#even though the only reason he lost a year was cause of the time bleed and not cause he was actually dead

[amazingspider-z]

Based on a combination of Jaime calling himself an alien hybrid in the first issue of Graduation Day, the way he was consistently drawn without a nose as the Blue Beetle during the 2006 run (not just the mask design either-comparing his profile to other people when in costume, it *is* distinctly flattened (and yes I compiled panels as evidence) and since it's a mask more than a helmet in terms of fit, well), and Khaji Da's ability to manipulate Jaime's physiology, I bring to you what I've been calling the Reachling/Infiltration Mode AU.

Basically, it takes the concept of the infiltration Scarabs one step further with the idea that they're designed to rework the host's DNA (or more accurately, probably, insert/replace with XNA) to be more similar to that of the Reach, although the changes are supposed to lay dormant until the end of the infiltration century.

However, on account of being magic-damaged, Khaji Da was a) unable to fully rework it's host's genome and b) fully integrated all the changes they had made functionally immediately once they'd connected completely to Jaime (which, I guess technically would be after his first transformation 'against' the posse, such as it was, but which for narrative reasons I'll say is after his technically second transformation in Infinite Crisis) which is, to say the least, not great for Jaime.

Technically, Khaji Da can still make Jaime look normal through manual manipulation of the infiltrator protocols, but since physiological manipulation is easier to do than it is to undo, it's an active manifestation that can be disrupted, although the actual power this uses up is miniscule enough to be negligible.

(On the other hand, while the Horizon's beetles do bond with their host to the cellular/neurological level, they aren't as invasive, so to speak, since the Horizon aren't, y'know, tyrannical space colonizers)

[frickinsleepdeprived]

Ride or Die Part 1

Sanemi x Fem! Reader - Motorcycle Club AU

Word Count: 9.4K

TW: DEAD DOVE, DO NOT EAT - READ THE DAMN WARNINGS BEFORE READING P L E A S E: Mentions of violence ● school fights ● blood ● so much fucking blood ● domestic violence ● hospitals ● alcohol ● marijuana ● vaping/smoking ● reader being a stubborn bitch ● Sanemi being even more of a stubborn bitch ● so much fucking angst ● Sanemi has unpleasant memories of a lost loved one ● readers going through some shit-

CW: MINORS DNI - Reader has a wet dream and gets herself off in her sleep in Sanemi’s room (and Sanemi hopelessly watches, therefore by extension, voyeurism.)

A/N: HOLY FUCKING SHIT ITS ABOUT DAMN TIME- After promising this *checks calendar and cringes* New Years of this year and April of this year, I’m finally done with the first part of this multipart fic! No explicit smut in this part unfortunately, this is mostly about the opening dynamics between Sanemi and Reader. Smut, however, will definitely come in the next part hehehe- enjoy! I hope I didn’t disappoint with this lol

...

The moment she opened her eyes, she couldn't register anything. It was dark, darker than the abyss of her mind as her mind slowly manifested into consciousness. 

Though (Y/N)’s head was still foggy, she was able to figure out where she was. She was in a car, an SUV at that. Two women hunched over here trying to keep her bleeding at bay and her mind focused on something else. Her immediate thoughts were simple.

“Who the fuck are you?”

“Hey, can you hear me? Are you awake?” One female voice called out, it sounds like she's crying, more than likely she was worried. Another female voice scolded the other.

“Are you blind?! Of course she's awake! She's just not able to comprehend anything right now, Suma. And if she is, it's a damn miracle.” The voice, deadpan and flat, was from another woman. “Besides, it's not like she's in any position to answer questions anyway.”

“No no, ask all the questions you can. Get as much information as possible, Makio. The more the better.” Another female voice called out from the front passenger seat. Her voice soothing and calm, one could only assume she had the patience of a saint. “Tengen, love, can you make this go any faster?”

“There's a problem with that, Hinatsuru. Last time I was speeding with Kyojuro in the back after he got in a fight with Seis Lunas, I got pulled over for doing forty over the speed limit. Like, yeah, the cop was cool and all, let me off with a warning. But still, not risking it.”

That name…

That fucking name.

“Wh-what?! What the hell?! Where am I?!” (Y/N) sat up immediately. That name, Seis Lunas, wasn't something to be taken lightly. That name was the very foundation of her pain. The catalyst for her suffering and the only reason why she's in the situation she's in now. “WHERE IS HE?! WHERE'S THAT FUCKING BASTARD?!” her mind turned to one thing; fight or flight. And it looks like she chose to fight. The two women in the backseat holding her down to the seat and trying to calm her down as best as they can.

“Makio do something!” Suma cried out, struggling to keep (Y/N) from not only injuring herself more, but from trying to keep herself and her sister-wife from getting punched in the face

“HOW DO YOU EXPECT ME TO DO ANYTHING SUMA SHES FREAKING THE FUCK OUT!” Makio screamed, restraining both of the injured girl’s wrists and holding them down. (Y/N)’s tears making her feel a hint of remorse.

“Well try something!” Suma retorted, feeling an overwhelming sense of guilt as she pressed hard on (Y/N)’s thigh, causing the poor woman to yelp in pain. “Aaaaaahhhh I’m sorry-!” 

Their bickering and arguing only caused (Y/N)’s state of mind to worsen. The tears streaming out of her eyes proved that she was not only trying to keep her screams of pain at bay, but she was also terrified- no, she was mortified.

“EVERYONE SHUT THE HELL UP!” The male shouted, both of the women quieting at a moment's notice. “Alright, here's what the fuck we're doing. Makio, Suma, keep the lady's bleeding stable. Hina, start asking questions, and you,” He pointed to (Y/N) in the backseat, his voice turning calm, yet still stern as ever. “Don't worry, everything is gonna be fine. We're taking you to a hospital.” (Y/N)’s eyes widened at that. The last place she needed to be, of all places, was a damn hospital. “No, you don't get a say. No, you don't get to just fight us on this. This is happening, because it'll be hell or high water if we don't get you some help.” His tone was final, as if no one could argue with him.

Going to a hospital meant many things; healthcare, security, stability, and of course, a chance to get better in peace. But this? 

This would be anything but peaceful.

“No… no no no please-” (Y/N) protested softly. Sweat began to collect on her brow and her hands started to shake. Makio kept a hand on her forehead while Suma suppressed the bleeding.

“Whoa whoa, hey. It's okay, you're going to be fine. The doctors and nurses at Saint Tamayo are amazing, Hina would know, she works there. You've got nothing to worry about.” Makio tried to soothe her.

“No! You don't understand, if I go, he'll find me. He's got eyes everywhere, there's no way I can stay under the radar.” (Y/N) started to panic. She never went to hospitals for that reason. She was used to treating her wounds on her own, let alone fighting for her life.

“Can I ask you a personal question?” Tengen commented.

“Sure?” Her head tilted to the side as (Y/N) gave him an unsure confirmation. 

“Does this have anything to do with Seis Lunas?” The albino man asked, his maroon eyes flashing in the rear view mirror at her. The mere name alone sent her into a state of panic, but it was a silent panic. The kind where one would freeze, then look away. The one where it would make someone unsure of what to say, but their body language and expressions said it all. “Hinatsuru-”

“I'm calling Windbreaker and Ouroboros right now.” Windbreaker? Ouroboros? If these people are who (Y/N) thinks it is, then she's in for a lot more than she bargained for. “Hey, we're stepping on the gas. Seems like this girl is involved with some sort of domestic situation with the Kizuki, and it doesn't look good either… yeah,” she looked to Tengen “Step on the fucking gas, we have to get there before the Kizuki do.”

“Where to?” Tengen replied, his voice unsure and worried. (Y/N) speaking up before Hinatsuru could.

“I told you guys once, and I'll say it again, if I go to a hospital, he will find me and I will be dead!” Her voice was hoarse, the pain becoming too much to bear. One more moment in this car and she'll more than likely die from stress alone than the actual blood loss. Hinatsuru gave her a sympathetic look in the rearview mirror. “I… I get you guys are trying to help and I get that it's important I get the proper medical care but I'm fine-”

“You are anything but fine! You’re going to a goddamn hospital and that is final!” He slammed his hand against the steering wheel, picking up speed and rushing towards Saint Tamayo hospital. “Do you know what kind of condition we found you in? You were covered in sweat and vomit, you went into shock. You're not fine and you're going to the hospital. And I swear to God if you try and back out of this again, I'll personally see to it that you're restrained to the fucking gurney once we get there. Got it?”

“That's unsettling!” (Y/N) shrieked, her voice strained with tears and horror. Makio sighed and held her close, pressing a reassuring kiss to her temple, all platonic.

And that's when everything got faster, and everything turned dark.

…

A young albino man sped on his motorcycle on the highway. A determined, seemingly menacing look on his face as he rode alongside a fellow biker- a group of them, actually.

It was times like this when he was more focused than he was with his own day job. Going ninety on the highway when he knew the speed limit was sixty-five. He could easily get pulled over by one of those state troopers if he and his fellow riders aren’t careful. Yet, that doesn’t stop him, because this is personal for him.

Needless to say, he doesn’t like to hear about domestic violence. Not that he doesn’t care, because he does, deeply. But the thought of a woman being beaten by a man. He was raised better than that. 

And by God if he doesn’t do something about it now, it’ll be the end of his pride.

Skidding and drifting on the asphalt of the highway, he took an exit and slowed to a halt at the light. Finding the time to open his helmet shield and take a hit off of his vape. The strong, raspberry and pineapple scented smoke wafting in the chill of the fall night, causing him to sigh as he quickly put the cancerous device back into his pocket and closed his shield. Revving his engine, he sped off as the light turned green, making his way to Saint Tamayo with the rest of the group riding with him.

Maybe this time, he’d be able to save someone. Albeit it’s someone he doesn’t know, but at least it's a life saved… hopefully.

…

Her kicks and screams resounded at the entrance of the emergency room. Her fighting was rough, and unfair.

(Y/N) was a scrapper, a dirty one at that. Even through the blood loss and the injuries she had, she could still put up one hell of a fight despite seeing black. Not red, black.

“Dammit! You’re going to injure yourself more if you keep fighting!” Makio struggled to get her out of the SUV. Holding onto (Y/N)’s underarms as Hinatsuru and Suma took hold of her legs. Tengen’s hands gently restraining the injured woman’s wrists as they loaded her into a wheelchair.

Though, (Y/N)’s efforts proved to be vain and futile; becoming far too stressed. Nurses and doctors rushed out to see what was wrong, and upon seeing the state of her injuries, they had no choice but to take the poor soul in. (Y/N) kicked, punched, writhed and squirmed the entire time the hospital staff took her to the back. A group of motorcycles pulled up in the parking lot and walked briskly to the quartet waiting at the entrance of the emergency room.

“About damn time you showed up Windbreaker. Where the hell were you?” Tengen sighed deeply, running a hand through his silken white hair. Windbreaker took off his helmet, exposing his scarred face to the bitter chill of the night. His leather jacket is not doing much to shield him from the cold either. The rest of the riders took off their helmets as well, most of them male, but two of them female.

“Well, trafficks fucking horrendous. Not to mention, state troopers are everywhere tonight. I’m surprised that me and the rest of us didn’t get pulled over. But that's neither here nor there.” Windbreaker spoke casually, watching the taller albino and three ladies in front of him light a cigarette. “And you get onto me for vaping, hypocrite.”

“Hey, this is stressful, cut me and the ladies some damn slack.” Tengen sighed, taking a heavy drag and exhaling deeply. “How’d you even come across her anyways? Were you and Ouroboros just out riding around or something?”

“Man, we watched the poor girl crash.” A ravenette cut in, his short hair tied into a small ponytail at the dead middle of the back of his head and a mask concealing his nose and mouth. A pink haired cutie in a pair of denim short-shorts, a white crop top, a pair of riding boots, and a leather vest attached to his hip. “We don’t know where the black eye, bruised knuckles, and the cut on her thigh came from though. However, we’re thinking it’s some sort of domestic from what we all heard over the phone.” He spoke grimly, a cold and distant look in his eyes as he spoke of (Y/N), gripping his female companion tighter by the hip as he sighed.

“Well, the way she spoke of Seis Lunas earlier makes it seem like it is domestic. She was practically hollering and begging us to not take her here. Like, yeah, she acknowledged she needs the attention for her wounds, but she did mention something about how Sies will come around at some point, he’ll find her and kill her is what she said.” Makio chimed in, throwing her cigarette butt on the pavement and stomping it out. “Woman’s so stubborn that she started fighting us in the backseat, but she was too weak to get any real licks in.”

“Well, that comes as part of being involved with the Kizuki, I guess.” Windbreaker spoke with a snort, taking another drag from his vape as a few of the other riders went into the waiting room of the ER. “But regardless, the priority here is this chick and what the hell happened to her. I’m betting she has a concussion too, she wasn’t really smart with the way she was riding earlier. No helmet, no protective gear.”

“Maybe she was in a rush?” The pink haired girl spoke up, “I mean, if it's a domestic like we’re suspecting, then chances are she was just trying to get away from her aggressor quickly regardless of any implicated consequences.” The men nodded in agreement, they had to admit, despite her being a bit of a bubbly, happy-go-lucky girl, she’s got her wits about her. “Not to mention, no one would ride like that if it wasn’t serious.”

“That much is true… anyways, we should probably head in with the rest. I’m sure they’re getting the rundown on her injuries right now.” Windbreaker spoke up, watching the others put out their cigarettes and hide away their vapes. Some of them had flasks, making him shake his head in disapproval.

Maybe this time he can save the poor soul he found on the side of the road. But from the looks of it right now, (Y/N) won’t be recovering anytime soon.

After all, extensive injuries like that don’t just heal overnight.

…

About a week had passed and (Y/N) was, arguably, in worse shape than she was before. Eye still blue and black- slowly turning yellow, her scars stitched up and wrapped heavily. A few broken ribs and a concussion, but expected to make a full recovery. Still and unconscious in an ICU room, Windbreaker stood by her bedside, and not once did he want to leave. Doctor or nurse came in to check on (Y/N)? He was right in the corner watching silently. Anytime anyone else was in the room, he made sure he was there so that way nothing would go south- and god forbid anything happen, lest someone wanted to face the lilac eyed man’s wrath.

(Y/N), on the other hand, was oblivious to the man’s presence. When she came to, she gave him a look of confusion. “Wh- who?-” she was cut short by his quick interjection.

“Eh, just the guy that saved your life. You’re lucky I caught you in time, well, me and the others did.” The albino spoke softly, yet something in his voice sounded stern. “You’re also lucky you didn’t die.”

“Well excuse me macho, but I didn’t need saving.” (Y/N)’s curt response stirred a slight annoyance in him, though, he couldn’t help but be strangely amused at her sharp tongue and cold words. “If anything, he’s-” once again, (Y/N) was cut off.

“He’s gonna find you and he’s gonna kill you? Yeah, I heard that whole rant on the phone sweetcheeks.”

“...Sweetcheeks?” The disdain in her voice was palpable, dripping with scorn and offense, yet she couldn’t help but blush at the thought of being called such an endearing name. Yet she knew such sweet words could be laced with the most bitter of intentions. “I- I’m not sweet, dammit!”

“Well, maybe not sweet, but definitely helpless, at least for the moment.” He spoke candidly, crossing his arms and leaning back in the chair by the woman’s bedside. “Your bikes totaled too, I’m not sure if it can be salvaged either.”

“Goddammit- okay, who are you? Name, please, I can’t be talking to strangers right now, my psyche can’t handle it.” (Y/N)’s voice sounded hoarse, likely from the screaming she was doing last night. The man sighed, running his hand through the mess of silver locks on his head, he was losing himself in his mind. Plagued with thoughts the last time something like this happened… the last time he couldn’t save someone like her.

“Name’s Windbreaker.” he spoke with finality, “I ride with the hashira, as if the patches on my vest weren’t a dead give away already. You crashed last night, like I said, your bikes totaled and more than likely scrap at this point. You’re extremely lucky to be alive, but you’re also kinda dumb for driving the way you were.” (Y/N) rolled her eyes at his comments, scoffing slightly as she rubbed her sore eyes, wincing slightly when she touched them.

“Well, Windbreaker, when you’re trying to get away from an abusive ex like Seis Lunas, you don’t have a choice but to ride fast. Whether I ended up dead or alive is a different story.” The last of her strength was used to hoist herself up, but only to fail when she tried with all her might to use her upper body strength. Flopping back onto the mattress, her head hitting the pillow, letting out a defeated sigh as she looked over at him. She drank in the sight of him, her eyes narrowing in recognition, but she wouldn’t dare say anything about it, at least not yet. The real question is why the hell he looked so familiar. “Anyways, why did you decide to “save” my sorry ass?”

“Because I was raised better than the scum of the earth that decided to do this to you. Besides, why the hell would I just let you die anyways? That’s blatant negligence on my end.” He crossed his arms, sighing in exasperation. Did she really think she wasn’t worth saving, that she wasn’t worth anyone’s time? It only made him wonder how much Seis Lunas had broken her down and rebuilt her in his image. “Did I mention that you’re also quite the fighter?”

“Yeah, you kinda have to be in this cruel world.” (Y/N) sighed as she spoke, looking at the IV that’s lodged into her hand. “As soon as I get out of here, it's back into hiding.”

“Hiding? Where?” His eyebrows raised in intrigue, but his concern outweighed his curiosity, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall. “This town isn’t exactly big, you know.” He sighed softly, tilting his head.

“Wherever the hell is farthest from town. Might go two counties over if I’m honest.” She spoke with yet another resigned sigh. It was as if she was giving into whatever her circumstances threw at her. Which honestly, was quite sad in his eyes.

“Well, yeah, but… don’t you have a place to go? Family? Friends?” His voice grew solemn.

“Family lives out of state, as far as friends go, I have none of them. Seis asserted his “dominance” and drove all of them away. Now I’m just out of touch with all of them.” This… this hurt Windbreaker, hard. It was like someone put him in her place. At this rate, he hurt for her. 

He might just bleed for her.

…

Weeks followed, then about a month and a half. After (Y/N) had been discharged from the hospital and started physical therapy, he hadn’t heard anything from her since. With every passing night, the bitter chill seemed to get even colder as Windbreaker thought about her. He would stay up at night, haunted by the things she told him about Seis Lunas.

“Anyways, why did you decide to “save” my sorry ass?”

That one stung the most, if anything, it tore his heart in two. And though he probably shouldn’t be thinking about her, because she was only saved out of what he felt was obligation, he couldn’t help it. After all, a woman’s safety, to him, was probably the most precious thing he keeps close to himself. But a snap of someone’s fingers alerted his senses elsewhere. A certain masked ravenette staring down at him with cold eyes.

“You’re thinking about her again.” He spoke, his eyebrow raised as he stood in the doorway of the silverette’s room within the confines of the Hashira clubhouse. With a heavy sigh, Ouroboros leaned on the doorframe of Windbreaker's room. “Let her go, man, she likely doesn't want to see any of us again. I mean, unless you want to be a creep and go find her.”

“It's not being a creep if it's a welfare check. I know you'd do the same for L'Amour if she was in that girl's position.” Windbreaker sighed, sitting up shirtless from where he was laying on his bed. Picking up a black muscle shirt and slipping it on. “Where are we meeting for church?”

“Dive bar downtown, it's usually pretty empty on Sundays so everything we're gonna talk about should be safe and sound.” The ravenette took his hair down to re-tie it. “And after all is said and done, I'm getting L'Amour to cut my hair.” Ouroboros sighed and crossed his arms, one gold eye and the other blue looking at Windbreakers lilac ones. “If you happen to come across that girl, though, offer the clubhouse to her or something. I'm sure Mariposa wouldn't mind feeding her or anything.”

“She likely needs it, god knows where she is now.” The silverette rubbed the sleep from his eyes, putting on a pair of riding pants. “Matter of fact, I think I might go out now. Do a scan throughout town and see if I can find her.”

“You're really hellbent over this, aren't you? Isn't this what happened with-” Ouroboros was cut off by Windbreakers cold stare. “Nevermind… anyways, church is at seven at the dive bar downtown, don't be late.'' With that, Ouroboros walked out. Not a care in the ravenettes eyes as his footsteps thundered on the carpeted floor of the clubhouse. Windbreaker sighed deeply, setting out to ride around town for the girl he saved a few weeks back.

But he came up empty.

…

Stepping into the establishment, clad in a pair of dark jeans and an equally dark shirt with a pair of sunglasses, (Y/N) hoped no one would recognize her.

Many clubs, including the Kizuki and the Hashira, come to this particular bar for church. (Y/N) has always been to these meetings, but never allowed a chance to voice anything thanks to the Kizuki being a one-percenter club. Always left in the background, or attached to Seis Lunas’ hip with a drink in hand. (Y/N)’s car keys attached to one of her belt loops as she sat on a stool at the bar counter. The doctor told her not to drink, but it was her only hope at forgetting that horrible and damn near fatal night.

Part of her, however, winced as the bartender poured the amber brown, poisonous liquid into a glass with whiskey stones. Yet the other part was screaming “DRINK DRINK DRINK DRINK DRINK-” As the young woman brought the class to her lips, a bitter euphoria overwhelmed her senses. The grainy, caramel scent comforted her mind as she downed the whole glass in one singular swig, not a damn given about the consequences. Over in the left of her peripheral vision stood the hashira motorcycle club. Perhaps they were having church, or maybe they all decided to get out of the clubhouse for an evening. Either way, (Y/N) kept her head low, making sure it wasn’t obvious that she may or may not be eavesdropping, even if it were a breach of privacy.

“Come on man, get over her. She’s likely out of the hospital and doing better. Besides, she’s probably far out of town anyways.” Tengen patted Windbreaker on the back, passing him a pint of whatever draft beer was in the glass. The silverette shook his head and pushed the glass away. “Still don’t drink? Man, you’re twenty-one goddamn years old! Live a little!”

“You know me, I don’t drink, and I won’t drink until Genya’s out of high school.” Windbreaker sighed, his silver hair unruly and a mess from the ride around town. Though, Tengen did have a point; he’s a grown man, what’s stopping him from drinking? Besides, his younger brother is old enough to take care of himself. But then he remembered what his brother had been through, and that was enough to make the lilac eyed man turn down alcohol, regardless of the occasion.

It was like that for three hours; three hours of Windbreaker turning down drinks and of (Y/N) actively avoiding the temptation to turn her gaze to the group of bikers. Of course, she couldn’t ignore the fact that she had been sipping on her third drink for a while now, lost deep in thought of where to go from here, until she got a call. “Hello? Yes, this is her… I’m sorry? Ah, I see, I’m on my way.” Stepping down from the barstool, (Y/N) quickly makes her way out of the bar, her movements quick and fluid- amid the pain of her injuries. It seems like someone was following her out, yet she paid no mind. Slipping into her car, she speeds off towards Kimetsu High, where she’s supposed to pick up two troublemakers that got into a fight. Of course she had to be the one the school called, Jim Jones was too neglectful to even do anything. Reyes was too busy- as was Seis Lunas. Spinjutsu, well, Spinjutsu just doesn’t want anything to do with that. So it’s up to (Y/N) to make sure the bullshit gets settled.

