her head.

"Yeah you do and other… more explicit things!" Happy shivered at the thought, "Otherwise you wouldn't be in this situation."

"What situation is that then?" Lucy asked, defiance lacing her voice.

"He means the baby, Luce, even I understood that one!" Natsu piped in.

"Really?!" She exclaimed sarcastically, "Ugh! You guys are infuriating! With any luck, this baby will be a girl, then I won't feel so outnumbered!" She huffed, crossing her arms.

"And she'll still end up like Natsu, and you know it!"

Lucy's expression deflated, her arms sinking to her sides ans sighed "You're right…"

"Anyway, with another mouth to feed, you might wanna reconsider that job, Natsu!" The exceed mentioned, not noticing the dragon slayer shoot daggers at him.

"Oh… What job is that then?" The blonde asked, curiously. She didn't remember Natsu mentioning anything about a job.

"It's nothing really, Luce." Natsu shrugged, playing it down.

"You should have seen the reward! I've never seen that many zero's in a number!" Happy chirped, only now noticing the look his friend was giving him, telling him silently to shut up.

"Natsu, what's up? How come you never said anything?" Lucy asked, placing her hand on his shoulder.

"It's not that big of a deal. Gramps gave me a request yesterday, but I turned it down, that's all." He explained, seeming a little dismissive but otherwise normal. "Why don't we get ya home? It'll be dinner time soon." Seeing the reluctance in Lucy's face to believe him, he sighed and smiled at her, not ready to have that conversation just yet.

Suddenly her feet were whipped out from under her and she and Haru found themselves in the air, with two strong arms holding them up, "Natsu!"

"What? Can't have Mama all pooped out now can we, Haru?" Natsu laughed along with the infant, grinning widely, "'Cause she's still gotta cook us dinner!" He smirked at the young woman in his arms, who's eyes snapped at to him, glaring at his handsome face.

"Hey! How come I gotta slave away in the kitchen?! I'm pregnant now, you should be making me dinner!" She retorted, huffing and turning her head to the side.

"I don't mind cooking, it's whether you mind having a kitchen or not?"

"On second thought, stay out of the kitchen, you're too much of a fire hazard. But you owe me a foot rub, after all, this is your doing!" She smirked back at him.

"Oh… I never remember you complaining, maybe I'll have to get you to jolt my memory later." He chuckled lowly back, rising to the challenge.

"That's it! You two are disgusting! I'm taking Haru and you can both find somewhere else to do your dirty stuff tonight." Happy whizzed down to snatch the giggling baby from Lucy and speedily zoomed off into the distance, leaving the other two behind.

"Hey! That's no fair! You got a head start!" Not willing to be beaten by a flying cat and a baby, Natsu hurtled himself and Lucy in the same direction, her screams of terror echoing throughout the forest.

[butwhatifyouwrite]

Molly’s Redemption Chapter 14

Masterlist is here.

cw:  pain, intimate whumper, kidnapping, attempted escape, failed escape, emesis, broken hand, very brief and vague field medicine in the context of tending to wounds, very brief physical violence.

As always if I have missed something please let me know!

Tag list; @whump-tr0pes @whatwhumpcomments @whumpsblog

If anyone would like to be added to or removed from a tag list please just let me know!

Chapter 14: Try to Run

The guard had come in at some point, although how much time had actually passed was a mystery. He had taken his time, almost gently caring for Molly’s wounds. Cleaning. Bandaging. Molly was barely conscious as he worked, hissing in breath occasionally at the sting of antiseptic or the ache of pressure on fresh wounds, then lulling back into a state just between the world of the conscious and living and the dead. Any attempt to lift her head sent a wave of dizziness over Molly that threatened to drown her alive.

The guard didn’t talk as he worked, giving Molly peace. Peace that only existed in the silence. He finished tending to Molly and untied her hands, setting a bottle of water and some food on the floor next to her before grabbing the rest of his supplies and leaving just as quietly as he had come. The door clicked closed softly and Molly is every so faintly aware of his footsteps echoing down the hall, then fading back into silence.

Slowly Molly drifts back to herself. Pain pounds down as she returns to her senses, and threatens to drag her under again. Something nags at her mind floating at the edge of her awareness. 

Finally her thoughts begin to come more clearly again and she is able to lift her head. She tries to straighten some, wincing as it pulls on the marks on her back.  Slowly she leans down and grabs the water in one hand, licking at chapped lips as she works to get the bottle open, then raises it to her lips, letting the cool water wash down her throat slowly. Slow sip after slow sip she drains the bottle, letting it drop to the floor she pauses for a brief second and then reaches for the food. 

It’s simple, just a sandwich and a granola bar but her stomach grumbles. She has no idea how long it has been since she has had something to eat and she scarfs the sandwich down quickly then does the same with the granola bar. Damn, it might have been a good idea to save some of that water. 

She sits for a time, rolling her wrists and stretching lightly, trying to find a position that does not provoke pain. A thought solidifies in her brain as it whirls through thoughts and memories. I have to get out of here. Elliot may know I’m alive but he has no clue where I am. I have to get out of here. 

Her eyes dart to the door, expecting Allegra to come marching through it at any moment as if summoned by her thoughts of escape. She sits as still as possible for a moment, listening for any sounds outside the door. Footsteps, voices, anything that might tell her Allegra is back. All she hears is her own heart beating in the silence of the room. Molly reaches down slowly to begin working on the knots still tying her to the chair. She winces again, each movement sends pain sparking through her body like fireworks in a Fourth of July sky. Suck it up. You have to get out of here. 

Molly’s eyes dart back and forth from her fingers which are frantically scrabbling at the expertly tied knots to the door, praying to a god she stopped believing in years ago that no one comes through the door. One rope falls loose and she shifts to work on the next one, groaning as she slowly stretches a knee that has been bent for hours.  Another few moments in which she hardly dares to breathe and the rope around her other leg falls free. 

She stretches that leg as well before trusting her legs to hold her. Slowly she pushes herself to a standing position. The room spins around her and she grabs the back of the chair to steady herself. Pulling in deep breaths and letting them out slowly, only too aware of each second ticking by. With each breath she is seconds closer to Allegra coming back and discovering her. She pushes another slow breath out between pursed lips, willing herself to steady. Willing the room to stop spinning. I have to get out of here. I have to. Finally the room comes back into focus. Nausea hits and she doubles over the chair, vomiting up her recent meal. Dammit I really should have saved some of that water.

Molly stays there for a moment, letting the nausea pass. When it finally does she straightens up slowly, her nose curling at the smell and sour taste in her mouth. She takes small hesitant steps towards the door, trying to make her footsteps as quiet as possible and willing the world around her to stay still. Finally, she reaches the door, grabbing quietly for the handle. She tries the door, turning the handle slowly and lets out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding when the door handle turns freely and quietly in her hand. The thought that had been floating at the edges of her mind earlier comes back to her now. He didn’t lock the door.

She pulls the door open the tiniest amount, then pauses to listen, peering through the tiny crack in the door. Precious seconds tick by and her heart speeds up in her chest. There is no one outside the door and she can’t hear anyone beyond that. She pushes the door open slowly until it is open just enough for her to slip out. Once she is in the hall she closes the door as quietly as possible and looks around. She is standing in a hallway lit by fluorescent lights with a door on either end. She pauses for a moment. Which way? Which way? Which way? I have to get out of here. Her thoughts chase each other, tumbling clumsily in her brain, making decisions difficult.

Molly makes a decision and heads towards the door on the right. Moving hurts and any movement that is even slightly too fast makes the world start to spin again. Words pound through her foggy brain like a chant, or a chorus. I have to get out of here.

Cautiously she makes her way to the door and opens it. The hinges squeak slightly and she winces at the sound, nearly dropping the door. She slides through and finds herself in a large open room. It may once have been a large warehouse. Now, it’s cold and empty with no where to hide. She shrinks back agains the door as much as she can, and looks around taking in her surroundings. On the opposite side of the large empty room is a door. Above it, and barely visible is a long burnt out exit sign. A rush of emotion floods through her and for the first time she lets herself hope. I’m gonna get out of here. Molly glances around one more time, making sure her surrounding are clear. She takes a deep breath, and begins to make her way towards the door that promises her freedom.

Fifty feet… then thirty… then twenty… then ten. She swears she can see sunlight under the door, eyes focused on her target. I’m gonna get out of here.

She doesn’t even have time to process the sound of approaching footsteps behind her before she feels a cold hand grab her shoulder and she is spun around roughly. A hand connects with her face, whipping her head sideways and knocking her off balance. Another blow sends her sprawling on her back. She reaches a hand out to steady herself, to try and push herself back to her feet. A high heeled boot comes down hard on her hand and she cries out. Her cry is cut off by a hand in her hair and a hand around her throat.

“Now darling, where exactly do you think you’re going?” Allegra croons, eye shards of ice peering down between long lashes. “You should know better than to try to run.”

[kate-apologist]

I'm sorry this is so angsty but I saw them and had to. Maybe Yaz saying 7.    “I don’t ever want to live without you” to the Doc and comforting her all 5.    “They can’t hurt you anymore”

am i jumping onto the post prison fic bandwagon whenever i’m able to? yeah, yeah i am

Yaz doesn't notice at first when the nightmares start. To be fair to her, she's sleep deprived, often falling asleep at the console of the still parked TARDIS or on the couch in her family's flat (she'd given the Doctor her room the first time she stumbled into the Khan household at just after midnight, soaked through from the rain, eyes haunted) and the Doctor stays up later than her. Yaz hasn't seen her go to sleep once in the whole time that she's been back on Earth, back from prison. 

Yaz doesn't even know if she does sleep. 

But she notices one night after getting up for a glass of water. It's quiet at first, and Yaz almost mistakes it for just the flat being a little loud in the night. They aren't immune to a few creaks here and there. But the sound comes again and it's clearly coming from her room (currently the Doctor's room) so Yaz listens, properly listens. She tunes out the hum of the refrigerator and the ticking of the clock in the corner and she hears the sound again, a bit louder than before. Yaz sets the glass on the counter and moved towards her room.

When she stands outside the door, Yaz can hear more sounds coming from inside and she shoulders the door open, wincing as the hinges creak. There, with the covers twisted about her stomach, face pinched in obvious distress, is the Doctor, making quiet noises as she sleeps. It's the least peaceful scene Yaz has seen the Doctor in, at least for a little while. She seems to have shaken most of the effects of prison off (though Yaz has caught her, when that faraway look enters her and she looks so haunted that Yaz has to wonder if she's ever going to come back) with only the occasional moment. A flinch here, a startled yelp there, small things that build up but Yaz doesn't want to assume. She never wants to assume when it comes to these things.

The Doctor is clearly distressed now, and she's getting louder as the seconds pass and Yaz doesn't want to touch her while she's so obviously distressed but she has to think about the other people in the flat trying to sleep. 

"Doctor," Yaz says and it's little more than a whisper. The Doctor doesn't give much of a reply, she just shifts a bit and Yaz grimaces. She hates the Doctor has to go through this, hates that she wasn't there for the Doctor when she needed her the most. "Doctor, wake up." It's a bit louder now and the Doctor gives a whimper and Yaz sits down at the edge of the bed, calling the Doctor's name one more time. "Doctor, it's Yaz. You're alright, you're having a nightmare."

