#he’s emotional!!!!! he cares!!!!!!! he tries protecting himself with anger and sarcasm but he feels so much it bursts out of him anyway

[aceattorneyrambles]

One of my favorite character moments (and the thing that immediately made me love him) for Apollo that I think is so intensely important to understanding him goes way back to Case 2 of Ace Attorney: Apollo Justice.

In that case, Trucy stages a “kidnapping” by using Mr. Hat to distract the court, and when Apollo rushes out into the lobby and sees her safe and sound…

He cries.

He’s so overcome with worry and relief that he cries for a girl he barely knows. A girl who, for all intents and purposes, almost cost him the badge he worked so hard to gain. A girl who focused most of the time they did know each other teasing him and not taking him seriously.

And yet, he cries for her anyway. He sobs, even.

It’s a throwaway moment, likely done for comedic effect, but it really hit me, and Trucy’s immediate earnest response telling Apollo not to cry and then him doubling down with protective rage on her behalf hit it home harder, y’know?

Apollo Justice, at his core, cares. Despite his surly attitude a lot of the time, this is nonetheless a defining trait of his. He cares, so much, and so easily, and we see it firsthand right there as he cries for a near stranger.

(And I also think it’s worth noting that the first time we really, truly see Trucy lower her performance mask and cry herself…it’s to Apollo.)

[allthosepeopleilovetofangirlover]

DATING DEAN WINCHESTER HEADCANONS

Dean is the guy who'd pretend that he's the best in the entire universe, but he'll get nervous if he ever sees someone slightly more attractive than him.

He loves to watch movies with you, even more so if they're of his choice. Cuddling on the couch in the Bunker and watching a movie is his favourite evening activity, and he's constantly looking at your face throughout the movie to see if you like it or not.

Dean doesn't want you to accompany him on hunts, especially if the creature you have to hunt happens to be particularly dangerous, like a vampire or a werewolf.

He'll never try to control you, but he will get insanely protective of you and you have had many arguments based on that.

Arguments that almost always get resolved by angry sex or intense makeout sessions.

But for the ones that don't, you two eventually find your way back to each other.

He'll never admit it, but he loves it when you treat him with affection and give him flowers.

If it wasn't obvious, Dean is touch-starved, and you figure it out very soon into your relationship. You make sure to give him reassuring touches ever so often, especially in the times of stress.

Dean is very grateful for those touches, and keeps reciprocating the gesture, but in a much wilder way.

He is very possessive, and will glare daggers at anyone who stares at you for too long. Men who know him know how dangerous he is, and how well he can fight, so they stay away from you. But the strangers who try to look at you in any way other than respect, Dean will not hesitate to throw punches.

For all his playboy ways, he's extremely loyal to you. Will not even look at any other girl when you're in the picture. You're the only one he wants and needs.

Dean likes to pull pranks on you. They're harmless, obviously. He loves to see that adorable expression on your face when you don't know what's wrong when you're being pranked. Once you realise it however, it doesn't take a lot of time for that expression to go from adorable to angry.

You love to pull pranks on him as well, often teaming up with Sam to teach his older brother a lesson. Sam loves it, and though Dean pretends to be angry and offended, he's laughing on the inside.

Frequent rides in the Impala, especially when it's drizzling and a cool breeze is blowing. He just likes to go on long drives with you, no distance is too long with you by his side.

Dean tells you stories of his childhood, yes, even the bad ones. The good ones to get a good laugh while the bad ones for you to get more acquainted with his reality, to know who he really is.

He had taken a lot, and I mean a LOT of time to open up emotionally, it was extremely difficult for him to not be guarded at all times. But nothing is too difficult when it comes to you.

Now, he opens up to you and talks to you about how he feels, instead of hiding his real emotions behind corny jokes and sarcasm.

Whenever you get mad at him, he immediately gets to know and tries his best to make sure that you aren't mad, the process including more corny jokes but you learned to love them anyway.

Sam loves the way you have a positive effect on his brother, how you calm him down from both anger and stress, how you make him less reckless and more affectionate.

The most important thing however, is the fact that you make him less self-destructive. He takes a lot of care of you, but along with you, he has started to learn how to cherish and love himself as well.

You bring out the best in him, and he brings out the best in you.

You're his yin, and he's your yang. Both of you wouldn't have it any other way.

[valkerymillenia]

please make a post about bruce wayne being autistic

I already have, for several years now I've been saying that Bruce Wayne is neurodivergent and most likely autistic, but I don't think I've made a very detailed post specifically here on Tumblr so... Might as well?

With the arrival of "The Batman" and Pattison giving us a Bruce Wayne portrayal that most definitely reflects a neurodivergent Batman the way he should be, more and more people are starting to adhere to the autistic!Bruce headcanon and I'm all for it but many still argue that it's not canon to the comics, I beg to differ (and I'm hyper focused right now) so let's make a post about it, shall we?

Proof that canon Bruce is very likely in the autistic spectrum

For starters, Bruce canonically has PTSD (and anger issues that come with it) and OCD. He also suffers from acute anxiety and depression but none of this takes away from the fact that he's been autistic-coded for decades and not just in the comics, in fact, I'm going to be talking about the character across several types of media.

Also, remember that autism is a spectrum and every person is different.

Let's start with this actual panel from "Batman: The Imposter", it's a recent (2021-2022) black label comic but it's relevant since it features the point of view of a therapist/psychiatrist on young Bruce.

But now, let's get to the rest.

Brucie is excellent at mirroring, masking and generally BS-ing people!

As an adult he uses scripting a lot and his detective skills to pick up cues from people and act as they expect of him. Very good at playing pretend, not so good at real relationships. He reads people through factual data, analyzing micro-expressions, posture and words like a puzzle rather than naturally understanding social cues. (Additionally, he actually has fun playing different characters like Brucie or Matches.)

He's extremely empathetic (my god, so much hyper empathy) but also struggles with alexithymia.

He feels so much empathy that he literally cannot stop caring, he cares so much that he tries to protect the city with his bare hands, throws money at a million causes and will always go the extra mile for people (such as, for example, offering a Wayne Ent. job to an underage prostitute to get her off the streets).

He feels all this compassion but can't quite express it, he has a lot of trouble being emotionally demonstrative and picking up the right social cues, vulnerability does not come easy to him and neither does abstract expression.

He uses a flat tone, he's monotone and generally expressionless when he's not trying to fake a reaction or emotion, so he comes off as disconnected and disinterested and that causes friction with people like Dick and Clark.

He tends to express himself more in actions than words precisely because verbal expression is hard for him (unless he has time to plan out his speeches or is being very blunt).

Examples:

When Dick tells Bruce he's dating Babs and Bruce just grunts and shows no reaction, Dick misinterprets as lack of interest but Bruce actually just has no idea what reaction is expected of him.

He's incredibly blunt and to the point, he says exactly what he means and sometimes comes off as very confrontational, he doesn't go through the trouble of lying to make people feel better (I don't want to think about the Ric arc but... the Ric arc). If he has to lie to play a part or mask, he will often resort to sarcasm.

When he wanted to adopt Tim he was so bad at putting his intentions in words that Tim couldn't understand him and Bruce had to ask Alfred to explain/show him.

He hates small talk with a passion and goes out of his way to avoid it, he says what he has to say and leaves, if he wants to know how someone is doing he will go check/spy on them rather than simply ask (literally does this with the whole family). This also extends to Batman's habit of just disappearing mid-conversation once he feels he has as much info as he needs.

When Bruce gets engaged (and I'm referring to the almost-wedding with Selina in this case) he has trouble telling his kids and best friends about it because he doesn't understand why it would be important to them and doesn't know how to say it.

When Bruce is proud with Damian's efforts reigning in his violent tendencies early in their Batman and Robin partnership he had this interaction with Alfred- A: "Did you tell Damian you are proud of him?", B: "Of course.", A: "What exactly did you say?", B: "I said I found his efforts commendable.", A: *sigh* "Couldn't you just say you are proud of him?", B: *visibly confused* "Isn't that exactly what I did?"

When he and Dick have that rough patch where Dick leaves and stops being Robin (right before he becomes Nightwing), a lot of that bs is because Bruce can't properly express himself and pushes Dick away instead telling him that he's letting him go for his own good.

When Jason comes back as Red Hood and is so pissed at Bruce for not killing Joker to avenge him and for replacing him with Tim? Bruce could have told Jason that he did in fact try to kill Joker to avenge him but was stopped by Superman (and a whole lot of other bs) and he didn't replace him with Tim, he rejected Tim and Tim stalked him and made himself Robin against Bruce's wishes. Would this explanation had helped with Jason's anger? Probably not but Bruce didn't even think to try because he didn't know how to express himself and that bullshit spiraled out of control.

Clark: "I know you didn't bring me back because you like me." B: "I don't...not like you."

Another canon interaction- B: "Family is...good." Jason: "What are you trying to tell me?" B: "I just told you." Dick: "He's telling you he loves you." B: "Isn't that what I just said?"

Hyper empathy- he pays for the Graysons' funeral and takes Dick in literally out of empathy, he sees himself in this boy and he thinks the most rational reaction to this is to adopt the kid, and he does it again with Jason.

SO. MANY. ENGAGEMENTS. He's so bad at expressing or even understanding emotion that when he falls in love he does it HARD and is really bad at expressing it so he just jumps right to the ring. Granted, this is a product of writers re-hashing the same classic climax and drama tropes with love interests over 80 years of history but I went through the comics and counted, Bruce was engaged at least 9 times (11 if we don't nitpick too much).