Only God knows what kind of trouble they’ve caused this time.

…

“I’m sorry you did what?!” The two kids in front of her; a girl with long platinum, green tipped hair and caked makeup and a boy with a scrawny, lean build, rolled their eyes and sighed deeply. “How many damn times do I have to tell you guys?! Stop. Getting. Into. Fights! You will be suspended or expelled, or at worst, arrested!” (Y/N) groaned at the thought, rubbing her sore eyes and letting out an exasperated sigh. “Where are the kids you beat up? And don’t tell me they’re in the nurse's office.” The girl had a guilty look on her face. “Isis, what the fuck did you guys do?”

“Well, we had to teach them a lesson somehow.” The boy spoke up, crossing his arms and leaning back on the chair, as if all of this was just normal. “And hell yeah, they’re in the nurse's office, and I bet that those hashira bastards are on their way to come pick them up now.” He had an almost proud look on his face, as did his female companion. The two siblings had always found a way to get themselves into trouble, whether it be minor or major things. They’ve always been troublemakers, even before (Y/N) came around.

A distinct voice came in through the door of the front office; male, gruff, and definitely pissed off. (Y/N) looked up from the two to face who it was, lo and behold it was Windbreaker. “Yes, I’m Genya Shinazugawa’s older brother. Now where is he?” He was practically interrogating the front desk clerk, who basically had no answers to his questions, and that only pissed him off more.

“The nurses office. I’m talking with the assailants right now, actually. Also, nice to see you again, I guess.” (Y/N) spoke up, her voice tired and frustrated, just like his. Windbreaker looked up at her, making a beeline in her direction. The look of rage in his eyes was palpable, but she knew it wasn’t for her. “Look, I know that this is unexpected, but I’ve got this.”

“Oh no, no no no. Your siblings or whatever the hell those two are, they’re gonna pay. They’re gonna pay double. Because no one, and I mean no one lays a damn finger on my brother.” He spoke sternly. “And by God if I have anything to say about it, I’d say lock those two the hell up if they’re not going to alternative school.” (Y/N) sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of her nose. This situation, on top of her injuries and meeting Windbreaker in unforeseen circumstances, was too much.

“I… I understand that. Believe me, if they were my blood siblings, I’d definitely make a decision on their behalf. But unfortunately, I’m not, so there’s very little that I could do legally. Rest assured though, I have all of this under control.” She winced at the pain in her black eye, a headache looming in her skull. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to talk to the principal and see what the hell those two will be going through as far as a punishment goes.” (Y/N) stepped into the principal’s office, shutting the door behind her and leaving the silverette out in the lobby. 

The conversation didn’t last long, it was only a matter of time before (Y/N) learned that the two siblings wouldn’t be receiving a punishment at all, considering this was the first incident of the year. With a frustrated sigh, she snapped her fingers at the two siblings and motioned for them to follow her. But before she left, she passed Windbreaker a piece of paper. “If these two assholes cause you any other issues, call me.”

Windbreaker stared at the piece of paper and sighed deeply, nodding solemnly. “Will do, thanks.” He looked down at the contact information. “(Y/N) (L/N): (***) ***-****”

He would make sure to remember this.

…

It had been a while since that encounter, (Y/N) would receive calls here and there from Windbreaker, who’s contact name came up as “Sanemi”. She had assumed that was his real name, as if the name “Windbreaker” wasn’t enough evidence to it being an alias. “Look, all I’m saying is that Isis and Osiris are just… troubled. But that’s still no excuse for what they’ve done. And what's more, I’m not even their legal guardian, Jim Jones is.” Sanemi, on the other end, let out a scoff.

“Well, that explains a lot. He just lets those kids just run around and do whatever?” he asked, scrunching his face up in confusion. “Moreover, why the hell does Jim Jones of all people have custody of two teens anyways? That guy’s an internet cult leader and everyone knows it.”

“Alleged cult leader, but I have my suspicions also. No one really knows how he got custody of those two in the first place, but that’s neither here nor there right now. Where are you anyways? I hear something in the background.” (Y/N) spoke up, which caught Sanemi off guard, why is she so interested in him all of a sudden?

“Oh, uh, I’m at the hashira clubhouse. One of the members wanted me to offer it to you at the hospital once you got out. But you kinda went off the grid for a while afterwards, so I never got the chance. Where are you though? You sound like you’re outside or something.” He asked softly, concern lacing his voice despite not knowing her well enough to truly have the right to be truly worried.

“... weeeeellllllllll-” her voice trailed off, awkward and nervous before she was cut off by the silverette.

“Location, now.” He demanded, his voice stern and cold.

“And if I don’t?” (Y/N) scoffed, not taking him seriously.

“I’ll scour this entire town looking for you.” Sanemi concluded.

“I’d love to see you try.” She spoke confidently, as if challenging him to even try to get near her. She hung up, and just to humor him, gave him her location. There's no way he’d actually show up, right? “Not to mention, that's an awfully mighty claim for someone that barely knows me. What makes you think I’d go to someone else’s house when I barely know them?” Sanemi scoffed on the other end of the phone. 

“Well, for one, rude. Two, I don’t have a house, at least not yet, working on that.” He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Now, will you please drop your damn location so I don’t have a heart attack?” (Y/N) groaned softly at that… something about that noise roused something within Sanemi. It was wrong, so devastatingly wrong, he barely knows her. Why is he feeling so warm inside at the prospect of bringing her back with him?

“What has you so concerned, Sanemi? You only brought me to the hospital once, besides, it’s not like we’re dating. Unless I need to clarify that for you?” The woman’s tone was annoyed, and definitely not the warmest. “Look, I appreciate your concern and interest in me, that is if there’s any sort of interest or concern in the first place, but I’m okay-”

“You’re not fine, you hear me?! You’re still injured, you’re still being hunted by the Kizuki!” Sanemi snapped, sighing deeply as he threw on some sweatpants and a shirt. “Look, I’m not gonna let you be out there alone. So do me a favor, drop me your location so I can at least get you somewhere safer. You don’t have to come anywhere with me if you don’t want to. I get that I don’t know you very well and that's fine, but at least let me make sure you’re okay. Please?” There was something about his voice… it was desperate, that much (Y/N) could tell. But there was a hint of something else.

Was… was that longing she heard?

“I- you know what, fine. But don’t expect anything to come of this, because that’d be entirely by coincidence.” She sent him her precise location, which was a park on the other side of town.

“Are… are you fucking kidding me- That's it. Stay put, stay on the phone, I’m on my way. If one of those Kizuki fucks comes around then start running towards downtown, got it?” His voice was stern, a little too stern. It made (Y/N) roll her eyes again, but hearing him so riled up opened up her mind to other things also. She knew they were wrong, but dammit if it wasn't enticing.

“Sanemi I-” Her protests were in vain as Sanemi’s voice cut through.

“Got it?” The sound of a door slamming and a car starting made (Y/N)’s heart drop. His voice was demanding- almost too demanding as she heard his car speeding out of a parking lot. Of course there was no convincing this man otherwise, he’s far too stubborn, far too set in his ways to listen to anyone else’s opinion.

“... Alright, just uh, get here quick, I guess.” Her voice was unsure, but her mind was already seemingly made up, not by her own choice of course. With the way Sanemi spoke to her, it’s almost as if he cares. It’s eerily similar to the way Seis Lunas would talk to her, but this is different somehow. It has no malicious intention, at least she hopes it wouldn’t. He’s definitely hard to read, well, that's a lie. His intentions are obvious- painfully obvious. But (Y/N) just can’t shake the feeling of an ulterior motive, especially after everything Seis Lunas put her through; the rat bastard broke her, that much was evident. With a heavy sigh, she sits on a curb and sparks a blunt, inhaling on the Lord’s lettuce and exhaling in the same manner it went in- deep, sharp, and heavenly. The sangria flavored cigarillo wrap made it a little easier to smoke, though she had it in the back of her mind that she probably should’ve gotten a real tobacco leaf to smoke out of; but that's neither here nor there right now. 

As she awaited the hot tempered silverette’s arrival, she contemplated her next move. Would she stay in town? Would she leave and never come back? Where would she go, knowing that her family is far away and friends were out of touch because of her association with the Kizuki, even if it is now former? (Y/N)’s mind raced, her heart heavy as the stress became too much to bear. The heartstrings were pulling, the tears pooled in her eyes- which she quickly wiped away. Reminding herself that she's a grown woman and capable of handling herself. She didn’t need a man, despite how she had to accustom herself to the lifestyle synonymous to that of a housewife. A degrading thought, really, because she never figured she’d find herself at the mercy of someone who is pretty much a stranger, and a member of a rival motorcycle club to boot. “How could I have let myself fall so hard from where I was?” was her immediate thought. Though even her thoughts didn’t quench the sweltering fire that were the burning questions of her uncertain future.

Sanemi, on the other hand, was occupied with other thoughts. Why was (Y/N) out in a park on the other side of town at one o’clock in the morning? What happened to the beat up pontiac grand prix she owned; the one that had a missing front bumper and chipped dark blue paint? Whatever happened the night she was taken to the hospital by Tengen and his wives? He remembered her mentioning something about Seis Lunas being her ex, but that was the extent of it. But the mention of Seis Lunas raised even more questions in his mind. Why was (Y/N) even affiliated with the brutal one-percenter club in the first place? How did she come to meet Seis Lunas? Why was she Osiris and Isis’ emergency contact at the very same school that Genya, along with other Hashira prospects, go to?

As both of their minds were caught up in a slew of questions and thoughts, Sanemi had reached her location faster than he had anticipated. He hung up the call and got out of the black sedan he drives, looking around and spotting (Y/N) almost immediately. Her condition seemingly improved; the black eye was nearly gone and she didn’t look as lethargic as before. Though, there was no mistaking the fatigue in her body language as he stepped closer and closer to her. His movements slow, cautious, and weary as if he were moving towards an injured dog. “Hey…” those were his immediate words. She looked up at him, an involuntary breath of relief escaping her lungs as she took another hit off of the blunt. He sat beside her on the curb, lighting his own cigarette and taking a drag. “You alright?” She looked over at him, trying her hardest to keep her tears at bay, but to no avail, seeing as how they just couldn’t stop falling.

“Depends on what your definition of “okay” is.” (Y/N) spoke softly, her sigh heavy and tired as she took another hit from the blunt. “Car broke down, and I've been walking ever since. Just kinda left it there, it was a piece of shit anyways. Payments were overdue, tags were no good and it had no insurance. If  anything if I was caught riding around in it I’d get arrested, maybe it’s a blessing in disguise or something.” Was she ranting now? She’s never done that before, especially not in front of Sanemi. Like, yeah, they’ve had their fair share of long talks over the phone, but never about personal struggles. She was far too prideful to want to admit she needed help, so why do so now? Sanemi sighed and nodded in acknowledgement, taking another drag off of his cigarette and running a hand through his hair.

“I getcha, it's hard to figure out your priorities, especially in a situation like yours. Hell, maybe it really was a blessing in disguise, considering the Kizuki would know what your car looks like. I’d have definitely ditched the car if it meant your safety.” He took another drag from his cigarette and looked at her. “But I guess you’re not really one to worry about things like that huh?” (Y/N) looked his way with a sneer.

“Really? You’re seriously asking me that? My bike is totaled, my car is gone, all of my shit is at the Kizuki hideout. I doubt Seis Lunas would give it back to me anyways, hell, he probably already burned most of my clothes and broke a lot of my valuables.” She shook her head and took another heavy drag from the blunt. “I don’t even think he wants to see me anyways.” Tears filled her eyes, but she was quick to blink them away. Though this didn’t escape Sanemi, seeing the tears in her eyes broke his own heart. He knew it was wrong, he shouldn’t feel something for her, but he couldn’t help it.

What’s more, (Y/N) feels something for him also, and it’s definitely not what she’s supposed to be feeling. It’s not contempt she feels, but pure and utter infatuation for someone who’s basically a stranger. They barely know each other, hell, they don’t even know the most basic information about one another. They don’t know each other's hopes, dreams, aspirations- not even what the other person’s favorite food is. Why the hell are they so hellbent on feeling this way? This isn’t supposed to be happening, this shouldn’t be happening. But (Y/N) knew that maybe it was just the overwhelming wave of emotions clouding her judgment; that it was simply the blunt she was smoking that was altering her state of mind. But weed doesn’t affect her like that, at least not when it comes to her self control. Sanemi could smell the whiskey on her breath, the weed in her blunt, the pure and utter despair she was experiencing.

He had enough of this, enough of watching her suffer. Without even thinking, he put out his cigarette and took her hand, gently guiding her up into a standing position and to his car. What the hell was he doing, taking a stranger into his car and offering help when he knew she’d probably deny it in the first place? What about (Y/N) was so enticing to him that he just had to do this? “Your hands are freezing, what the hell are you doing out here without the proper clothes? This thin hoodie of yours isn’t going to keep you warm.” He spoke sternly as he took off his jacket and wrapped it around his shoulders, damning the consequences of his own actions in his mind. “At this rate, you’ll catch pneumonia if you’re not careful.”

“Then let me get sick.” (Y/N) spat, a defiant huff escaping her lungs as she sniffled from the bitter chill of the otherwise clear night. Her breath came out in the form of white mist, visible in the blue-violet glow of the street lamps. “Why do you care so much about me? You’re a stranger! Why do you want to help me when you know I’m bound to suffer anyway?” Once again, Sanemi’s heart shattered, feeling his heartstrings pull as he wrapped her up in his arms, trying his hardest to keep her warm. “S-stop, just… don’t, please.” Her pleas fell on deaf ears; gone were the worries of her well being. Sanemi would make sure she was safe, no matter what it took. If the other hashiras didn’t agree, or even if the Kizuki went after him, he didn’t care. “Sanemi enough-”

“Stop. Stop talking, just shut up.” He looked her in the eyes, nothing but care and tenderness within his lilac gaze. “Do you not realize how fucked up your situation is, (Y/N)?” Sanemi spoke softly, wiping errant tears from her cold cheeks. Her skin felt like ice under his calloused, warm hands. “I met someone like you before, she… she meant the world to me, but… that's a story for another time. For now, let's just get your shit from the Kizuki. You’re not staying outside tonight, or any other night for that matter. Alright?” Her eyes narrowed, what the hell was he talking about?

“Who is this we? If you step foot near the Kizuki they’re going to kill you. I’ve seen it happen before, they don’t care who comes around, friend or not. If they don’t want you there, they’re going to hurt you.” Why was she even giving him this warning in the first place? It’s not like she cared about what happened to him or anything, he's a hashira. She’s supposed to hate him, to want nothing to do with him, to loathe him with her entire being because she was supposed to want nothing to do with him. But his touch felt warm, so comforting and so warm that she couldn’t help but lean into his scarred hands that rested on the skin of her face. His gaze was kind and caring, making a foreign feeling swell in her heart and bubble in her gut. It was never supposed to be this way. Sanemi shook his head slowly, a soft sigh escaping him as he thought about the girl in front of him now,  how she’s so eerily similar to the one he knew as Flora, at least, that's what her road name was. “Sanemi answer me!” (Y/N)’s voice brought him back to reality, his eyes narrowing as he regarded her. She’s stubborn, but so was he, and he was determined to help her regardless of whatever protest he gave.

“The “we” is us, (Y/N). I’m not letting you face your ex alone. Not after what he did to you.” Sanemi’s hands ran through her hair, his touch gentle, a far cry from his usually harsh demeanor. “You were put into the ICU for weeks, doll. Who’s to say Seis wouldn’t do it again? If anything, the backup from me should be enough, and if it’s not, you’ve got a whole slew of people ready to back you up at a moment's notice.” Doll… (Y/N)’s never been called that before. “I’ll be goddamned if something like that happens to you again. I… I can’t stand to see you like that again, or like the mess you are right now. So for the love of Christ, stop being so fucking stubborn and just let me help you.” He’s conflicted now, he’s not supposed to be pining over her like this, yet, here he is. Fawning over a woman he barely knows and she’s obviously not having it- or so he thinks.

“Sanemi be honest with me are you just looking for a fuck?” (Y/N) spoke softly, her gaze meeting his in an almost intimidating manner. Her vulnerability causes her to feel weak, and that's the last thing she wants right now. After all, being weak is what almost got her killed in the first place.

“You honestly think I’m that shallow?” Sanemi scoffed, sounding almost offended as he opened his passenger side door as it started to snow. Getting in on the passenger side, he slipped the key into the ignition and started the car. “But if you really need to know, no, I’m not looking for a fuck. That's the last thing I’d look for, especially in someone who’s in a situation like yours. You’re still recovering from your injuries, don’t act like I didn’t see you limping.” He put the car in drive and headed further into town, towards the area of the Kizuki hideout. (Y/N) felt her heart drop at the thought of it, knowing that she’d have to go in there and get her stuff, even if it was just the bare minimum of her clothes. She quickly hopped on the phone and made a call.

“Do you honestly think it’s a good idea to make a call?” Sanemi questioned, raising a curious eyebrow, but his eyes gave away concern. (Y/N) looked at him with a deadpan expression, a deep sigh escaping her as she rolled her eyes.

“Would you rather die? Because that’s what's gonna happen to the both of us if I don’t call ahead of time. It’s for both of our sakes.” She redirected her attention to the conversation on the phone. “Hey, you burn my shit or is it still in your room?.. Excuse me? Donated? I mean, did you at least keep my underwear and stuff?.. You’re fucking kidding me- alright, fine… yeah, yeah, whatever… don’t get smart with me, dipshit… hey, last time I checked, I wasn’t the one that swung first, and I certainly wasn’t the one that left a gash in my leg- shut your goddamn trap, Seis- you know what, fuck you.” Sanemi’s eyes widened at her harsh language, watching her not only hang up, but completely turn off her phone also startled him as well. He let out a low whistle, cringing at the mere thought of what was said on the other line, that is, until (Y/N) spoke up again. “Just take me to the next town over, I’ll manage.”

“No.” It was an immediate response from him, as if it were easy for him to say such a thing. As if (Y/N) meant something to him, and deep down, he knew it was just utterly and horribly wrong. “I can't let you go off the grid, not after what you said to the vice president of the Kizuki. If you're with the hashira, it'll be like having bodyguards-” He was cut off yet again by her protests.

“I don't need bodyguards, Sanemi! I just need time! Time away from this godforsaken, dusty old town where there is nothing for me here!” Sanemi slammed his hand on the steering wheel, a frustrated groan ripping from his throat, pulling over on a deserted road and putting the car in park.

“Goddammit (Y/N) what the hell do you not get?! Going off the grid isn't doing you any favors! It's just a show of cowardice! That you're letting Seis, your fucking ex boyfriend win! If you go, he wins, you understand me?!” His voice raised, but never harsh, Sanemi tried his hardest to make his point known. There was a beat of silence as Sanemi collected himself. Clearing his throat with a sigh, he spoke up again. “I will not sit here and watch you destroy yourself. You know I had to pose as your boyfriend for them to give me visitation rights? You know that I made sure you were getting the proper medicine in that hospital? You may not think I care but the reality is that I do! I WON'T JUST FUCKING STAND BY AND WATCH YOU SUFFER ALONE!-” He was cut off yet again by one of (Y/N)’s frustrated groans.

“Just take me to wherever we're going then, since you won't give me a choice!” (Y/N) snapped, her arms crossed as defiant, solemn tears ran down her face. Her shivering form igniting a fire within Sanemi, making him swear a silent vow to himself.

He would keep her safe, no matter what.

Without another word, he started the car once more, and sped off to the hashira clubhouse. Blasting the speakers with rock and rap. Not a word exchanged as they drove fast and dangerous.

…

As she sleeps in Sanemi’s room, his eyes lock with Ouroboros’. “You… you actually brought her back?” The shorter man spoke incredulously, hitting his vape like it was the one thing keeping him grounded to reality. Sanemi sighed, his clothes snow-soaked and eyes tired. “Man, you're either insane, or you just lucked out.”

Sanemi scoffed, addressing his jet black haired companion by his government name. “She fell asleep in the car, Obanai. She was exhausted, god knows the last time she even slept properly.” A sigh escaped the silverette, tired and anxious, he took a hit from his own vape. “I don't even know when the last time she ate was. I mean, look at her, she's practically skin and bones.”

“Skin and bones is an exaggeration, Sanemi. She's not emaciated, she's just underweight. I'll see if we have anything, but try to fill her up with fluids for now.” Obanai deadpanned, earning himself a glare from his lilac eyed friend.

“Fluids? Really? We'll start her off small, see where it goes. If anything we can always have Mariposa or Hinasturu make sure she's okay.” Sanemi sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose while Obanai snorted with contempt.

“Does she even have the basics? Clothes? A place of her own? Hell, does she even have a job?” The ravenette looked at (Y/N) with a scrutinizing, appraising stare, hitting his vape once more as Sanemi shot him another cold glare.

“She's working on it, dude, don't push it so hard. The more you do the more pissed off she's gonna get.” The silverette whispered to his companion. Of course she was working on it, or at least, he hoped she was working on it.

“She's asleep, she's not going to hear us-” Obanai was cut off by a female voice, one that resounded from behind them, not from the bed where (Y/N) laid asleep.

“Can a girl get any sleep around here without having to listen to yalls bitching and arguing?” They looked behind them, finding a pink ane green haired, pale skinned, green eyed girl. One who looked like she had just woken up- and was clearly irritated. “It's two in the morning, get some goddamn sleep. And you,” she pointed to Obanai, “why are you still awake? I thought you said you'd come to bed an hour ago?” Her voice turned soft, and so did Obanai's gaze. The ravenette wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer and pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“I'll be in bed soon, love, just go back to sleep. I'll be there in a moment, okay?” His whispers soothed the pinkette, who nodded softly and went back to her own room with tentative, quiet steps. Sanemi scoffed with a smirk, taking another hit from his vape.

“You might wanna do that now before your wife gets pissed again.” Obanai casted him a sharp look, heterochromic eyes meeting Sanemi’s lilac ones.

“She's not my wife.” Obanai spat.

“Well, you guys certainly act like a married couple, just saying.” Sanemi snickered, earning a groan from the jet black haired man. “But anyways, go sleep with Mitsuri. I got this from here.” With that, Obanai simply nodded and walked back to his own room to be with his lover. Sanemi looked at (Y/N), who was still sleeping, walking over to her and laying next to her. “I… I hope you're okay.” He whispered softly, memories of the former flower hashira enraptured his mind, flooding his heart with waves of melancholy and bitterness.