The Doctor lurches upward with a high pitched gasp, gaze flitting around the room as sweat clings to her forehead. She's shaking, trembling like a leaf and Yaz reaches for her almost on instinct at this point. This is one of the few times the Doctor has allowed her to offer a sliver of comfort, melting against the gentle hand on her back until she falls against Yaz's side. The Doctor is still shaking and Yaz does her best to not let herself be moved by it too much, not wanting to crowd the Doctor while she's only trying to help but eventually the Doctor is just resting against her side.

Her breathing is unsteady and Yaz tugs her a bit closer, making sure to breathe deeply herself so the Doctor can match her. Yaz doesn't look at her, doesn't want to see the pain in the Doctor's eyes because she has to be strong here. She has to be strong for the Doctor and if she sees that pain she won't be able to be what the Doctor needs her to be. 

"Yaz?" the Doctor asks a few moments later, her voice rough.

"Yeah, Doctor, what is it?" Yaz asks, reaching up to run a hand through her hair. She can still recall when it felt so dirty, stiff with lack of being washed and she's glad the Doctor has taken up regular showers, even if she has a tendency to just sit under the spray and stare out at nothing. 

"Can I have some custard creams?" She's so hopeful and Yaz really shouldn't give in to her request because it's so early in the morning but she's torn. The Doctor actively wanting to eat, even just custard creams, is more than Yaz expected and she gets to her feet a few seconds later, moving towards the kitchen. 

Yaz doesn't take very long, and whatever time she takes she regrets spending it away from the Doctor. She's always vulnerable after a nightmare, no matter how strong she tries to appear to be. Scooping a pile of custard creams onto a plate (Yaz has taken to eating them, though she doesn't inhale as many as the Doctor seems to) Yaz strolls back across the flat, trying to be as quiet as she can to keep from disturbing the rest of the household. 

The moment she walks through the door, the Doctor looks up, dropping her hands from her face. The smile that she musters is weak and Yaz decides to say nothing about it. She doesn't want to hurt her feelings, doesn't want to point out the numerous dents in the Doctor's armor. She's already so worn down, Yaz doesn't want to lend a hand to that. 

"Brought you the custard creams," She says, like it isn't already obvious. Yaz can't seem to do anything right around the Doctor, can't say the right things, can't offer the comfort the Doctor so clearly needs but refuses to ask for. 

The Doctor takes the plate from her hand almost reverently and pats the side of the bad next to hers, inviting Yaz to sit. The silence is heavy in the air and Yaz doesn't say much even as the Doctor continues rubbing her fingers over the duvet, staring at nothing. The plate lays forgotten in her lap, a custard cream in her other hand. She hasn't taken a bite out of it.

"Yaz..." the Doctor says, and her voice is faint. Yaz is startled, briefly by it before she looks at the Doctor and tries to meet her gaze. The Doctor still won't look at her. "How long...how long were you looking for me?"

The Doctor had seen the TARDIS, the one she sent home with the Fam before she'd gone to prison, the one that Yaz had spent so much time in, gathering up information, trying to find where the Doctor was. The notes she'd made littered the place, they still did, really. The Doctor, upon her return, had spent long minutes staring at them, taking in the sight before turning to Yaz with a broken expression. They hadn't spoken about it, they never spoke about anything. 

"Ten months," Yaz says. "Felt like years though. Took some time away from work. You," she tries to playfully nudge her shoulder against the Doctor's, but the movement falls completely flat. "You made it a little difficult to find you. Thought I were gonna have to go through the whole universe. Were even learning to fly the TARDIS, though a little terribly mind."

"You're not a Ti-one of my people," the Doctor cuts herself off just a bit through and Yaz wants to shake her shoulders and scream. It's never straight answers with her. Yaz thought that perhaps prison changed a bit of her, any bit but the secrecy is still the same. Her nightmares are just louder now. 

The silence is thick and the Doctor finally takes a bite of her custard cream, as if realizing there's a plate of them sitting right there on her lap. 

"I don't want to live without you again," Yaz blurts out before she can stop herself. She acts like it's the late night or early morning sluggishness that fills her brain. It's easier to blame it on that. "I don't ever want to live without you."

"Oh Yaz." There's so much age in her voice and she looks so exhausted and Yaz realizes too late what kind of a confession it is to drop on the Doctor. "They'll never take me again. They'll never hurt you, hurt me, not anymore..." she trails off and she's shaking again and Yaz wraps her arm about the Doctor's shoulders, the only form of comfort she can offer. The Doctor leans into her and their breathing syncs and for a moment, Yaz can taste peace.

It's enough.

[maine-writes]

Vonvon's Time Vacation: Part III, Winter Wonderland

Every travel brochure that features a beautiful hotel in the midst of an idyllic alpine paradise always like to emphasize the majesty of the great outdoors, the serenity of being far away from the chaos of metropolis, but all without leaving behind the conveniences and modernizations of today. Imagine taking a vacation in a tropical paradise, ostensibly to live the "island way", but with high-speed internet, cable, and a nearby familiar fast-food joint or coffee shop.

But always seem to fail to mention very obvious limitations and risks.

Such as weather.

Or the ever so rare "Trapped in a the middle of nowhere with a madman" situation that only really applies to hotels in the middle of nowhere and Airbnb.

Vonvon hurriedly scurried down a twisting hallway, flanked by storage cages made of slats of wood, locked by simply latches and a padlock. Their shoes squeaked on the cold concrete floors as they clumsily ran, occasionally glancing back down toward the other end of the hall. The grey lights of the hall flickered and buzzed, some dying entirely.

"Oh, Vonvoooonnn..." hissed a low, raspy voice. "Where are youuu?"

The child ducked around a corner, their back against the wood, clasping their mouth shut with their hand as they struggled to catch their breath. In their eyes, the dim glimmer of absolute fear.

As they peeked around the corner, peering down the hall, they saw a form slither out from the edge of the far turn.

It was a googly-eyed sock puppet, a demented smile scribbled on with red marker.

"I see you Vonnie," said the puppet, "You can't hide from me. I can hear your breath. I can smell your fear."

Vonvon scrambled to get away, running deeper into the darkest bowels of the basement. But how did they end up in this situation? How did a crazed killer get into the hotel?

It was around three in the afternoon, everyone had returned to a banquet room adjacent to the ballroom, where a staff of servers worked tirelessly to deliver their meals to them. Tonight, they were served a plate of beef bourguignon on top of garlic mashed potatoes. For dessert, they had an eggy flan with a topping of sweet, sticky caramel. Interestingly, the staff were rather short, a squat team of mostly identical looking oddballs who all seemed to be a bit dim. One notable server wore an eyepatch.

Vonvon looked around at all the empty tables, realizing that their party were the only guests in that evening. A troubling revelation when vacation.

They were just about halfway through their dessert when the lights suddenly died, only the dim afternoon light from the windows illuminating the room.

"I'm sorry, ladies and gentlemen." Said the tall front desk agent as she walked through the door. "It seems the storm has knocked out our electricity. We have a backup generator on standby, but until main power is back online, we will have to limit electrical use."

With a groan, Vonvon's party dragged their feet back to their rooms.

Vonvon flipped through the channels in their room's television set, all with the same program: static.

"Von, they said we need to limit electric use." Connie said, turning off the TV. "I'd rather not lose power to the lights early. Or heat."

"Yeah, I guess you're right." Vonvon groaned. "Some vacation this is turning out to be."

"I'm sure they'll get the power back on soon."

Then there was a knock at the door. It was Sour Cream, peeking his head in.

"Hey, you guys seen my brother?"

Another instance of Onion wandering off to stave off the boredom. Another problem to add onto the load. To help in the search, Buck, Sadie, Jenny, and Lars joined him, and now to see if either Connie or Vonvon were up for it.

"We'll stay with Steven." Connie said, "Where is he?"

"He's in his room." Jenny replied, "I think he's a bit down."

"Ok, good luck guys."

As the group went down the hall, ready for the arduous task of searching for Onion, Connie and Vonvon gathered some blankets and pillows to take to Steven's room.

"You really think a pillow fort will cheer him up?" Vonvon inquired, a stack of pillows in hand.

"Are you kidding?" Connie laughed, "He'll love it!"

"Anything to get his mind off of it, huh?"

But as Connie raised her hand to knock, the door slowly creaked open, revealing a darkness within, illuminated by the flickering light of the TV set.

"Steven?" Connie said, finding no sign of him anywhere. "We brought pillows and blankets, thought we'd make a fort."

But the only thing in the room was a sock puppet, googly-eyes glued on, lying in front of the TV.

"Ok, this is weird." Vonvon said.

"Yeah, you stay here. I'll go find him."

Vonvon was now alone in a cold, dark room, accompanied only by a sock puppet. Nothing good can come of this.

Creeped out by the noise of the static, they turned off the TV and reached for the light switch. But when the lights flipped on, they were not greeted by a warm glow, but by sinister, blood-red light. They looked around the room in horror as they saw the mad rabblings of a crazed psychopath scribbed on the walls, revealed by the crimson glow.

No play makes a boy bored.

No play makes a boy bored.

No play makes a boy bored.

Written again and again and again and again and again and again on every surface, on the mirror, on the painting, on the mattress, and spiraling on the ceiling.

As Vonvon recoiled in horror, they looked at the TV, realizing that the sock puppet that was once there, was there no longer.

"Vonvon..." hissed a voice in the walls. "Want to play a game?"

And that's how they ended up in the basement, running for their life.

"Ok, obviously Dad is stressed out." Vonvon said to themself, "Maybe he just needs a hug."

"Vonnie..." said the sinister sock. "I plan to get under your skin..."

"No hug, no hug!"

Then they came upon a fork in the hall, one leading to darkness, the other to a doorway. They chose to risk it with the door.

As they slammed the door behind them, they turned to find themself trapped in the laundry room. On the far wall, there were large machines, baskets of linen and uniforms, and a cart of cleaning supplies. Above it were a series of windows, but too small for them to crawl through.

"Vonnieeeeee..."

Vonvon pressed their ear against the wooden door, listening as heavy footsteps drifted away. A sigh of relief escaped their lungs.

Then came a loud bang against the door, shaking its hinges, and Vonvon's sigh turned into a scream.

Then came another, and another, with each strike, the child screamed in fear.

"This door's pretty solid." panted the madman, gasping for air.

"I think it's oak." Vonvon sobbed.

"Then I guess I'll just have to huff and puff on this one then."

Vonvon could hear their pursuer take a step back, winding up for a mighty swing. They withdrew from the door as an axehead chopped through the wood, screaming in terror.

Peering in through the door was the puppet, an axe beside it.

"HERE'S COOKY!"

The child backed up toward the washing machines, pulling down tables and throwing baskets of clothes and fabrics on the floor in a vain attempt to make some sort of barrier or obstruction.

They then looked up at the windows, seeing the Garnet lookalike talking on a cellphone.

"Garnet!" Vonvon screamed, "Help me! Help me!"

But all she did, seeing the child waving their arms in distress, was wave back with a smile and return to her call.

Then Vonvon remembered that they had a cellphone.

"Right, stupid scared brain!"

They quickly went through their contacts, finding Pearl's cellphone number and called.

"Pearl's phone, Garnet speaking." responded a familiar voice.

"Garnet!" Vonvon screamed, "Get down here! Your disguises suck and Dad's gone berserk! Why'd you build a whole fountain with badly disguised statues?!"

"We're in the Caribbean." Garnet stated to Vonvon's disbelief. "We thought since you guys are on vacation, we should go on one too. Amethyst rode a shark."