(I have a hundred more examples but this is getting long as it is.)

Real emotional expressions are rare and that makes them stand out, they can also be extreme and/or inappropriate.

Some examples of his extreme emotion reactions could be adopting the kids so easily, or punching people as a first instinct when he gets mad or overwhelmed, even when it's unnecessary (I could give a dozen examples of this one but my favorite is during the Court of Owls nonsense when he discovers the Owls put an electrum implant in Dick's tooth and rather than explain this to Dick while they are having a calm conversation about the CoO, he just pauses to punch Dick in the middle of the conversation in order to knock the fake tooth out, talk about a drama king).

Lack of social skills.

He doesn't even try to be social as Batman (and we've established that Brucie is a mask), and often misses certain jokes or sarcasm and has a very skewed sense of humor (often finding things funny that others don't or saying amusing things totally unintentionally).

His grunts or just outright refusal to answer certain things. Vocal stims. He seems to actually go non-verbal from time to time.

He has a lot of complex feelings but often doesn't understand them or know how to show them. Canon Dick, Clark and Jason don't often 'get' Bruce and become very frustrated by his lack of communication and his avoidance of emotional topics.

One of the reasons he connected so well with Cassandra Cain before Rebirth is because he doesn't have to talk to her, she can understand his feelings purely through his body language and that is clearly a massive relief for him.

When he's alone with Selina he shows a very soft romantic side but even there he has trouble knowing the right thing say or what is expected.

As an example, the proposal comes to mind- B: "marry me." S:"no" [some time later] S:"ask me again, but this time ASK, don't say it at me." B:"will you marry me?" S:"yes".

(Also, literally all his repressed reactions to the break up after she left him at the altar.)

He has canonically had meltdowns as a child in the comics (and shutdows in the "Gotham" show). It can be argued that some of his extreme (often violent) reactions to certain things as an adult could also be called meltdowns.

Rejection sensitive dysphoria. I think this one is really obvious, the man would rather block out anything emotion-related than face rejection, it's often a big trigger for his depressive tendencies.

He has "special interests".

Batman started as a symbol (let's not forget he has a bat phobia) but he became obsessed with all things bat-related, obviously. But he also has more specific and personal interests- detective work (he will make up puzzles if there's nothing to solve or he will actively look for trouble if everything else has been handled), making gadgets, dinosaurs, Grey Ghost, Zorro comics, classic lit, etc.

He hyperfixates on his interests and hyperfocuses on specific tasks A LOT to the point of injury and forgoing basic needs. A good example of his hyperfocus is how he handles specific Batman cases.

He info dumps! Enough said.

He has told Gordon that he "doesn't change his routine" and there was a whole panel about the importance of routine for him, including doing the same rituals every night. When he has to take a break from patrolling due to injuries, more than once it's been shown how it's almost physically uncomfortable for him to have that routine interrupted even when there's no specific case to follow up on.

Sensory issues!!!

Bruce has shown to like quiet and darkness, he's shown in some forms of media to be sensitive to bright light, he prefers to avoid crowds when he can, he has a massively high pain tolerance, he has a specific type of clothes he feels comfortable in and doesn't deviate from them (not the bat-suit but rather his damn turtlenecks).

He is a picky eater and likes very spicy food and sweets (autistic people either prefer bland foods and certain textures to avoid overstimulation or they go for very strong intense flavors precisely because they need the stimulation, Bruce is the latter, Alfred often sways him with sweets and it's official that his favorite food is spicy mulligatawny soup). In fact, he's such a picky eater that he has stubborn eating habits (like forgetting to eat entirely) and doesn't see anything wrong with feeding young Dick nothing but chips because it's "what Dick likes".

The entire design of the bat-suit could be connected to sensory things: his cape is very heavy, which could be connected to pressure stimming (it's so heavy that when Dick becomes Batman he complained and had to have a lighter cape made), if you really think about it his cowl is designed in a way that can filter out excessive stimuli (lights and sounds) and help him focus on specific things, etc, etc.

As a kid he connects better with adults because of his intellectual level, but as an adult he connects a lot more easily with children and teens.

This is shown both with people he rescues and with the people around him, there's a reason he connects and works so well with the young Robins but starts having communication issues with them when they grow up. (It's not mentioned often but a typical trait of people in the spectrum is that they tend to have problems connecting with people in their own age group).

Outside of life-or-death situations he often avoids physical contact as much as possible, even with people he cares about, and sometimes even when he's clearly touch-starved he doesn't usually initiate contact.

It seems to depend a lot on the level of trust he has for people. If a person he trusts initiates it he gets awkward but enjoys it, Dick is a good example; if a person he's not close to initiates contact he often shows annoyance or discomfort. It requires a high level of intimacy for him to initiate contact but when he does he's extremely affectionate (scenes with Selina or any of the his kids come to mind).

He likes making lists, files and hoarding information.

There's a scene where someone apologizes because the info they gave wasn't helpful at all and Bruce's reply was "I know more than I did 10 minutes ago. I like information." He also keeps very extensive (and often invasive) files about people he knows and has his famous contingency plans for every superhero he knows.

He's very methodical and organized about these things (like his case files and reports) but...

...he's a naturally messy person as seen by the state the manor and cave fall into when Alfred is not around and has difficulty taking care of himself, not because he's some sort spoiled rich man-child but because he underestimates his own needs and limits. EDIT: this is executive dysfunction. Both Battison and comic Bruce seem to need prompting for basic things like taking a shower or cleaning up after themselves as they seem to forget their own needs.

When he's not masking, he has a very atypical body language, such as his skulking and looming, avoiding eye contact, his evasiveness, the way he can stay inhumanly still for long periods of time if he needs to but is also extremely impatient and often doesn't stay still (I remember a panel where the cave computer takes 8 seconds to process some data and Bruce still complains it's too slow and needs and update, much to Clark's confusion).

.

I have more but this list is so long already and I'm tired.

I also had some comic panels but I don't have the patience to find them and pick out them out (tumblr has a 10 picture per post limit anyway). Might edit this later if I find any. If anyone knows the different sources, comic issues or has the different panels and gifs, feel free to add them.

SMALL EDIT: Martian Manhunter also claimed that being in Bruce's mind is very unpleasant. This could easily be because of the amount of trauma or intrusive thoughts from OCD but it's also very possible he was talking about experiencing the world and likely sensory overload from Bruce's perspective.

[beels-burger-babe]

I Burn For You

***So THIS has been stuck in my head all day and I just- I love it. I love it so much. And it reminded me...So you guys all know how I hate/love Lucifer...it gave me those vibes. So........... Well I haven't written anything actually relevant to The Facade of the Suitor or anything else that I've been procrastinating, I have been able to push out this little short inspired by this beauty of a duet that is EVERYTHING to me. -B***

Summary: Since MC's arrival, Lucifer and them have never fully gotten along. There was always a large, unknown and undiscussed tension between them and they were fine to keep it that way. But when MC's security in the Devildom is threatened by both the angels and the nobility of the Devildom itself, everything changes. As a ruse to persuade the celestial realm, MC and Lucifer wed. After the ceremony, they finally talk about the unacknowledged feelings burning inside of both of them.

MC x Lucifer

The air hung heavy and thick like the gold bands that now decorated both of your fingers.

You and Lucifer stood on opposite sides of the room, your backs facing one another with nothing but silence between you.

You couldn't help but reminisce on how you got here, on your supposed 'honeymoon' married to none other but the prideful, arrogant, avatar of sin, Lucifer Morningstar himself.

Diavolo had burst into the House of Lamentation an entire month ago. He desperately explained how the angels had received word about you through the fond, innocent-intending, stories of Luke and we're demanding that you be 'released' from your 'imprisonment in the infernal Devildom and that they wished to cleanse you of the 'hellish corruption' the demons had 'forced upon you' through your pacts. Wanting to avoid yet another Celestial War, even on a small scale, the noble court had wanted to agree and simply hand you over to them, cut your pacts, and banish you from returning as an act of agreement and co-operation with the angels.

Obviously, this didn't sit well with you or any of the brothers.

You had all tried to come up with a number of plans, but they all promised retaliation from the angels.

Eventually, it was Lucifer himself who begrudgingly came up with the final plan. The angels wouldn't believe you if you simply told them that you liked it here and wanted to stay. They'd think you were charmed or manipulated. However, if the two of you worked together, and pretended to be in a relationship, convince the angels of your 'genuine' feelings and prove to them that you were in love, and finalize this by marrying Lucifer, it just might work.

First of all, love was something that had sparked war in the past, that both sides had learned from and had grown to deeply treasure and value. Secondly, Micheal, head Archangel of the Celestial Realm, trusted Lucifer the most of all the brothers. The two of you could take advantage of that use it to convince him that you were actually safer in the Devildom by Lucifer's side. And finally, if you were willingly bound by marriage, there was very little that the Celestial Realm could do to force you to leave.

The plan wasn't terrible, but there was one thing about it that caused you to clench your fists and grind your teeth: it was with Lucifer.

Lucifer who constantly teased you and pushed your buttons in a way that he knew would cause you to either give in to him or snap.

Lucifer who was cruel and sadistic and did nothing unless there was some personal gain or it was under the demand of his precious Diavolo.

Lucifer who never ever put anything before his own stupid pride.

Though you were normally a calm and positive person, there was just something about Lucifer that had always caused an inferno of anger and rebellion to burn within you. You felt this strong need to constantly prove him wrong and to defy him.