But this time it would be different, this time it would be-

“H-hah…” the soft gasp cuts through the air like a cleaver. Sanemi hoped it came from the other room where Obanai and Mitsuri resided. Or maybe that insufferable long haired ravenette's room- Giyuu's room, where he stayed with Shinobu. “Ah…!” Yeah, nope, that's coming from his room. Right where the wounded woman laid in his bed asleep, the slight shuffling of her body under the covers indicated some sort of dream. Whether it was a nightmare or otherwise, Sanemi couldn't tell. However, (Y/N)’s blissed out expression gave evidence to all signs pointing to anything but a nightmare.

He knew better than to disturb her, taking the cold, carpeted floor where concrete resided underneath. Using a bunched up hoodie as a pillow, he knew he had to get some sleep. Yet all he heard was the sounds of her voice; breathless and wanton as she gave into the bidding of her dreams. Her gasps and moans, hitched and hushed, as she gave into the pleasure of her subconscious mind. He knew it was dirty, he knew it was wrong to just sit there and watch her please herself; yet despite himself, his reservations, he couldn't help but to sit and listen.

Soon enough, the cold hard floor of the room proved to be useless in aiding Sanemi's battle against insomnia. Although it was against his better judgment, he gently scooped (Y/N)’s body up, and laid beside her in bed. Gently pulling the sheets over the both of them, he allows the siren call of sleep to consume him.

...

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[cobaltperun]

Genius (4) - Bittersuite

Cairo Sweet x female (G!P) Reader

Summary: It was such a cliché, a reunion she didn’t expect to ever happen, let alone six years after she last saw you. It was supposed to mean nothing, a bit of nostalgia, maybe a brief catching up while waiting for class, it was supposed to be a small wave of nostalgia, not a tsunami that disrupted her entire life. You were her opposite, and as hard as she tried she couldn’t resist your pull.

Story masterlist / First part / Previous Part / Next Part

Word count: 3.5k

-God, I hope it all goes away, 'cause I can't fall in love with you-

A madman’s love.

Cairo had no idea how that felt, but the way Miller described it sounded exactly like what she was yearning for. Ever since she was old enough to yearn for love. To be loved by someone to the point of madness, for that someone to merely be a bone monolith beneath her, to be loved so fiercely and strongly that both her and the one loving her end up consumed by the flames of emotions within them.

To be madly loved and to madly love in return.

How did that feel? To fight for someone’s love, no matter the circumstances, the taboo, the judgment of society. To feel so right no matter how many people said it’s wrong.

She didn’t know, but she imagined Miller knew, he described it, after all. He wrote it with passion that struck her, that made her yearn for what he was painting in her mind. What about his age? Well, she did desire something that others would deem wrong, didn’t she? And then there was Winnie, and Cairo would have cursed her for filling her head with the ideas of giving her virginity to someone older if Winnie didn’t present such a convincing argument. To give her virginity to someone that was, as Winnie put it, wagyu beef, and not deli meat.

She didn’t know she wasn’t supposed to bleed the first time she has sex, the books she read made sex out to be raw, rough, immediate, a desperate act of chasing pleasure, they hardly ventured into the ideas of woman’s arousal, much less aftercare.

Could he give it to her? Could he see her for who she really was? Reveal sides of her she didn’t even know existed yet? He certainly found something worth it in this damn village she despised, he could do the same with her. Find worth no one else did, make her feel wanted by someone. Make her feel like she was the only one who mattered.

Her phone buzzed and she glanced at it. You sent her a message, but she didn’t reach for her phone to reply. She just leaned her head back instead. She couldn’t deny the visceral reaction she had whenever she was reminded of you. Of her heart beating faster, or the dreams she had, or the fact that she wasn’t entirely sure what she was looking forward to more on Monday mornings, listening to Miller, or sitting next to you, your arms occasionally touching and making her feel like she was on fire.

How did you see her? Did you still see the girl who read to you, the girl that dragged you around the forest around her house, the girl who pushed you away? Or did you see her for who she was right now? A ghost, someone a rare few paid attention to, though she kept hearing she was extraordinary. A lonely girl longing for attention and escape. You were certainly providing her with the escape she needed, seeing as Saturdays became your usual getaways, and you took her to places she had no idea about, she was living when she was with you, free from the shackles of nowhere Tennessee.

But your love for her was a lot like Winnie’s. Immature, normal, fueled by reasons appropriate for your age. She couldn’t imagine you or Winnie being driven to madness by your love for her, if the way you loved her even included anything romantic in the first place.

She needed a love that wasn’t ordinary. She needed her madman’s love.

And she feared that whatever was happening between the two of you wasn’t a product of love or friendship, but a desperate attempt to emulate what was once lost.

Cairo didn’t want that. She didn’t want to emulate the past, she wanted… What did she want? She knew what she didn’t want, but what did she actually want?

~X~

This wasn’t working, and the only reason you still tolerated this class was because Cairo was there as well. You suppressed a sigh as Miller droned on about the writer’s style being bold, and too much, and it really was.

You were trying to reignite your love for reading but all this was doing was making you wish to never open a book again in your entire life. You couldn’t get the fact that he went thought student’s stuff out of your head, and that impression alone ruined the class for you.

“Meet me after classes,” he leaned over Cairo’s shoulder, too close to her, secretive, whispering so no one else but Cairo could hear him. Though not quiet enough for you not to hear him, even if you looked like you weren’t paying attention. The fuck was with this guy? After classes?

You were reading too much into it, right?

~X~

Was he seeing her? Like Winnie said? Cairo wasn’t sure yet, but she couldn’t deny their similarities, how at ease she felt, how the only time she felt this much at ease was when she was with you on your rides outside the village. It compared to that as far as her ease went, but it went further, it met other needs she had as well. The ones she hated to admit she had. Her need for approval and attention from someone older, something she never got before, being a big part of it, and what made this seem more impactful to her than what she had with you.

And then there was a part of her that consciously made what she had with you feel like it was to be expected. Like it was a given that you’d reconnect. And she needed to look at it that way, otherwise she’d spiral into fear and panic, because if it wasn’t a given, and if both of you chose to actively put effort into rebuilding what you once had, then that in and of itself, would be a form of madness she wasn’t ready to face just yet.

“See you on Monday, Mr. Miller,” Winnie said as she opened the doors so she could drag Cairo to get her beloved food.

“Bye, kid,” a kid, that’s how he saw Winnie, but he didn’t call Cairo a ‘kid’, so at the very least he didn’t see her as one, though her and Winnie were the same age. He saw her as an adult, and she very much liked that. “Oh, and Cairo, are you going to come this Saturday?” he asked her.

She realized she never got to answer him, and it wasn’t just because Winnie came in, there was an issue of already making plans with you. “I already made plans with Y/N, but I’ll see if she’s fine with postponing,” she told him, not quite ready to give a definitive answer.

He seemed a bit startled all of a sudden. “Y/N?”

Cairo nodded, not sure what made him react the way he did just now, though it was subtle she could see he was a bit uncomfortable.

“Did- Uh, did she mention me in any way?” he tried to brush it off as a normal question, but the way he avoided her eyes gave him away.

“No,” she replied. Not even sure why you would mention him. You didn’t particularly enjoy his class, she could tell by the way you actively tried not to listen to him, and she knew you were doing bare minimum on the assignments. You didn’t like either him or the class, and Caro didn’t know why, she didn’t ask why, and you never told her why.

“Oh, okay, forget I said anything,” Miller regained some color when she denied you ever mentioning him and she just nodded, choosing not to ask him about it.

She’d just ask you. After all, you were the one who kept something from her.

~X~

You were in your garage, just cleaning your motorcycle and your gear when you heard the doorbell ringing. You weren’t expecting any visitors, so maybe it was just one of your neighbors. When the doorbell rang the second time you got up, leaving the rug you were using on the bucket, and quickly washed your hands in the sink, before going outside.

“Sorry for the wait, I was-“ you paused, seeing Cairo on your doorstep. “Hey, I didn’t expect to see you here,” you climbed up the stairs as Cairo looked to the side. You couldn’t read her, but you could tell something wasn’t right.

“Hey, Y/N,” she greeted you.

“Come in,” you opened the doors for her and stepped aside, she knew the house. Even if she hasn’t been inside in a long time. You followed after Cairo, taking notice of how she stopped and stared at the copy of Jules Verne’s ‘Around the World in Eighty Days’. You were trying to read it, but between Miller killing your desire to read and the book being closely tied to your and Cairo’s friendship while you were kids, you hated to admit it, but you weren’t having an easy time with it. Still, you were about two thirds in, so at least you were making some progress.

“Do you want something to drink? Or eat? I was about to make something for lunch anyway,” you were already heading toward the kitchen as Cairo sat down on the armchair.

“No, I just ate with Winnie, I’m okay,” she said and you chose not to push her. She was tense, and it didn’t escape your notice that she chose one seat that would put the most distance between the two of you regardless of where you sat down.

So, you mirrored her, taking a seat on the far end of the sofa, letting the distance between you engulf you. The silence felt deafening, and you hoped it wouldn’t come to this. This was the tension you were worried about the first time you took her out of the village, it wasn’t supposed to be happening now, two weeks after you reunited. “What’s wrong?” you asked carefully.

“Mr. Miller said something, well, he asked me if you mentioned him. Why?” she asked, looking you in the eyes and clutching the straps of her bag in her hand.

You could swear you were hearing alarm bells ringing in your head. Why would he ask her that? “I caught him and coach what’s-his-name going through your books on the first day, that’s all,” you had no reason to protect him, since Cairo asked so openly. Frankly, you weren’t sure why you haven’t told her that in the first place.

“That’s it?” she asked incredulously.

“You wanted more?” you were astonished. Now, you didn’t expect her to be furious, or go on a rant, or anything like that, but you didn’t expect her to think nothing of it. What did she even want from you, because you honestly couldn’t tell where you were standing with her.

“You’re being ridiculous,” she defended him. “Mr. Miller isn’t being inappropriate, he sees me,” she told you.

You raised an eyebrow, puzzled. Sees her? “Cairo, what do you mean he sees you?” you questioned, leaning a bit closer over the dreadfully large distance between the two of you.

Cairo looked away, contemplating whether she should tell you something and then, finally, she made her decision. “He sees my talent; he sees what others’ don’t. He- he gave me special treatment, offered me an early mid-term assignment,” she leaned back, likely reading your frown as if you were disapproving of her.

It wasn’t her. It was his actions. It didn’t feel right. It felt unprofessional, it felt like he was actively crossing boundaries with her, taking advantage of her need to be seen, as she put it. “Cairo, he might not be good for you,” you didn’t feel like you had the right to influence her, or get involved in her decisions, but you also felt like you had to, much like all those years ago, pull her away from something that could harm her.

“You just came back, don’t pretend you understand what is best for me,” she snapped, her voice shaking a bit and even from this distance you could see the tears pooling in her eyes. “I’m going to a poetry reading this Saturday, to see him, just so you know,” the fact that she was canceling your plans didn’t matter nearly as much as the reason why she chose to cancel them.

What pushed her this far? To seek approval from him of all people? “Okay,” but she was too emotional to talk to properly right now. So, you chose to back away for now, to just hope that nothing even worse would happen. And Cairo? She just left, closing the doors with a sound that rang through your mind as if it signaled the start of madness.

~X~

He truly did see her, he saw all of her. The ghost, the rose bush that wasn’t allowed to blossom, no matter how hard she tried. And she saw herself in him, she saw her reflection, and she wondered if he saw himself in her as well. She was willing to bet he did, they were both ghosts, cursed to never be seen for what they were by anyone who wasn’t like them.

He didn’t take her somewhere else, he showed her a side of her home she wasn’t aware of, and she managed to see worth in it she never knew existed. She yearned for more. She yearned for an even deeper connection. She yearned… she longed… she…

This wasn’t a given. This was something she had to reach for, something she had to work for, something forbidden, and yet so appealing at the same time.

Would he fight for her? Accept her entirely and burn in their shared passion and desires and yearning, or would he refuse to participate in this dance? She feared the answer, because, if he wouldn’t… who would?

And in the middle of it all, of all those thoughts and feelings, she just for a moment, saw your face as you told her he wasn’t good for her. Your eyes, intensely looking right at her. What did you see? What compelled you to look at her like that? And along the image of you, leaning closer to her, so close that she, despite the almost overwhelming distance, caught herself unsure if she should back away, maintain the distance, or lean in, encouraging you to keep closing the distance until there was none of it left. Along that image she vividly saw the wild rose bush crushed by an old fallen tree and her eyes widened as she remembered you pulling her away from it all.

Would you pull her back once again? Would Miller be the old tree to crush her? Or would he stand strong next to her as she blossomed? She didn’t decide yet, but she knew the way he was looking at her right now lacked the intensity your stare had.

~X~

You’ve been denying it for years, but Cairo, even after she pushed you away remained a constant presence in your life. You still remembered that time in the forest around her house, when she dragged you around and then just froze when she saw an old tree that had fallen over a bush of wild roses. It wasn’t the scene that remained in your memory. You weren’t old enough for it to profoundly affect you. Even now you didn’t come to give any deeper meaning to the imagery you witnessed.

It was still an impactful memory because she sobbed, and she wasn’t even aware of it. She let out a sound, filled with so much sorrow you couldn’t even comprehend what was going through her head back then. To this day, you didn’t know why it affected her so much, but you knew how it affected you. How it made you feel like you had to take her away from there, that you had to do something so she would smile again.

She set a bar so damn high for you that it wasn’t just the fact that you were moving a lot that stopped you from being best friends with someone. It was the fact that they just couldn’t compare to her. And then you got a bit older and started understanding your sexuality and you tried, you really did. You dated on and off, but again, the connection you were seeking wasn’t there. No matter how amazing the girl was you just found it hard to let someone in the way you did with Cairo. Did you ever have any feelings for Cairo that weren’t purely friendship related? No, not even a childish crush, but the connection between you was just strong enough to affect you years after you last saw her. You felt that connection in the songs you learnt to play, in some of the music you created, brimming with longing and inspired by a friendship long ago left in the past that refused to fade away.

You glanced at her, at her focused gaze meant only for Miller in this very moment, and you weren’t sure how to feel. You just waited for the class to end. And then he approached your and Cairo’s table from behind, and you saw his left hand reaching for her hand as he leaned over her shoulder.

As if he absolutely had to say something only to her.

Your eyebrow twitched. How dare he? He was her teacher, and she was only eighteen. Without thinking you pushed the table to your left so abruptly he lost his hold on the edge of the table and stumbled forward, and, unable to stay on his feet he dropped to his knees to the gasps of the students.

“I’m fine, I’m fine, don’t worry,” he got up, dusting his pants and raising his hands as he turned away from the class, embarrassed by what just happened. Just for a moment his eyes met yours and you glared, begging for him to read your mind and see what you thought. ‘Learn where the damn boundary is,’ is what you were trying to convey through your eyes. Consequences be damned.

Not like there would be any. If he went and reported you, you’d just say what you suspected, consequences of those actions be damned. He, at the very least, did show favoritism toward Cairo.

When the class ended you stormed out of the classroom, ignoring Cairo and Winnie’s eyes following you.

~X~

As you walked out of the classroom after all your classes ended you suddenly felt a hand grab your forearm and pull you aside much to your utter surprise.

“Come with me,” Cairo demanded, ordering you as if you had no choice but to follow her every whim.

“You could be a bit gentler,” you complained, not appreciating how tightly she was gripping your arm.

Cairo looked back at you, anger flashing in her eyes. “I could say the same to you, why would you make him fall like that?” she hissed, dragging you to a slightly secluded corner.

“Maybe next time he’ll think twice before putting his hands where they shouldn’t be,” you were instantly annoyed by the reminder of where he was about to put his hands. And Cairo jumping to his defense wasn’t helping.

“Yeah, and where is that?” she challenged you as you leaned against the wall and she stepped right in front of you. If you moved even a bit, you’d be pressed right against her.

“Not on you, that’s for sure. Or any of his students,” he had his responsibilities and one of those was to keep the proper boundaries with his students.

“And if I want him to?” Cairo demanded and you just… weren’t sure how to answer that. You knew how it made you feel though. And suddenly it wasn’t just about his advances toward Cairo being inappropriate in your eyes. You finally felt as if the pieces on your side were falling into place, and you were no longer seeing the girl you spent your childhood with. You saw an eighteen-year-old girl and somehow you were no longer certain you only saw her as a friend. It was as if the very thought of him touching her ignited flames of madness within you, a jealousy you didn’t even know you could feel over Cairo.

“Do you really?”

“I haven’t decided yet.”

You took her words in, you forced yourself to calm down, to take it easy, to think rationally. “Why did you push me away when we were kids Cairo?” you asked and she backed away a bit, and though she didn’t leave, you could see it in her eyes. She wasn’t going to answer. And her answer mattered to you more than anything, because her answer was the only thing that could make any of this worth it. That was the only thing that could validate or invalidate your feelings. That was the only thing that could solve every question running through your mind. And she wasn’t giving it to you.

A/N: Is Cairo confused at the moment? Yup! Is R? Absolutely! So, tell me what you think, I would appreciate it!

Taglist: @deimaisgail @bee-keeping @marvelous-disaster @jmwetterlund @tekanparadiae

@alexkolax @ioveyouyouloveme @aaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh

[biscuitboba]

Hii, do you have some zolu/luzo ff rec??

Hii!!, uhh i have over 100 zolu/luzo fics downloaded YES OF COURSE, i'll try and list down some (many) fics with one chapter only cuz i'm not sure if i can stop recommending if i include multi chaptered fics... (But if you want some rec for the multi chaptered fics just let me know!! Ohh and maybe some ongoing fics?)

This is gonna be a very long post😭🙏

Bleed like an Idiot by Augment [13k words]

Rating: Mature (for mild gore/torture)

Something something about their fear of disappointing/failing each other, the perfect amount of angst, so good

Not that Luffy wouldn’t die for each and every one of his crew, and he knows, though he will make sure it never ever happens, that they would die for him. But to supersede Zoro’s dream like this, that makes Luffy feel so hideously guilty it locks up his lungs, and his jaw, and he can’t speak, touch Zoro, anything.

The salt & the sea by novks (thychesters) [25k]

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Modern setting, reincarnation au. Zoro being the last person to regain his memories (of his past life) and luffy being lowkey annoyed by it lol

It’s like with Nami, hitting him full force, but it’s so much more than that as the reality of it all comes crashing down around him. Zoro, his (first mate, first friend in this world of pirates, first crew member and first one he swore an oath with), his—he isn’t even sure what to call him. There’s too much but too little to describe him.

Zoro. Zoro, who—no, no, no offense to Nami—should have been first. Zoro, who’s a constant, and he’s practically vibrating with the need to reach and touch him, make sure he’s really real. His tongue darts out to wet his lip as he steps forward, crowding into his personal space and finally grinning because I found you!

Luffy wants to call him an idiot, because it figures he would get lost finding his way home.

But Zoro just blinks at him, flushes, one eye still framed by a familiar scar and says, “Oh, sorry,” and makes it so much worse when he says, “Do I know you?

Of First Mates and Duty by Whatev3rs [14k] 

Rating: General Audiences

Zoro's bad at feelings, but he is trying ok!! 

“First mates… we devote our lives to our captains. Our entire beings. We live for them, breathe for them. And they expect us not to fall in love?” He smiles, small and knowing.

Zoro’s eyes widen and he sputters, trying to muster a response. The man only laughs more.

OR

Being a good first mate was easy enough for Zoro. That is, until the… feelings.

If I Had to Give a Reason by MiniPandaBuns [5k]

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Tooth-rotting fluff, Zoro and his view of luffy, #feelings, love confession, idiots in loveee

“I wonder what you see in him.”

"Too much." He'd say. "It's endless. All of my reasons can't be condensed into words."

I love him simply because he exists. Because Luffy is Luffy, limitless and free.

Inseparable on the face of Impossibility by the11thhour [25k]

Rating: Not Rated

Luffy is taken by some bad guy, his boyfriend and family (crew) to the rescue! #superworriedzoro:(

A fun trip to a new island takes a turn for the worse when a mysterious group of pirates cause trouble and Luffy goes missing. The crew led by Zoro embark on a mission to get their captain back while his vivre card burns away.

When the Dew Falls Up by louluna [10k]

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Time travel au, there are two zoros!!

As the bright light enveloped his body, Zoro knew his day had gone to absolute shit.

New year's kiss by grimsoul [4k]

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Post wano, the title is pretty self explanatory i guess.. fluff, very sweet!! 

Luffy didn’t understand back then but the couple seemed so happy. Kissing someone to strengthen a relationship must have really worked.

It’s been long since that time so Luffy had almost forgotten about it. But then as he sails again now with his crew—the title of an Emperor latched to his name, their journey getting closer and closer to the One Piece, to his dream—a new year approaches them.

Found in the Crack of Your Palm by The_Furthest_City_Light [11k]

Rating: General Audiences

#luffybeingsuperdemisexualatzorofor11k (personally demi luffy is my favorite headcanon of him!)

Zoro’s hands are big, thick and knuckly and covered in calluses from his swords. He has a strong grip, too, and strong muscles because he trains them to be strong.

None of it explains the way Luffy’s body lights up when Zoro clasps the back of his neck, like every nerve is alight and trained on the palm cupping the baby hairs at the back of his skull. His stomach knots over itself and he wants to eat everything in Sanji’s kitchen. Zoro’s skin is a little rough and sweaty from fighting and warm.

Zoro is close, his forehead nearly butting Luffy’s and Luffy couldn’t move if he wanted to, trapped there by the closeness and the touch that makes him aware of Zoro’s skin against his in a way he’s never been before.

Zoro’s eyes bore into his, digging deep into Luffy and dragging out—something, buried in the base of his spine. He feels like the earth is tilting, and freefall seems like it might be fun.

the moon asks a question by d_s_writes [1k]

Rating: General Audiences

A very short fic, but can't stop thinking about the rest of strawhats and their idea of love vs luffy's, like- he really gagged me here😭

Zoro doesn’t understand—how can he feel all the things that the others had spoken of, yet none of it the same time? He felt that each of their versions of love were merely motions of love, rather than love itself.

He doesn’t get it. Love has never been a word, or a sense of belonging, or any of those things. He had only ever really thought of love when he looked at Luffy.

OR: An investigation of the lives and loves of the Strawhat Pirates.

Robin knows by leopardgeckoz [3k]

Rating: General Audiences

Oh moment for both zoro and luffy but especially for the oblivious captain

In which Nico Robin has always known how her captain and first mate feel for one another, and the scenario's in which the rest of the crew discover it.

Alternatively

"Every passing hour of Luffy's silence drove Zoro further and further into madness. He wanted Luffy's smile, his laugh, his chatter, but his captain had spent the better part of the day on the complete opposite sides of the ship as Zoro. Out of sight, but most certainly not out of mind. If anything, his absence plagued Zoro's even more."

step 1: die by swordsmans [11k]

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Roronoa zoro and his unstoppable self  destru sacrificing tendency for his one and only captain (featuring sanji!)