Vonvon looked up through the window, watching the Garnet lookalike finish up her call before walking off.

"Tell Steven we said hi." Said Garnet, Lapis and Peridot laughing loudly in the background. "And don't forget, little kids shouldn't play in laundry rooms. There are exactly 47 ways to die in those rooms."

"Yeah, and I'm in Number 47!" Vonvon yelled into the phone, "Killed by crazed Dad!"

"Vonvon, don't be silly." Garnet said. "47 is Killed by Angry Ghost. Crazed Dad is number 4."

Then she hung up.

Out of options and out of luck, Vonvon threw their phone aside, brandishing a nearby brush as a weapon.

"Back off!" Vonvon yelled, failing to be intimidating, "I have a deadly brush!"

With one final push, the door came crashing down, splintering as it hit the concrete floor. Standing in the doorway was Vonvon's relentless pursuer; Onion, the sock puppet in hand.

"ONION!!!"

"He's such a handful sometimes, isn't he?" Jenny said. "Wandering off like that."

"Sour Cream thought he went to the maze out there and got lost." Buck added, pointing at a shivering Sour Cream wrapped in bundles of blankets, his feet soaking in a bucket of warm water. "Took hours for us to find him."

"Why didn't you come to the pool?" Steven asked, "One of the staff came by after you left and said they were going to keep it heated for us if we wanted to use it."

"Hey, I want to go to the pool." Sadie said.

"That sounds like a fun time." Lars agreed, "I think we can get bathing suits through my head if Lion's with the Gems."

Vonvon was tired. They sipped quietly at a juicebox, reflecting on the traumatic events that transpired. To think, this is what Onion was like as a child. The mild mannered young man they know in the future is the exact opposite of this strange boy.

"So Vonvon," Connie began, "What do you want to do now?"

The child thought about it, not for long though. There was one thing on their mind since the time they thought they were going to die.

"Think the kitchen can make me a burger?"

@artsycooky13

[baldwinboy5choices]

The Family Night Out (M! Robin Flores x MC)

Someone who absolutely never, ever writes fics (me) is so in love with Robin that they were actually compelled to write Choices fic for the very first time.

Book and Pairing: The Nanny Affair, M!Robin Flores x MC (Jett Hawthorne)

Words: 2.7k

Rating: I’m so new to writing fics I don’t even know what kind of rating system to use, but this is extremely tame, and, much like a PG-13 movie, contains exactly one very judiciously-placed F-bomb. 

Summary: I sort of started with “collision course,” which is the name of one of the Ice Age movies, and then worked my way backwards. So, in a manner of speaking, you could say that this is Based on the Comedy of Ray Romano. (Not really. The first part’s true, though.) No, it’s really more about the start of Robin and Jett’s relationship, with a little bit of inspiration from Sam saying in a diamond scene, “You could do so much better than him.” (me) (also me)

Thank you so much @semiautomaticheart for proofreading, and thank you @yaushie & @brightpinkpeppercorn for first pass feedback! You guys are all really awesome and I appreciate you all so much. 

Another day, another experiment for Mickey and Mason. Today’s flavor was taking photographs of deep space, courtesy of the telescope they remembered they got last Christmas, and their father’s old phone that they were allowed to occasionally play games on. 

“Do you think that counts as… deep space?” Mickey wondered, as he and his brother peered at the phone screen. 

“Well, yeah! And we’re just starting out,” Mason insisted. “We’ll get better!” 

“Yeah! Print it out!” Mickey hollered. “Our very first picture of outer space!”

Jett heard the bell of the elevator as she watched the boys signing the printout in colored pencil and running to the refrigerator with it. “Hold on, boys. I think I hear your father,” she said. 

Jett never met Sam at the door when he arrived home, with the exception of the time she had to distract him so Mason and Mickey could finish the birthday dinner for him. Today, however, she had a friendly warning for him. It just so happened that when she stepped out into the hallway, she was greeted by not only Sam, but also Sofia and Robin. 

Jett’s breath caught in her throat as she and Robin met eyes for a brief moment. The sight of him reminded her that the same night of Sam’s birthday dinner was also the night that brought Robin into her life, right here in that hallway. She quickly composed herself with a neutral demeanor. Addressing all three, she instructed, “Hey, guys. When you get inside, there’ll be a really blurry piece of paper on the fridge. Pretend you love it.” 

For once, Sam, Sofia, and Robin were united, sharing the same puzzled look directed at Jett, but before anyone could voice an actual question, Mickey and Mason were bursting out of the apartment door. 

“Mort’s! Mort’s!” the boys were chanting. 

“That’s right, boys,” Sam said brightly. He then turned to Jett and said, “Jett, we were hoping you could join us.” 

“But… it was going to be a night off,” Jett replied. Sam generally preferred dinners at home, but occasionally, he would take the boys out for some family time, and Jett would be off those nights. 

“I insist - dinner’s on me,” Sam said firmly, as everyone poured into the apartment and began raving over the hazy photo of a blob on the refrigerator. 

“M&M graciously donated one of the unused save files on their video game to me. And I thought tonight was supposed to be family night,” Jett said lamely. “Wouldn’t I be intruding?” 

“No, because someone invited you,” Sam said, tossing his head in Robin’s direction. “And even if he hadn’t, you’re welcome to join us on the family night out.”

“Oh… you’re going, too?” Jett said, catching Robin’s eye once again. This news changed things. 

Robin gave her a casual grin. “I never pass up Trader Mort’s.” 

Sofia chimed in, “It’s literally the only place all of us agree on. Even the kids, and Robin with his crude taste. That in and of itself should be considered a miracle.” 

Jett knew of Trader Mort’s, a no-expense-spared tiki bar and restaurant that liked to tout itself as more of an “experience” than a mere dining establishment. She herself had never gone, but she’d heard others sing its praises. The founder, James Mortemer, was supposedly descended from some legendary pirate captain and the restaurant apparently hinged heavily on this gimmick.

“Has something for everyone,” Sam put in. “There’s a cool volcano show for the kids, Sofia and I both adore their menu…”

“Separate bar area where Robin can always find a girl to take home,” Sofia finished. 

Jett studiously ignored this comment as she led the boys away to find their coats. 

Moments later, Jett was finishing getting ready herself, and wandered back into the boys’ room. Robin then appeared at the boys’ bedroom door. “Kiddos, you want to go tell your dad you’re ready?” Robin said, knocking on the door frame. 

“Yep!” they cried in unison, running off. 

“You’re coming with me in my car, right?” Robin asked. 

Jett shot back his question with another question. “Because you want me to, or because it’ll piss off Sam?” 

“Nah, that’s boring now. Because I want you to,” Robin said with a grin. 

Jett had to smile. “Okay, you got me, then.” 

They spent the drive in comfortable conversation, and Jett’s heart fluttered when they left the car and approached the restaurant entrance, because of who was accompanying her. 

“Shall we, beautiful?” Robin said lightly, offering Jett his elbow to hold as they walked through the door. 

At dinner, things were generally civil, even as Robin insisted on sitting next to Jett and keeping close to her. The adults made polite small talk, and Mason and Mickey, as children were wont to do, had already long forgotten about “Suck-fia” and had moved on to other things. 

As the meal wound down, Robin nudged Jett. “You know, when those two take the kiddos to watch the volcano show, I bet we could sneak a little time to ourselves,” Robin said in a low voice into Jett’s ear. 

Though Sofia couldn’t hear the words, it was impossible to miss that Robin had leaned in very close to Jett to whisper to her. 

“Jett, tell me you’re not falling for this,” Sofia said with a slight roll of her eyes. “And Robin. Really? Just because you’re in a dating slump doesn’t mean you should be going after her.” 

“What, just going to do a drive-by on me like that? I have a great personality,” Jett said with a hollow laugh in between bites of her dinner. 

Robin glared, all traces of his earlier good mood gone from his face. “There’s nothing wrong with Jett.” Then, softening his expression, he turned back to Jett and asked, “Split one of these desserts with me?” 

Sofia sighed with exasperation and forged ahead. “I meant, you shouldn’t be leading her on, and then subsequently breaking her heart like you so frequently do, and leaving us to deal with the mess. We’ve never had to deal with your dating disasters before; why bring us into this now?” 

“Yes. For goodness’ sake, she’s an integral part of this family, now,” Sam piped up. “You can’t do that to her.” 

Sam had been admonishing Jett to steer clear of Robin ever since the three of them had met. It felt to her as though, even if Sam couldn’t have her himself, he still wanted to be the one that she longed for. 

But could it be that it wasn’t jealousy on Sam’s part, but simply the truth? Jett also remembered back to when she first met Sofia - she, too, had warned Jett that Robin was “a player.” That was the word she had used. 

The entire conversation made Jett let out an audible chuckle. It was the type of nervous laugh that one lets out when they know they’re in deep trouble, and so, one can’t help but simply let out a joyless laugh with a hint of melancholic despair. 

Sam glowered, and then turned towards Robin. “Don’t make her pay for it just because you’re annoyed you can’t get anyone else to fall for your charms right now.” 

“That’s not true,” Robin protested. 

“Fine. Then pick up one of the other beautiful women here tonight. Now. I bet you can’t do it.” 

Sofia raised her eyebrows in slight interest and amusement. She felt that Sam was more bewildered than upset or hurt by the situation. Things had always been handed to him, and, with the tragic exception of the loss of his wife, he’d had little experience in dealing with anything less than Easy Street. Sure, Jett had started the nanny position with an infatuation for Sam, but that was before she had gotten to know everyone better. Jett now wanting Robin instead of him appeared to have short-circuited Sam’s brain. 

“Watch me,” assured Robin belligerently, standing up to begin the search for his quarry. 

Sam couldn’t hold it in any longer. With Robin now gone from their table, he demanded, “Jett, what do you see in that guy?” 

An eight-hour explanation formed in Jett’s mind. “Nothing,” she ultimately said. 

Sam let out another sigh, and pulled out his phone. “Look,” he said. “This was actually an old business partner of Robin’s,” Sam said, scrolling through the phone. He handed the phone over to Jett. It was a multi-part Pictagram post. Swiping through revealed a rant written by an angered woman about how she’d felt “led on” by Robin only to find that their relationship was not what she thought it was. 

Jett skimmed the Pictagram post as Sofia and Sam watched Robin continue to walk around all the various sections of Trader Mort’s - the bar, the dining area, the fire pit, the merchandise booth. He was observing all of the other patrons of the restaurant as carefully as if he were shopping for a house or a car. 

“This was an old girlfriend,” Sam said, navigating to a different Pictagram post showing a scowling woman, followed by a lengthy diatribe of a caption talking about how truly wronged she’d been during their breakup. 

Sam took his phone back, swiped around, and gave it to Jett again, showing another Pictagram post with a different woman. “Girlfriend,” he said. 

“Girlfriend.” Another post, equal amounts of rage and spite in the caption. 

“Aaaaand, girlfriend.” Another post. More rage.

“Sam, you seem like you’re just looking out for me, which is… nice, but totally unnecessary,” Jett ventured cautiously, before a touch of anger seeped into her voice. “And, I mean, did you just already have these pictures ready, or something, just to show me?! All prepared to disparage him like this? You pulled these all out awfully fast.”

“Oh, no, I just searched by the hashtag. It was really easy to find,” Sam said with pure innocence. He showed the last photo again to Jett. Oh. There it was: #fuckrobinflores 

“Oh.” 