As a result, the two of you consistently butted heads, arguing about Lucifer's treatment of his brothers and your recklessness on an almost weekly basis.

The idea of being chained to this...this demon for the rest of your mortal life caused your stomach to twist tightly into knots. Though, if it ensured you'd be able to stay with the rest of your found family? You'd make the necessary sacrifice.

So the two of you did the whole show. You went on dates, smiled and laughed together as though you were the lead roles in a Hallmark Christmas movie, and played every card in the book to convince the angels that you were safe and happy under the kind watch of your lover.

Those weeks had started off painful, as you pushed back all feelings of disdain for the eldest brother to play the role of the perfect partner. But as time passed, you hadn't noticed that it had become easier and easier to stay by his side. The smiles you gave him were no longer forced, but sincere ones that brought joy. The lines between what was real and what was fake began to blur.

You sealed the deal with your wedding only a few hours ago.

The vows Lucifer had spoken...promising to watch and protect you even as your skin wrinkled and your hair grew grey. To hold your hand and aid you when you no longer had the strength. To shower you in love and devotion even in your final hours.

They had been spoken with such passion and raw emotion that you didn't dare think too deeply about. It had caused your breath to catch in your throat, and you had to remind yourself that this was all an act. Soon the curtain would close, and Lucifer would return to the cold-hearted monster that you knew.

Yet even now, hours after the ceremony had finished, you couldn't get that intense gaze, and the sparks that exploded under your fingertips as his hands gently squeezed yours, out of your head.

Lucifer sighed from the other side of the room and glanced over at you. "Are we just going to continue ignoring each other?"

You scoffed and turned your head further away; ignoring the loud pounding of your heart and instead focusing on the flickers of frustration licking up your gut. "What else are we supposed to do? There's no one else around. The act is over."

You whirled around at his sarcasm and could practically feel the wrath blazing behind your eyes. "Sorry, my Lord, if I'm not exactly giddy about the fact that I just signed myself to the likes of you just for the approval of some fluffy winged assholes!"

You could practically hear Lucifer roll his eyes as he walked over to the liquor cart and poured himself a drink. "Right. So you just plan to spend the entirety of the weekend that Micheal paid for us brooding in a corner? How mature of you."

Lucifer, the fucker, had the gull to act unphased and casually swirled his drink in his hand. "It could be much, much worse," he took a sip of the amber liquid before staring down in his glass. "It's not as though you didn't agree to this."

"Only because I didn't want to be kicked out of the Devildom and never allowed to see your brothers again!" You growled. Your anger only grew as you noticed him clench his fingers tighter around the glass. You groaned and ran a hand through your hair. "This was a stupid plan! You probably just invented this entire ruse as yet another way to get under my skin. Well congratulations, Lucifer. You win!"

You refused to look at him, as you turned your heated gaze out the window.

You didn't see the flash of hurt that washed over his expression, nor hear the way his breath caught in his throat. "Is being married to me truly that awful? Are you honestly telling me that you haven't enjoyed even a single second of this past month?"

You tensed and crossed your arms over your chest, as you continued to avoid looking at him. "What kind of question is that? You're a demon who cares about nothing but himself," you pursed your lips and mentally tried to deny just how wrong those words felt on your tongue.

"I wouldn't say that's true. Believe it or not, I do care for my brothers." There was a shaky breath, one so uncharacteristic for the confident Morningstar, before he continued. "And you. I did promise to love you until your final breath after all, and I do not break my promises."

There was silence once again. Though this quiet seemed to crackle with the anticipation for something, though neither of you quite knew what.

You closed your eyes, refusing to acknowledge the flutter in your heart at his words. "Those vows were only part of the act. They weren't real."

"Perhaps not for you," your eyes snapped open at the response. You looked back at the demon. Lucifer stood leaning against the wall, drink still in hand, as he stared intensely at the floor. "This may have all been an act for you, MC, but it stopped being a ruse for me mere hours after we began."

You felt yourself frown as you stared at him. Your traitor heart dared to grow warm with hope, only adding fuel to the growing frustration inside you. "You're lying. You're just trying to get me worked up again."

"Actually, I'm not," his eyes met yours and it felt as though time froze. His expression was so unguarded, so honest. For once, you looked into his eyes and you could see every emotion that he wore openly before you. You could see the hurt, the certainty, and most of all the same passionate love that shone so brightly in them throughout the ceremony. "From the moment I met you, you caused a fire to ignite in my heart. I was determined to control you and to make you be the human representative for Diavolo. But then, you acted against me, and that changed. I still wanted to make sure that you fulfilling your purpose in the exchange program, but I took on the challenge of finally having you respect and listen to me. You were stubborn and fierce, yet so beautifully driven and I admired that." your eyes widened at the admission. "It wasn't until I was forced to look at you in a romantic light for this scheme that I understood the true nature of these feelings. It wasn't that I wanted to control you, or break you, or shape you into what I needed. It was so much deeper, so much more dangerous than that. I wanted to have you fall in love for me, as I had fallen for you, and make you mine."

He sighed heavily and ran a hand through his hair. "I know you don't feel the same. I've accepted that. But I...I'm done with acting like this isn't real for me. I refuse to pretend that there's nothing there between us any longer."

He finally broke eye contact, looking back at his now empty glass as you practically gaped at him. Love. Lucifer...loved you? You gulped and took a step towards him, "Lucifer..."

The fire burning within you consumed you as your face heated up. "You...You love me? You actually love me?"

You flinched as he glared sharply at you. "Don't rub it in."

You didn't know what to make of that. You weren't sure what to make of any of this. Your feelings towards Lucifer had changed over the past month, but you had assumed that was simply part of the act. But if everything he had done and said as you two were pretending to be a couple was real, then what did that mean for you?

What did that mean for the way the sight of him caused your heart to skip? Or the way his rare smiles never failed to make you smile back? Or the unwavering sense of comfort and security that he provided?

What did that mean for the ruthless, scalding fire that he had always caused to rage inside you? You always assumed it was anger, but what if...

You gasped in realization. "I burn for you."

The demon tensed as he blinked in confusion. "You...I'm sorry, you what?"

You moved closer to him, each step more certain than the last, as you shakily spoke the words that rang through you. "I burn for you, Lucifer. I don't know entirely what it means myself, but ever since we met you've caused this irrational passion and drive to sear inside of me. I-I had always assumed it was hatred. You're so infuriating. Every word you speak does nothing but cause that fire to flare brighter within in. Every action leaves me filled with sparks of restless energy that won't be satiated until I combust at you," as you now stood nearly toe to toe with him, you grabbed his hand and placed it over your roaring heart. Hope flickered like a candle in the darkness of his black eyes. "I had thought that this couldn't be anything other than anger and hatred. I refused to believe even the possibility that it could be anything else. But this past month you...you were honest and almost kind and vulnerable. Your teasing didn't make me want to punch you, but rather made me laugh. You showed me a side of you that I didn't even know existed. I...I think-"

You were cut off by a finger on your lips. Lucifer looked down at you with a stern, cold expression. The action paired with that face would've caused you to become infuriated by his audacity and superiority complex in the past. But now you could see past it, and could see it for what it truly was: a carefully crafted barrier that hid his most vulnerable feelings and protected him. "If you do not mean the words you were about to say, if you are pitying me, I must demand that you stop here. Do not say those words unless you truly mean them," his deep voice was tinged with distrust and caution.

You held his gaze as you kissed the pad of the finger against your lips and whispered gently, "Lucifer, I think that I love you."

Suddenly your lips were captured in his as he pulled you close and ever so adoringly cupped your face. For the first time since meeting him, the flames inside you were extinguished by the cold touch of his hands on your face and the surprising gentleness of his affection.

His hand slid from your face and came to rest on your shoulder as his eyes widened. His gaze scanned your expression for any traces of falsehood or insincerity. You could hear the breath leave his lungs as he found none.

He softly kissed his temple, effectively hiding his face as it grew redder and whispered, "Of course, beloved."

Lucifer laughed as he pulled away, his thumb caressing your cheek, as he smiled. "To think it only took us getting married to realize it," you laughed as you felt happy tears prick the corners of your eyes. Lucifer sighed in content as rested his forehead against yours. "Remind me to send a thank you to, Micheal."

You hummed and nuzzled closer to him as you rested your head on his shoulder. "Forget Micheal. He's still an asshole as far as I'm concerned. Instead, focus on me. On us. I want to learn everything about you, about the real you," you smiled as he looked down at you with flushed cheeks. "My husband, Lucifer Morningstar."

You couldn't help but wonder how you had been so oblivious to your true feelings as a shiver ran down your spine and warmth spread throughout your chest simultaneously.

This honest and pure love between the two of you, was new, yet it felt so familiar, and it was abundantly clear to both of you that the depth of those feelings would only become clearer and clearer in time as the fires of your love only grew.

***Gasp. I actually finished something. Would you look at that. Well, I hope you guys enjoyed this little fic! Thank you so much for your support during my hiatus and for being so understanding. I love you guys! Thanks again for reading!***

Taglist: @thegrimgrinningghost @henry-and-the-seven-lords @satans-beloved-riv @cosmixbun @sufzku @lovelymushi @victoireshaven @obey-mes-treasure @kissed-by-a-dementor @yukihaie @justtiarra @mammoneybb @obeys-world @poly-bi-mf @armycandy10 @burrixino

[rey-is-not-a-skywalker]

Gladiolus Amicita SFW alphabet.

Warnings: none.