After two years with Ivankov, Sanji knows something about Luffy that Zoro does not.

ship to wreck by novks (thychesters) [9k]

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Zoro and luffy but from nami's perspective?? Mutual pinning and luffy's oh moment

Nami is the first one to notice something is amiss, but then given her current competition is Luffy and Zoro, it isn’t surprising.

“Do you love Zoro?” She doesn’t bother beating around the bush. Doesn’t bother with easing into it with any metaphors or small talk, one of which Luffy would have little interest in, and the other of which would go over his head.

He stares back at her, and for a split second she feels like she’s gone and shoved her foot right into her mouth. Something flickers through his eyes, but she doesn’t have time to fully study it before his features shutter again.

Luffy tilts his head. “Of course I do.”

Part of her wants to cheer, shout aha! because she knew it, dammit, but then he proceeds to barrel right over that.

“I love you too,” to which she freezes, and then: “And Usopp, and Sanji, I guess. You guys are my friends.”

She wants to scream.

But Patience Boasts by Augment [9k]

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Ughh i love the way this fic portray zoro and sanji's dynamic… anyways, lowkey wingman sanji!

Sanji and Zoro have very different love languages.

Kizuna by YokoHogawa [5k]

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

#nakamaship, basically 

Usopp carefully watches Luffy over the sandwich he is biting into, and he can’t help but worry.

Sanji has an anxiety problem.

Something wakes Zoro at the crack of dawn.

Half a step (into the sun) by TheOctopusofWriting [29k]

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Demon prince zoro, that's it, that's the point.

Zoro was the exiled prince of an island of demons. He spent the first portion of his life wandering from island to island without any place to really call home, that is until he follows a boy in a strawhat out to sea and finds the home he'd been looking for

to cut your teeth on love by freckledshoulderblades [10k]

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Smth smth the bond between captain and first mate...

Zoro meets Luffy and gives himself over wholeheartedly the instant Wadō is placed between his teeth again. Luffy meets Zoro and decides in a heartbeat that Zoro is his

Take Me Out to Sea by MiniPandaBuns [3k]

Rating: Teen And Up Audience

Just them being all sweet and wholesome<3

Luffy and Zoro take a pleasant little swim together, despite the fact that Luffy can't swim and Zoro told him no. Many times.

He just can't refuse his Captain. Even if he does, Luffy still wins, because he's just Luffy and that's how it goes.

everybody wants your time by dwaal [3k]

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Uhh abo au, omega zoro and alpha luffy, jealousy, bonded mates, making out, y knoww~

An unclaimed omega on the seas can be a liability. It's commonplace for captains to bite any of their crew to prevent any incidents, but the marks are usually temporary.

Zoro is intensely aware of this, as Boa Hancock proceeds to make herself at home on the arm of his captain's chair

it's an ambush! by tuhituhi [3k]

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Zoro meeting his bf's brothers for the first time!

Luffy's middle name should be B. for Blindside the way he's constantly taking Zoro off guard. Or maybe the D. stood for Devious, or Devil- any of them would fit, considering the Situations this man has put him through. OR

Zoro meets Luffy's brothers. Was he expecting this? Technically. Was he prepared for this?

Not in the slightest

end of summer (now i know) by taka0 [2k]

Rating: Mature

Just luffy being very sappy (and a tiny bit horny) about his zoro<3

Luffy loves all of Zoro while they lie in a hammock.

Ocean theology by swordsmans [40k]

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Reincarnation au, yearning and devotion, symbolism-

“Zoro—”

“Did you know?” he repeats, desperate, and Luffy just looks at him. And he wonders, then, how much of this has been preordained—how much of this is real, how much of this is him. How much of what he’s felt since they were wedged side-to-side in a shitty wooden boat on the East Blue has actually mattered, and how much has been the universe pressing him down into the mold of someone else's heart.

And then Luffy is gripping his horns, bringing his forehead down to meet his, repeating, “Zoro? Zoro?” like his name is a mantra, like he’s gone somewhere far away and gotten lost on his way back.

And Zoro blinks at him, then, and sees both of them at once—both of them—and he grips Luffy’s face in his own hands (claws) and presses his lips (violent, full of teeth) against his. Because this is who he has been waiting a thousand years for, the brightest and most beautiful of them all, the one thing he could never have—could never see, not if (Luffy, Joyboy, Nika) had made different (worse) choices—the thing that could never thrive in the darkness, just like he could never (has been unable to for centuries) survive without it—

let thy sword be thy tongue by queerweather [14k]

Rating: Mature

Sword language, sword personification, swords- zoro not being so normal about his captain, whats new?

It’s strangely exhilarating, imagining himself on his knees in front of Luffy, blindfolded. Like he really is getting executed this time. All of Zoro’s senses stand at attention and his mouth fills with saliva.

The flat of Kitetsu’s blade presses cold against Zoro’s cheek. “Zoro,” Luffy scolds. “I haven’t even done anything yet.”

.

.

.

Hindsight is twenty-twenty, and Zoro is not afraid of Luffy handling his swords; Zoro is afraid of how Luffy handling his swords might unravel him.

The only animal by batman [10k]

Rating: Explicit (sexual content)

 It's about roronoa zoro and how he pines for his captain

It wasn't until Kuraigana that he realised how the world had split into two kinds of touch: swords and hands.

Luffy's hands.

(In a stolen week between islands, Luffy touches Zoro again.)

Sunward bound by iffervescent [13k]

Rating: Explicit (sexual content, top zoro)

Ace luffy & sex positive luffy!!

Zoro's a pirate bounty hunter, which means he's used to going after the pirate he wants and getting them. Except this time the pirate he wants is his captain and now he has no fucking clue what to do.

Expressions by Leoporidae_Lagomorpha [2k]

Rating: Explicit (sexual content, top luffy)

Them being disgustingly in love whats new?, sexy times (plot what plot) 

Monkey D. Luffy knows, that despite popular opinion, Roronoa Zoro is a man of many expressions.

hanabi | 花火 by narramin [8k]

Rating: Explicit (sexual content, top luffy)

Just the captain and his first mate being silly while enjoying their date in wano (eventual smut)

firework /ˈfʌɪəwəːk/

noun

plural noun: fireworks

• a device containing gunpowder and other combustible chemicals which causes spectacular effects and explosions when ignited, used for display or in celebrations.

• a display of great skill or energy.

Luffy and Zoro finally reunite in Wano, visit a gambling den and go on a less than traditional festival date night.

a tale of two gods by grimsoul [6k]

Rating: Explicit (sexual content, top zoro, implied switching)

Sun of God x God of death. a fiery tryst between two gods

“Ne, Zoro, come with me,” Luffy said, giggling, pulling him closer. “You’re going to be a part of my court.”

Contrary to what most people believed, hell was a rather cold place. Zoro had been quite used to it, the lack of light, the vast glaciers, his body no longer as fragile as it was eons ago, and so a simple touch like this from Luffy, from the sun, made him feel like his flesh was scorched—melting away easily like winter in summer’s heat.

They were close, so close that their foreheads were almost touching, and despite the burn of it, Zoro didn’t push him away. He smirked, his one eye glowing just as red as Luffy’s.

“Don’t decide something on your own, idiot.”

running just to keep my hands on you by nevermordor [6k]

Rating: Explicit (sexual content, switching)

They are so competitive in pretty much everything lol

The thing they do is kind of like a game, because Luffy likes games, but it’s also kind of a competition because Zoro can’t not turn anything and everything into a competition. It doesn’t have a name and there are only two rules, because more than two would just be making things boring and overcomplicated.

1. Whoever takes out the most guys in a fight is the winner

2. Whoever is the loser has to do whatever the winner says

“Why’s it gotta be a whole game and stuff," Luffy says. "That’s gonna take too long.”

“It makes sex more fun," Zoro explains. "You gotta win it, you gotta earn it. Like anything good in life. Like pirate king or greatest swordsman.”

Luffy considers this.

One on one by EclecticIsMyMiddleName [6k]

Rating: Explicit (sexual content, top luffy) 

Post canon, domestic married luffy and zoro my beloved… they are so in love?? It's sickening

Zoro's just trying to get ready for the day, but Luffy has other plans

Prayers Carried on Waves Reach the Sun by anarchycox [8k]

Rating: Mature (sexual content, switching)

Sun god luffy & demon zoro ftw

Luffy is the sun god, Nika. Zoro is a demon. And his boyfriend. They make it work. On earth the Thousand Sunny is the ship of worship for the sun god, the crew Nika's priests. When they call for help, Luffy and Zoro go to their aid.

Luffy decides they should stay a while, and Zoro loves him enough to do so.

Being human is a pain and stupid, but for his Luffy, he'll endure it.

Ok i need to stop here cuz it's getting way too longgg, but i'm just so ill about the two of them sorry not sorry😭😭

[polarisbibliotheque]

Can You Hear The Rumble? - Vergil x Reader

Music Inspired Fics (Devil May Music) - Cirice, by Ghost

Pairing: Vergil x Reader

Summary: Everyone knew the kind of demon a hunter should be wary about is the one who plays with their victim's minds. You and Vergil were very proud on the outside - but how would it be when having to save each other on the inside for the first time?

TRIGGER WARNING: A lot of blood, cuts, bruises, scars and suffering on both Vergil and the reader's sides. The reader also struggles with perfection and self-loathing - in a "I'm never going to be a good person" kind of way, because I needed to get more intimate on the reader's part as well - and there are scenes with the reader covered in cuts and bleeding, though not self-imposed, it could be read like that. Those scenes are the reader's and Vergil's internal images of themselves. Reader and Vergil meet each other on their imperfections and the darkest parts of their souls, so BE WARNED. This might not be everyone's cup of tea and there are lots of potential triggers.

Author's Note: @tokkis-shelf asked me if Vergil's part of the Halloween special was inspired by Cirice, and here we are now. It is what kickstarted the song-fic requests! As with a lot of people, I think, Cirice is pretty personal to me.

In the video, it was so comforting to me seeing the black sheep being represented hahahaha and I guess that's why people love it so much. The part where they hold hands? I died, I'd never let go, I cry my soul out upon watching. (I did a very similar drawing to that scene when I was in school around 15 years ago, so it drop-kicked me out of my body xD)

Now, when writing this, I kept in mind that this song has a double meaning and can be quite comforting and quite manipulative at the same time - hence why I use the "can't you see that you're lost without me?" in two different situations, 'cause I think Cirice can be interpreted in so many ways and each person takes what they need from this song. I hope you guys like it!!

Plus, the song the reader and Dante sing at the end is The Power of Love, by Huey Lewis and The News

Cirice, by Ghost

“Can’t you see that you’re lost…?”

It happened every time Vergil walked in the darkness.

That voice in the back of his head, silently taunting him, the hiss of a quiet viper in the hopes of taking him back to the darkest parts of his soul. Quiet, lurking, whispering… Mundus always there, somewhere in the folds of his consciousness, guiding him back into the void – luring Vergil back into his shackles.

“Can’t you see that you’re lost without me?”

As if Vergil couldn’t belong anywhere else, as if his place was in Hell. After all he had been through, after all the sins he perpetrated, he believed wholeheartedly there was no hope for him at all – only a fool’s hope; only a glimmer of a wish he wasn’t as tainted as he was… A desire to not be such a monster as he was.

Pacing quietly through the empty cathedral, Vergil had already learned not to give in to those thoughts – to keep them at bay, as only a whisper in the darkness, of trickster voices that would always remind him of how inhuman he was.

It was times like this Vergil longed for the faint glimmer of the moon, or the warm ghostly light of a candle. It was easy to get lost in the dark, but a single ray of light could help through the direst of situations. That night, though, it seemed like the moon had fallen asleep behind the curtains of the clouds – Selene hiding her tears for her earthly lover in his eternal sleep.

None of you knew what that night entailed – you weren’t even certain what you were dealing with. That was the reason why Lady strutted in the Devil May Cry, not too fond of taking a job she didn’t know if it was up to her abilities.

“Well, looks like I have a new one for you to pay your debt, big guy!” Her singsong voice interrupted the ambience of the jukebox; Lady entering the shop with Kalina Ann and all.

“Eh, I’m never gonna be free of my debt, Lady, let’s be honest.” Dante sighed, putting his feet down and throwing his magazine across the table, shooting her a serious glare. “But things have been borin’ lately, so one of your odd jobs’ not gonna hurt. Whaddya have for me?”

“You talk as if I never help you enough to maintain this place.” She lifted one eyebrow, approaching the big desk at the middle of the shop.

“Gotta give the woman credit, Dante. Last month’s bills were on her.” You shrugged as you had finally come out of your shower, happy to see Lady around, still drying your hair with the towel as you went down the stairs.

“See? Someone who has a bit of common sense.” Her smile was nothing short of devilish as she gestured towards you.

“You know where you are, Lady. ‘Common sense’ isn’t much of a thing in this household.” You greeted her by quickly blowing her a kiss while passing by, making your way towards the couch where Vergil was quietly reading.

“Ey, you’re hurtin’ my feelings like that.” Dante put one of his hands over his heart, laughing alongside you as you kept on your way. “But fine. I’ll give ya that, Lady. So, what’s up? What job do you wanna throw at me this time?”

“I am not throwing it at you.” And there it was: you could always see when Dante stroke a nerve when Lady got defensive and with that fiery stare on her multicolored eyes. “If you wanna do it, great, if you don’t, I can deal with it myself just fine. I’m here to be a good friend since you can barely afford all that pizza you keep stuffing yourself with!”

As you sat by Vergil’s side, you both exchanged a telling glare. Just like you, Vergil was used to observing people. Granted, he didn’t know Lady as much as Dante or even you, but he did know her since he was very young. That fiery, easy-to-anger personality had been there since they first met at the Temen-ni-gru – and Vergil argued it was one of Lady’s traits that would never change.

Something he was quite pleased with, if he had to be honest with himself. It was a good trait for a human demon hunter like her. Dante always praised human’s hearts and particularly their love and empathy – Vergil praised their burning anger that made them unconquerable in the direst of circumstances.

“Jeez, alright, alright, don’t shoot me!” Dante raised his hands as if he was at gunpoint, making you wheeze quietly. Vergil side-eyed you for a while – half judging, half holding his own laugh. “It’s not like I have much of a choice, do I?”

“Humpf.” Lady rolled her eyes and took a slice of pizza from the box resting on the desk, pointing at Dante with it right after. “You know I wouldn’t bring you something if it wasn’t important.”

“Actually, you would.” With those words, Dante rested his arms crossed on the table – all the while, you and Vergil watched it all as if it was a show. Who needed a TV when you had those two? “But you’re bein’ too dodgy ‘bout it, babe. What’s goin’ on?”

“I got a call from a priest in a city nearby.” Lady’s answer was uncharacteristically quiet, followed by a bite from the pizza while she seemed pensive and in any hurry to chew it. “I’ve done some jobs there, know the guy, he’s nice. All the times he called me, it was always a quick, good-paying job. He said some weird things have been happening at the cathedral for the last couple of weeks.”

“Not to sound mean, but there’s always somethin’ strange happenin’ at churches.” Dante’s eyes carried a bit of skepticism: ‘weird things’ didn’t always entail a job for the Devil May Cry – and it usually ended with all of you hunting a rogue raccoon or something.

“I know. But this guy, he doesn’t get scared easy, ok? He’s one of those types of priests who’ll try to shoot down a couple of demons with a shotgun and, if that doesn’t work, he gives me a call.” Those words, though, made you and the Spardas raise your eyebrows. Indeed, it was a rare type of priest, but a good one to keep as acquaintance. “He said the cathedral is increasingly quiet, even from noises outside, with occasional distant noises that are not done by any of those who live there. After it all started, the other priests reported having weird nightmares, of being chased by something in the dark, inside the cathedral – this thing whispering things they can’t understand. Alright if it happened to one or two, but soon all of them started waking up in the middle of the night with similar nightmares – and, catch this, the higher ups of the clergy didn’t tell the common priests about it, but they all reported the very same dream.” Those words caught everyone’s attention. Vergil finally closed his book and leaned forward, paying attention to Lady’s retelling of the priest’s misfortunes. “The priest has been trying to figure out what’s going on, but some old books appear to go missing from the library, only to re-appear as if nothing has happened. Some books are missing pages, something that never happened before. He also said the inside of the cathedral has been getting darker and darker as the weeks go by. As if something is approaching – his words, not mine.”

Vergil immediately furrowed his brows and seemed to turn into an ice sculpture right by your side. You risked a glance, finding him with his usual dark aura – pensive, somber and quiet; hunter’s eyes showing themselves in a matter of seconds.

“Rare are the creatures in Hell in search for knowledge…” He muttered loud enough for his brother and Lady to turn their attention to him. “But those who do, are usually among the worst. Haunting noises, torn books, nightmares, dead silence and total darkness…”

“What? You think those Hell Piranhas came out of their pit?” Dante’s question had a bit of fun in the words, but his eyes were serious and he didn’t allow his lips to smile.

“Could be. Could also be a demon trying to mimic them to hide something else.”

“Hell Piranhas?” You and Lady didn’t need a cue to ask at the very same time. Neither of you had ever heard of that – and both of you had heard of a lot.

“This is not their name, but it is how Dante calls them since we were kids.” Vergil almost sighed in response.

“How we both called ‘em. Mister smart-pants over here isn’t that much better than lil’ ol’ me.” Dante winked at both of you, making you giggle quietly in return. “They’re kinda like illusion demons, but they like stayin’ in the darkness and gatherin’ knowledge. Usually work for someone bigger, though.”

“And even if they don’t, they swallow up all their knowledge and that is dangerous in itself. Afterwards, they feed from the victims they have been toying for so long.” Vergil continued Dante’s thought, ignoring his brother’s previous words. The more you didn’t think about what Dante had said about him, the better – for Vergil couldn’t deny it. “They hunt in packs, and the more victims, the more powerful they become. Some call them the Pit Deceivers, others call them the Lie Weavers…”

“You call them Hell Piranhas.” You concluded bluntly, making Vergil stare at the horizon with emptiness in his eyes – he could say all he wanted, flex all his demonic knowledge, you heard the Piranhas and now you’d never forget it.

“I never heard of them.” Lady had her eyebrows furrowed, searching her memory for some story like that.

“They either don’t leave the pit that much or not many humans survive to tell the story. That’s why.” Dante pointed at a great, old book Vergil had left on one of the tables a long time ago and now it was its official resting place. “You can find it only in the likes of the Codex Daemonica.”

“So either we have them around, or it’s something else. Something bigger. Right?” As you asked, Vergil only agreed with his head as the attentions turned to you. “Or something mimicking the Piranhas.” And Vergil had to sigh at your addition. He would never have peace again. “The mimic or the master, what kind of demon would the Piranhas answer to? If they are that obscure, I take it their existence is more of a niche knowledge in Hell rather than a common information.”

“On that, you are correct…” Vergil murmured in response, falling back into his pensive demeanor. You knew he would be lost for a while.

“See? Good thing I brought this for you, then.” Lady waved dismissively at Dante, but you could sense a little edge in her playful voice. Dealing with big things was fine, same as dealing with cruel demons and the ones that played the big-scary-one persona. Unknown demons were another kind of monster – one only Dante and Vergil used to deal with. “Plus, they always pay well.”

“Eh, I won’t be seein’ much of that money, if I know ya well.” Dante scoffed, having a small smile hidden in the corner of his lips; his tone and demeanor, though, were quite somber and you knew the red devil was taking it seriously.

“If you don’t mind, Dante, I would like to take over this one.” Vergil finally declared while getting up from the couch. “I know some of the hellish creatures who might make use of the Weavers or mimic them.”

“Fine for me, I’m needin’ some time to rest.” Dante sighed, but looked right back at you while Vergil rested his book on the big Devil May Cry desk. “But I’m gonna feel a lot better with someone around to keep an eye on ‘im, pretty thing.”

“Well, I didn’t intend on letting you guys deal with this all by yourselves anyway.” You got up from the couch, immediately receiving a glare from Vergil. “I’m going, blue devil, whether you want it or not. I want to get acquainted with these Piranhas.”

Vergil only closed his eyes, letting out the longest and most regretful sigh you ever heard in your life.

And there you were – although Vergil lost track of you quite a while ago. He knew the stirrings rippling through his heart when you were in danger; and being the fierce human you were, Vergil wasn’t worried about having you search for the demons in the cathedral.

There was, though, a slight uneasiness. That voice echoing in the darkest parts of his soul, it always came as an omen – causing nothing but destruction, inside or outside of himself. Vergil never could really say which one would be, but both were devastating.

“Veeeeergil…”

His steps came to a dry halt in the middle of the cathedral. The night outside the colorful stained-glass windows was pitch black, robbing the colors of their warmth and light – the fire on the candles, long dead in that cold night. The whisper that crept to his ears, like stark chalk on a chalkboard, dragged itself through the marble floor and took a hold of his soul in its clutches.

It was a different kind of sound – different from the ones inside himself, calling him to the darkness. It was from the outside… The Lie Weavers. Slowly coming up, finding him as their next victim. He was close to one of the places they were certainly lurking in the shadows, patiently waiting for someone they could consume.

Vergil never feared the darkness. Tightening his grip around Yamato, his steps resumed his way, approaching the places in the cathedral the faint light of the night could barely touch. Those demons should have known their end was near, and he was the harbinger of their demise – he expected all kinds of trickery, of resistance, of fight from them.

He did not expect to hear a familiar voice, filled with uncertainty.

“Vergil…?”

Halting his steps once more, this time his silvery eyes lost their predatorial gaze as his heart jumped in his chest – even if for a slight second.

“Mother?”

His answer was but a whisper before he was swallowed by darkness.

*

When engaging with illusion demons, one should be aware of not falling into their element: when engulfed by it, those demons were more powerful than expected, able to subdue even the strongest of foes. Breaking from their control required mental and emotional discipline rather than brute force.

It was a slight second – a foolish slip from his human soul, disarmed by the trickery of Eva’s voice – and Vergil was surrounded by a sea of darkness and turmoil. His heart stirred with anger towards himself for being such a child, a vulnerable stupid child, tricked by a puppet of something his heart missed so much.

Eva was long dead. There was no demon able to bring her back. And he would never see her again. All that logic was tossed aside in a spark of a second by his stupid human heart, trembling upon hearing her speak his name again. Granted, Vergil only heard his mother in his dreams, barely remembering how her voice sounded in reality, and this time he heard outside himself – but he should have seen it coming. Illusion demons, trickster demons, cruel demons… They all relied on the barely closed scars inside his damned human soul.

Vergil could always count on them to re-open those wounds, making him bleed as much as he did on the floor of that cursed cemetery so many years ago – and he was a fool to fall for it after he had been through so much.

“Vergil… Can you hear me…?”

“I can, you damned deceiver. You can stop these theatrics – mimicking my dead mother will not affect me.” His voice cut through the dark like the sharpest of ice, his predatorial gaze back into his silver eyes.