“To be perfectly fair, sometimes he just has one-night stands and the women aren’t all that bothered by it. You wouldn’t see those on the hashtag, though, I guess,” Sofia said with a chuckle. “But he hasn’t been getting any dates at all lately. I think that’s why he’s targeting you.” 

“I wouldn’t call it targeting,” Jett insisted. “We’re not exactly… well, you know we’re not together, but I wouldn’t say any of this is one-sided.” 

The conversation was interrupted because Sam noticed that Robin had settled at a standing table. Sam had to hand it to Robin - the girl he picked was absolutely stunning, a tall, slim brunette with a beautiful face. 

Robin had ordered the Poseidon’s Revenge Grog, the most expensive drink that Trader Mort’s offered, which was an elaborate, fruit-topped rum drink served in a carved bowl so massive it could comfortably house several tropical fish. 

Deftly as a master painter crafts their portraits, as a maestro weaves their notes together in a beautiful melody, and as anyone of extraordinary skill in their art wields their talent, Robin demonstrated to his onlookers his effortless skill in flirting. He simply poked two straws into his monstrous Poseidon’s Revenge Grog, pointed one of them at the girl, lowered his chin an inch, and gave her a sultry smile in invitation without so much as a word.  

Sam’s eyebrows shot up into his hairline - he thought he saw the immediate future flashing before his eyes. As the beautiful brunette girl leapt for her straw, and Robin leaned forward for his, Sam saw the inevitable collision course that their respective heads were on and tensed up, bracing himself for two visits to Concussion City. He would have sworn, “There’s nothing anyone could have done.” 

Except Jett wasn’t just anyone. In a lightning-quick motion, Jett lunged for the Poseidon’s Revenge Grog too, and her hand shot out between Robin and the girl, preventing the double head injury. 

“Jett!” Robin exclaimed. 

“Oh my god! Thank you!” cried the girl. “That was almost a disaster!” 

Jett shook out her hand and winced, looking everything like a hero who’d just punched out the bad guy. “I was supposed to be off baby-sitting duty tonight,” she said through gritted teeth, though her tone was light. “The universe decided that this would not be the case.” 

After a few more rounds of “Thank you,” and “Are you okay?!” the girl introduced herself to Robin as Phaedra, and smiled at him. 

Robin mumbled a quick apology to her. “Sorry - keep the Grog, though. I’m headed back to the bar with her, for some ice.” 

“No, I get it, totally. But if you want to hang out sometime - give me your phone?” said Phaedra. 

“Oh. Sure.” Robin placed his hand on Jett’s back as Phaedra typed away, and as soon as she was done, he gave her a quick thanks. 

“See you!” said Phaedra, grabbing the tiki bowl and flouncing away back to her friends. 

Robin led Jett to the bar, where he found an empty bar stool. He cleared his throat and gave a charming smile to someone seated on the next bar stool, and asked with all the confidence of a man who could still score the phone number of a girl he’d almost concussed, “Hey, buddy. You mind?” 

“Not at all,” said the other man, moving one stool over. 

“Thanks,” Jett managed weakly, as the two of them sat side by side and Robin asked the bartender for a bag of ice. 

“What do you say you and I share a much more reasonably sized drink?” Robin asked. 

Jett laughed. “Yeah. Sure. And dessert, too, since that didn’t happen earlier.” 

They sat mostly in silence for a short while, as Jett iced her hand, and awkwardly ate with her non-dominant hand. Jett mumbled an apology as her hand brushed against Robin’s, reaching for their shared drink. They had decided on a Damnation, a mixture of light and dark rums and fruit juices served in a ceramic mug in the shape of a piranha. It was, as Robin had suggested, a much more reasonably sized concoction. 

“I’m really uncoordinated with this hand,” she joked.

In response, Robin closed his hand around her uninjured one. “Jett?” he said softly. 

“Yeah?” 

“You can trust me,” Robin said with an unusual sincerity. 

For a moment, Jett debated feigning innocence and asking, “About what?” 

She couldn’t decide what to say for several more minutes, but eventually settled on “Yeah. I want to.” 

When Robin and Jett returned to the others, they were then standing at the miniature volcano display waiting for the show to start. Sam had a triumphant look on his face. It dawned on Jett that this was a win-win situation for him: either Robin couldn’t pick anyone up and Sam would force him to admit that he only wanted Jett because he’d been in a dating slump, or, he did score some other girl’s number, and well - he would have scored the number of a girl who wasn’t Jett. It was as though Sam wanted to somehow prove that Robin couldn’t ever take her seriously. If Jett were to ask Sam, he would probably tell her that he would treat her like royalty - never mind the fact that he was engaged to someone else - while Robin would treat her like a customer at a delicatessen. “Now serving number five-oh-eight.” 

Jett could see herself understanding why Sam would think that. But Robin… Robin had asked her to trust him. 

“I hate to say I told you so…” Sam began. 

“Then don’t,” Jett snapped. 

“Well, it seems this was to be expected. All of us always have a good time when we come to Trader Mort’s,” Sofia said flippantly. “Congratulations are in order, I suppose, Robin. Enjoy your date with what’s-her-name.” 

“Mickey, Mason, look above you!” Sam interjected. 

As the boys marveled over the animatronics display descending from the ceiling - which Jett had to admit was actually pretty cool - she felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned to see Robin giving her a small smile, and holding up his phone screen for her to see. It showed the name Phaedra, followed by her phone number. Her contact name was accompanied by a bunch of heart emojis, a sort of digital age equivalent of kissing one’s lipstick to a napkin and writing “Call me!” 

Wordlessly, Robin made a bit of a show out of displaying the screen to Jett as he pressed “Delete contact.” 

He tossed the phone into his pocket. 

Lights began to flash and fog filled the room, and the Trader Mort’s crew started chanting. Jett’s hand slipped into Robin’s as the two of them watched the volcano erupt while the crowd cheered.  

[soybeantree]

pairing: johnny x reader

genre/warning: fluff, magic!au

word count: 3k

description: you hated him. his stupid face smiling. his stupid charisma that would always woo the customers - of which you had no doubt was aided by the use of magic. his stupid cousin - that you actually adored and would kill to have him even notice you, but who continuously chose johnny over you for assistance. and most of all you hated how your lungs forgot their one job whenever he was within 5 feet of you.  

a/n: from the essem: rosemary by moonlight universe. not necessary to read that first, but some things may not make complete sense.

"I'd like an iced caramel Frappuccino with low fat milk and a pump of pep. To go." The customer rattles off her order as she approaches the counter, never sparing you a greeting or even a glance. From her clean-cut bob to her khaki shorts and salmon button down, you know exactly how this conversation is going to go.

Contorting your cheeks into your best customer service smile and using your most pleasant tone, you inform her, "I'm sorry ma'am, but any drinks with magical add-ins must be consumed within the cafe."

Now, she glances at you, her wallet poised in her hand as her face falls into what you refer to as the entitled scowl. "Excuse me?"

“Any drinks with magical add-ins must be consumed within the café.” You repeat, despite the fact that you enunciated clearly the first time. To help with any possible confusion, you gesture to the bright golden script at the bottom of the menu which states the same.

The woman scoffs, and you inhale a deep, imperceptible breath. “Why?” Indignation laces the word and colors her cheeks red.

Many reasons. Most of which revolve around negligence and exploitation, but that explanation drags. Reminding yourself that you want this job and have jumped through hoops to get it, you dredge up every ounce of patience in your body. With a smile still in place, you say. “We strive to abide by the standards set forth within the Council’s Magical Charter. I would be more than happy to complete your order, but any drink with magical add-ins must be consumed on property.”

“I-“ You brace yourself for the entitled tirade, but the woman’s face melts into a bewildered smile. A glance over your shoulder reveals the reason. Johnny, your fellow barista, stands behind you, his cheeks pulled back by a swoon worthy grin. 

With a sigh, you step away from the counter and let Johnny work his magic. Quite literally. Johnny, like you, has the skill of enchantment. As a member of the Essem Family, he has had access to training and knowledge all his life. You on the other hand come from a no name family who has one grimoire passed down from generation to generation, and the two-page section on enchantment only works for curing melancholy. 

In moments, Johnny has the woman pacified with an iced caramel Frappuccino with low fat milk and no pump of pep, to go. She sends him another smile before she nearly collides with the door on her way out. After a giggle which Johnny echoes, she is gone, and you’re ready to vomit. 

"Did you add a shot of charm to your coffee this morning?" You ask as you resume your position.

Johnny flashes you a grin while raising a single smug eyebrow. "No, I'm just naturally this charming." You gag as you turn away which elicits a chuckle from him. “What, you don’t think I’m charming?”

“I think you are a talented witch.” You say as you reorganize your station. While leaning over the counter to schmooze the woman, Johnny managed to throw the entire place into disarray. You return the business cards to their holder and the pencils to their cup.

“You really think I’m using magic when I calm irritated customers?” 

A twang in his voice draws your attention back to him. Glancing over your shoulder, your stomach twists. For such a tall man, he can make himself appear so small. His shoulders hunch in as he fiddles with the ties on his apron. The posture throws his long bangs into his eyes, obscuring them from your scrutiny.

The answer to his question is “yes”, but the answer brews from a petty spite which you stoke every time Minseok, the café’s owner and the foremost expert on enchantment magic, chooses him as an assistant over you. The whole reason you strived for a position at the café was to become Minseok’s apprentice, but every day he chooses Johnny to help with his brews. While you enjoy blaming Johnny, you know the favoritism is due to the inclusiveness of the covens. After all, Johnny is Minseok’s cousin. 

“Since when do you care what I think? I thought I was just the hired help.” 

His head snaps up, the ties of his apron forgotten as he gazes into your eyes. The contact cools your spite, and it sours. Your stomach rolls at the discomfort, and you clear your throat and return to your reorganization.  

“Minseok doesn’t hire just anyone to help in the café.”

You know this. You badgered him for a job ever since Johnny told you about his cousin and his café. Minseok had been the sole employee for years after the café’s inception, hiring Johnny only when the café’s popularity grew. Eventually, the work became too much for the two of them, and rather than hire a qualified enchantment witch, Minseok had hired the girl with little-to-no skill who practically lived at the shop.

“Whatever.” You grumble as you throw another pencil into the holder. The force sends the jar spinning. It falls on its side spilling its contents across the counter. With a growl, you reach for the scattered pencils, but Johnny’s long arms reach around you. The pencils disappear into one hand as his other rights the holder before returning the contents. 

You duck out from under Johnny’s unintentional embrace, your cheeks burning. He has to be using his magic. You hold tight to this belief as you breathe to calm your racing heart. 

“Minseok likes having you here. You’re as detail oriented as he is.” Johnny nods to the front and back counters both of which have everything in their place and a place for everything. “I’m pretty certain you’re the only person in the world who understands his organizational method.”

“It’s not that hard. Ingredients are organized first by purchase date and then alphabetical. Supplies are..." You trail off as you catch sight of Johnny’s smirk out of the corner of your eye. “You really expect me not to think you’re using magic when you always seem to know exactly what to say to distract me?”

He shrugs, but his smirk only grows. “There are other reasons, I might know that.” Before you can question him further, the bell above the front door jingles. “Duty calls.” He tips his head to you before disappearing back into the brewing room. 

With a deep breath, you shove the conversation from your mind and rattle off the customary greeting as you turn to face the new customer. 

“Good morning, Y/N. How goes the grind?” You blink a moment as your brain registers that your cousin is here. She misses your confusion as she is too busy chuckling at her pun.