Felt like doing another one, so here we go! Remember to leave requests for any characters you would like to see next!

Enjoy! ❤

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A - Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Gladio doesn't care where you are, he'll always show affection to you. He loves to be affectionate towards you in many ways- be it grabbing your waist and pulling you in, or something like head rubs and messing your hair up a little- he does love seeing you like that.

B - Best Friend (What would they be like as a best friend? Where does the friendship start?)

He's the motivational friend, but not the 'you can do it', kind of motivational, oh no. It's more... 'Get your head outta your ass and pull yourself together' kind of motivation.

C - Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

He will happily let you cuddle up to him. He loves laying on the sofa and having you rest on his chest. Usually he will put an arm around you as you both lay there with blankets keeping you both warm.

D - Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking, cleaning, ect?)

Though he doesn't usually show it, he is actually an amazing cook, especially when it comes to meat, egg, and fish. He tends to steer away from cooking a meal though, and will instead make you both a lovely cup noodle with only the freshest ingredients. Cleaning wise, he isn't the best at cleaning, but he will do so from time to time.

E - Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

He would only break up with a partner if he had a very good reason to. For example, if you were being purposely rude, or if his royal duties prevented him from being with you. In the first scenario, he would be straight to the point, and wouldn't show much emotion. In the second one, he'd also be straight to the point, but he'd show some emotion. He knows you would understand though, and he hopes you can be together again someday.

F - Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? Do they wanna get married?)

Honestly, I cannot see Gladio getting married. I think he'd be too caught up in his royal duties to want to commit to anything, especially something that would last as long as a marriage. He would also have to make sure you were 'the one' before even considering a full commitment.

G - Gentle (How gentle are they both physically and emotionally?)

Physically, he tries to be as gentle as he can. He does try, really he does, but his chunky body makes it difficult sometimes. Emotionally, he won't be very gentle if you're sulking like a baby- he'll most likely tell you to snap back to reality, but if you really are struggling, he might give you a hug or two. He's not the greatest at advice, but he will give you an amazing pep talk.

H - Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it, and what are they like?)

He loves them. He will do it whenever, wherever, as long as you are okay with it. His hugs are usually warm, and he's able to properly embrace you- his large self makes sure of that.

I - I Love You (How fast do they say the “love” word?)

Slowly. He doesn't want to commit to anything too quickly, and these words are only really words he uses with his very close family, and even then, it's on very rare occasions.

J - Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What are they like when jealous?)

Gladio doesn't get openly jealous. Yes, he will get jealous, but he doesn't show it. If you're flirting with another, he'll silently observe you until you're alone, or until he can't take it anymore, in which case he'll drag you away and have a word with you.

K - Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Gladio likes to be explorative about his kisses- particularly where he kisses you. He'll sometimes go for the fingers, maybe the cheek, but his absolute favorite thing to do, is lift you up and kiss your forehead.

L - Little Ones (How are they around kids?)

This man is amazing around kids. He'll make sure that they're always happy, and if they're not, he'll try and cheer them up. He acts like an older sibling to children... though, he's not at all prepared to have his own kids.

M - Morning (What are mornings like with them?)

Mornings with Gladio are usually non-existent. The truth is, he wakes up at the early hours in the morning to train, so unless you're willing to wake up at 4am and go on a run, you don't see him in the morning until breakfast time.

N - Nights (How are nights spent with them?)

Usually very slow. Gladio stays awake at night not only to kill some daemons, but also... to play games on his phone. He loves it when you're able to stay up late too and play some games with him.

O - Open (When do they open up about themselves?)

Never. He doesn't see a need for such sob stories, and he especially doesn't want to upset you. If anything ever comes up with everyone else opening up or telling people anything, he'll just remain silent.

P - Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Very easily. I mean, only a few things anger him, but those few things are... well, quite common. First of all, Noct can be infuriating from time to time. Another thing that tends to anger him is people that try to hurt Noctis. They try to hurt him? Oh well, he's expendable. But Noctis...? He will not be having that today, no siree.

Q - Quizzes (How much do they remember about you?)

E V E R Y T H I N G. You can tell this man anything, and he will remember it. Sometimes he even remembers word for word what you rant about. It's not like this man has a good memory, it's just... he's very observant of you.

R - Remember (Favorite memory with you?)

When you went to Galdin Quay and sat on the beaches... with a pot of cup noodles in both of your hands. In his eyes, there's nothing better than the sea breeze as you eat, and the way your hair was flowing in the wind was just magnificent to him. After you finished your noodles, the two of you had a mini water fight in the shallows of the sea water.

S - Security (How protective are they?)

There's not a word to describe how protective he is. He will stick by your side, 24/7, and his reflexes are the best you ever did see. If someone was shooting at you, he'd take all the bullets for you. If someone was out to assassinate you, likelihood is, he'd spy the assassin and kill them before they had the chance to even touch you.

T - Tears (Do they ever cry? Are they open about it, and why do they cry?)

Very rarely. In fact, the only time Gladio cries is when he loses a loved one, or a dear friend. Even then, it's not a lot of tears, and he will pull himself together after a while, and keep pushing forward. He only wants to impress you, even in the afterlife.

U - Ugly (What are their bad habits?)

His sarcasm. This may not seem bad at first, but when he's making a sarcastic remark every two sentences, it does become a bit of a problem, especially at times where he's supposed to be serious.

V - Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

For the most part, Gladio doesn't care much how he looks, but he will do little things, like making sure his hair and beard is well groomed, and presentable.

W - Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Short awnser- yes. Long awnser... Gladio would indeed feel incomplete without you, but he wouldn't show it. He wouldn't say anything. He'd just suffer without you, but he'd always keep fighting.

X - Xtra (Random HC)

He teaches you how to forage. This man loves nothing more than to go out into the woods with absolutely nothing with him, and just... survive. A big part of this is foraging, and he will teach you what all the best things to eat and pick are.

Y - Yuck (Things they don’t like either in general or a partner?)

Gladio doesn't like people who nitpick at every little detail. He wants to be who he is and do what be wants, without having anyone criticise him for being the way he is.

Z - Zzz (Sleep habits)

His sleep habits are all over the place. Sometimes, he'll stay up late, and wake up late, sometimes he'll stay up late and wake up early, or sometimes he might not just sleep at all. The man has no sleep pattern.

[theshelbyclan]

Swords and Daggers

Summary: When a family meeting is interrupted by your sudden menstrual cramps, your brothers do everything in their power to take care of you

(gif by @nofckingfighting​) A/N: Anon requested: can you do a shelby!sister imagine where she’s gets these awful cramps and in the middle of a family meeting she just bursts into tears because it hurts so bad and omg the boys would be so soft As I’m currently dying of cramps, it made sense to write this. It’s short, but I hope you like it. Words: 1585 *** “This Saturday,” Tommy started, “We’re going legit. John, you and Johnny Dogs are gathering the men at the Charlie’s yard. Arthur, I need you on the tracks, keep the Lee men off. You can take Finn. I will create a distraction and… Y/N, are you okay?” “Fine,” you ground out, not really wanting to attract attention to yourself, “Tell me where I’ll be.” 

“At home,” your brother said shortly. “Like hell I am,” you said, “If we’re going legit, I want in. Why the fuck else am I even here?” “Fuck if I know,” Polly sighed, “being decorative, I suppose.” Tommy shot daggers at his aunt and then turned back to you, “If you ladies have any problems with how I run…” “If we have any problems, we know to shut out mouths and get on with it,” Ada commented from the other side of the round table. “Remember we used to run this entire organisation, Thomas,” Polly scolded, “While you boys were off to France.” “Yes,” Thomas sighed, downing his drink, “I am aware, Pol,” Her look still had some effect on him, much to her satisfaction, “You remember that when you no longer care for our input.” “Fine!” he caved, “Y/N, what role do you want to play?” But you had stopped listening already. In all honesty, you didn’t feel well at all and so Tommy’s words seem to come from very far away. Still, you’d fought years and years to feel like you were a part of the Shelby Company Limited. Women were respected in this family, but never quite on the same level as the men. Sure, it’d been fine for you to take care of business while your brothers were away, and you and Aunt Polly had happily taken on the entire enterprise. With her head for strategy and your head for numbers, sharing the iron Shelby backbone, it’d been quite the dream team. But the boys came back and without many words of thanks, it’d been taken from you as well. There were so many mixed emotions that came with their return from France, but a day didn’t go by that you didn’t curse those men up top who decided to send boys into the mud to die for them. Tommy still stared at you, impatient and a little annoyed, so you said, “I’ll go to Epsom early. I still have the dress. I’ll let Arthur know where the Lee men are and what they’re planning.” Arthur grumbled something inaudibly and when you fixed him with one of your glares, he said, “You want to waltz in there, all dolled up and ready for the taking by any Lee bastard?” “Think I can’t do it, Arthur?” you said coldly. “We know you can do it,” Tommy interrupted, “Doesn’t mean we have to like it.” “I’m not fucking seven, Thomas,” you spat. Another sharp pain went through you and you found yourself physically doubling over in your chair. John immediately turned towards you, “What’s the matter?” “I’m good,” you tried to smile. “Doesn’t look like it…” “Maybe it’s food poisoning,” Arthur ventured. “It’s not.” “What is it then?” Both brothers said in unison. “Just…” you gritted your teeth as another wave of pain came over you, “leave me alone!” “Can’t do that, little sister,” Arthur moved to touch your arm, but you angrily pushed him away.

“She’s not doing good, Tommy,” John’s voice was full of alarm.