“I… Don’t understand you, son. I cannot find you.” Her voice had a tinge of sorrow and desperation – but it was exactly like Eva’s voice. Vergil remembered it with a tinge of gold, probably a result of the haze of nostalgia, but today it was grounded and melancholic – perhaps, that was how Eva had always sounded… He just didn’t remember it. “I can’t find you. You aren’t home.”

“I haven’t been home for a long while.” Vergil didn’t even try to hide the growl that raised from his chest as he argued with that creature. He was used to having a puppet of his mother parading in front of him to hurt his human soul even more, but that was already getting on his nerves. Taunting him about the fact his mother ran to find him that fateful night wasn’t part of the usual games those filthy demons played – and to say they were honing his wrath was an understatement. “And I will never be back.”

“I… I cannot see you, Vergil. Where are you…? Why…?” He could hear the weeping in her voice, faint sobbing while the desperation made her words tremble. Vergil raised his head in the darkness, holding his own heart not to quiver: she wasn’t real and it was all a gimmick to affect him. He would not be affected. He was stronger than that. “Why couldn’t I save you? Those demons they… They hurt you, didn’t they? Oh, my child! My son! They hurt you and I could do nothing! I couldn’t be your mother!”

“Enough with this, filthy, hellish creature!” His voice finally exploded from his chest, roaring in the dark and echoing through the void, finding only silence. “You have no right to desecrate my mother’s memory like this! Shut your putrid mouth and stop with your rancid lies!”

The glint of the Yamato being unsheathed made the darkness recoil for a split second, only to envelop the Dark Slayer once more. His grip was tight, his eyes fiercely looking for his first opponent to direct a very well-placed judgement cut that could end all those creatures with just one swing of his hand. Vergil had enough and all the patience he carried in his being wouldn’t be enough to stop him from overkilling those demons – he just had to know where to direct his wrath.

“Don’t say those words, Vergil… You are not… Not like this.” Her voice still trembled, and his hand was still certain around Yamato. Vergil knew quite well at that state he was a weapon of mass destruction, he just had to find his opponent. His soul was screaming for him to do that, to put a stop to all that mockery. “You are good… You are my son.”

Vergil would have sliced that demon into a thousand million pieces without flinching, even if it took the form of his mother – but his eyes widened as a soft, warm hand touched his face. In all those years being taunted by demons, being tricked and mocked, seeing so many puppets of Eva, Sparda and Dante, none of them had touched him… And none of them genuinely felt like them.

It had been so many lost years he hadn’t felt his mother’s touch – last time, she could cup his entire face, thumb lovingly caressing his innocent eyebrows, but now her thumb could only reach his cheekbones. Nevertheless, it felt like her: not like a golden, nostalgic lost memory of how she felt, but exactly like Eva’s hands, even with the slight roughness of her continuous gardening.

“It took me so long to find you… I am so sorry.”

“You are not my mother.”

“Don’t say that.” Her answer was a sorrowful whisper, her thumb now carefully caressing his sharp cheekbone. Vergil closed his eyes, unable to move, convincing himself all of that wasn’t real and not allowing his heart to sway – forcing his arms to remain frozen by his side, fighting the urge to embrace her. Reminding himself: his mother was dead, killed while trying to save him, a long time ago, and nothing could bring her back. “Your heart hasn’t hardened as much as not to recognize me. You…” Her voice once more became soft, as if trying to do the same with his soul. “You are not a monster… You are my son, my Vergil.”

With those words, Eva’s hand was finally met with a tear – melting the ice from those silvery eyes.

*

There was an impending storm rumbling inside your chest.

Whenever that turmoil took ahold of your heart, you knew Vergil was in trouble. You had just finished checking your side of the cathedral, finding some things out of the ordinary but no demons, when the waves became aggressive in your chest. Your steps were already taking you to meet him, but you found yourself walking even hastier – the sound, though, eaten by the shadows that seemed to only grow around you.

Neither of you had calm seas of feelings: they usually raged like a maelstrom of emotions you could barely get through without some destruction – be it internal or external. But there was a certain note of melancholy and desperation in your heart at that moment that made you know Vergil was hurting – and that hurting, you knew quite well.

It was almost ironic how you apparently despised each other at the beginning, but after a while you came to understand; that aversion was there because you, in a certain way, were a mirror of each other. You could see in him the traits in your soul you disliked the most, and Vergil did see in you the same thing – those traits, however, were the same ones that brought you together, and made both you and Vergil feel seen and understood for the first time in your lives.

He didn’t judge your sins, as you didn’t judge his. To your eyes, he was never a monster, and to his, you could never be as crooked as you thought you were. You found each other in imperfection and, in that, you managed to talk and feel on the same level – after that, every feeling of admiration, care and love was easy to blossom.

You understood that storm, that thunder rumbling inside your chest at that very moment. You could feel it exactly the way he felt – and you knew Vergil needed help… Even if he would never say so himself.

You couldn’t hear or see him, though. You found yourself exactly at his area of patrol in the cathedral, but there was no clue as where your blue devil had gone – and for him to completely disappear, imposing presence and all, was quite an achievement in itself. The air was stiff, heavy as if the windows had never been opened, eating up any sound from the inside and the outside. The darkness was heavier than the one you had previously patrolled, shadows allowing only a few glimpses of the opulent decoration and the path in front of you – although, you couldn’t see more than a few meters beyond your feet.

If you couldn’t trust your sight or your hearing to find him, you could trust your heart: the storm would guide you. Closing your eyes, you allowed your feelings to take over, following with your footsteps in the direction you could hear his soul calling.

Those shadow creatures wouldn’t be able to hide him from you: no matter what happened or where you found yourselves, you would always be able to feel Vergil’s presence and find him in the darkest of hours.

And as the thunder in your chest cracked violently, your feet came to a halt and you opened your eyes.

Right in front of you, there was only darkness. Not like in the shadows that took the cathedral little by little, but pitch-black darkness, that no light could cast aside. To enter it would mean to be completely bare: vulnerable, lost, without guidance, naked – but the screaming in your soul made it very clear Vergil was in there.

Contrary to your lover, you were afraid of the dark. You always preferred to have a little light by your side, for you never knew what could be lurking alongside you, ready to pounce and drag you to certain suffering and death. You protected yourself by being forever vigilant, as you always did – a trait that exhausted you, yes, but luckily, in the last few years, you had Vergil around to keep a light by you when your body started giving out.

For that reason, you would never fear entering the darkness for him.

And with a deep breath, your bold steps took you inside the dark.

*

Your feet were cold, bare, stumbling over a sticky floor. Even if your eyes could see only darkness, you felt the freezing air of that night slicing your skin: you were shirtless and something was hurting… Oozing. The cold wind mixed with a faint warmness that leaked from the open wounds on your skin.

Blood. You were bleeding.

Your arms immediately wrapped around you – those scars, they were showing. They never showed before.

Running your hands quickly over your body, you could feel the warm blood slipping through your fingers; some wounds barely holding themselves closed while others still poured as in the day they were created.

That was the version of yourself you used to fiercely hide. None of those wounds were physical, none of them could be seen… But whenever you looked in the mirror, you saw them there, under your skin, under your soul, quietly resting until you couldn’t hide them anymore.

“You are lost…”

It was always the same voice, of something dark, something inside you that could break your soul if you didn’t shove it back into the darkness like you always did. That was why you were afraid; that was why Vergil always kept a faint glow by your side whenever you couldn’t hold yourself together. The dark was dangerous to you – to both of you.

“You are lost without me…”

“I can survive quite well without you…!” You growled to the darkness, keeping that part of yourself at bay. The part that gave in to the pain, that bathed in the blood and didn’t want to get up… And the part that would bathe and rise in rage, making you survive at great cost to those around you.

You were past that. And you didn’t need that to survive. You didn’t have to survive, you could live.

“Can’t you see that you’re lost…?”

“Vergil!” Your scream was a roar in the dark, looking for the one you plunged into the darkness to find. You wouldn’t give in to the trickery of those Piranhas – and you would get Vergil out of there.

They would learn they shouldn’t fear only the son of Sparda: they should also fear you.

“You think you can find him…?” After the mischievous ethereal voice questioned, you heard a giggle rippling around your feet as you stumbled on the sticky floor to find your lover. “You think you are that good? You think you aren’t a monster?”

You furrowed your brows, doing your best to ignore the voices. You knew it was that part inside of you that always taunted how broken you were, how imperfect your soul was. For the longest time you believed there was nothing good in you, nothing to save you from a life of loneliness, until you crossed paths with Vergil.

He was broken too – and he would never judge the things you did to survive your lethal wounds.

“Vergil! Can you hear me?! I’m here to find you!”

“How chivalrous, how heroic! What are you trying to accomplish?” The giggles pooled around your feet, threatening to drag you inside that pool of viscous darkness. “Trying to prove yourself? You’re never going to be perfect. You’re a black sheep, an outcast, remember? The likes of you aren’t heroes.”

“Oh, I’m no hero…” You growled back, fighting against the things trying to pull you back; fighting against the pain of the freezing cold and warmness of blood. “I’m a fucking fighter. You’re messing with the wrong kind of monster, fucking Hell Piranhas.”

“Piranhas…?” A faint whisper in the dark broke whatever control those things were trying to have over your body, starting at your feet. It was Vergil’s whisper – followed by a louder speaking tone. “Y/n! I can feel you, where are you?!”

“Trying to find you!” You screamed back, immediately dragging your feet towards Vergil. You couldn’t see him, but you could feel where he was – and there was nothing those demons could do against that.

The darkness seemed to shift for a couple of seconds. You couldn’t understand what was happening, but you saw a faint, ghostly pale glow in the dark – almost imperceptible, but your heart knew, you could finally see Vergil.

And, in return, he could see you. Moving his feet, Vergil dragged heavy shackles through the floor, screeching in a horrid, soul scratching sound as he willed his body to move towards you. You could hear him grunting with the effort, another set of chains being dragged as Vergil moved his arms – slowly, but surely, wearing all of his strength to get to you.

You felt the viscous ripples of the floor creeping up your legs, almost on your knees, doing their best to pull you away – back into the darkness, back to the taunting voices, to the doubt, the hurt, the self-loathing.

“Vergil! Let me hear your voice! You’re still there, right?!”

“Yes. I am always here.” His answer came with grunts of effort, barely above the noise of the chains screeching around him.

The darkness shifted again, and his form became even more visible, as yours did to him – followed by a scream that rumbled in his chest, Vergil managed to get even closer. That made something spark inside yourself, that thundering storm breaking in your soul cracking in a scream that broke the insidious tentacles holding you back and making you lunge forward.

Once again, the glow you diffused only to each other seemed to get stronger as the darkness wavered.

“Y/n…” He growled once more, the shackles screaming on the floor as he reached out to you.

“Vergil…!” You reached out in return, barely making out the form of his fingers in the dark.

As you were almost touching each other’s hands, the heavy, muffling darkness faltered once more. You could finally see one another, as you were in that godforsaken place.

Vergil was shirtless, his body covered in wounds – new and old – bleeding profusely. His silvery eyes were red, sunken in deep shadow, surrounded by a deep purple mist on his dry skin. You could see his bones under his pale skin covered in so many lacerations you wouldn’t even know where to start healing him. His knuckles were battered, showing the flesh underneath, as well as his wrists covered by heavy iron shackles – wounds from fighting against them for so long. His hands were still long and elegant, but bony and covered in bruises.

You had never seen Vergil so hurt, so broken, so… Vulnerable.

In return, his eyes took in shock the vision of you: as shirtless as him, as battered and wounded as he was. Even if not locked in the shackles he wore for so long in Hell, you walked barefoot leaving a trail of blood behind you. Those scars, those wounds, those bruises… He knew they were there, but he had never seen those. You looked weak and tired, bloodshot eyes under dry skin, as if you hadn’t slept in ages… And those things you fought so much to conceal, now crystal clear in front of him.

Those were the scars you carried inside yourselves. The wounds you had to fight against every day – that you had to try to heal, even if sometimes it seemed impossible. The things you would never show, but, somehow, you managed to sense it in each other… Now you could see it, clear as a bright night.

And, even if you wouldn’t admit to yourselves, those were the very same breaking thunders that would keep you moving – fiercely fighting, fiercely surviving.

As you took in each other’s internal selves, Vergil’s silvery eyes finally found yours.

A loud thundering noise shook the floor underneath your feet twice, as your hearts rumbled alongside the devastating sound. You lunged forward, holding Vergil’s hand as if your life depended on it. Never breaking your eye contact, Vergil held your hand with the strength you would expect of the legendary Dark Slayer. You made each other stronger, and there was nothing that could come between you now.

His shackles immediately screeched back, pulling Vergil violently away from you. At the same time, you were grabbed by the viscous darkness – your knees, your legs, your abdomen, your arms. It pulled you back with vicious strength, doing its best to drag you away from him – back into the darkness.

“Don’t let me go!” You screamed back, tightening your grip around his bony hand.

“I will never let go!” He growled, doing the same, trying to drag his body forward – failing to notice you willed yourself towards him as he pulled you into his arms. Those silvery eyes never moved away from yours.

“You are lost…! Lost…!”

The voices chanted and screeched around you, doing their best to drag you apart. For a moment, your hand slipped and you let out a desperate scream, hurting your lungs as you were almost pulled back into the void. Vergil’s cry resembled a roar as he willed his body to move and tightened his grip in a way he didn’t hold even Yamato.

He hadn’t held his brother’s hand once. This time he wouldn’t make the same mistake. This time, he would hold you even if that damned the both of you to the darkest pits of Hell.

“Can’t you see…? Can’t you see that…?”

“I am lost…!” You barked back to the voices, still staring into Vergil’s eyes, trying to catch your breath while your lungs stung as if you were inhaling a thousand knives.

As Vergil looked into your eyes, though, he knew exactly what you were going to say – and he could safely say it was the very same thing he struggled to find the words to.

“Without you.” His answer came in a dark tone, ragged from the effort he too made to be able to hold your hand.

The thunder rumbled twice again – the voices shrieked and you suddenly found yourselves being launched into each other’s arms as the forces that bind you broke into a million pieces.

Vergil’s arms wrapped around you, one of his hands holding your head close to his chest, as you wrapped yours around his waist, keeping him as close as you could. His head rested on top of yours, and you kept your eyes closed – washing away the blood above his heart with the tears that streamed down your face.

“Don’t ever hide from me.” Vergil’s voice was uncharacteristically shaky, somber but reassuring. You had never been so vulnerable in front of him – and even upon seeing you like that, his reaction was to take you in his arms, to welcome you. “I’m not afraid of the dark.”

“And I’m not afraid of your darkness.” You tightened your arms around his cold, bony body as you felt tears running through your hair. “I can see beyond your glimmer, and I’m not afraid of what’s in the dark.” Your voice shook as you took a deep breath and Vergil’s arms held you even closer – his body shaking with the tears falling from his eyes. “It’s you. And I’m never afraid of you.”

“Neither am I of you.”

His answer was but a whisper – a whisper enough to break the darkness into a memory to be kept away in the deepest pits of Hell.

I can feel the thunder that’s breaking in your heart I can see through the scars inside you

*

*

*

*

“You killed the Piranhas from Hell with the power of love?”

Vergil wanted to crawl into a hole and disappear. Or die. Or both.

Probably both.

The whole crew was there as you and Vergil never came back from the job as quickly as expected – and when you did, it looked like you hadn’t slept in days.

The priest was more than happy with the result of your work – even though you never discovered why the Weavers decided to come out of hiding nor what they wanted. The congregation was just happy they were gone and the whole reason behind it would be a long-term thing for the Devil May Cry to work on – or to keep an eye on; maybe something bigger was approaching.

You and Vergil didn’t feel like going back to the shop, though. When you were hurt physically, things were very much ok to deal with, but when the wounds were emotional… You needed time for yourselves.

Unlike his brother, Vergil was a little more responsible with his money – and you, a lot more than the two. You managed to find somewhere to spend a few nights… Which involved the both of you talking out everything you felt and saw. It was harrowing at first, something neither of you were versed in and honestly were terrified of, but it eventually brought you even closer together.

So, to say you had defeated the Lie Weavers with the power of love was something that killed Vergil inside.

And you could almost see his internal self, glaring at you with a ‘really, after all of this you say this kind of foolishness’ look in his sad, silvery eyes, as Lady stared at both of you and made the question everyone was thinking.

“Yep. Power of love, it’s a curious thing.” You shrugged, making Vergil physically groan by your side while Dante slapped his table with a huge grin on his face.

“Make a one man weep, make another man sing! Hell yeah, Back To The Future, babe!” He winked back at you as you smiled in response.

“Of all the people you could end up dating, Vergil…” Trish sat on Dante’s desk, crossing her long legs while sporting a devilish smile on her rosy lips. It was interesting how her voice could never really sound like Eva’s. “It had to be someone who references the same songs as your brother.”

“Alas, fate plays many games…” Vergil rolled his eyes, but as they rested on you, there was a vulnerability you saw only once in that pitch black darkness. “But it is kind enough to give us what we need.”

No one ever really understood what he meant, but Dante was the only one who managed to see something inside his brother’s silvery eyes that could only reflect in yours – and that made him genuinely smile.

Indeed, you would never be the romance of a fairy tale book or a romantic comedy – but you could see what lied beyond each other’s scars; taking a glimpse at the worst of each other without fear and finding whatever light was left inside. You could understand – and that was much more than most lovers in the world would ever have.

[sigmasoyboy]

[On the exploration of homo-sapiens' obsession with vaginal intercourse.]

A short drabble I wrote about Coeus' disappointing first time (bad enough not to try again for almost 20 years lol). It finishes a bit abruptly but I do like most of it enough to share.

cw: body dysmorphia, overly medical language, explicit description of bad sex, kinda cringe superiority complex

He squeezed his nearly non-existent breasts, nascent mounds looking almost out of place on a body stripped of every last gram of baby fat; sharp bones jutting from taut looking-skin as if it was simply pulled over the frame of his skeleton. No hips, no ass, only the ever so slight amount of fatty tissue under his navel could hint at the sex he was thrusted into; nature trying her best to shield what society deemed to be the fair gender’s most valuable asset. She had yet to lose against him then, his distaste for everything brought by a simple assessment at birth over some parts failling to migrate or develops not yet linked to his biology; the discomfort with having his pitiful chest fondled like this simply chalked up to a shame he didn’t really feel about their size. Surely, the gesture would feel less silly, less thoughtlessly pornographic had they been bigger, even though he had never wished so before despite being likened to an ironing board a few time as an attempt to rouse something -humor, or perhaps inferiority- out of the cold, flippant teenager who had joined the university. No worries, surely they’d come in, had they say as if to wash themselves of any eventual hurt they might have caused with this teasing remarks, as if it wasn’t the reason they were cast in the first place. To humble him, shoot this bratty little girl down a peg.

He hoped they didn’t. He had started bleeding long ago, though infrequently: surely his body would not go through a sudden spurt and finally give him the womanly figure expected of his chromosomes.

If it was going to, it hadn’t decided to kick in as he dipped his toes into his twenties, finding them no different from his adolescence save from a newfound curiosity that arose with older colleagues talking amongst them, looking almost startled when remembering his presence in the lab. Apologetic. Embarrassed. As if, despite his now long gangly limbs, he remained a teenage girl, not to be spoilt by crude topics; enough for a few to reject him, perhaps finding in the age difference a good excuse to avoid fucking the ugly chick. He was no stranger to the idea that he was far from the feminine ideal of beauty, with the beak-like nose standing in the middle of his gaunt face, framed by a wild, unbrushed mess of hair that had been seldom cut in his life. His older sister made sure he knew, admitting defeat early as he was, in her own words, a lost case. He had no hint of elegance, no wish to please and appease those around him and not even much interest in personal hygiene.

It’s also possible that his propositioning was at fault for the awkward refusals. Even the one who was attempting, still, to find something to grab on his chest, had shuddered at his request; not one of arousal, but more a full body cringe at the blunt, cold wording. In spite of the subject, there was nothing exciting in the language he had used, his nonchalance tasting more of ennui than of a casual, no fuss attitude towards sex: his virginity held no sex-appeal offered this way, not even with the burden of silly feelings that some men seemed so afraid might bloom behind his ribcage rendered null by the clear scientific curiosity itching to be relieved.

Perhaps men, even men of science, were more romantic than they thought. It seemed so in the way his partner for this experiment insisted kissing would help get in the mood, cheesily knitting his fingers in his before he inserted himself into him. Did his heart flutter when he reflexively squeezed his hand as his entire body fought the intrusion, hissing through teeth as he tried to do as he was told and relax in a shaky breath, assured that it would start feeling good soon in between whispers of how tight he was ? Oh he could feel it, painfully so, a startled sob managing to crawl it’s way out of his thinly pressed lips, his breath stolen by the pain tearing him in half. It was no lie that this had nothing to do with the scant fingers that had explored his insides before, finding a little discomfort at first too but easing in the strange if unfulfilling sensation, tentatively curling digits brushing a sensitive spot; the one he thought would bring him over the edge if only he didn’t have to split his focus on both his hands and the coiling feeling pooling into his guts. But it seemed like the appendage was ramming into him in all the wrong places, hitting the back of his cervix without ever grazing that spot. The more it went on, the more his mind tried wandering away from the pounding pain and the growing irritation of his tender flesh, sharpening his focus on every other detail. The squelching sound, the labored off-puttingly warm breath above him, the mingling of perspiration, uncomfortably wet skin on skin contact, the long strands of hair clinging everywhere trapped between his back and the rapidly moistening bedsheets, pulled ever so irritatingly with each thrust, that fucking hand still kneading the surplus of fatty tissue surrounding useless mammary glands and the rapidly cooling path of the tears that had spilled over, tickling his tragus, a mess of fluids and grunts and too many thoughts. He could not fathom that this was it, the thing that made society go round under all the pretense of virtue: even the pain had become a boring thud in the back on his mind, barely registered if not for the soreness of his clenched jaw.

He was spared putting an end to the experiment, something he had yet to ever do, the data put above all else, even suffering, even boredom, even disappointment. His volunteer stopped suddenly, quivery, a strange pitiful whine escaping him as his fingers dug into the pale skin of his breast, riding the very last wave of what must have been the famed big orgasm he was still waiting for; one that surely had to surpass any shaky climax he could ever bring himself to justify the rave around coitus. He was as relieved as he was confused to feel the offending member slip out of himself, condom ever so slightly stained pink quickly removed, tied and discarded into a tissue: that guy had always been a bit of a clean freak, even outside of the lab. He couldn’t understand how he justified the mess of bodily fluids integral to the act to his near germophobic obsession with cleanliness, so much so that when he laid back next to him, he couldn’t help his perplexity. “That’s it ?” was the offending statement, one that made the older man huff and lose his words for a minute, having not even regained his breath yet, before claiming that this was as good as it got, annoyance clearly souring his afterglow.