"It’s great. How goes your fruitless endeavor to start a school of magic?"

She scowls which brings a genuine smile to your face. "It's not fruitless. It's slow moving because covens are full of stuck up assholes who refuse to share their knowledge because of what? They're afraid it will diminish their power and their prestige. They need to get their heads out of their asses and think about how much better the world would be if we all worked together and shared our knowledge." 

This tirade is as familiar as the Entitled tirade. "And yet, you always get coffee at an Essem café?" You comment as you punch her order into the register.

"Minseok has the best coffee.” She hands you her card. “Everyone in the city knows that. Everyone in the world probably knows it too."

"But you're supporting the coven with the most stuck up assholes." You return the card to her.

"You're working at the coffee shop."

"But I don't have the same issues with them that you do." Not mostly at least. You would appreciate it if Minseok occasionally asked you back into the brewing room. 

She shrugs. “Did you place that order for here or to go?”

“To go?” You raise a brow. 

“I need it for here.”

“Why?” You stretch the word into two syllables. 

“Because I’m staying here.” Rolling your eyes, you adjust the order. "I'm supposed to be meeting up with Yuri." She explains as she checks her watch. "But, she's late as usual."

Your finger pauses above the register as you gawk at your cousin. "Yuri? As in the hedge-witch of the Stahn Family?"

"Yuri is much more than a hedge witch."

"Okay, whatever,” You hold up your hands, stopping whatever tirade she will surely start. “But she’s a Stahn and this is an Essem cafe?"

"Yes,” she crosses her arm, and there is no stopping this coming tirade. “Why is it so hard to understand what me and the Fantagios are trying to do? We want to create a world where people can see beyond their family covens and share knowledge for the benefit of the world."

Leaning forward, you shorten the distance between you and your cousin. The more heated she becomes the louder she gets. The customers have already started to side eye her, and the last thing you need is for Johnny and, especially, Minseok to hear her. "That's great and all. But your dream is not reality and you agreed to meet up with a Stahn on Essem territory. They're basically mortal enemies. This could end in bloodshed, and I could lose my job because I'm related to you."

"Calm down. Yuri wouldn't have agreed to meet here if she was worried for her safety."

You swallow your rebuttal as you hear the hinges of the brewing room door squeak. Your cousin’s eyes grow to the size of saucers, and you wonder why Minseok is delivering her coffee. He rarely leaves the brewing room, leaving all the deliveries to Johnny.

Minseok extends a mug to your cousin who whimpers a “thank you” as she takes it. She sips. Her cheeks flush, but whether that is due to Minseok or the heat of the coffee only your cousin knows. 

“Is it good?” Minseok’s question raises one of your brows. In the year and a half that you’ve been working for Minseok, you have never heard him ask a customer’s opinion of his work. Pink tinges the tips of his ears, and you have to refrain from pinching yourself. Maybe, this whole day has been a dream.

“It’s delicious.” Your cousin, the queen of social justice tirades, simpers.

The nausea from earlier returns as you suffer through the ensuing conversation. Despite your effort to tune it out, you hear Minseok comment on your cousin’s frequent visits to the café. She explains that you’re her cousin, which you wish she would have left out given what is about to happen, and that he makes the best coffee in the city. His whole ears brighten at the compliment, the red creeping into his cheeks. Surely, a customer is bound to come in soon and end this disgusting display of emotions.

“Y/N can keep you company while you wait.”

 Your name snaps your attention back to the conversation. You blink as you search your brain for the lead into the statement but find nothing. “What?”

 “I was telling Uko,” Your cousin must have introduced herself while you attempted disassociation, “that you can take your break early to wait with her.”

“Oh, I mean sure if you’re okay with that.” The look on Minseok’s face screams that he would be okay with anything that your cousin wanted. 

“Go ahead.” He motions for you to be on your way, and with a slight nod, you head into the brewing room which offers the exit into the main area.

Johnny, busy at a cauldron, eyes you as you walk past him and remove your apron. “Where are you going?”

“I’m taking my break.” You say with a shake of your head as you hang your apron on its hook.

A glance at the clock scrunches up Johnny’s face and puffs out his already large lips. “But, your break’s in an hour?”

“Listen,” you say, turning to face him completely. “I don’t know what I just witnessed out there.” You gesture to the door behind which you are certain the uncomfortable situation is continuing. “But, Minseok said go to break, so I am going to break.”

“What did you witness?” Johnny grabs a mortar and pestle from the counter and adds three pinches to his cauldron. A faint smell of strawberries wafts through the room bringing with it the image of sunlight fields and a gentle breeze. He’s brewing happiness. The ingredient he added was green. Was it an herb? A stone? A mixture of different things? “Y/N?”

“What?” Your mind snaps back to the moment as you remember that Johnny did ask a question. “Is your cousin dating anyone?” You ask rather than answer.

Johnny pauses mid-stir and stares at you. “No.” He draws out the word as he slowly starts to stir the cauldron counter clockwise. “Are you asking for a friend?”

Your eyes narrow at his tone. “No, I’m asking because he’s currently flirting with my cousin, and it’s gross.”

“What?!” His whole face lights up, and he nearly spills the cauldron in his haste to reach the door to the order counter. Sprinting across the room, you reach the door before he does and block it with your body.

“What are you doing?” You pant as your lungs struggle to refill.

“Our family, at least the cool people in our family, have a bet going that Minseok has a wife and two kids in hiding or that he is a celibate monk. I bet that he hasn’t found the right one. Now move, so I can prove I was right and win the bet.” He tries to shove you to the side, but you dig your heels in and refuse to budge. “Come on.” He whines, pulling his bottom lip up into a pout.

“If you want me to move, then you had better use your magic because this is already ridiculous enough.” Fortifying yourself for the oncoming attack, you blink in surprise when Johnny steps back with a shrug.

“I don’t need to. I can ask Minseok about it when he comes back here.” He returns to the cauldron. The potion has turned a putrid shade of green, and Johnny hisses as he tries to fix the problem. 

Staying would provide you valuable knowledge, but Minseok has yet to approve your assistance with the brewing. Staying also means you would witness the next installment of this non-thrilling saga.

Minseok and your cousin are still talking when you exit the brewing room into the main area. They probably haven’t even realized how long you’ve been gone or that their conversation was almost interrupted by an overly inquisitive mind.  

“There’s a free table over there.” You bust into the middle of a conversation about magical vs. non-magical cleaning products. 

“Right.” Your cousin looks to you, then back to Minseok. “It was very nice talking with you.” Her smile stretches across her face. “Maybe we could talk more later.”

Minseok’s smile is more subdued than your cousin’s, but it’s more than what you witness on a typical Tuesday. “Yes, I would like that.”

“Minseok.” Johnny’s head pops out of the brewing room. “I need your help with something.” The stench of rotten fruit leaks through the open door. Minseok mutters a quick apology before disappearing into the brewing room. 

You take a seat at the free table, a smug smile on your face. Your cousin is slower to take her seat, her smile still in place. “Is this really the first time you’ve met Minseok?” You ask when she finally settles in her seat.

“Yes,” she answers though her eyes remain on the brewing room door. “He had already graduated when I started high school. I heard about him from the upperclassmen, but they did not do him justice. He is one fine man.”

“Gross. Can you take your thirsty ass and get out of my place of work?”

“You work in a coffee shop, a place where thirsty people are literally supposed to come.” She quips back, finally glancing at you.

“Please, people don’t come to cafes because they’re thirsty. They come to work, socialize, or take aesthetic photos, and maybe sometimes for caffeine.” 

Before she can formulate a rebuttal, the bell above the front door jingles, and in walks the reason for your cousin’s visit. In your disgust, you had forgotten the threat to your job. Panic races through your veins as your attention shifts to the counter. You wish for all the luck in the world, but luck abandons you. Instead of Johnny coming to greet the new customer, Minseok emerges once again. Habit controls him as he smiles and gives the customary greeting. Only after the last word leaves his mouth does recognition register in his eyes. 

"Yuri." The name is a question and a greeting.

The hedge-witch tilts her head a fraction of a degree in the semblance of a nod. "Minseok." She returns the greeting. You wait - breath held, heart racing - for the coming altercation.

"Kyungsoo's been looking for you. He seems to be worried about something. Is everything okay?"

"You can mind your own damn business." She huffs, her arms crossing over her chest.

You flinch, but Minseok chuckles. "I'm merely a messenger."

"Well messenger, you can tell Kyungsoo - and please make this verbatim - 'I'm fine. Thank you. You can suck my dick'."

Minseok jots the message down on his guest check book, glancing up at Yuri when he finishes. "Anything else?"

"No, that's all."

"Would you like to order anything?"

"Hell, no. I'm here to meet with someone." She glances around the shop. 

You shrink down in your chair, hoping to avoid detection, but your cousin shreds that hope. She waves her hand, drawing both of their attention to you two. Minseok’s eyes rest on you for a moment before shifting to your cousin. 

Yuri returns the wave as she walks to your table. "Hey Uko, sorry I'm late. The potion needed to brew a little longer this morning than I anticipated. I blame this muggy weather. It's messing with everything I make. Is this your cousin?" She nods to you as she plunks into the last of the three chairs at your table. Uko nods her head. "Nice to meet you."

"You might not think it's so nice. She works here."

A hiss slips out as Yuri shakes her head. "Why must the young always be corrupted?"

"Don't worry. I might not have a job for much longer." You sigh as you push yourself out of your chair. "Breaks over. I’ll find out soon enough if I do or not."

"Minseok might be an Essem, but he's not going to fire you because you have a connection to me.” Yuri assures you. “If he does though, let me know and I'll kick his ass." Yuri grins, showing all of her teeth, and you chuckle despite the anxieties waging war in your stomach.

Walking back into the brewing room, you grab your apron and slip it on while keeping your back to Minseok and Johnny. With a deep breath, you turn to face them. Johnny stands over the cauldron which is a deep forest green and simmering pleasantly. You breathe in the smell of strawberries and hope the happiness has rubbed off on Minseok who is standing beside Johnny and whispering instructions. 

With a glance up, Minseok pats Johnny on the shoulder and walks towards you. Lifting leaden feet, you meet him by the door to the ordering counter. 

A volley of words waits on your tongue, but they retreat when Minseok asks, “Can you give this to your cousin?” The “this” he is referring to is a folded scrap of paper.

You take the paper, nodding as you slip it into the back pocket of your jeans. “Sure. What is it?”

A small smile lifts his cheeks, and his voice is soft when he says, “My number.”

You choke on your response, and you can hear Johnny chuckling as you attempt to regain your breath. Minseok offers to get you a drink, but you wave off his concern. “What?” You finally manage to get out.

“I forgot to ask for your cousin’s number when we were talking.” He pouts. “I was hoping you would give her mine and tell her she can text me whenever.” 

“Sure.” You pause before asking, “Should I go back to work now?”

“Of course.” His response is instantaneous and a flood of relief washes through you. “And thank you.” He adds, the corners of his mouth quirking up. With a nod, he returns to Johnny’s side. 

Exiting the brewing room, you shake your head. On the plus side, you still have your job. On the negative side, your cousin might start dating your boss which may not be a complete negative but it definitely isn’t a positive.

[howdoyousleep3]

a little bit of curve

Hi! This is for everyone who wanted Daddy!James pulling Twink!Steve’s bikini bottoms to the side... Threw in a couple more as well. Hope you love! 