Arthur even stood up, “And she’s not fighting any bloody Lee men like that!”

“Calm down,” Aunt Polly said, “Women have been doing it for ages, every month, come hell or high water.”

“That may be so,” Tommy put down his drink, “but this is our sister.”

“I’m fine…” you croaked again, but you weren’t, at all.

“You’re not,” another unhelpful brother said, “you need to be in bed.”

“WILL YOU ALL FUCKING STOP TELLING ME WHAT TO FUCKING DO!” you suddenly burst out, and before you knew it, you had started sobbing.

“Oh no…” John said softly.

“Tom,” Arthur said unsurely, not knowing what to do with himself, “What do we do?”

He quickly took charge and picked you up from your seat. Held bridal style, he walked around the table and you could feel your brothers’ gaze on you, “She needs to be in bed.”

You still protested weakly, “Tommy…”

“Shhh,” he said softly, “We can talk about your plan to seduce the Lees in the morning, eh?”

As he walked with you up the stairs, you suddenly felt yourself lean into him. It felt safe, right there in his arms.

“Water bottles?” you heard one panicky brother shout downstairs.

“Boil the water!” the other replied, “I’ll get the blankets!”

“Ada! Where the bloody hell did you hide that chocolate?!”

You had to smile a little, “You’d think I’m dying…”

“Well, the truth is, sweetheart,” Tommy said in that soft voice he reserved only for you, “We have no idea what you’re going through. We spend half our lives talking to women, flirting with women, being with women…”

“Yeah, alright, I get the point,” you cut him off jokingly.

He pretended like he hadn’t heard you, but a small smile was tugging at his lips, “But we have no idea what it feels like, to lose all that blood…”

“What about France?” you asked.

“That was different, love,” he gently placed you on your bed, “That was a one-time thing and not a monthly struggle. Besides, we weren’t expected to just ignore it and get on with work.”

“I want to work,” you pouted.

Tommy sighed, “Y/N. Listen to me. I know you want to work for the company. I know you. You’re a Shelby and you don’t like being idle. I know. But for tonight, work is done. Get some sleep, eh?”

Suddenly, Arthur came rushing in. It was clear he felt incredibly awkward, but the fact that his arms were filled with hot-water bottles, blankets and chocolate showed he cared, deeply. There were times that you loved your awkward brother more than anyone in the world, and this was one of those moments. You smiled at him full of gratitude and he left quickly after, knowing he’d be back every few hours to check on you. He was the oldest brother after all.

You tried to find a comfortable position for a few moments and the occasional grunt of pain escaped your lips. Tommy looked at you with worry written all over his face, “Don’t know how you fucking do it every month…” he whispered.

“Careful,” you feigned shock, “people might think you’re a feminist.”

He slowly lit a cigarette, “And what if I am, eh?”

You scoffed and reached out, “Give me the cigarette. It helps.”

Another few minutes passed and John stuck his head around the door, “Y/N? Esme tells me it helps when I rub her back. Do you need me to do that?”

“I’ll be fine, John, thanks,” you smiled at him. Where you and Arthur had a bond that required no words, with John it was all words, but they were always good and open and honest. If you needed to talk, you turned to John.

He paused for a second, “What about a doctor, do you need a doctor?”

This made you laugh out loud, “John, sweetheart, this is perfectly normal and it does happen every month. We’d be wasting the doctor’s time!”

“Esme told me to tell you that it’s perfectly normal and there’s nothing wrong with you…”

“I know, John. I’m sixteen: I’ve been doing this for a while now.”

“Right,” he mumbled, “I knew that…”

“John?” you eventually asked and when he looked at you again, you said, “Thank you. I’ll manage.”

“Will you let me know?” John said with a serious look on his face, “If you do need something?”

“How? You’re four houses away. I’m not screaming loud enough for you to hear it, waking up the whole bloody street!”

“Just knock,” he replied, “Sleeping in my old bed tonight, just down the hall,” and before you could protest, he was gone and called from the hall, “Goodnight, babe!”

Tommy still sat in the corner, smoking quietly. You weren’t quite sure why he was there, but his presence was comforting. With Arthur it was protection, with John it was words, but with Tommy it was just his presence. When you two locked eyes, he gave you a warm smile, and it was just like you were six again. Before that god-awful war, he’d always been there. Tommy was the brother who couldn’t be dragged away from his little sister, always trying to get you to ride his pony. He followed you wherever you went and he gave you everything you ever wanted. But after the war, his head was filled with smoke, mud and ambition. But this, this felt like before, and it was good. Maybe it was even worth the swords and daggers attacking your uterus at the moment.

You started feeling yourself drifting off to sleep, with the warm bottle pressed against your abdomen. But before you slept, you mumbled, “I love you, Tommy…”

“Is this another hormonal thing?” a deep voice said in reply, with some sarcasm echoing through.

“Probably,” you smirked, “I’ll hate you again tomorrow, alright?”

“Good. You can take out that anger on the Lees, eh?”

“I will,” you heard your own voice was getting muffled. Still, you felt a small triumph of being allowed to go in the morning.

“Sleep, Y/N,” he almost sung, from a great distance it seemed, “And I love you too.”

***

Masterlist

[bcdwhcre]

may i request? one where levi and reader has suddenly parted ways leaving both of them heartbroken. fast forward to a few mos later, reader has moved w/ a new partner (but is still very much in love with levi) and then one day, both of them unintentionally crossed paths again (now as exes) levi reminisces their past and concludes that he still has feelings for reader. the ending is up to you tho! i love ur writing lol i’m rlly obsessed ❤️

“Reunited,” Levi x Reader

Summary: After you and Levi’s brutal breakup, you move on. Randomly, you two run into each other and ‘catch up’ but Levi confesses that he still loves you.

Warnings: none

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“I want you gone, I don’t want you here anymore!” You screamed at Levi, shoving your hands into his chest as you tried to push him away from you.

“Then fucking leave? No one is stopping you, Y/N.” Levi stood his ground, his arms crossed over his chest as he gave you a cold stare.

“You’re such a dick and you wonder why no one ever sticks around long enough.” You let it slip up, the painful words had crushed his heart in seconds.

“Yeah? Now I can see why you were alone in the first place.” He said, it was like venom from a snake bite- toxic.

“I hate you.” You mumbled, the tears running down your face didnt phase Levi- not anymore.

You two were having a full screaming match in his office, you were positive the scouts down the hall heard the full thing but it didn’t matter- the anger boiling inside of you made you not think of anyone else.

“Glad we both feel the same.”

His words hit you like a truck, even though your words were just as bad- you said them because Levi pushed you to that point. That’s all he did was push and push until you have a reaction.

This time you were done.

-

It had been months since you last seen Levi, you were heartbroken and long nights you cried and cried, hoping he would suck up his pride and ego to apologize to you but it never happened.

You quickly jumped into another relationship, hoping this would make you forget about Levi but it never worked. Every time your partner would kiss you or try to touch you, all you thought about was him and the way he made you feel.

It was painful. Extremely painful.

You tried to suck it up, hoping it would get better but as of now- it hasn’t and you’re having a hard time dealing with that.

Levi, on the other hand, has been distracted with the scouts but once his head hits the pillow late at night, his thoughts are always directed to you.

He wish he could see you, he wish he could hold you again but he felt like a burden, he felt like you were better off without him so he stayed away.

But one random day, he had went into the town after coming back from a expedition. He had separated from the group, going straight to the bar because even though he wasn’t a drinker, he needed something to make him forget.

His uniform was still on, the pained look on his face didn’t begin to describe how he felt on the inside. It was getting too much to handle, he felt like he needed these drinks.

Until he caught a quick glimpse of your face, his heart stopping as his feet froze on the concrete. The smile you had on made his heart race and he didn’t realize his feet were moving towards you until you both made eye contact and your smile fell.

“Levi,” You said, looking over at him and your partner stood behind you protectively as they stared down Levi.

“So this is the famous Levi.” They mumbled, making you turn around to face your partner.

“You can go on ahead, I’ll be fine.” You tried to get them to leave because frankly, you didn’t want them there.

Your partner had kissed your cheek on purpose, eyeing Levi as they left and he looked at you like he had seen a ghost. You moved on and Levi wanted to rip everyone apart to feel something other than the pain weighing on his chest.

You both stood in silence, you didn’t know what to say or what to do but you didn’t want to leave. You didn’t want this to be the last time you saw him. He gestured you to follow him inside the bar he was planning on going inside and you did, not a word has been spoken yet.

As the two of you sat down, Levi settling with whiskey and you just settled with a coffee- it was quiet and awkward. The tension was thick and you looked around the room to avoid eye contact.

“I didn’t know you found someone else.” He finally spoke, the sarcasm on his tongue was lingering and you can sense that he thought of your partner as a joke.

“Oh- yeah, three months.”

He gave you a wide eyed look, three months? He thought to himself. You two have only been broken up around five or six months and you were that quick to jump with someone else. It had shattered his heart more if that was even possible, laughing under his breath before downing his drink completely then asking for another.

“Levi,”

“So, did you not love me? Was our relationship a joke?” He cut you off, leaning forward against the table with a look of amusement on his face.

“Not at all, our relationship was everything to me.” You admitted, watching his eyes roll and he took another breath, trying to clam himself.

He didn’t want to argue with you, no, that’s not why he made you follow him in this lonely bar. In fact, he wanted to desperately kiss you, hug you. Shit, he wanted to drag you home and show you how much he missed you but when he saw your partner, his temper had taken over- along with his sadness.