Despite this affirmation, the wound in his ego was deep enough for him to request a transfer almost as quickly as it took for the slightly bruised crescents to fade from his chest.

Proper scientific method would require more data before forming a conclusion, but he wasn’t keen on putting himself through this waste of time again; his leading hypothesis was that perhaps his higher intellect yet again barred him from finding enjoyment in something his lesser peers were infatuated with, his brain needing more stimulation than the average person and thus being better suited for quick relief to quench his needs when they arised. Perhaps his body was ill-shaped to accomodate for a phallus, a little mistake in his biological engineering, yet another natural rejection of his sex, born not to be penetrated or bear children but to pursue matters of the mind. Call it pelvic floor dysfunction or something else, he found no will to remedy his failing as a woman; if anything he leaned into it, getting rid of the puny, pointless breasts only a couple of year later, not regretting one second that they had been fondled by someone else only once, bar his surgeon’s much less displeasing palpation during his first appointment. The smooth expanse of his chest interrupted only by the still sore scar running across felt much less out of place, devoid of any superficial details. One step removed from the other mammals he failed to understand.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for debating hiring outside help for my husband and I's house because we can't keep up alone?

For context: My (26 Fae ftm) husband (28M) live very happy and healthily together. While I'm unable to medically transition due to a bunch of reasons we'll get to, he has been nothing but a solid rock in my life and the one person that has always been on my side. Through dragging me out of an abusive household to helping me with my chronic illness, he's been an absolute angel despite dressing like the devil himself (he's goth). So I don't want any hate on him.

He is ADHD and I'm Autistic. Yes, hello, we are that couple~♡ This does cause us some issues tho as he is unmedicated and I'm just struggling in general with sensory issues for certain chores. So far we keep each other some what afloat, having him do chores that my sensory issues can't handle and my doing ones he can't focus through.

However, as previously mentioned I'm chronically ill. I won't get into many details but it's basically I'm internally bleeding at random intervals. And before people think I'm talking about just my period, no it's so bad that I have once had to go to the ER for a blood transfusion due to this internal bleeding and had times when I was bleeding for over 4 months straight.

My husband and I because of this condition are pretty much struggling financially. I can work but it makes me extremely fatigued since I'm essentially working with constant Anemia. It gets bad enough some days that he can't wake me up without over an hour of effort, even after I've slept 10hrs. The fatigue is REALLY bad. He works just as much as I do, sometimes more because his work is so shortstaffed and he likes to pick up extra shifts to try and save up for the surgery that would hopefully fix everything.

This has culminated though in us both being extremely exhausted near 24/7 for the last year-ish but we have finally hit a break. I recently got a huge pay increase (nearly $200 a week increase) so we are hopeful for the first time in months. We're starting to pay down my extreme medical debt and being able to just go get dinner when he doesn't want to cook.

Here's where I may be kind of TA... Despite this hope, my condition recently did get worse. I've now gone another 3 months still bleeding and having to suffer my Anemia symptoms and medication. This has caused me to fall massively behind on what should be my chores, and while my husband doesn't begrudge me it, it has caused our home to start becoming very, very unhygienic. As someone who grew up with a clean freak mother, it kinda upsets me. He's focusing more and more on me and less on the house so even his chores are falling behind too.

None of that is his fault. He loves me so much he wants to help Me first but it has gotten to where we are both going "we really need to clean the house..." but neither of us have enough battery to do so. Me becuz of my condition and he becuz he's stuck caring for me.

We have enough that we might be able to afford to hire a cleaning service to help us out, but it would cost us some of the freedom and paying down medical bills. I think it'd only be a temporary thing, once I recover from my current episode, we can probably get better... but I don't know how long it will be.

On top of this I'm worried paying for this service will further put off my surgery as we struggle to save up for it again... We've already had to tap into that savings cuz my current episode lost me 2 days at work.

Is it unfair for me to ask to use our new extra money for essentially my not wanting to have to bother doing basic chores? I know I'm tired but I've lived with it so long I could and should probably just push through.

What are these acronyms?

[aph-mable]

Dp x MHA prompt/story; ghostly child.

Okay so this idea been turning in my head for most of the day so I'm going to try to write this, anyone is free to add to it too.

Main plot is this; Danny is on the run from the GIW, being injured enough to cause him to de-age to around 6-7 years old. Same power strength and mind, but suffering from pretty bad injuries such as dissection, and having a lightning scar on his arm from the accident, others are from dealing with the other ghosts.

Danny does try to survive by himself, mainly useing the tricks and abilities he learned from his rouges, mostly doing the bare minimum to get by like steal food and clothes, sometimes kick bad guys to the curb but mostly keeps to himself.

He is in the MHA because during his escape he ended up creating a portal, while doing so he was begging for safety and to finally be accepted, the infinite realms awnsered by placing him a universe of heros, though it takes Danny some time to realize that.

Now with that established time to try and start the story, (though writing this while a bit tired)

___________________________________

.

Danny's bare feet echoed as he ran through the rain storm, it made his body shiver yet he kept pushing through as his medical gown was almost causing him to trip due to it being a size a bit to big.

Yet it didn't matter to the young boy as he ran through the dark streets and alleyways, the pitch blackness of the night helped cover his tracks as he pushed his body forward.

All Danny knew was he needed to run, get away from the men in snow white suits, or else his blood will be splattered again.

No, no, that can't happen again, they had already cut Danny's body over a thousand times that he worried if there was anything human left of him.

His hair was already permanently white, his eyes now a sickly green that shined like spot lights in the dark, he even lost the real need to breath which was the only reason he hasn't collapsed yet.

The sickly young boy only stopped running when he slammed into a trash can, causing him to fall over and cry out in pain as his hands and knees bleed out a toxic red and green.

Painful sobs escaped his mouth as he culled up behind a dumpster, useing what little shelter from the pouring rain.

Finally unable to go any further Danny passes out, coughing now and then as he falls into a restless sleep.

--------------------------------------------

The sounds of birds chipping and passing by cars woke up Danny as the sunrise peeked though the clouds.

Rubbing his eyes and sticking to the shadows Danny crawled from his hiding spot to see where he even was, everything felt so much bigger then they used to be and it was kind of scary.

When Danny peeked around the corner what he saw made his eyes widen.

People and humanoid creatures walked the streets, drove in cars, and chatted away like there wasn't a problem in the world, living their lives without a care around them.

How long was Danny locked up? How far has the world move on that both human amd supernaturals could live together without fear? Would he be accepted for once or rejected again and hunted?

Too many questions filled the young halfa's mind, he needed to get away from the crowds and find some where safe, after all the Guys In White was most likely still looking for him.

Backing away further into the shadows Danny took twisting turns and back paths just to try and stay hidden. Ducking behind whatever he could find like a scared beast whenever a loud or sudden noise happened.

After hours of wondering the streets a painful growl came from Danny's stomach, reminding him that he was still human enough to need food, real food, not just literal trash.

Grumbling Danny went looking for an out of way convince store or small food shop, knowing full well he will have to steal from it. He would possibly go to a bigger food chain that wouldn't care as much about a few missing items, but Danny was still scared of being seen by too many people.

Finally finding a shop that was out of the way and didn't seem to have even a customer inside it Danny took his chance.

Pulling at his core and useing what energy he had, turned himself invisible and intangible as he walked right through the door.

Moving quickly he grabbed what his tiny arms could hold, which was a water bottle and twi pre made sandwiches.

Looking at the check out counter he could see a very tired looking young lady with stripes and long fangs, looking close to a wearcat, bored out of her mind. Werid words and colorful posters sounded her like some kind of ads.

Seeing he wasn't noticed yet Danny bolted for the door.

His invisibility slipped just as he passed the store clerk, leaving her only a sight of a small white haired boy in a werid gown phasing though the doors. It took only a second to make her realize he was running with unpaid store items.

Danny could hear distant yelling as he booked it back to the darkness of the alleyways, catching a few other people's attention but escaping.

Once sure no one was chasing him, Danny wolfed down his sandwiches and downed the water. Ancients, he hadn't even eaten or even got a proper drink like that in ages, tye most he gotten was the bare minimum to keep him alive.

Now a bit more fulied and a clearer mind Danny was planning his next move, which was finding a place to well, live in. A place to hide away from and maybe make his new haunt if it stays a good spot.

As he dusted himself off a near by broken mirror caught his eye. Moving forward Danny could see himself for the first time in a long while... it was a bit distressing.

Standing in the reflection was a young boy no older then 7, with snow white hair that was long and tangled with ectoplasm abd blood, wearing an oversized medical gown that was torn at the bottom, showing his recent knee injuries and barely hiding his lightning scar and others. Lime green eyes stared back at him as tears were rolling down his crumb covered face.

Not wanting to look at the monster in the mirror any longer, Danny matched forward in hopes to find an abounded building close by so he wouldn't have to pass out on the streets again.

----------------------------------------------

An unknown amount of weeks passed by, during that time Danny had found an old shack not to far off from a small stream and bridge.

From there he stole the odd blanket or clothing that were left in the wind to dry, making a nest withing the rotting boards. Danny manged to get his hands on a few shirts and shorts that would fit his smaller body better, yet kept the bloodied hospital gown, mostly as a way to cover up a big hole in the wall.

During his raids to get resources Danny did get spotted many more times, especially when trying to snach food, but so far hasn't been chased further then a block or two.

Danny had quickly found out two major factors of this new place; firstly he couldn't read anything, everything looked like werid squiggles and lines, that might be due to him not being good at reading in the first place or the fact he only knew how to read/write ghost since that's what he did to pass the time. Secondly was there were heros and villains, and he wasn't sure who he was more scared of.

Heros were easy to spot since they wore costumes and announced themselves, villains were more subtle most of the time until they start causing trouble.

Danny had a few run in with the latter, mostly just jerks who think a kid would be an easy target. They were proven wrong quickly when Danny knocked them out by barely trying and dragging them to what he thought was a police station.

Heros were much more tricky, Danny mainly blots whenever he sees any, same with police in person, because what if they worked with the GIW? What would happen if they find out Danny was nothing but an abomination, a crime against life and death.

He wasn't going to risk it.

Yet unaware to Danny due to his adventures he had been spotted multiple times by civilian and a few heros too, one or two may have caught a picture of him back when he was still in his medical gown. And with him naturally running whenever a hero was spotted things were getting suspicious.

Heros and officers were alerted to the presents of a young boy who's case was looking scarily similar to another.

Which lead to Danny's main problem now...

He keeps getting chased by heroes!

Danny mostly avoids them by phasing thorough buildings but it was getting annoying. He started to use his intangiblity, floating, and ice abilities more, he didn't use his ecto blasts since he didn't want to cause that much harm. So far he's been stalked and chased by a werid guy made out of wood, a cowboy, and a rabbit lady just this week! That's not counting the police trying to corner him.

The only ones now that weren't giving him any trouble were normal people and the odd villan.

All Danny wanted to do is eat a good sandwich and maybe relax a bit.

_____________________________________

Going to stop here for tonight but might add more later, any suggestions on how to make this story better is appreciated too.

[radiance1]

Danny has found himself stuck in an animal plush.

Well, it's more like his heart and core was fused into said plush, don't ask him how he literally cannot tell you. All he can tell you, however, is that it had to do with a wish and a crazy wizard.

Somehow, he still has blood and ectoplasm running through his... fluff? Cotton? Probably cotton, and he found that he can, in fact, bleed, but he doesn't have any other organs underneath his cloth, nor is it wet with his blood, so he guesses he'll count his blessings where he can?

Speaking of cloth, it is a bitch trying to replace it whenever he got 'injured' so to speak, not to mention goddamn messy. He never seemed to run out of blood, so whenever he, say, loses an arm it's just a never-ending flow of red and green.

He's so glad he outlived everyone he knew before being turned into a toy; it would be so awkward otherwise.

He can stop it, of course, if he actively thinks to do so but most of the time he just, doesn't, because he honestly could not give less of a fuck to be honest. Blood loss doesn't affect him anymore, nor does he actually feel pain since, you know, no more nerves and all that.

Only time he actually does so is when he wants to repair himself.

Which is a BITCH and a half now that he says it, he never really got into sewing when he younger, more of Jazz and Tucker's thing when they started putting on the years. But it was even worse when he had to sew up his own 'wounds' with literal plush hands and no opposable thumbs, but he managed.

He had too, since bleeding everywhere he went got old real fast.

Honestly, living life as a plush toy wasn't that bad, if he was being honest. He didn't need to breath, use the bathroom, nor eat though he is capable of it so it's just an option now, nor does he feel any sort of pain. So really, he's just been having some slow days now that Amity doesn't need him anymore, keeping himself locked away inside his observatory in the ghost zone proved to something of the best for him if he was being honest.

Though, as the ghost prince he is required to leave every so often. Infinite Realm matters or a meeting with the Observants and what-not. There is also the occasional request from the Master of time to fix a fissure in time, but those are very rare nowadays, now that he settled down with the ghost king on a farm in some dimension, he doesn't know the exact whereabouts of.

Overall, his life was relatively peaceful nowadays.

Well, it was until he got a sticky note from Clockwork, asking him to fix a fissure within time in the dimension he currently resides in at the behest of another Master of Time.

Which, he didn't know there was more than one but it kinda makes sense if he thinks about the infinite dimensions and all that.

So he left his observatory, found the exact dimension Clockwork resided in and got to work with the permission of the other Master of Time. It was a relatively easy fix, if he was going to be honest, he just had to beat some overconfident wizard who wanted to change the past into the ground, for what reason he didn't really know- or care-, but he took care of him.

The only problem was that he lost an arm and had multiple magic-caused tears. So after that, he was just popped out into the present time in some random area, thankfully it was an alleyway instead of anywhere else, and got to fixing himself, with a sewing kit he carried around everywhere, which proved rather difficult with his loss of arm and all that.

During said repairs, however, some man landed in his specific alleyway, got hit by thunder, and transformed into a child. A child, who, having landed in a relatively secluded alleyway, saw the massive amount of blood currently on the ground, leaking from him, and his body in disrepair.

So of course, the first thing he asked of the kid was to hand him some cloth and an extra arm from the giant sewing kit near the wall over there.

(Edit: That sewing or repair kit he carries around has some spatial properties. As in it can resize itself at Danny's will and hold way more than it should, it's also giant because it's taller than Danny is lol.)

[wafflesrock16]

Shakarian Viking/Soulmate AU

Remember how I said this idea wouldn't leave me? I had to write it out. Who else wants Viking berserker Shepard and Anglo-Saxon prince Garrus? Below a the cut.

Shepard watched as Jarl Anderson lowered his torch, setting the brittle branches at the base of the pyre aflame. The scent of pitch and smoke filled her nostrils, the loud crack of timber breaking the stillness of the gathered group of watchers. They stood near enough to feel the heat of the fire on their faces as it consumed the wooden structure, red tongued flames licking at the platform and the shrouded form that lay atop it. 

“He’s in Valhalla, now,” she heard Kaidan murmur. “We should all be so lucky to die in glorious battle.”

Shepard frowned. Jenkins had only been raised to the berserkers the year prior. He had never voyaged to the havens. This was to be his first raid along the Widow Sea’s frontier. He had known the risks, as did all who ventured here. Still, his death sat like a heavy stone in the pit of Shepard’s stomach.

At least he didn’t have a soulmate tethered to his spirit. There’s no one feeling hollowed out with inconsolable grief back home. The reasoning did little to staunch her guilt; if anything it only made it worse since it caused her to feel grateful she didn’t have a soulmate, either. 

Shepard sighed. She was the berserker commander. Jenkins was her responsibility. She wasn’t a wet nurse, but she ought to have kept an eye on him; at least admonished him to stay out of the trees. The silver-barked forests in this region were deadly. Old enemies with eagle eyes and rapier-like claws favored the cover the thick woods offered. 

She turned away from the funerary pyre and the low, solemn chanting that had begun as fire swallowed Jenkins mortal body. Nobody stopped her as she strode away from the conflagration, back toward the longboats. She needed a moment alone with her thoughts without guilt crowding in on her.

 The turians know we’re here—they must have spied us well before we made landfall though bleed me if I know how. Shepard found herself walking past where the dragon-headed longships had been pulled up onto the beach, lost in consideration. We outnumber them, though they have the advantage of knowing the terrain. They also have at least one skilled archer among them, even though that’s not who sent Jenkins off to Odin. 

No, a turian swordsman had done Jenkins in, and Shepard had returned the favor with her axe. It was small comfort. Humans and turians had battled for the land and wealth along the Citadel’s coast for time immemorial. There was talk of an asari negotiated peace treaty, but so far that’s all it was. Talk. Shepard wagered that nothing would come from those talks in her lifetime. And who knows how long that’ll be if we stay here?

Gravel crunched under her boots in the lengthening shadows of twilight. Shepard rounded a gentle curve in the land and came to stand on a dead tree, facing the North. The wind that whipped her fiery red hair about her face was warmer than back home. Then again, they were a long way from home, now.

She watched the dying light upon the waves, the ocean glittering like crushed diamonds. It would be dark soon. They’d need to make camp and plot their next course. Did they take the river deeper inland, as was the original plan? Or did they double back, take their chances in krogan territory where turians didn’t dare venture.

Against the crash of the breakers, Shepard missed the sound of a bowstring drawing taut. It was something else, some inexplicable tug at her heart, a susurration of unheard whispers in her ear, that caused her to suddenly duck and roll, the hidden knives she kept about her person flying into her hands. 

There was a loud thawk, as a barbed arrow embedded itself into the driftwood where she’d been standing. 

She flung a knife, gratified to hear the sound of a large body diving to the sand. She charged before the archer could restring his bow, tackling him to the ground with a savage roar. 

Eyes bluer than the center of a flame stared up at her from within a silver plated face, painted with the bold cobalt markings of Clan Vakarian. The turian’s crest of horns was cushioned by a clump of dried seaweed, tiny insects furiously buzzing about his head at the invasion. 

He flared his mandibles, exposing long, sharp, silver teeth. His jaw dropped as he took in his soon-to-be killer. Shepard sat astride his narrow waist, holding her second knife above his ridged nose, poised to strike. 

Something in those burning eyes softened. “You’re beautiful.” The rumbling subharmoinics seemed to embrace her, a vocal hug to reinforce the sincerity of his words. 

Shepard sucked in a deep breath. For the first time in years, ridiculously, tears pricked the corners of her eyes. “Shut up!” She shook her head as if to dislodge his words. “I hate you!”

Her hand holding the knife quivered. In the crystalline depths of his alien eyes, she saw herself reflected back, lips pulled back in a vicious snarl, red hair framing her face. The embodiment of a valkyrie and harbinger of death. Except, I don’t want to kill him, she realized. 

“I wasn’t trying to hit you,” the turian murmured. “If I had been, you’d already be dead. I hadn’t realized you were . . . you.” He suffused the word with a mix of awe and wonder that left Shepard’s chest feeling tight. 

With a cry born as much from confusion as frustration, Shepard rolled off him. She leaped to her feet, kicking a clump of sand. “Leave,” she commanded, wiping at her treacherous eyes. 

The turian slowly rose to his degi-grade feet. Sharp claws extended from the open toes of his boots. “What if I want to stay?”

Shepard glared at him. “Why should you stay? After what your clan did to our landing party this morning and us to you, shouldn’t you be regrouping?”

Why in the frozen hells was she crying? What was it about this turian of all people that had her feeling vulnerable as a new babe? She should kill him—he’d be back tonight with more men and slit her throat in her sleep. A small voice she couldn’t name told her that he wouldn’t do that. Not him. Not ever. 

“My name is Garrus,” the turian replied instead. “There are those who call me Archangel, but . . . it’s just Garrus, for you.” 

Shepard forced herself to look at him. Really look at him. He was tall and lean, as most turians were, and covered in metallic looking plates. He wore a deep blue tabard with the Vakarian family crest stitched out in thread-of-gold across his chest. A brown leather belt with well-made leggings and fine boots completed his attire. Not some common foot soldier or hunter turned mercenary, Shepard mused. Her eyes settled on the longbow laying at Garrus’ feet. It was nearly as tall as he was and looked like it was made of black yew wood. An expensive weapon. One only someone with a high tier could afford. 

Shepard’s eyes went wide as she realized who Garrus must be. “You’re the Primarch’s son.”

He dipped his head in acknowledgement, a hand moving to rub the back of his neck. Shepard was no expert on turian expressions but she’d swear Garrus looked embarrassed. 

Bright blue eyes met hers. “You seem to know me and my lineage, yet I confess, I have yet to learn your name.”

Shepard hesitated a moment before discarding any notion of subterfuge. What was the point? He could have killed her and hadn’t. She could have killed him and didn’t. Besides all that, she wanted to know him. “Commander Jane Shepard,” she said. “You can call me Shepard.”

Garrus extended his hand in a human gesture of greeting. “A pleasure to meet you, Shepard.” 

Shepard slipped her smaller hand into his. It was like being struck by lightning. There was a jolt, a suffusion of warmth flooding her veins, an invisible push in his direction. They collided at the same time, Garrus likewise shoved by an unseen force. 

She grasped onto his cowl, feeling like she were trapped in an undertow, liable to be swept away in the exultant rush of emotions, apt to drown in the depths of a feeling humanity blithely called ‘soulmates.’ Her skin tingled and she was hyper aware of Garrus’ proximity; the rough calluses of his three-fingered hands and prick of talons through her tunic where he held her waist. His pupils dilating and eclipsing the blue of his irises while his subvocals stuttered and a deep, percussive purr sundered in his chest. 

Shepard exhaled. “Oh.” 

Garrus lifted a shaky hand to gently brush away an errant lock of hair. “It is you,” he whispered, reverent. “You feel it too?”

She gazed up at him, feeling more a maiden than seasoned berserker. Her mouth parted to answer—

“Commander!”

Shepard pulled herself free from the whirlpool of Garrus’ presence to peer into the murky distance. “The others are looking for me,” she muttered. How long had she been gone? Sudden fear squeezed her heart as she considered what would happen if Garrus were discovered. She gave him a forceful shove. “They mustn’t see you. Go! Hurry!”

Garrus moved as though in a daze, stooping to retrieve his bow and taking a few tentative steps backward. “I’ll find you,” he swore. “I’ll come back for you, my dea.” 

Before Shepard could respond he was sprinting; a glimmer of lancing starlight through the gloam, a shape half-seen on the edge of the forest. We’ll find each other, she promised herself, even as Kaidan and Ashley came into view, helmets donned and axes at hand. What joke of the gods is it that my other half should be an ancestral foe, on ground my kin intend to soak in blue blood?

She turned towards her comrades, trying to shake off the chill that had settled over her like heavy snow with Garrus’ departure. The others would want to know what she’d been doing out here, alone in the dark. “Searching for answers,” she’d tell them. “Considering what to do next.”

She’d omit her blue eyed archer. That whatever came next, Garrus would play a major role. For now, she kept her soulmate sheltered within the confines of her rib cage, a constant companion to her own beating heart.