Steve has never seen James let loose before but it’s a sight to be seen. In any other setting he has such a steely exterior, never a twitch of the lips, barely a word to be said. He’s a terrifyingly confident man who controls a room as soon as he enters it and very few people get to see any other side of him. Steve considers himself extremely lucky he is one of those people. He considers himself even more lucky that he is someone who gets James’ sole attention sometimes and it’s intoxicating. Coupled with this carefree James, Steve feels like he’s living in a dream.

It’s like they arrived in a different universe when they walked up to James’ friend Sam’s house that afternoon. James was hugging people and clapping them on the shoulder, laughing with them and joking. Steve had never seen the older man act such a way. He openly held Steve close, no one bat an eye at their age difference (something Steve had been very hesitant about), and it didn’t take long for the whole crew to reach a pleasant level of buzzed.

Sam grilled a mean feast, chicken breast and steaks and bratwursts and a plethora of veggies and potatoes, and James had to tell Steve that going up against Thor in a hot dog eating contest probably wasn’t the best idea. Considering the other man’s size, it was probably the right idea to listen to James. He did however lounge on pool floaties with a very sweet girl named Wanda who made sure to point out to Steve multiple times how cute it was that Mr. Barnes looks at Steve with “googly eyes”. Steve wasn’t sure what “googly eyes” were but by the way Wanda giggled he knew what the general idea was.

James looks at Steve a little differently than others.

The day is lazy and fun and everything that Steve could want for an early summer Saturday and as the night winds down they all gather around the pool in the variety of different seating options and lounge chairs to watch a movie on an impressive projection screen. Steve’s maintained a pleasant level of tipsy all day, his skin is a little toasty, his belly full as well as his heart, and when he snuggles in tight next to James on his lounge chair he wonders if the older man will need to carry him to the car.

“Hey, sweetness,” James greets him, voice a beautiful rumble that makes Steve’s chest constrict, a few sweet kisses to his head as he adjusts and snuggles in close to the older man. James’ arms are thick as they wrap tight around his form, Steve’s head resting on his thick chest, snuggling up next to thick thighs, god he’s obsessed with this man. Steve might be a little more tipsy than he had thought.

“Hi, Daddy,” Steve murmurs into James’ jaw and the other man lets out a purr of a noise, grabs for Steve’s thigh and hikes it up over his waist a little. It makes Steve hot all over, makes his insides squirm at being handled in such a way so publicly. The two of them have only exchanged small kisses and side hugs and the occasional grab of the ass. Steve had caught James’ eyes hot on him a few times but other than those touches and Daddy’s eyes, they haven’t shared much physical touch today, which is not something Steve is used to.

“You havin’ a good time, baby?” James asks him, voice still hushed, tilting Steve’s chin up with the touch of one finger, the blond moving easy for him. He doesn’t even give Steve a chance to respond and when James’ lips hit his own he knows he’s in for it. Daddy’s lips are scorching, hot and slick, working Steve’s mouth open to accommodate for his tongue. Feeling James lick into his mouth like he fucking owns it makes Steve let out a breathless noise, makes his hand come up to grab at Daddy’s jaw. 

When the hand on his thigh slides up to cup his ass, Steve can’t help but whine a little bit, can’t help but press his body into Daddy’s in a little squirm. 

“Can’t believe I let you wear a fuckin’ Speedo. What was I thinkin’, Steve? Huh? Tiniest goddamn trunks I’ve ever seen and you choose to wear ‘em on a day where I can’t bend you over any surface or send you to your knees. What a tease.”

James’ hand can get an entire asscheek in one palm and he does so now, squeezes and massages as he speaks, and it immediately makes Steve worried that his cock will soon peek out of its confinement. He’s half in the older man’s lap, face tucked into his neck for fear of others hearing his pitiful noises, and shit that’s right-- there are other people around them. 

“Daddy…” Steve whispers in feigned worry even as he finds his hips rolling into James’ side, pressing his erection into the other man’s hip, his thigh. James chuckles, “Oh please, baby--don’t pretend that you don’t get hot from other people watchin’ you squirm.” Steve blushes profusely, feels the burn under his sun-kissed skin, shakes his head and nips at James’ earlobe in a bratty move, one that has Daddy pinching his ass in response. 

“I could pull your bikini bottoms to the side and no one would notice, right here right now, huh?” 

Steve stutters, his brain and his voice, “T-they’re not...they’re not bikini bottoms,” he manages to get out, a little mortified and a little offended, but James purrs, slips his fingers down the back of his bottoms.

“Oh, doll but they are, look at’chu--so small you could almost see this pussy if you bend over.”

Steve wants to scream, barely bites back his squeal, digs his fingers into James’ chest some, so mortified but so fucking hard. The arm around his back tightens some, pulls Steve in a little harder, a tight shhh of a noise pressed into his temple. They have not played this game often, James having introduced it very recently, so the newness is fresh, the humiliation very present. Steve has a dick, is a man, has never been anything close to feminine, but Daddy whispering in his ear about his bikini bottoms and his pussy makes him so turned on he gets a little light-headed. 

“Aww, don’t gotta be embarrassed, kitten. Know you’re a little slut for people watchin’ your sweet little ass be good for your Daddy. Know you love it when I talk about your sweet little pussy.” Steve’s next few breaths are gasps and he’s trying so hard to be quiet, knows they are in a secluded-enough corner but that there are still people all around them. His dick throbs in his bottoms, his hips can’t stop rolling softly into James’ body, and he wants to argue and spit back at Daddy but can’t open his mouth for fear of others noticing.

He tries anyway.

“It’s...it s’not a pussy, Daddy it’s not--” 

“Hush,” James hisses, slides his hands down the back of Steve’s trunks even more, hand squeezing at the bare skin there, “It’s whatever Daddy wants it to be.” 

Steve’s teeth dig into James’ shoulder a little more in retaliation but this time he lets Steve do so, lets him be a brat, hand massaging and squeezing at the younger’s ass a little roughly. Some of the squeezes are so rough that the tips of James’ fingers dig into Steve’s crack, press against his little hole and that makes Steve whine, makes him let out a breathy noise into Daddy’s ear, into the skin of his neck. 

“Daddy…”

“Mmm, yeah, sugar?” He doesn’t even try to play coy, doesn’t even try to drag this out, or beat around the bush--

“M’so hard, wanna come.” A shiver that he can’t immediately interpret runs up the length of his spine at his words spoken in such an open and public space.  The movie plays in the background, sound loud, screen lighting up the ground, the pool, and some of the chairs. And here he is with Daddy’s hand down his pants thriving on the humiliation of the older man talking about his boy pussy. 

“Ohh, already, doll? Have barely touched you and you’re already all wet?” Steve’s exhale is shaky, his chest tightens, and he throws caution to the fucking wind. 

“Uh-huh so wet, Daddy. Wanna come.” James’ fingers press in tight to his hole, against his rim, and the pressure makes Steve’s hips stutter, not even realizing they were humping Daddy again. He wonders if James will touch him out here, will move his hand around to his front and jack him off quick and dirty. He moans at the thought, a breath of a noise, sucks on the hinge of James’ jaw as he feels those fingers begin to rub in tight circles.

“Only way you’re gettin’ off is on my thigh, baby. You want it so bad you take it,” he whispers a little harshly into Steve’s ear before kissing the top of his head and turning his attention back to the big screen. Steve is a little stunned, a lot turned on, refuses to take his face out of the crook of James’ neck. Daddy can’t expect him to just hump him here on this lounge chair in front of everyone, can he? Without any help or Daddy’s hand? One whine on his part and a tight pinch to his bum confirms his thoughts--he’s on his own. 

Steve takes a few seconds to try and collect his thoughts but it isn’t successful whatsoever, not when the things he tries to think through are the same things that are making his cock rock hard and achy. His mind runs a million miles a second until it reaches its destination and--

He rolls his hips a little harder than he has been, one good and deep roll, tries to be discreet but knows that one lingering look would give away what he’s doing immediately. He whines, brings the hand on James’ chest up to cup his neck and the older man hushes him, a gentle coo of a noise, squeezes his arm around Steve’s shoulders on the next thrust. It should help Steve be more quiet but the fact that Daddy has his eyes on the movie and is telling him to be quiet as he gets himself off using Daddy’s thigh is...it’s somethin’. 

It’s enough somethin’ to push him to continue to roll his hips, continue to chase his pleasure. Steve finds his rhythm, turns his torso a little more in, finds that sweet angle that gives him that beautiful pressure that he craves. It feels so good and it’s just enough to keep his hopes high and his pleasure a little higher, and he finds himself getting caught up in the feeling, forgetting where he is. When he curls his leg over James’ a little higher, oh that’s it, that’ll get him there, that’s--

He’s so keyed up from the short but intense build, Daddy’s words and touches, that he feels that first coil of pleasure build in his balls, build in his core. He kisses at James’ jaw, reaches up to suck on his earlobe a little, makes a godawful pitiful noise, but Daddy pays him no mind. 

It makes Steve even hotter. 

His movements become a little more frantic, fuck he can’t help it, finds himself grinding down a little harder, hand coming down to grip at James’ chest. He can’t believe he’s humping at Daddy’s thigh, doesn’t even want to think about it, is mortified, but why is it so hot? Why is it going to make him come embarrassingly fast? 

“Daddy…” he breathlessly whines, gasp getting caught in his throat a little, and James hums, turns his head to kiss Steve’s head, doesn’t take his eyes off the screen. He needs a little extra something, needs reassurance, needs--

“You’re alright, honey come on. It’s okay.” 

God, how did Daddy know? How did he know that’s exactly what Steve needed? How does he always fucking know? Steve lets a tiny whimper slip, squeezes his hips in tight against James’ hip, wishes he could be letting out a squeal instead, wishes Daddy were fucking him instead. Heat seeps into Steve’s trunks, pulse after pulse of humiliating pleasure rolling up and down his spine, Daddy’s lips in his hair, and his eyes can’t help but roll back a little. 

Almost immediately he is letting out a whimper in embarrassment and discomfort, a few waves of residual sweetness traveling up his spine. James pulls his body in towards his, adjusts Steve until they are a little more sprawled out, a little less in a position required for someone to get off in, and there are lips on his forehead again. 

“S’my boy,” is all Daddy says as he purses said lips and that almost makes worth coming in his swim trunks at a summer BBQ worth it. Almost. 

“You’re buyin’ me new swim trunks,” Steve grumbles with a feighed huff of annoyance. 

“Whatever you want, babydoll.”

Hope you loved!! ILY. 😘😘😘

[alienheartattack]

In the Spider’s Web (NSFW)

Just when I thought I was out, they pulled me back in. After literal years of feeling uninspired by ship stuff (the manga is so far beyond shipping at this point that I now ship Mikasa with years of therapy), I went through my drafts and found a few attempts at the prequel to Things That Go Bump in the Night. To catch you up: modern AU, Levi is a vampire, Mikasa has been hunting him since he murdered Eren, then boners occur. And this time, thanks to the Comic Sans trick, I was able to bang out just under 5000 words of Rivamika vampire/hunter fun.

It’s been a really long time since I’ve written smut or even prose in general (I’ve been writing exclusively for stage and screen for the last 3 years) so I’m feeling kinda self-conscious that I may have lost my fanfic mojo or whatever. I usually don’t press for feedback but I would really love some this time around if you have the time. I hope you enjoy the story!

CW: death, gory injuries, getting drunk on blood, and straight up fuckin’.