“Y/N, I’m going to be honest with you.” He started off, looking into your eyes and it had made his heart skip a beat.

Suddenly his emotions had taken over, the flashbacks flooding his mind like they were yesterday. The first one he thought of was the time you two were in bed, he was trying to read a book and you were trying to get his attention. The way you would nudge him, purposely pull his eyes away from the book in his hands to look at you fully, the way your laugh would echo in his bedroom- he missed it.

Then the flashbacks of you taking care of him after expeditions, making sure to bandage his wounds and comfort him afterwards, making sure you reminded him how special he was and how grateful you were to have him.

It made him want to cry in your arms right now but he sat there. He made sure he kept himself well put together because he didn’t want to make you worry or hurt you in any way.

He didn’t realize how zoned out he was, the thoughts of you flooding his mind and the memories he shared with you- they were amazing and he couldn’t help but miss it.

“Levi?” You questioned, watching him stare down at the glass in front of him and soon he snapped out of it, looking up at you.

The jealousy he felt, the way your partner kissed your cheek like you were theirs. He wanted to laugh, he wanted to desperately take you away from here. All these emotions overpowering him, he wanted to explode.

“Fuck it.” He said breathless, making you raise an eyebrow before he practically climbed over the small table, cupping your cheeks and smashing his lips on yours.

You were caught off guard, the sudden kiss almost made you throw yourself back but you remained in place. The long nights you would think about this, this moment. The dreams you would have of Levi kissing you, it was all coming to life.

Your shaky hands grabbed onto his wrists, keeping him in place before you completely leaned in and moved your lips in sync with his. You still got the same feeling every time he would kiss you, fireworks. Every kiss and touch all made you feel the same spark you were feeling now.

Levi was so desperate to keep this going, he never wanted to lose you again, he was even too scared to let go but he pulled back, his face inches away as he stared deep into your eyes, taking in the moment incase it gets ripped away.

“I would say I’m sorry but I’m not... I still love you, come home, please..” Was all he said, his eyes had a sparkle of hope in them, hoping you would ditch your new pathetic partner and come back with him.

The amount of love you still had for Levi was more than enough for you to nod your head, making him drag you out the door and down through the town to go back to his place. He would turn back to look at you, the smile on his face had made your heart flutter with happiness.

“Levi, wait.” You stopped him right as you both stood outside of his place and he gave you a look of concern, afraid you’ll run off again.

“I never stopped loving you, I just want you to know that. Everyday only got harder without you next to me.” You admitted, making his hand squeeze onto yours and he embraced you in a tight hug.

Your face was nuzzled in his shoulder, the tears stinging your eyes as you wrapped your arms around him. The overwhelming feeling that washed over your body made you cry a bit, you were finally happy and content. You didn’t realize you missed Levi this much until he touched you.

“God, I love you.”

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This ended up really cute. It made me soft🥺

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[bokunosimpfiction]

Kidnapped Yandere!Heisenberg x Reader Pt.5

Summary: You feel emotions other than rage and sarcasm oh my god 

A/N: The reason I took a break from this series was because I had no idea where to take it from that cliff hanger, and I felt that character development needed to be done before we dive head first into the plot. This is part of that, but keep in mind it’s not filler like Chapter 2 became. I think it’s funny that this was SUPPOSED TO BE A FUCKING ONE SHOT BUT APPARENTLY FUCKING NOT. I’ll be posting another chapter for this series soon. Also feel free to send me asks about this series. I’ve been getting comments on my ao3 that are a) genius b)hilarious and c)heartwarming. Talk to me. Please! Ask and anon should be open right now let me know if they aren’t!

Masterlist link for previous parts:

Link to this chapter on AO3:

Taglist: @localdepressedvampire​ and one person recieving updates via email

The fresh cold late-autumn air made your lungs sting. And the layers of clothes didn’t help fight the chill you didn’t know you were facing. Has it been that long since you’ve been outside, to see the sun? You stick your arms in your armpits under your outercoat. Well, Heisenberg’s spare trench coat. It was much too big, the cuffs of the sleeves going well past your fingertips and the bottom half an inch from the ground.

You were so used to the fluorescent lighting and the warm dry air of the factory, that your body went into some type of culture shock. It felt like an allergic reaction to the outside world itself. Adjusting to it once you escaped would be hard.

“You’ve clearly become less fit since you started living with me,” Karl says in a matter-of-fact tone. You’d be insulted if you didn’t hear him say weird stuff about the other lords or the occasional brain-washed villager who brought up offerings. One had sewed you a wool and fox-fur dress and brought it up in September, in preparation for the winter. He’d thought it dumb at the time, but it protected you from the November chill better than anything you’ve ever worn.

Did they think you were a woman? Whether they were right or wrong, it didn’t change the fact that it was comfortable, warm, and made you feel better than the clothes you’d been wearing before in the factory or even before. You felt safe.

“Of course, I have, I’ve been sitting on my ass,” you retort.

“Still see that sass is intact.”

“It’s something that’ll never leave me.”

“You’d make a terrible house-spouse.”

“That’s the point,” you sigh hard, and you can see the cold air in front of your face, “I had a whole ass college degree before I came here and got my ass kidnapped.”

Karl whips around and looks at you, tilting his head down to peer at you from above his glasses. “You have a college degree?”

“Why are you surprised? Did you think I was that stupid?” Even if the question is sarcastic and witty, you felt a pang of hurt reverberate in your heart. Did he really think you were that stupid? Apparently so.

“I have two masters. One in aerospace engineering and one in mechanical engineering. Double majored in those fields for my bachelors at Oxford on a full-ride scholarship of robotic engineering.”

His mouth drops open. “And I didn’t know about this because?”

“It never came up.”

He pinches his nose, “you could have been helping me this whole time in the shop, and I let you sit on your ass and play care-taker.”

“More like forced me.” At this point, you’ve stopped walking, and you’d be able to see the manor of Benviento if it weren’t for the fog.

“Besides the point.” He looks stressed. His eyebrows are furrowed, a deep frown is on his face and his whole disposition makes him look genuinely conflicted and upset. “Let’s just go.” He gestures for you to follow him and stomps up the path.

You follow him, trying not to slip in the mud. Converse doesn’t have great traction, you realized. Maybe you should have worn hiking boots. “Listen, dirty Dr. Doofenschmirtz-“

“I don’t want to listen to your dumb nick-names right now.”

You stop again, and your fists ball up at your side around the fabric of the sleeves of his coat. Your coat. The coat you’re wearing.

“Why the hell are you so mad at me!” It’s not a question. It’s an exclamation of emotion. For some reason, it hurts. Even if you despised him, hated him with all your being, having someone love you unconditionally felt nice. He was toxic at best, sociopathic at worst, and yet he loved you so strongly it tore the both of you so part. To feel that admiration has gone missing, even if for a second, sent you reeling. You can’t explain why you softened towards him.

“I’m not.” He keeps walking before he realized you stopped. He turned around to look at you. “I’m not mad at you. I’m just…” He looks for the words. He’d never been good at expressing himself, you realized. Better through actions than words. But you didn’t want him to act on whatever he was feeling.

You wait in silence, eye-watering, trying not to cry.

He sees and rushes over to you. His left arm wraps around you and his right hand gently grabs your chin, his index finger underneath to lift your chin up to look at him. “Don’t cry, you know I hate it when you cry.”

You struggle to take a deep breath, choke on it, and the world feels so much more dangerous. A million malicious eyes gazing into your soul, whispers of panic fill your brain, and flashing thoughts of running right now, of hurting him or you flash through like lightning in a foggy storm. Every damn thing feels hazy and thick and you’re choking on the lump in your throat. “I don’t want to. I don’t want you to be mad at me, I don’t want-“

“Take a deep goddamn breath.” You feel his tobacco-scented breath on your face. You can see panic flash through his eyes for a moment. You hate the smell, and it suffocates you even more. “You need to breath.”

You swallow around the lump in your throat, and your breath shakes like a wasp nest about to fall from the highest branch. “Why are you mad at me?” This time you genuinely ask. You don’t want a reason, but rather a reassurance that he isn’t at all.

His lips form into a snarl that doesn’t come out before he presses them in a tight line. As he thinks. It makes you even more nervous. “I’m not mad at you. I’m mad at the fact that I had an opportunity that went to waste.”

You look up at him. “Okay.”

He wraps his other arm around you and places his chin on your forehead. “Let me know when you’ve calmed down.”

You rest your forehead on his shoulder and breathe.

In. Out.

In.          Out.

In. OUT.

In… out

In.

Out.

 In.

 … out.

“Do you feel any better?”

You wait a moment. “Yeah, I think so.” You ponder for a moment. “I think I had a lot of pent-up anxiety from everything.”

He stays quiet. “I’m sorry.”

“I know.”

He places a kiss on the crown of your head, his beard ruffling your hair. “Are you not going to forgive me?”

You take a deep breath. “I don’t know yet. It’s…” How do I phrase this? “I worked hard for this anger. This anger to love me, to know I didn’t deserve this, to be kidnapped, to have my head ready to be mounted on a stick.” You continue, “if I stop feeling angry, if I forgive you, I’m afraid I’m losing that. That’s why I tried to escape because I loved myself, I wanted better for myself.”

“Was I… Was I not providing enough for you?” His question strikes you like an arrow.

“I-“ You stumble on you’re thoughts for a moment. “It’s less of you not doing enough, but more of the rough foot we started on.” You sniffle. “When I gave up, I felt like I lost a part of myself, all that I worked for. That degree included. I felt all my efforts, all my struggles that I faced outside this goddamn village had gone to waste. That it wasn’t worth it. That I wasn’t worth it.”