[aventurinemylove]

FIRST TIME REQUESTING! So I have no clue if you're okay with what I'm ganna ask?

May I ask for a angst to fluff. (Only if you're okay with both in the request! unless you want it to be full angst) Like where reader/ y/n is near death (again only if your okay with it) wiith Dazai and Chuuya. (If you wish to add another one that's your choice!) It can be either a headcanon or short fic. Whichever one your more confterble with!

(Ps I love your smau au!)

Have a nice day/night/afternoon (it's 3:10 a.m for me 💀) but anyways if you can't accept my request I understand! But take care of yourself. ♡

A/n- OMG YOU DONT KNOW HOW FAST I GOT UP AND STARTED WRITING TYSM FOR THE REQ OMG AND IM GLAD YOU LIKE THE SMAU😭🫶

Close call

Dazai x reader and chuuya x reader (separate)

Genre-angst and fluff

Warnings- heavy topics, torture, blood, mori…

Songs to listen-skyfall adele,I bet on losing dogs mitski,francis forever mitski

Osamu Dazai

You were sent on a mission by yourself by Fukuzawa to gather information on a rival organization. You knew the risks of this but you were willing to risk it To give the Ada any type of advantage. Before your mission dazai told you to be more cautious about everyone and everything, he had a pitiful feeling in his stomach..the same feeling when he lost his dear friend, which left him wondering if his past finally catching up to him?

Ever since you left the feeling only got worse and worse, he couldn’t take it anymore it was eating him alive he felt a sense of guilt, and for the first time in year, he felt fear..? Something might have happens to you..days without contact or even texts all his texts were delivered you never left him on delivered. He couldn't take it anymore and decided he will look for you himself.

Meanwhile, you haven't texted Dazai due to leaving your work phone at the ADA in order to not cause any suspicion between you and your new boss however you couldn't stay like this forever he saw you rummaging through classified files which ended up with you having to reveal your identity causing you to fight. What surprised you was the ambush from behind which ended up with u getting stabbed in the chest and losing conscious.

Once he got there he was late...your body on the ground bleeding profusely, he couldn't believe it he failed you. The person he vowed to serve and protect you only to fail you. His heart aches at seeing you so motionless so still. He couldn't even form a word he couldn't even stand on his feet. “You're not gone [name] right..” his voice filled with sorrow and disbelief. If only he came earlier..he could've prevented this he wouldn’t have lost you.

He ran to your body and held it..for the first time in years he couldn’t mask his emotions how could he..you were special to him the only one keeping on this ground, but now that your gone he has no will to live no reason to be here. “[name] I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you, you didn’t deserve this awful fate my love..I’m sorry”. You were still conscious you heard everything how u you wish you can tell him “everything’s going to be okay” but honestly not even you knew if your going to make it”

Dazai held u so close running towards the nearest hospital he could find without any second thought begging every doctor to treat you before it was to late. He didn’t leave your side the whole time you were unconscious, atsushi brought Dazai food and made sure to give him company and any ounce of hope he had.

It was almost a month since that event you haven’t woken up not even once…this left Dazai terrified he only thought of the worst outcome. Though before u hit one month of being unconscious you woke up, every emotion hitting you but the one hitting you the most was shock and fear. You couldn't believe you were alive, and you also wondered who brought you to the hospital but soon realization and memories hit you. Dazai found you laying unconscious, you couldn't help but have guilt. Your poor husband finding you unconscious and unresponsive was a horror to think about.

You were so deep in thought you didn't notice Dazai practically tugging you into a hug crying his eyes out on your shoulder. [name] my love I'm so sorry I couldn't protect you, I'm sorry I failed you I was so scared, I was so scared of you leaving me like everyone” he said between broken sobs. “Dazai dear I'm sorry for being so careless I really should've seen it coming” you say through your tears.

To say the least, dazai is happy you're alive and that's all that matters to him.

Nakahara Chuuya

You and Gin were sent on a mission personally requested by Mori, which was odd since usually, he would have you take missions with Chuuya since he had his suspicions here and there. You always found your boss “odd” he always figured out things even he was told which was a scary thought.

On the mission, you were told to play a fair person and your objective was to woe the victim over and that's when Gin strikes. Though it was easier said than done, during the night you felt like something was coming for you or that you were being watched but you pushed your thoughts away for the sake of the mission. You found something quite odd about your victim he looks like a former mafia member though you've never seen him, you feel like his name was mentioned somewhere.

Fortunately, before the night ended you got the victim to think that you were an innocent person trying to get help from him for your company on how to grow it etc. But he knew you were from the mafia he had his eyes on you ever since you stepped in, he knew Mori would send an executive to assassinate him during this party. You had a feeling that your facade was seen through like clear glass, which made the gut feeling start to tell you “leave” or “go home” but you knew being in the mafia your life was always on risk.

Chuuya on the other hand was sweating and shaking something was telling him to watch over you that night, he had a feeling Mori had some plan since usually he would send him with you and no one else. So while you and Gin were on your way to the party he followed you guys but decided to stay hidden until he felt he was needed.

You were unexpectedly brought a handkerchief to your mouth making you pass out. Otherwise, Gin was concerned about what could have happened to you, you weren't giving her any sign to strike..unless the struck first which had her panicking since she also didn't see the host anywhere. She Knew something was wrong, so through her headset she let everyone know “Code red, our executive is missing”. Just hearing this made Chuuya jump and head to the party area before he knew it, he was frantically searching for you everywhere in the area but had no luck he couldn't find you and this made him more frustrated he couldn't believe he took his eyes off you for a bit and you were MISSING.

It was days maybe 3 days since the incident they had you tied to a chair with handcuffs tied to both hands making it impossible to use your ability. You were so beat up all these days tortured just for some information you didn't have. “Now where is that supply box” he spoke, another hit towards your ribs but you stayed silent. “OH SO WE ARE GONNA PLAY THE SILENT GAME ARE WE?!” he says but before you were hit again the doors of the area were crushed open before you knew it Gin ran to you and untied you, and carried you to the truck where they already had a medical professional on board.

Meanwhile, chuuya made sure this man was dead and he made sure that he paid for what he did to you. Chuuya had rage in him, the state he found you in made me sick and sad, how could this asshole do this to you. After his job was chuuya got back to the truck where the doctor talked to him. “Sir they will be unconscious for a few days maybe a few hours if lucky but they had a few broken ribs and a few bruises to the head”. He couldn't believe what he heard, he felt the rage he had earlier come back to him, but he kept his composer just nodded to the doctor.

He was now facing you he felt his heart shatter to 100 pieces the pain and guilt he felt was eating him alive. “If only I got there earlier” or “I should've taken the mission but compared to other missions this was one of the least dangerous. He knelt near your bed while holding your hand slowly letting the tears down.

After 3 days you finally open your eyes looking around the unfamiliar room it looked nothing like the mafia hospital room which relieved you, you didn't have to deal with mori and his annoying overbearing antics, how u hated him and wanted someone to take his spot.

While lost in thought u turn to see flowers and a note on the bedside, you grabbed them smiling to yourself already knowing who it was. As you looked at the flowers you open the note slightly smiling as you read. “My dearest [name] I’m sorry I wasn’t there to protect you as I vowed to you I will, so after you feel better let me take you out to eat, sincerely yours Chuuya Nakahara” but before you finished you saw the end “ps I’ll visit you later I'm on a mission right now”. You never knew how you got lucky with such a man but honestly, it did take you guys a while to be where you are at right now.

Later…

You were sitting down reading a book when you heard the hospital door bust open, at first you thought it was an enemy attack but you were relieved to see Chuuya at the door with a little box at hand. “My love” you heard Chuuya speak “I got you this,” he says as he gives you the box. You were shocked, to be honest, you weren't expecting anything so when u recognized the jewelry box you began to cheer up. “Thank you dear you didn't have to,” you say smiling at him while opening the box, to your surprise there was a gorgeous necklace that you'd been wanting for a while but couldn't get your hands on it, so it was surprising to see Chuuya get ahold of such an item.

You felt your eyes start to tear up as you pulled Chuuya into a tight hug and whispered “Thank you my love I couldn't ask for someone more amazing than you”. Chuuya was surprised by your sudden action but didn't complain at all. “My love I'm sorry for not being there on time,” Chuuya said his voice cracking “If maybe I was there earlier this could've been avoided”. “Chuuya it's ok, I'm fine I'm here with you look on the bright side at least we got him” you say softly.

Chuuya knew you were right, he was just happy you were alive and with him still.

[delulupost]

RECKLESS

"How could you be so reckless with my heart?"

Ghost x Reader

Warning: Angst, Heartbroken, Cheating, Mentioning of SA and R*PE, Trauma, Death.

Pain, just pain. That's what you felt after finding out that Ghost actually cheated on you during on your birthday. You and him had been together for years, but he still cold towards you. You are celebrating your birthday at your own apartment. Both of you don't live together because Ghost wants to be alone all of the time. He feels annoyed with your presence in the house even though you give him his space and time that he needed.

He didn't celebrate your birthday today because he's on mission, based on what he said. After the party has ended, you receive messages from your bestfriend. You checked the messages and your heart immediately drops after what you just saw. Your bestfriend, Maddy sent you pictures and pictures of Ghost and other woman. Maddy then explain everything.

She was shopping while this was happened. While she walk passed a restaurant, she immediately saw Ghost and this other woman dine in together in the restaurant. She immediately took photos and videos of them together.

This really broke your hurt very well, because you love him so much with all of your heart. You cry at your bed, because all this time you thought that he love you too. But he's actually lying and cheating on you.

The next day you go to his apartment and see him there because he call you. After you came, he told you that he cheated on you. It doesn't hurt your heart because you know it earlier, but your heart still hurt because he admitted it. This situation really breaks your heart. You thought he love you as well, because he always been caring on you, bought you your favourite flower and took you on a date.

He just look at you coldly while he's talking to you, because he's actually never cared about you at all. He's just faking it this whole time. You stop listening to him, ignoring him and immediately walk out from his apartment.

From that day, you start to get your nightmares back. You really have a traumatic past, because your uncle SA and R*PE you when you just a kid. Not just your uncle, your cousins too. Your parents also have been abusive towards you. That trauma becomes your nightmares every night, and it's become worsen after you found out that Ghost cheated on you. Every night, you cries yourself to sleep, because of the pain and trauma that you have been through.

After a few weeks later and with you bestfriend's persuasion, you finally seek help from a therapist. But it didn't make you feel good at all. You heart still ache everyday, and sometimes the pain worsen without any reason at all.

One night, while you are walking down the street, you see Ghost and other woman walking at the opposite direction. You pretend to ignore them, but your heart aches so badly when you see both of them together. You lost in your thoughts as you walking down the streets and while crossing the road. You lost in your deep thought and never realise that a car is speeding towards you. When you realise it, it is already too late. The car hit your hard, causing you to be thrown by the impact. Your head bleeds as you feel pain across your body, and the last thing you see before closing your eyes is Ghost standing infront of you with the woman standing besides him, panicly calling the ambulance.

You took your last breath and close your eyes. You only see darkness, and there no light at all. You already died, and finally you can finally take a rest from your pain. But do you find your peace after what you have been through?

[skylarstark4826]

Spider sat in one corner of the Sully marui weaving a basket, his smaller hands making quick work of tying sturdy knots out of material new to him.

In the other sat Neytiri, skinning fish after fish and placing them on hooks, quick and efficient with her blade.

The hut stayed utterly silent aside from sounds of their labour, yet it barely felt awkward. After all, both inhabitants were focusing for a reason. The chores were a distraction.

A distraction from the horrid disaster they’ve been through. 

Strangely enough, since loosing the oldest Sully and arranging a funeral, both of them avoided talking about him; even in passing. It caused too much pain, like rubbing salt into a bleeding gash, but while Neytiri knew such agony well, to Spider it was all new. He escaped any thoughts about Neteyam because he was afraid he’d break down again, like he did the night of the funeral, when the emotional whiplash fully caught up to him and he broke, emitting barely-human noises as Kiri wept, holding him. He’d never been this vulnerable, never cried to the point where there were no tears left, and hoped to Eywa that he wouldn’t have to repeat the process, although witnessing Ms.Sully break down twice this week didn’t give him much hope. But could he blame her?

No. Not in a million years. The utter shock of witnessing a loved one’s eyes loose light is a horror Spider wouldn’t wish upon anyone.

His work slowed. 

Is this how Neytiri felt when she lost her father? Her sister? Half of her clan? His pain from loosing ‘Teyam felt gut-wrenching, so he couldn’t even begin to imagine how badly it burned Ms.Sully’s soul to have so much taken from her. Truth be told, he felt horrible for resenting her back in the forest. He only ever saw his own part of the story.

As he wandered deeper into his thoughts, so did the matriarch; except she had a bad habit of quickening her pace whenever she could not find focus on the present. She couldn’t let her children or husband know, but she was holding on by a thread. No amount of crying and screaming and throwing objects into the sand could quench her agony, despite Norm saying that it’d be healthy for her to let it out. No matter how much she let it out, there was too much still left, and it grew like a mold as soon as she’d stop screaming. Maybe she was well past the point of "letting it out" years ago, though she certainly tried many times.

She looked at Spider. 

Yes, she tried hard to let it out indeed…and this boy became her accidental target. He came under the line of fire because through his veins coursed the blood of a demon, and she recalled herself justifying that behaviour more than once by telling her beloved that said boy walked on a slippery slope, bound to repeat the mistakes of his ancestors. 

And yet, there he sat. After enduring months of captivity and torture, as he’d told them when Tonowari organised a council to hear our whatever information he had gathered, he was still loyal. 

He witnessed villages burn, had to beg the demon, *cry* for him to spare the people, and it eluded Neytiri how or why the monster listened. She didn’t want to put the puzzle together just yet, trying to erase the incident on the ship out of her memory. Eywa knows, Kiri hasn’t looked at her the same since.

“Ack!” She hissed when the knife inevitably drove into her finger, causing a bleeding. She then sees Spider react on pure instinct, fetching a bandage-like cloth and sitting next to the woman as he treated her injury. He was good at it, that much she was aware of, as she saw him treat a deep wound once. A human ally pilot bled once, but Socorro never lost his cool and swiftly bandaged it. 

She wondered how often he had to treat himself, to get this precise with his movements.  She also wondered why she let him touch her, but the last seven days have been a complete mess, and neither of the two had strength to be passive-aggressively avoidant of each other. There were bigger sorrows to mope over.

***

The crowd of Metkayina, as well as Tau’nui, roared in frustration at the council. They wanted action, and they wanted it now. The death of many of their loved ones, including the tulkun, has angered them beyond belief, but the leaders had to quieten the crowd so Spider could share what he had gathered about their enemy. He knew he was looked at side-ways, because contrary to how he felt on the inside, blue stripes didn’t make him taller, no matter how much paint he applied to his skin. 

Neytiri grew frustrated as well. The crowd’s fury had been understandable, but their restlessness only stalled them. She looked at the teenager to see if he’d be brave enough to do something about it, since not even Tonowari and Ronal could calm their storm. And he did.

Grabbing the tube filled with a yellow liquid from the mat in the centre, Spider stood in front of the big fire and raised it to the sky. The crowd went quiet, their attention now consumed by the strange device.

“Listen to me, reef people!” He exclaimed, mustering all the confidence he had. “This! This is why they’re killing your spirit siblings!” His voice shook when he remembered the death of a mother and her child.

“What is it!?” He heard the crowd demanding.

“It’s a liquid stored in the minds of every tulkun! They hunt for it because-” He couldn’t believe he was about to say it. “Because it grants sky people immortality!”

Reef Na’vi gasped in utter shock, and even Jake couldn’t keep his jaw from hitting the floor.

“What…what are you saying, child?” Ronal dared to ask, her eyes filled with horror.

“This…this fluid stops humans from ageing! It makes them live forever!” He locked eyes with her.

“But…that is impossible, all energy—”

“They found a way to break that rule. And they break it by killing the tulkun and pulling this out of their heads.” Socorro pointed to where his brain is, his own eyes watering.

The Metkayina and Tau’nui were silent now, processing this new information.

Neytiri felt even more furious than before, but by no means surprised. Sky people cruelty was new to the sea Na’vi, but not her. Not her clan.

Not new to Spider either, she thought, looking at him, and how bravely he held up in the face of a resentful mob.

Yes.

He was indeed quite brave.

***

Water, as beautifully as it sparkled, had never been Neytiri’s strong suit. She could swim just fine, could even fish to an extent, but riding an ilu was still quite difficult for her to grasp, even more when it came to the skimwing. Now that the war was upon them, she had no excuse to stall on learning, so Ronal took time out of her day to offer help. She guided the animal towards her, and ‘Tiri couldn’t help but feel warmth in her chest at its friendly clicks. About ten metres away, Spider sat on the woven pier and helped Jake carve wooden stakes for the nets. Socorro kept stealing glances, wondering how Ms.Sully would do.

Tsaheylu went smoothly but Neytiri shivered, as if cold water was dumped on her. She heard a familiar chuckle and whipped her head, seeing Spider quickly turn his down and pretending to work. She huffed, and listened to Tsahik’s instructions, slowly got on the creature’s back. However, the animal must’ve felt her lack of confidence, as it chirped and bolted away, dropping Neytiri into the water.

Spider tried, honest to the great mother, to hold it in, but the image of such a serious, graceful figure emerging from beneath the waves with the widest eyes was just too amusing. He let out a laugh, before biting his lip and hunching again. Jake looked at him like he just signed his death warrant, and Socorro couldn’t agree more. 

He didn’t see the smirk Neytiri failed to suppress, or her slowly wagging tail as she approached the ilu again, and whispered something into their ear.

He did however, definitely feel the harsh tug on his loincloth, which sent him tumbling into the water with a high-pitched screech. Once under the surface, he locked eyes with the clicking ilu and playfully shoved its face, swimming back up when the most incredible sound graces his ears. 

Neytiri laughed. It was short-lived, but she laughed, and laughed in his presence. Seeing a smile on her worn out face felt like a breath of fresh air and Socorro couldn’t help but chuckle in return, grinning. 

Oh how good it felt, to have the weight of the world pulled off their shoulders, if just for a single moment.

***

Neytiri was at it again; overworking herself because she steadily lost focus on the current task while the eclipse had long since passed. She was expected home hours ago, and the family, deeply scared for their mother’s wellbeing, went looking for her around the village.

Jake and Spider split to search on the shoreline, going opposite directions and soon enough, Socorro witnessed a familiar silhouette resting against the rocks. It was none other than ‘Tiri, with a half-weaved net in her arms. 

The blonde couldn’t help but appreciate that distinct, Omatikaya handiwork; he learned weaving from her after all, but his wonder turned to confusion when he caught the warrior twitching in her sleep. Looking up, Spider met her shut eyes and a forming scowl. It’d be better to wake Neytiri before she falls deeper into whatever nightmare she was seeing.

But as soon as Socorro’s hand touched hers, she pounced on him akin to a vengeful thanator. In a way, she was.

“Hey hey HEY!!” Spider yelled, as ‘Tiri felt for the blade strapped to her vest and unsheathed it. “Neytiri STOP!! IT’S ME!!”

In a fit of rage, Neytiri hissed at him, and on reflex, the blonde hissed right back. That seemed to do the trick, as it snapped the warrior out of her delusion, and she breathed heavily, looking him in the eyes.

After what felt like an eternally long moment, she leapt away, realising what she’d done. “What do you want!?”

“…It’s-it’s eclipse. Everyone has been looking for you…” Spider breathed.

Neytiri turned, eyeing the darkening sky, before giving the blonde a slow nod and collecting the net she’d weaved.

“Let us go.” She looked back at him, waiting for Spider to follow.

***

This night proceeded quietly, like so many others these past weeks, but Tshaka could not sleep. It has been roughly a month, but her scar bled still, as fresh as ever. Keeping her son out of her thoughts as to not breakdown completely has been an exhausting task. 

She needed some air, and slowly, as to not disturb her family, slipped out of the warm hut, shivering at the chill. It was then she caught a distant sound of sobbing.

In said distance, on a pier, sat a familiar tiny figure, with knees up to his chin, and shaking shoulders. ‘Tiri couldn’t help her gasp as she approached, akin to a predator trying not to spook its prey. Was Spider really crying? He hadn’t done that since the funeral. She guessed that he’d been putting on a front, but never considered how heavy the burden of grief would weight on someone who experienced it for the first time. 

Thinking of her child, she let out a tear.

It never got easier, but one’s very first loss always stings the most.

“Spider.” 

She spoke barely above a whisper, but Socorro still lurched, as if burned, before quickly lifting his mask and wiping away the salt on his cheeks. 

“W-what is it?” He croaked, his voice shaking.

It’s only then Neytiri realised that she didn’t actually think it through. Her deep-rooted maternal instinct pulled her towards a broken child, but knowing their history, she had no idea how to provide comfort to him specifically.

So instead, she sat next to him, looking at the glowing ocean.

“I cannot sleep.”

The Na’vi avoided making eye contact with Socorro as to not make him feel further embarrassed, but still noticed him nodding, while hiding most of his face.

“…Neither can I.”

‘Tiri nodded in acknowledgement, and they stayed silent for a little more. Listening to the waves swirl gently against pier’s columns, as well as watching peculiar creatures swim below.

“…How…how do-how do you do it?” The boy then asked, sheepishly turning to the woman next to him.

“Do what?”

“Keep going. After everything…” New tears gathered in his eyes. “I feel like a part of me has been ripped away. Is this how it felt when…?”

“…Yes. It feels like that all of the time.”

The blonde’s eyes widened, another tear escaping down his face. “Then how?”

Neytiri looked back at the ocean, trying to gather her thoughts and give him a hopeful response, but in truth, she had none. Every tragedy was a storm that destroyed her, and then, after a while, she just wouldn’t be crumbling as much.

“…I do not know. I guess…” She sighed. “All you can do is wait.”

“It’s torture.”

“Yes.”

“I want to see him again.”

Neytiri’s heart skipped a beat. “I know.”

“It feels like the world has ended, and everyone’s just pretending like nothing happened.”

That sentence brought new tears to Neytiri’s eyes. Socorro oddly hit the arrow on that one. It really did feel like a silent apocalypse at times; like everything after Neteyam’s death was an afterlife, a ghost remaining of the world that had once existed. 

But she felt that way before. The world had died before, one too many times, and yet here she still was, pushing on. It is thanks to her family that she once more found happiness and saw how her life could yet be full of love and purpose.

“…The sun, Socorro. Look to the sun.”

“What..?..”

Neytiri clenched the weaved floorboards of the pier. “The pain is agonising, and the tragedy may seem endless, but the sun will always rise. No matter what happens here on Eywa’eveng, it’ll greet us the very next morning.”

Spider looked up at Polemius; a giant orb with swirly patterns, gracing Pandorian sky.