Mikasa has to stifle a wild howl of laughter when she finally picks the lock on the blacked-out skylight atop the vampire's lair. This is it, she thinks, the culmination of her hard work to kill the man — No, not the man, the monster — who killed her brother. A flash of memory quickly stifles her silent celebration: the now-familiar sight of the shell that used to be Eren. The seemingly fathomless well of her sorrow threatens to overflow as she remembers the details she has tried so hard to forget: his golden skin turned to ash; his dimmed green eyes wide with surprise, staring infinitely into the void. Mikasa takes a few long, deep breaths, sucking in lungfuls of chilly October air until the image fades from her mind and she can devote herself entirely to her task.

The vampire's name is Levi, and even the most debased and inhuman Kindred speak of him in awed tones. Through her work with the Hunter Corps, Mikasa has learned of his legend: that he can puncture a mortal's throat and have the poor sack of meat half-drained before they realize they’ve been bitten. That he is faster, stronger, more cunning, and more ruthless than any of his kind. That he will not hesitate to display his physical and mental superiority to anyone, be they human, Kindred, or Hunter.

Tonight, Mikasa plans to drive a stake through the heart of the legend. She has followed him for over a year, tracking his movements and shadowing him as he prowled the streets of the City, hunting for prey. She has tried to kill him twice before, and twice he has held her off — but not hurt or killed her. Mikasa finds it peculiar that she has not yet met her fate at the end of his fangs, but has never considered why. The motivations of a monster are of no interest to her.

It has taken her far too long, by her estimation, to come up with this plan. She will hide on his roof at night while he finds his next meal, then wait for sunrise and sneak into his lair to kill him while he sleeps. She prefers to dispatch her quarries in a fair fight, pitting her impressive speed and skill against supernatural ability, but with Levi, her need for revenge outweighs her honorable convictions.

Mikasa watches the first rays of dawn creep over the horizon, chasing away the cerulean darkness with streaks of crimson. She takes the bloody sky as a good omen. According to her watch, it is 6:37 AM, just a few minutes before sunrise. Levi should be at his most vulnerable after falling into his daily slumber.

Time to go, she thinks, steeling herself for her mission.

She smiles a rictus grin as she slowly opens the skylight, careful not to let its hinges creak. Holding her breath, she climbs inside the building, finding a series of metal rungs to guide her down fifty feet into Levi's lair, and closes the skylight behind her. Her boot-clad toes seek soft contact with the next rung as she climbs down silently, languorously, like a stalking cat. Every few moments she stops to listen for his movements, to look down and see whether he is lying in wait for her. She hears nothing and sees nothing, so she continues.

The room below serves as some sort of ceremonial dining hall, with a long wooden table stretching across most of the room. Ornately carved wooden chairs sit around it, with the largest and most intricate chair at the far end: Levi's seat, undoubtedly. The table is set for a banquet with a multitude of plates, wine glasses, and silverware at each seat; empty silver candlesticks and candelabras run down the length of the highly polished oak. The hall is lit with hundreds of flickering candles in sconces and chandeliers, providing a dramatic backdrop to the priceless works of art contained within: painted portraits in gilt frames, marble sculptures, antiquities on pedestals and in glass cases. It is a museum of opulence, of corruption. Mikasa's stomach turns as she surveys the scene, imagining the countless people who gave their blood and their lives for Levi to amass a collection to rival the world's greatest museums.

And then, while she is deep in thought and dangling ten feet above the heavy wooden table, one of the metal rungs comes loose from its moorings — and Mikasa falls.

She has the forethought not to yelp in surprise as she pitches away from the wall, but cannot help herself from crying out as she lands on her side on top of the table, ceramic plates and crystal goblets shattering beneath her weight. Mikasa lies there, the wind knocked out of her, unable to take a breath from pain and shock. After a few moments, she regains her senses and groans as she registers a new pain; no, two of them, a dull ache in her ribs and a sharpness in her thigh. She feels around her thigh with shaking hands until agony surges through her and she finds the source of the pain: one of the silver candlesticks has pierced clean through her leg, its heavy base embedded in her hamstring muscles and its fluted tip sticking out through her toned quadriceps.

"Noooo," she moans. Even if Levi is not there, he will return any moment to see her served to him on his dining room table, bleeding and ready to be devoured. Mikasa attempts to sit up but finds that the slightest motion hurts so much that her vision starts to go white around the edges and hot tears stream down her cheeks. Even breathing hurts, sending stabbing pains through her side as she tries to catch her breath.

"So that's what you've been scheming, little fly," comes Levi's disembodied voice, slithering out from the room’s flickering dimness. Mikasa tries to summon the last of her strength to move, to do anything but lie there and suffer, but she can only raise herself a few inches before she lets out a tortured, feral scream, a wild animal cornered at last.

"Surely your feeble human brain can still form words. You're badly injured, but you're not dead yet," he says in a sharp, mocking tone, materializing seemingly from thin air next to her. "Emphasis on 'yet.'"

Mikasa takes in a shaky breath, rage and agony coursing through her in equal measure. "Fuck… you… Levi," she spits.

"For the record, that's not a sufficient apology for smashing my property and getting your blood all over my table." He goes to speak but pauses when he registers the scent of her blood, meaty and potent and alive, more delicious than anything he's ever smelled before.

"Your blood," he repeats, softer this time. "Oh, god." He groans under his breath, suddenly feeling weak in the knees as a potent hunger unfurls in his belly. Levi's expression starts to shift: his eyes widen and his mouth goes slack, exposing the tips of his fangs. His pupils dilate, inky black overtaking the otherworldly silver hue of his irises. He approaches her slowly, seemingly floating towards her, his eyes locked on her impaled thigh.

"Kill me," she grunts. "Just get it over with."

"No," Levi says, his voice hushed, almost reverent. "I don't want to kill you like this." He reaches one pale hand toward Mikasa and she attempts to roll away from him, crying out wordlessly at the waves of torment wracking her broken body. But he does not touch her: instead, his finger finds a spatter of her blood on the wooden tabletop and wipes it away, placing his finger between his parted lips.

The sensation that hits him is so unexpected and overwhelming that it nearly brings him to his knees. He almost comes in his pants just from anticipation; the fraction of a second it takes for his finger to enter his mouth feels like ten lifetimes, and he groans in ecstasy as he finally tastes her, all iron and heat. Mikasa's blood sings on his tongue, burning down his throat like the finest whiskey, filling his belly like a sumptuous meal and paradoxically making him even more ravenous for her. He is surprised to find that he does not want to drain her dry; he wants to savor her, coaxing a few drops of blood from her at a time, enrapturing her with the power of his fanged kisses.

Once the intense sensation fades enough that he can think somewhat clearly again, Levi realizes that Mikasa has been watching him the entire time. He meets her gaze, hoping he doesn't look as wild-eyed and utterly undone as he feels. If she notices, then he cannot tell, her face still distorted into a tortured grimace.

"Don't toy with me," Mikasa grinds out from between clenched teeth. Her breath hisses shallowly in and out of her mouth, occasionally punctuated by low moans.

"I'm not," Levi replies coolly. "I want to heal you, and I want you to come back and try to kill me in a fair fight. This..." he motions vaguely towards her curled body, "this isn't fun for me."

Mikasa lets out a guffaw despite herself, then howls as pain radiates through her broken ribs. "Fun? You find this fun?"

"I do," he says. He smiles wide, letting his razor-sharp fangs peek out from between his lips. "Your pathetic attempts to kill me have been fairly humorous, but the irony of you ending up in a bloody heap on my dining table, of all places, is too satisfying to put into words." Levi sucks in a shaky breath, inhaling more of her blood's heady perfume, then leans close to her, his mouth inches from her ear. "I should eat you up," he all but purrs. "But I won't."

With that, he disappears, leaving Mikasa alone in the great hall. She drags her arms, covered in her protective leather jacket, across the tabletop to sweep the shattered plates and glasses onto the floor, sending silverware clattering against the hardwood. She then feels around the tabletop for any other blood she has spilled, wiping it off with her hands before he can drink any more of it.  Even if he swears he will not kill her, she does not trust him, especially if he becomes intoxicated on the heady, rich blood of a Hunter.

He reappears a few minutes later, bearing a lacquered wooden tray. On it rests a delicate bone china teapot and two matching teacups and saucers, each painted with a pattern of vines and red roses. The roses look almost obscene to Mikasa, plump and splayed open, ready to be plucked.

"You're bringing me tea?" she sneers as Levi pours a measure of steaming amber brew into each cup. "That's really going to help get this candlestick out of my leg."

"No, but this will," Levi says, raising his wrist to his mouth and slashing it open against his fangs. He positions his hand over the tray as his blood washes over his alabaster skin and into one of the cups, darkening the tea until it looks like wine. He then licks his wrist clean, sealing the gash. Within seconds, his wrist is pale and pristine once more.

Mikasa goggles with disbelief at Levi, who places the cup of blood-tea near her hand. "You want me to drink your blood?"

"Are you just going to state the obvious over and over?" he snaps, earning himself a murderous glare.

"Pardon me for being a bit perplexed at my current situation. I don't usually make a habit of taking tea with the monster I'm trying to kill." Mikasa wrinkles her nose at him, thankful that she’s found one expression of contempt that doesn’t make her entire body ache.

Levi picks up his cup of tea, lifting it by the rim with his slim fingertips, and takes a sip. "Perhaps you should."

"Don't humor me."

"Look. I'm offering you a gift, in exchange for a promise."

"Then it's not a gift," Mikasa grumbles. Levi slams his teacup against the saucer but doesn’t spill a drop. The rattle of china on china echoes throughout the hall.

"Will you shut up? You’re really making me regret not killing you." Mikasa lets out an angry sigh. As much as she doesn’t want to make a deal with Levi, she can see no other way off the table without further injuring or killing herself in the process.

"Fine! Tell me your terms!" she grinds out.

Levi takes a long, slow drink from his cup before he answers. "You drink the tea and walk out of here healed and whole. In exchange, we call a truce. From now until the next sunrise, I don't try to kill you, and you don't try to kill me."

Mikasa considers his proposition, trying to find some flaw or catch. "Why should I believe that you'll honor this agreement?"

"Because if I wanted to kill you, you'd be dead by now," he says, his voice low and raspy, seductive yet poisonous. Levi puts down his teacup and reaches over to her, placing the pad of his index finger on her pulse point just beneath her ear. He feels her heart fluttering, the pulse of her blood through her veins, then traces his finger down the path of her jugular. Mikasa's breath quickens beneath his hand. His caress blazes a path of heat down her neck, into her breasts and belly, and lower.

"Or I can toss you out into the night to defend yourself. I can think of a few Kindred who'd love to get their hands on you." Suddenly he removes his finger from her skin and uses it to push the wine-dark teacup toward her. His gaze bores into her, evoking the same peculiar heated sensation as his touch. "Drink."

She doesn't want his help, doesn't want his blood flowing through her body. She’s read that drinking a vampire’s blood causes a bond between them, albeit an ephemeral one, and she does not want to test this theory for herself. In this moment everything feels too intimate and too perverse to her, the vampire who drained her brother dry offering her tea and sympathy instead of a swift death. But the pain in her body grows with each breath, and she knows that she cannot leave here under her own power. At best she will have months of recovery, at worst she will be permanently unable to continue her hunt. Mikasa reaches out a bloody hand toward the porcelain teacup, but before she can grasp its delicate handle, Levi stops her, capturing her wrist in his grasp.