You had promised yourself to keep him at arm’s length, to not give him clues to manipulate you. But you poured your heart out into his. You felt him shake and squeeze you tighter.

“Never. Ever. Feel like you aren’t worth it.” You feel something wet on your scalp. “You deserved better than each challenge that you faced, and each bit of hurt you felt along the way.” It’s his turn to choke on his words. He takes a shaky breath above you, and you can feel his heart pound faster. “You, darling, are worth everything.”

Something small inside you breaks. He’s just as human as you are, you realize. In this desperate attempt to escape, to fuel this hatred that’s worn you down, you’ve villainized a man that’s felt even more pain than you. A broken man, who thinks you’re the glue to put him back together. You shouldn’t feel any obligation to, but you do, because you’ve felt a fraction of the pain he’s felt, that he’s currently feeling, and it’s made your mind and bones ache far after the situation ended.

“And so are you, Karl.”

He unwraps his arms from around you. “Come one butter-cup, let’s go. Ugly-ass-psycho-doll is waiting for you. Says she wants you for a fitting and some tea party with her demented child, Angie.”

“Angie? Who’s she.”

“Well, you’re about to find out.”

[jaehyunsbreadbasket]

Cobra Kai Characters As Zodiac Signs

Johnny: Sagittarius

-Reckless

-Brutally honest and has absolutely no filter

-Doesn't like to talk about his feelings and runs away from his problems

-Finds joy in giving other people a hard time

-Procrastinates forever and then has random bursts of energy in the middle of the night and plans to get his life in order but never does

-Acts like he doesn't care what people think but actually takes most things to heart

-Uses humor to cope

-His mind works in a way very few understand

-Gives second chances out left and right

-Scared of commitment

-Over-shares

-Tries his best to lift up those he cares for

-Always thinking about the past

-Loves a good adventure

-Knows facts about the most random stuff and lacks knowledge in everything else

-Can be happy with someone one minute and fighting with them the next

-All he eats is junk food lol

-Childish and thinks he's always right

-Faux confidence 👍🏽

Miguel: Cancer

-Emotional and affectionate

-Extremely trusting

-Has a possessive and jealous side

-Romantic and passionate

-Too nice for his own good

-Values his family and friends over anything else

-Passive aggressive

-Has a tendency to victimize himself

-Can easily fall into a slump

-Empathetic

-Needs people's full attention and is upset when he doesn't get it

-Let's his anger and frustration bubble up until it comes out in huge outbursts

-Cautious of new people

-Highly intuitive

-Cheesy and sentimental

-Has trouble holding in his emotions

-Defends the people he cares about, even when they're wrong

-Can literally never catch a break ever

Sam: Taurus

-A romantic

-Tries to see the good in people but when someone rubs her the wrong way it's hard for her to shake the feeling

-Empathetic

-Hides her problems from others and tries to deal with everything on her own

-Flirty personality

-Thinks she's better than others but doesn't want to admit it

-Wants to be nice but just comes across as fake a lot of the time

-Jealous

-Self-absorbed

-Stubborn, stands her ground

-Absolutely loves to prove people wrong

-Can hold a mean grudge

-Other possible sign(s): Libra

Hawk: Pisces

-Easily manipulated

-Sensitive and emotional

-Never thinks he's good enough and always wants to be somebody else

-Has vengeful tendencies

-Falls in love and gets attached to others quickly

-Projects his insecurities onto others

-Goes in way too deep when in a relationship

-Thinks with his heart and not with his head

-His confidence can easily be wavered

-Wants to fit in so bad

-Needs constant validation

-Other possible sign(s): Aquarius

Daniel: Aries

-Constantly triggered

-Passionate and bold

-Hot headed

-Easily makes enemies

-Confident and cocky

-Likes to face his problems head on

-An emotional, sensitive, cry baby that tries his best to hide it

-Control freak

-Impulsive

-Resourceful

-Never gives up without a good fight

-Stubborn and thinks he's always right

-Canon sign: Sagittarius

Robby: Scorpio

-Rebellious

-Feels very deeply and tends to let his emotions out in a harmful way

-Extremely jealous

-Clever

-Angry. Just angry. All the damn time.

-Spiteful and vengeful

-Doesn't like to ask for help; thinks he can deal with all his problems on his own

-Can easily get wrapped up with the wrong crowd

-Acts like he's okay being on his own but is actually really lonely

-Blaming himself for everything all the time

-Loner™️

-Canon sign: Aquarius

Demetri: Virgo

-Master of sarcasm

-Has a tendency to be pessimistic

-Bossy

-Protectful of the people close to him

-Hates change

-Analytical

-Extremely critical, especially of himself

-Impatient and opinionated

-Extremely smart and values learning and knowledge

-His ego is quite big once he stops criticizing his every move and actually sees he's good at something

-Doesn't waste his energy on things he doesn't deem important

-Other possible sign(s): Gemini

Tory: Aquarius

-Brave and confident

-Witty

-Attractive and magnetic personality

-Thinks she can handle everything on her own and hates asking for help

-Easily peaks people's interests and has something about her that makes people gravitate towards her

-Talks a big game and is actually about it

-Has a special charm that allows her to easily influence others, both positively and negatively

-Expert flirt

-Straightforward about how she feels

-Reckless, rebellious, and spontaneous

-Knows how to defend herself and doesn't hesitate to do so

-Sarcasm game on point

Amanda: Gemini

-Can easily bond with anyone she meets

-Professional problem solver

-Tries to see every side of a situation; a good mediator

-Short tempered and unapologetic

-Defends the people she cares about without hesitation

-Gets pissed off when people are irresponsible

-A realist

-Tries to be helpful

-Other possible sign(s): Libra

Kreese: Scorpio

-Cunning and manipulative

-Agressive

-Brutally honest but also a skilled liar

-Power hungry™️

-Extremely competitive

-Protects the people he cares for, though that number is small

-Grade A shit talker

-Very complex and twisted sense of morals

Carmen: Capricorn

-Good at giving advice, a free therapist honestly

-Responsible and wise

-Very guarded once someone wrongs her and doesn't forgive easily

-Doesn't like to cry in front of others

-Very good instincts about people and can read them easily

-Other possible sign(s): Libra

Aisha: Gemini

-Helpful

-Undercover mastermind

-Has tough skin

-Forgiving

-Good at reading people and notices everything

-Doesn't hesitate to call people out on their bullshit

-Can easily become friends with many different types of people

-Gives good advice

-Other possible sign(s): Taurus

[dabiboy]

This is a request! How would Dabi react to Shouto killing Dabi's s/o

This one hurt me 😢 but here it is, hope it is what you were looking for!

Shoto killing Dabi’s s/o

-Oh boy.

-I don't see my baby Shoto doing this consciously, so probably this happened because either he didn't measure his strength, or he was protecting himself.

-I'm a true believer that Dabi is indeed Touya, so can you even imagine the size of this drama?

-Shoto had no idea what you meant to Dabi.

-So his reaction was something he didn't see coming.

-Dabi is a careless bastard, and you were the only person he truly loved and cared about, the only one. And there you were, lifeless body on the floor. 

-Dabi wouldn't even care about the fact that Shoto is his brother even though Icy-hot has no idea

- ''I think you have no idea what you've done... Do you?''

-Dabi wouldn't show the cocktail of emotions inside of him, he's numbed, it is hard to process that the only person he has ever loved is now dead.

-Killed by his younger brother.

-As if the Todorki's hadn't taken enough of his life already.

-I see this as a face to face situation, heroes are to busy saving some other people, so it is Dabi vs Shoto.

-Honestly, I think Shoto would look calm, but he's scared. He had never seen that look on a villain, so empty yet so filled with pain and rage. 

-Blue flames all over. After staying quiet for a couple of minutes he would use his flames with all he has.

-The rest of the heroes notice it, and they would try to get there as soon as possible. 

-I can see Dabi choking Shoto as a threat before leaving.

-'' What a fucking shame, Todoroki Shoto... You're just like our father'' 

-That would break him. 

-Dabi would grab your body and leave before someone takes you away from him. Or at least, before he cans say his goodbyes.

-After that? This man would never be the same.

-He'd be number than before, empty, broken. And when he finds out that the mass media and heroes hid the fact that you were killed by Endeavor's son, he's raging in anger.

-For how long are heroes going to keep being corrupt bastards? 

-He'd make justice with his bare hands.

Bonus:

The youngest of the Todoroki's tried to take a step back, but he failed when the blue fire was all over him, making him fall to the floor. He was supposed to fight, to be brave, but there was something on his opponent more frightening than his scars, something that made his blood run cold.

Dabi let out a groan full of anger as the blue flames were still surrounding them. The older got down, pressing the bi-colored hair man to the ground, obstructing his airflow. Dabi was almost enjoying his pain, without even care that the heroes were closer by the second.

Shoto gripped Dabi's wrist in an attempt of pulling him away, but it didn't work. And then, he saw it. It was like traveling back in time, and he could see in his opponent eyes that well known look. Disappointment, anger, void, pain. It was the same look his father gave him when he was a kid, and... It was not only the emotions evoked, it was the eyes. His father's eyes. Shape, color. And then his body froze, how could it be? Was it a coincidence? It hit him again, it was just as one of his eyes, the three of them share that turquoise color, what had he done?