“The sun will always rise.” Neytiri said, carefully, ever so carefully, moving her hand towards his, wanting to take the pain she is so aware of away from a boy so young. “Nor is the night starless.” She spoke, their fingers barely touching.

***

Curiously, Neytiri slept like a newborn after the conversation they had. Waking up with the morning rays, she saw that the marui had been emptied of all her family members, but she’d been tucked into a blanket. She’ll have to cook something big tonight, to reward her children and husband for working so hard to help Awa’atlu prepare for the future battle with sky people.

However, next to her lay a holo-pad. A human techno device used by Jake to contact their friends at high camp, and sometimes bythe Sully siblings to take photos. Tiredly, she picked up her head and stared at the screen. One of the icons was glowing, and she knew it meant that someone left a message. She pressed on it, expecting barely-comprehensible science gibberish written by Norm or Max.

Instead, it was a message written directly on this device. Neytiri read into the letters, her mind still foggy. 

Her heart sank into the ground.

Her face went pale. 

She leapt to a stance immediately, running as fast as she could through the village, a hundred emotions fighting to be felt, and a single question screaming to be answered.

Why?

The eclipse was not yet fully over when the warrior reached rocky cliffs on the edge of the island. Spider stood there, on the tallest edge, as still as a statue.

“WHY THE HELL DID YOU SAVE HIM!?” Neytiri screamed on top of her lungs, a human word escaping her in the state of panic.

Socorro turned to her, his face once more stained with tears, but his expression stone-serious. “I did it because….because he loves me, in his own horrible, fucked up way. He cared, and when push came to shove, he chose me over everything else!” He yelled to be heard over the crashing waves. “No one has ever done that for me before and, fuck!” He couldn’t keep up the front for long. “I love him too! I wish I didn’t! I swear I hate that I do! He’s a fucking monster and I regret my choices! But back there, I couldn’t stop myself!” He sobbed. “I was just…I didn’t want to be abandoned again.”

Neytiri glared at him, frantic, a small part of her wanting, truly wanting to understand, but getting overshadowed by anger and fear.

“Foolish boy! Do you understand what will happen?! He will come back for us! For your siblings!!”

Spider shook his head, breathing rapidly. “No, no, he doesn’t care for them. He only threatened you because he knew it would set off Jake. He wanted to bait him into a fight. It was his only goal all along.”

‘Tiri hissed, furious. “What is the meaning of all this? Why come here, to the outskirts, to say it!? Are you too much of a coward to face your sins head on!?”

“That’s exactly what I’m doing.”

Off-handedly, the woman noticed that Socorro wasn’t armed.

“After yesterday, I made up my mind. I can’t make things right, nothing will make it right…but this nightmare can end with me.”

It took a moment for Neytiri to process what the boy had meant, but when it hit her, she couldn’t help taking a step back.

Spider didn’t run out here because he’s a coward.

He ran out here to help Neytiri get rid of the evidence.

“You…you want me to kill you.”

“Don’t you?”

Did she?

Neytiri was angry, and grieving, and afraid, and broken what felt like way beyond repair after the tragedies she’d faced. 

She hated Spider for whom he saved.

She hated what he represented so much.

She…

…

She didn’t want him to die, she realised, tearing up in frustration at herself. She recalled when he was a baby fitting into the palm of her hand, when he followed her like a little shadow and eager to prove himself, when he played with her children, when he gave Tuktirey one of her first necklaces, when he saved his siblings from the sky people who pursued them out of hell’s gate a year ago, when he went through torture at the hands of RDA, that cause him phantom pains, just to keep Omatikaya and their family safe. 

For so long, when meeting eyes with the child before her, she only saw Quaritch. A creature that would inevitablt morph into his exact copy.

But now, when it felt like she had gotten all the proof of it in the world, she looked at him…

And only saw Spider. 

Spider, the human Omatikaya from the forest, and no one else. Miles’s shadow was gone, no longer veiling the blonde away from her.

Neytiri wanted to pluck her eyes out in anger. Why, out of all moments, did she have to see him now? Why did the great mother tortue her so?

She sighed shakily. “I do not what a child’s blood in my hands. I am not him.”

Spider’s eyes widened, as he stared at her in shock, before eventually frowning and nodding. “Right. I’m sorry, of course you wouldn’t…fuck, I don’t know why I thought you would.”

Why did he?

Neytiri hated him, he knew that. They even had an argument once, a short but dramatic one, when the RDA had just returned to Pandora. He’d been so frustrated at the way she saw him, that he’d exploded on her in return that night, saying that Kiri, Lo’ak and Tuk were all the family he had because of her war.

He regretted those words every day.

It was another reason to get rid of him. Truthfully, Neytiri had every justification to go through with his murder. Spider wasn’t even a creature of Eywa, so could it really that big of a deal?

But, of course it was.

Neytiri is not a monster out to get him, though it seems like Socorro had come to believe it at some point because of her sheer resentment. 

And then Neteyam died, and everything made sense. Honestly, Socorro had been surprised she didn’t actually attempt anything herself. Truly, Tsahaka was a warrior stronger than any other he’d ever met. An ideal Na’vi.

He only wished he could have understood her sooner.

But now he did. 

“I get it. I…”

And he still needed to make up for his sins.

“It’s time I act like one of the people for once.”

And with those words, Spider’s exopack flew down the cliff, disappearing into the foam below.

Neytiri’s heart stilled as she watched the blonde choke in slow-motion, before her instincts took over and she leapt into action. 

Spider’s limp form in her arms, she ran back to Awa’atlu, counting down the seconds with her every stride.

Sky people only had four minutes to live after loosing air. 

Awa’atlu resided way further. 

She wouldn’t make it.

But Socorro was not any other human, was he? 

Neytiri held onto that thought like a life-line as she pushed Metkayina out of her way. Had Spider always been so small? So fragile? 

She almost missed the entrance when reaching her home, slipping on the weavings, but regained her footing quickly and dropped Spider off on her pallet, rummaging through technical equipment Spellman had brought two weeks ago for the blonde specifically. 

Somewhere here, it had to be here!

There.

She pulled out a brand new mask, setting a charged battery into the slot before picking up her child and fixing the visor over his face, pressing a button that would start filtrating air. 

For a gruelling moment, there had been nothing but silence, and Neytiri’s heart kept sinking to the bottom of the ocean.

It’s been six minutes.

But then, there was a deep, loud inhale, punctuated by frantic coughing and shaking. Neytiri held the blonde as he gulped for air like a fish out of water. 

A moment or two, Spider had been completely disoriented, frantically looking around him, when his eyes paused, staring into Neytiri’s bright yellow ones, almost glowing in the light of the sun.

Socorro looked heartbroken, on the verge of tears the longer the warrior held him. “Why…why did you do it!?”

In response to his panic, Neytiri snapped out of her initial stupor. “I saved your life you ungrateful boy!” She snapped back, yet holding him only tighter. 

“Wha-no! You were supposed-I should have-” He stumbled over his words, distressed. “I should have died!” He sobbed, trying wearily to push Neytiri away, but his strength was no match for hers. “Let GO!” He cried. “…please.”

“True warriors do not go out like this.” She hissed.

“I’m not a warrior. Never passed the iknimaya remember!?” He blabbered, still pushing against Neytiri’s shoulders. “Ending it all was the most honorable thing I could do!”

“No!” She grabbed him by the bicep, forcing him to look up at her. “The honourable thing would be to own up to one’s mistake!”

“It was not a mistake! Don’t you get it?! I CHOSE him in that ocean. I s…” He whimpered, loosing his will to fight back. “He saw me. And I saw him. You can’t own up to that kind of shit.”

Neytiri’s hold on Spider’s bicep tightened, as she searched for something to say; something that would discourage him from trying that kind of blasphemy again, when a crucial memory surfaced in her mind.

“My mother. The Tsahik…” She began. “She saved a spy once. A spy of the sky people. A spy that helped your father destroy our hometree. That man chose to help our enemy…but he owned up to his choices, and eventually redeemed himself.”

“…but I can’t become rider of the last shadow.”

“No, you cannot, but it isn’t why I chose him. He made a commitment of loyalty, and showed us all that he was ready to fight, whether forgiven or not. You’ve made a commitment of loyalty a long time ago. I should have seen it sooner…should have seen you.” She spoke, and it felt like a puzzle piece missing from her damaged soul had finally been put into place. 

Spider gasped, his heart skipping a beat.

“Maybe if I did…the demon wouldn’t be alive.”

“What!? No! That-it wasn’t your responsibility!”

“It had to be someone’s, and I was the closest thing you ever gotten to a mother. That fact alone should have…cleared my mind.”

Socorro wanted to protest, wanted to take the guilt off Neytiri’s shoulders…but had no idea what to say to make it better. Perhaps a small, dark part of him didn’t want to, revelling in the newfound validation he’d never felt before.

“I apologise if I made you feel like death was your best chance at redemption.”

It was Spider’s turn to ho into Neytiri’s shoulder. “No! No it wasn’t you! I just-I brought so much pain already, I thought it’d be best if I stop being a burden.” Spider croaked. 

“You’re no burden. Never were.” ‘Tiri responded without missing a beat.

Socorro met eyes with Neytiri once more.

She looked back, not a shred of malice behind her gaze. Hate still raged in her heart.…but the love for this strange child, whom she knew practically since he was born, who put his life on the line for the people, was stronger. 

He fit perfectly into her embrace. 

“…Never?”

“Never.”

And the world, as these two knew it, shattered. This time however, it felt perfectly fine.

[shallowbreaths]

This is Mary Vincent, she is the biggest badass alive! At 15 she was attacked, brutal raped, hit in the head with a hammer, she had her arms hacked off with a hatchet, and was then thrown off a cliff by the side of the freeway to die. Her survival story is the shit! She says she heard a voice telling her to keep moving or else others would die, so without arms she managed to pack mud into the wounds so she wouldn’t bleed to death, and then she proceeded to scale the cliff with no arms!! She was completely naked, she had severe head trauma, no arms, and they say she had lost 50% of the blood in her body. After scaling the cliff (which she says took her most of a day), she then walked 3 miles before seeing a car with two men that slowed down, but after getting a good look at her they sped off. To which this badass woman said, “I looked terrifying, I don’t hold it against them at all.” Needless to say, she survived. Before allowing herself to even pass out though, she demanded a sketch artist and provided such detail that the monster’s friend saw it on the news and immediately knew it was him and turned him in. Then she testified against the man, and he somehow managed to whisper to her, “if it takes me the rest of my life I’m going to finish what I started.” Oh yeah, btw, it was HIM that released that detail!

Her family could only talk about how it effected them, it was as if they didn’t realize that it was effecting her too. So she was homeless for a while and she obviously had trouble making and maintaining any meaningful relationships. Her attacker got charged with a long list of crimes and got the maximum sentence at the time…. 14 years! He was released for good behavior after 8!!!!

He then tried to sue her after his release, (as one does after brutally raping someone and then cutting their arms off), but the court threw it out. He then moved to Florida where he was an “upstanding member of the community, and great neighbor.” His neighbors said things like, “of course we didn’t like what he’d done, but life goes on.” Yuck! I know this is shocking, but the asshole killed again and a witness saw it. The police arrived at his house and he was covered in blood still. He tried telling some BS story. The woman he killed (a mother of 3) wasn’t highly thought of because she was a sex worker, that’s one reason why they are so often killed, it’s easier to get away with. SOOOO, Florida asked Mary if she’d face the monster again in order to testify to the man’s nature. This badass said, “Hell yes” and flew down. I really hope she whispered to him, “I’m here to finish what I started.” He was convicted again and put on death row. Unfortunately, God got him with cancer before Florida got to finish his story.

This isn’t about him though, he was a disgusting creep that doesn’t deserve a name. This is about Mary fucking Vincent, the biggest badass of all time. Because of this story, there are now laws instituting mandatory life sentences for certain violent crimes. This is about a woman who uses her experience to help teenagers who are sexually assaulted, even though she STILL suffers from such terrible nightmares that she has woken up trying to escape with such violence that she has literally broken bones doing it several times. This is about the woman who went on to have two sons who she says gave a clear and definite reason to keep going. This is about a girl who at 15 says she couldn’t draw a straight line but grew up to be an artist with no arms, who fashions her own custom prosthetics in order to do the things she wants to do.

I’ve never met this woman, but she is one of my heroes! She is magnificent. Fuck that loser who wound up rotting in a cell alone, it could have been a car crash or a tree falling that caused that damage, he is a gross and barely necessary tool that lead to forging something truly amazing. What she has done, overcome, and made from the pieces is so fucking incredible that she should inspire us all. She was NOT disposable, but how easily she could have been. All she had to do was close her eyes at the bottom of that cliff and go to sleep. I’ll bet she could have quit on herself a million times over the years since 1978, but Mary Vincent doesn’t quit. She took the unimaginable and turned it into art. She IS art!

In Mary’s own words, “This is the third phase of my life since that awful day. I went from victim, to survivor, to artist.” Hell yeah you did Mary!

[thunderroseses]

Uranus is a war criminal au (since his Australian lol)

Erebus (X) is Uranus brother!!

Uranus grimes as the shackles tighten around his already sore wrist, if he knew this would be his fate maybe he would have joined Jupiter and Saturn instead of following his stupid brother and now because of this dumb war he’s lost his only brother, all because Jupiter couldn’t handle not being sun’s favourite anymore, the whole reason the war started in the first place.

At the very least he wouldn’t be alone during his exile into the fair end of the solar system, Neptune gave up his very favourable orbit of warmth for the coldness of Erebus old orbit, Neptune (even though they were on opposing sides during the war) didn’t like the idea of Uranus so fair away for everyone else had given up his orbit to Jupiter just so Uranus wouldn’t be alone, his cousin might not be the brightest, but he would forever be the kindest planet anyone could wish for.

“Ahh!” Uranus grown as his bad knee screamed as his weight shuffled onto it, tears welled his eyes, threatening to break free, the knee in question had been mercilessly broken by Saturn during the war, but Uranus refused to let them see him cry, instead bitting his lip as a poor attempt to get his emotions under control, a whimpered slip through his now bleeding lip but Uranus ignored it in favour of  hoisting himself up with his good knee, he could see the slie smile of The two gas giants, knowing they were the cause of his pain.

Uranus is become all to aware that those two fuckers took joy in his pain. He could still hear their blood lust filled laughter as Saturn smashed his skull in with the weapon Uranus created with his own two hands. Only for all that work to be used against him, the sheer thought made the pounding in his head even more painful, Uranus wish he could forget all the pain that was inflicted onto him on the past few years but Sol was never on his side, no matter how much Uranus prayed to them to shin their warmth onto him once’s again, but instead Sun turned their head and let Jupiter and Saturn do as they pleased. The world win of emotions Uranus had been holding in till now were just bagging to break free, but he couldn’t let THEM see he when he cries, Uranus but his lip harder keeping everything in just long enough for the gas giants to turn around starting their slow march to the fair end of the solar system once’s again, the short burst of pain provide a much needed distraction for everything his been through even in the past few hours felt like a life time in of itself, Uranus had already seen the death of his brother, and the fall of the most powerful warrior, Neptune… he didn’t deserve the fate his choice but nothing could dissuade Neptune now, Erebus always jokes that Nep’s strong will would be the death of him, they never thought it’d actually come true.

The rest of the walk was fairly quiet, the only sound in the vast emptiness of space was Saturn and Jupiter soft laughter as they recounted their favourite part of the wars, as if they were fond memories to tell for ages, he guessed maybe for the gas giants they were “happy” memories no matter their losses, they won and that was enough for the two of them. From Uranus downturned face he could still see the prideful face of Saturn who wouldn’t shut up about stealing Erebus’ moons only keeping Titan alive because of his status of being the most beautiful and biggest moon Erebus had. Uranus didn’t like that it was Had now, after they murdered him, Erebus had 12 beautiful and kind moons that lighted up the emptiness of space. His brother raised them all by himself, taking great care to give them all equal treatment, something Saturn and Jupiter never care to do, but now all Erebus work had been reduced to a “trophy” of the unworthy.

Uranus should probably stop before he actually breaks down crying, the events of today and his humiliating defeat were already to much but on top of everything else his been through was just to much for one person to bear, Uranus couldn’t wait to be alone in his new orbit to cry all the tears his been holding in, he refuses to show any weakness in front of his brother murders, they didn’t deserve the satisfaction of his pain, most of which they are the cause of. 

The walked felt like it dragged in forever, by the time they did Uranus was lost in his thoughts completely ignoring the world around him, or lack there of, seeing how far out they where now, his new orbit was devoid of life, the only planets out here where the giants themselves had it was to cold for the rocky planet to survive (the dwarf planets aren’t formed yet) and soon only been Neptune and Uranus himself, with three abandoned, orbits in between Uranus and the new closest planet, all apart of his exile, Uranus supposed, “Well, say hello to your new home Uranus!” Saturn said his worlds dripping with venom and the pleasure in knowing Uranus’ suffer won’t be short lived here, even with Neptune taking the orbit Uranus was might too, he was still all alone to wallow in self pity and the wish to change the past. “Yes. I’m sure you and Neptune well have lots of fun here.” Jupiter smiled mostly to himself, his malicious smile cutting ugly lines into his usually empty face, it was hard to tell want was going on in their head but one thing was sure they were taking joy in his pain just like they always had, and would probably be laughing about all the way to their new orbits, ones they didn’t deserve, Uranus hoped that they would at lest be kinder to the rocky planet, as they didn’t nothing wrong unlike Uranus. They were angels in comparison to them, as far as Uranus knew they were only children who stilled believed the world was sunshine and stars above, the giants were as lucky having lived a million years already.

“Well, we best be leaving so you can get adjusted to your new orbit.” Saturn spoke again, his voice almost sickly sweet as he hooked his arms around Jupiter’s. “Don’t you need to remove these cuffs rights?” Uranus snickered as they look at one another, before Saturn smirked, “I Don’t know maybe we could leave them on as extra punishment” Saturn eyes crinkled as his smile etched onto his face. “wouldn’t that be fun my dear?” His voice softened as he looked up to his lover, “As fun as that’s be I think Uranus had been punished enough for now.” Jupiter eyes never looked away from Uranus worried face, almost believing they really were leaving him like this. “Awww, your no fun.” Saturn hafted, drawing out his worlds as he crossed his arms. “Fine. It’s not worth coming all the way out here just for you anyways.” Saturn face shifted to something unreadable to Uranus, but quickly went back to a smile as a joke popped into his mind. “Bye Ur-Anus!” Saturn said with his voice filled with laughter has he saw Uranus face fall with anger, knowing he couldn’t do anything about it, unless he wanted yet another fight he had no changed in wining, they all knew it, between the three of them Uranus was the weakest, it was only because of Erebus he thought he had a chance in beating them.

What a foolish thinking that was, now all Uranus could do was stare as they left him all alone, somewhere unfamiliar to him, why was Sol so cruel to him? They could have helped before they lost yet another planet, but no. They did nothing. Uranus sat with his knee curled tightly against his chest as he cried, going over everything he every did wrong to end up in this situation, Neptune was nowhere to be seen, so he had no one, Uranus had lost everything he ever knew and love, all in the matter of a few years.



[thediktatortot]

Harringrove, Angst, medical issues.

---

At first it was the memory issues.

It was little things, keys, wallet, coats, the things every person lost and found on any good day...but it was other things too; cups of water, medication, photos, missed phone calls, forgotten dates...names.

No one wanted to really pay attention to those things though, the little things, chocking it up to simple forgetfulness and absentmindedness for the sake of nothing being wrong. No one wanted to break the proverbial wall of 'Nothing's Wrong'.

There were other signs of course, like the random mood swings, the mixing of words, panicked phone calls in the middle of the night because no one knew where he was or they would wake up to a confused phone call of their own.

He snapped more often, got angry at his friends and his lover, repeated the same stories multiple times as though he had forgotten he'd not been the only one there.

They thought it might be his PTSD re-surging, a wave of old memories causing him grief in his midlife crises- they should have noticed it sooner, should have done something, said something, pushed him to see a professional...but no one wanted to talk about it.

No one wanted to notice the growing elephant in the room and break the fragile world that everything was okay.

Everything was...not okay.

Everything was dismal and bleak.

Early Dementia is what the doctors said, most likely brought on by the multiple recorded concussions in Steve's medical history and as both Billy and the other's knew...ones that weren't listed.

The guilt was...immeasurable. Steve himself was the only one who even dared be positive over the diagnosis, holding Billy tight in his arms to sooth both Billy and himself.

"It's okay...It's not your fault...Don't ever blame yourself." Steve kissed Billy on the crown of his head where they sat together, the warmth of their shared bedroom of the last thirty years both a comfort and a reminder of their aging bodies- aging minds.

Billy would blame himself though, nothing would ever be able to pry that nail out of his heart, that one rusted nail of grief and guilt over maybe being the deciding factor, the tipping point. The Reason.

The doctors said there were ways to slow the onset of the disease, ways to build up healthy memory functions and regain small bits of self reliance and autonomy, but it wasn't a cure.

There wasn't a cure and Billy wanted to tare down entire cities with his rage over that fact. How could other dimensions with monsters and little girls with mind powers be real...but not a simple cure for a fucking disease?

It's not fair.

It's not right.

It's not supposed to happen to them, they saved the world more times than should have been necessary and-...and now they have to suffer too?

Was it not enough to bleed and to cry and too loose and to wake panicked in the night over wind and rain at their windows or the darkness of the night?

It wasn't fair.

And Steve- Steve was so...so good, so calm, so caring, so attentive to those around him already processing the grief of their loved one who was still there...but fading. Always fading.

"You know...I'm glad it's me." Steve would say, tears in his eyes as he smiled. "I'm- so glad I don't have to watch you or any of the kids...disappear."

It was selfish of Steve to say, in Billy's opinion, because he had to watch it. Billy had to watch Steve disappear and the kids had to watch him disappear and it hurt so goddamned bad.

But Billy knew he couldn't grieve his lover while he still lived, it wasn't right, it wasn't fair to Steve and it wasn't fair to the kids.

It wasn't fair but it was happening and the only thing they could do was to just keep living their lives. Keep experiencing and making new memories, take photos and write letters, buy shirts with event names, sign cards with love and kisses, visit more and just...exist more.

Billy and Steve's house had always been the hangout spot, but after Steve's diagnosis, it became a second home for anyone and everyone whenever they wanted. Photos cluttered the walls, memories and dates written down and notes pinned to pinboards so Steve could look back on things in case he forgot them.

It became their thing, the Wall of Memories, they called it, and it was all for Steve.

And after Steve could no longer leave his home, when Billy became his primary care person who dealt with Steve's worst days and made sure he was present for Steve's best, the Wall of Memories became Steve's home, his world.

The living room became the bedroom, the bedroom became the third guest room and when all of that was gone, when the living room bedroom was no longer needed and the smell of hospital soap and white linens took over, the Wall of Memories became everyone's.