"You're not touching eighteenth-century bone china with your hands caked in—" he swallows thickly— "filth."

"I can't exactly wash my hands—" Mikasa says, but is cut off by Levi running his tongue over her hand, licking her skin clean. He sucks on each of her fingers in turn, rubbing his lips over her fingertips, lapping at the semi-congealed blood pooled in the hollow of her palm. He lets out a ragged sigh and braces himself against the table with one hand as his cock grows hard again and his knees tremble at the taste of her.

Mikasa is transfixed by the sight before her, Levi's eyelids fluttering closed as he lavishes attention on her skin. She has been this close to him before but has never noticed the length of his eyelashes, the soft pout of his lips, or the raw male power emanating from him. She has been nearly nose to nose with him in a fight, but now, lying battered and bleeding in his lair, she has never felt more wetness or more warmth between her legs.

"God, you're delicious," he moans, licking the last of the blood away, and Mikasa has to fight herself not to mimic the low, rough sound. Her chest rises and falls heavily as she contemplates the tainted cup of tea before her, wisps of white steam swirling above deep garnet.

"I have to avenge Eren," she tells him, her tone steady and resolute, yet mournful. "No amount of kindness from you will change that."

"I know." Silence stretches out between them for a few moments. Levi looks as though he wants to tell her something, conflicting emotions warring on his face until he lets out an annoyed grunt and decides to speak.

"You should know that I did him a kindness as well. He was wanted by forces much more monstrous and evil than even me. The Strigoi," he says in a hushed voice, seemingly too afraid to speak the name of the vampire elders’ council at full volume. "A quick death was the best I could do for him. That is all I can say on the matter."

Mikasa stares at him, her eyes shining, then gives him a small nod. "Thank you," she whispers, then reaches for the china teacup. Her eyes do not leave his as she lifts its delicate rim to her lips and drinks the entire thing in one swallow.

She can feel the potency of the drink as soon as it hits her tongue, the grassiness of tea leaves mixed with the smoke and steel taste of his blood. It swirls around her mouth and warms her, trickling down her throat and into her stomach. Without realizing she is moving, she lifts her other hand to his mouth, smearing blood across his lips until he grasps her wrist with both hands and hungrily laps at her crimson-stained skin.

Her breath quickens as she feels his blood doing its work, suffusing itself into her cells, making her insides roil as bruised organs repair themselves, fractured bones knit together. Mikasa reaches for the candlestick in her leg, wincing as she wraps her fingers around one end and prepares to yank it out.

"No!" Levi cries. "Not yet. You’ll bleed out and I... I don’t know if I’ll be able to control myself." His voice is husky, thick with what Mikasa realizes is barely-contained desire. He runs his tongue across her thumb, capturing one last droplet of blood lodged in the corner of the nail, then lets her hand go.

If he wasn’t dead, he’d be blushing, Mikasa thinks, a similar flush blooming across her cheeks.

"Can you help me, then? I think you know your blood better than I do," she says with a knowing smile. Levi returns the smile and nods, climbing up on the table and kneeling beside her. He rests his palms against each side of her calf and runs his hands up her leg, stopping near the wound on her thigh. Mikasa shivers beneath his touch; the contact sends bolts of arousal throughout her body, overriding the last few threads of lingering pain. The only sound in the room is her labored breathing becoming more regular as her ribs heal, then the sound of fabric tearing as Levi rips her pant leg off from around her injury, leaving most of her leg bare.

"What are you—?" she blurts.

"I need to seal the wound," Levi interrupts, his tone brusque. "It’s easier this way." He waits a few moments, watching intently as the ragged flesh and muscle starts to join together. When it is sufficiently closed for him, he pushes Mikasa’s knee to her chest and grasps the base of the candlestick protruding from the underside of her thigh. He then yanks the candlestick out, sending it flying across the room, and attaches his lips around the open wound, drinking the residual blood and licking at her skin. Deep muffled moans escape from between her flesh and his mouth. When he is finished he gingerly puts her leg down and does the same to the other side of the wound, burying his face in her thigh. He uses one hand to steady himself and the other to rub his painfully hard cock through his pants, hoping to relieve some of the tension there. Mikasa writhes beneath him, though whether it is in pain or pleasure he cannot tell until he looks up from the now-healed wound to see her gazing down at him, her eyes heavy-lidded, her mouth set in a pouty O.

In response Levi leaps on top of her faster than the human eye can discern, pressing her against the tabletop with his heavy, muscled body. Although he is shorter than her, a fact she never hesitates to point out, every inch of his body is toned and taut and imbued with superhuman strength, giving him the presence of a man twice his size. Mikasa gasps with the dueling emotions of fear and arousal when she feels him atop her, unsure of his intentions.

"You promised," she says softly, surprised that she feels wounded at the thought of his betrayal.

"I did," he answers in a low, breathy tone, then lowers his mouth to hers and takes her mouth in a fierce kiss. Mikasa immediately responds, her arms crushing him to her, her hips arching up to meet the rigid bulge in his pants, her tongue flicking against his as she opens her mouth to him. Levi presses himself against Mikasa, grinding his cock against the now-damp juncture of her thighs. She moans wordlessly as his zipper grazes her clit, marveling how she can feel such a thing through layers of fabric. Levi seems to share her thoughts, momentarily pulling away from her so he can unbutton his shirt and pants. Mikasa does the same, undoing the zipper of her jacket before Levi presses his hands to hers, stopping her.

"Let me," he rasps, his voice rough with need. He finishes undressing, throwing his crisp white shirt to the floor, kicking off his shoes, pushing down the waistband of his trousers. Mikasa mentally notes with a smirk that he does not wear any underwear and that his noted penchant for cleanliness seems to have disappeared under the influence of potent blood and sensuality. When he is finally naked, his muscled frame looking like sharply chiseled marble in the candlelight, his cock swollen and thick and ready for her, he pulls her up to a seated position and slips off her leather jacket, pushing his hands down her arms until it drops off of her body and falls to the table. The jacket hangs there for a moment and then drops to the floor. Her shirt soon follows, his fingers undoing each button with agonizing deliberation, tracing each inch of exposed flesh with his hands and lips; then her bra, which he flings in some random direction. He doesn’t know where; instead he is gazing deep into her eyes, seeing his hunger reflected in her dilated pupils and parted lips. His movements are soft and sure, dragging out the process of undressing her until they are both trembling and frenzied, ready to pounce on each other with barely-controlled lust.

He is the first to move, grasping her by the hips and yanking her pants and underwear off in one fluid motion and pressing his mouth to her pussy, inhaling the scent of her before finally, blissfully tasting her.

"Fuck!" Mikasa moans as Levi drags his tongue in leisurely circles around her clit, each circuit coaxing more noises out of her, breathy little gasps and sighs that only serve to drive Levi wild. His cock throbs in response and he groans, aching to be buried deep inside her. Mikasa rests on her elbows and watches him, looking down the flat plane of her belly at the top of his head as he licks and sucks at her most tender flesh. She flexes her hips and opens herself even wider to his touch; he responds by gripping and massaging her inner thighs as he devours her, the taste of her sex as intoxicating as that of her blood. He is firm and confident against her most sensitive parts, each motion pushing her closer and closer to an explosive peak. Within minutes she is shrieking and thrashing beneath him, orgasm tearing through her body with a force that only Levi possesses.

Before Mikasa can fully come back down to earth, he reaches his hands beneath her body and flips her over, depositing her on her hands and knees, sending silverware skittering, plates and glasses crashing to the floor. He barely registers the wanton destruction, focused only on the needs of his body, the desperate desire to plunge himself into her. Mikasa pushes her ass against the stiff length of his cock, silently begging him to ravish her, to give her pleasure by mercilessly taking his. Levi chooses not to indulge her just yet, grasping his shaft and rubbing his head against her folds a few times before he can no longer take it. He growls as she takes him inside her, her cunt hot and tight and slick with shameless need.

"Yessss," she hisses, overwhelmed with the delicious sensation of herself stretching around his cock, feeling herself adjust to his thickness. Levi tries to savor the moment but cannot resist the frantic urge to slam his cock into her over and over again, her ass slapping against his hips with each frenzied stroke. Mikasa starts to keen, her pussy clenching around his cock, sending electric currents of pleasure through both of them with every motion.

Levi loops one arm around her waist and pulls her upright against him, molding her back to his chest as he still maintains his furious rhythm inside of her. Mikasa leans against him, arching her back to give him access to her bared neck. His features briefly take on a look of disbelief at her actions, but the look in her eyes says Come, taste me.

"So fucking hot," he cries. He grips her tighter around her waist, using his grasp as leverage to fuck her harder. His free hand finds her clit, teasing it with his fingertips until she twitches and shudders against him, primed for another orgasm. Levi increases the tempo of his thrusts and swipes at her clit roughly, building a furious rhythm that will soon leave her limp and exhausted, if her frantic moans are any indication. His ministrations increase in speed, building to a fever pitch as he feels his orgasm start to build in his thighs and his balls. Mikasa’s eyes clench shut in concentration; an iridescent sheen of sweat appears on her forehead and neck, and blazing spots of color burn in her cheeks. Just before he comes, just as Mikasa’s cunt starts to flutter around him, he sinks his fangs into her neck and takes a long drink, the familiar but still somehow unexpected taste of her blood pushing him headlong into an orgasm that feels as though he is the one being drained. In that moment there is no Levi and no Mikasa, only two beings of pure pleasure, screaming their release as one.

Mikasa is the first to regain her senses, collapsing forward onto the table, sending another plate and glass to the floor as she catches herself on unsteady arms. Levi’s cock slides out of her pussy, glistening with her wetness. She makes a disappointed noise, feeling keenly the loss of him inside of her, a sensation of emptiness without his cock filling her. She lies on her stomach atop the table and lets out a long, sated sigh.

"Holy shit," she rasps, her voice hoarse and her throat dry from her heavy breaths and screams. She looks over her shoulder at Levi, her hair damp and matted to her forehead in dark tendrils, her countenance disheveled and gleaming. If he still breathed, the sight of her would take his breath away.

"Yeah," he murmurs in agreement, reaching out one hand to stroke her lightly sweating back, his mind utterly blank. Physically he remains pristine, not even a hair out of place; mentally, emotionally, he feels as confused as he does satisfied, as though he has been broken apart and rearranged in a foreign configuration. In due time he will register the magnitude of this encounter, will rage and seethe at the destruction they’ve both wrought in his lair, will scrutinize what the hell he just did with the woman who’s been trying to kill him, but for now all he wants to do is gather her in his arms and take her to his bed. He does so, moving with such speed that Mikasa barely registers what has happened until Levi is propping her up against a mountain of pillows, her skin glowing against his crimson silk sheets. He settles himself next to her, his body curling around hers as she does the same to him. Mikasa reaches over and brushes a strand of dark hair out of his face, then presses her lips to his gently, almost chastely.

"What just happened kind of makes me wish I’d asked for a longer truce,” he says after a few minutes of intimate silence.

Mikasa giggles softly, then sighs. "Me too." Neither of them suggests one, though, because that is not the way of the world. He is a vampire and she is a Hunter. They fight on opposite sides of an eternal war; they are not supposed to be lovers and bedfellows. After tonight they must return to their roles and forget about the passion between them and how they gave in to it, although they both know that they never will.

"You do know I'm going to try to kill you tomorrow night, right?" she asks him.

"I know," he replies, his lips curving into a wry smile before he can think to hide it. "I'm looking forward to it."