''What a shame, Todoroki Shoto...'' Dabi said with a painful sarcasm, a devilish smile ''What is it going to happen next, you little bastard?'' He said in between his teeth, holding his neck tighter ''All of this... Will be hidden. And you? You'll be the poor innocent who got away, blaming someone else for her death'' Dabi could feel the pain taking over him, but in that very moment? His rage was bigger. ''All of you are the same fucking trash. Hiding your sins, looking like heroes in front of the world'' The word heroes was emphasized as he lifted a bit and pulled him to the ground again, still choking him. Dabi could hear the sirens closer and closer, he was running out of time. If he couldn't kill him right there and now, he was going to break him. Dabi leaned in Shoto's ear, and he whispered in between his teeth one more time. 'You're just like him, you despise him, but guess what.  I see no difference between the two of you. You're just the same fucking piece of shit as our father, little Shoto'' He looked at him one more time, recognizing some shared factions on the contrary's face. He stood up, lifting Shoto by his neck with him just to drop him to the floor right after.

Dabi used his flames once more, just to make time and lift your lifeless body on your arms, walking away from that scene. He couldn't say goodbye, he couldn't tell you how much he loved you. He couldn't see your smile one last time, the least he could do, was to hold your cold body against his now cold, shattered and burned heart.

You were gone.

And so the rest of his humanity.

[thatonetimetraveller]

Chapter 2 - Cin Vhetin - T’ad

22 BBY - 7955

Din woke slowly this time, the beeping of medical equipment audible through the helmet’s audio sensors. He could sense movement just outside his peripheral vision so he sat slowly taking care not to pull at his back… the constant ache of the old wound was gone. Alertness coming back to him as he remembered the disjointed events of the day prior. His mind was sluggish but at least he could think clearly, the too big helmet helping him stay grounded. He was 30 years in the past, in the child version of his body. He flexed his hands and stretched his back, he groaned in satisfaction. He hasn't been able to do that since the injury, his back was always too stiff. Yes, he was definitely smaller. The weight of his red robes registered and he sucked in a breath, he hadn't seen those robes since his parents’ death. He lifted the edge of it under his helmet and gave it a good sniff. Ka’ra, it smelled like Aq-Vetina, the rich earthy scent of his first parents still strong, mixed with the distinct smell of spices on the market. There were other smells too like ash and blood but for once he ignored those, basking in the memory of his birth parents.

The door opened and Helix walked in, datapad in hand. He glanced up when he sensed Din looking at him and gave him a gentle smile

“Hey, kid” Helix pulled up a stool beside the bed and sat, keeping himself relaxed. Din nodded in greeting the helmet wobbling on his head.

“Do you know where you are?” Helix asked gently and Din tried not to let his irritation show since he did attack them yesterday and his mind was still hazy

“A Republic cruiser” He answered and Helix nodded

“Good. Can you tell me the year?” Din paused just to make sure he got the date right since it’s been decades since he last used CRC

“7955” Helix gave him a gentle smile and stood and began to fiddle with one of the medical equipment in the room. Din watched him like a hawk when a thought occurred to him in his still sluggish mind.

“Did you drug me?” he asked suspiciously and Helix stilled and turned back to Din

“Yes. Some weak sedatives and a mild Force suppressant” Din furrowed his eyebrows at that

“Force suppressant?” Why would he need that? He doesn’t have magic like Grogu or the jetii. Helix hummed

“The General suggested it since you weren’t sleeping well” he explained but Din was even more lost

“What do my dreams have to do with magic osik?” He asked incredulously and Helix froze as a scanner clattered on the floor

“Kark” He swore as he gathered the dropped item, shaken; though how Din knew since Helix appeared perfectly composed was a mystery. He turned to Din muttering some curse under his breath then leveling Din with a serious look

“You don’t know?” he asked and Din was starting to get nervous that something was wrong with him

“Know what?” He tilted his head to the side in confusion. Helix closed his eyes in pain and sighed

“Can I comm the General? He would be more suited for this conversation” Din looked at Helix in shock, the short time he knew the medic he was always confident knowing what to say, taking control of the situation with ease. Anxiety rolled in his stomach, but his instincts weren’t giving him any bad vibes so he reluctantly nodded

“Sure,” he said. Helix jumped into action and keyed in the General’s frequency, he picked up a tense minute later

“General, there’s a problem in room 27” Helix said voice level and the comm was silent for agonizingly long seconds

“Copy that” Kenobi’s voice was on edge as he disconnected from the comm. Helix sat back on the stool

“It’s nothing bad, Beroya” He tried to soothe. Din raised an eyebrow and tilted his bucket with a snort filled with disbelief

“I’m not a child, you don’t have to coddle me” Helix sucked in a breath his eyes filling with pain

“Oh, right”

The door hissed open and Kenobi rushed in followed by Kote, Din relaxed at the sight of them.

“Is everything alright vod?” Kote asked in a harsh and caring voice. Helix stood, gave Kote a nod with a small smile, and turned to Kenobi

“General he uh… doesn’t know” Both of them looked at Helix in shock the medic did not hesitate - ever. Kenobi blinked in confusion, then his eyes settled over Din while Kote eyed Helix. Din was so confused. What doesn’t he know? It was something fundamentally big he managed to miss in over 40 years. He watched warily as Obi-Wan pulled another chair from the corner and sat, Kote settled on the edge of his bed patting his leg comfortingly.

“What did Helix tell you?” Obi-Wan asked and Din’s attention snapped to him

“I was given sedatives and a Force suppressant?” he furrowed his eyebrows “I was told it helped me sleep better” Din was plagued with nightmares and dreams that came true since he was a child. Sometimes they remained in his head as an eerie echo or other times they were weird and cryptic but they always came true and left him more exhausted than he should be when he woke. Strangely though when the goran gave his beskar buy’ce the intensity of the dreams lessened, she said it would help him.

“Yes, visions are taxing on your body and mental wellbeing so in extreme cases or with an untrained Force user, mild Force suppressants are given to limit your exposure. Don’t worry it shouldn’t interfere with your connection to the Force too much” Kenobi gave him a reassuring smile and panic was rising violently in Din despite the sedatives.

“General, I think you went a bit too fast” Kote commented, his voice heavy with barely concealed sarcasm but Din could tell he was laughing on the inside. Din’s mind was blank, his hands were shaking

“I-I don’t understand. My dreams… I … have jetii magic? Neret’yc” he mumbled and grabbed the sides of his helmet with his shaking hands caught in his own feedback loop of panic and confusion

“Oh dear,” Obi-Wan mumbled while Kote scrambled off the bed and knelt in front of him gently prying his hands away from the bucket.

“Gar morut’yc” He whispered. Din slowly came down from the panic, his mind still an anxious mess but he could think again. He really should stop losing control like that. It was like his usual controls were gone and everything felt more powerful than usual, including his own emotions. It was exhausting and humiliating still, he thanked Kote and turned back to Obi-Wan who looked at him sheepishly.

“I’m sorry, Beroya. I shouldn’t have dumped it onto you like that. I assumed you knew” Discomfort weighed heavy on his heart at the apology but before he could say anything Helix whacked Kenobi on the back of his head. He let out a quiet oof. Terror spiked in Kote as he stared in shock

“Di’kut. That’s why I called you here” Helix snipped, then his face morphed into horror as his words registered and at Kenobi’s bewildered stare “Sir” he added as he straightened fearfully

“I deserved that one” Obi-Wan smiled and patted Helix on the arm. Once the General conceded, Kote burst into giggles, his lingering fear also disappearing from his shoulders. Helix glowered at him

“So… I have jetii magic?” Din asked before the vode could start a fight. Obi-Wan grimaced

“The Force but yes” Din hummed processing the information trying to put the two separate boxes of jetii osik and Mando’ade together without much success. There was something missing.

“What I want to know is how did Beroya miss this for over 30 odd years?” Kote interjected and he had a point. Obi-Wan stroked his beard in thought

“Many Force sensitive adults don’t know as the Force doesn’t always manifest with telekinesis, it could be good instincts, faster reaction time, better aim, visions of the future in dreams or just a heightened sense of empathy” Obi-Wan explained. Din looked down at his hand curiously

“I thought I always had good instincts” he mumbled “It feels different now though” Kote’s eyes snapped to his bucked in alarm, Helix’s hand tightening on his arm to keep him in place

“How?” Obi-Wan probed. Din, shrugged

“Clearer and louder. I… out of control” he said, words failing to convey the difference. Obi-Wan sucked in a breath

“Are you shielding, young one?” Din tilted his head in confusion

“I can protect my mind?” He asked innocently and Obi-Wan’s hand returned to his beard in thought then his eyes lit up in understanding

“Was your beskar’gam made of beskar?” he asked and Din bristled

“Of course it was,” he said with a little pride in his voice, his armor was his life after all. Obi-Wan tongue clicked

“Beskar blocks the Force. There are special alloys with a lower concentration of beskar made for Force sensitives”

“It does? But then why would…” It occurred to him that his dreams weren’t as severe when he slept with his buy’ce.

“Val ru’kar’taylir bal ru’ne’vaabir rejorhaa’ir ni'' They knew and did not tell me he murmured in disbelief. Why didn’t she tell him or make him a better beskar’gam? The stab of betrayal spread through his veins, his back aching in phantom pain. He wanted to throw something, anger bubbling up in him like lava, hot and dangerous. Kote placed a hand on his and the lava flowed into Kote leaving him empty

“It’s alright. I’m sure they had a reason” He said but the simmering outrage inside Kote remained. Grogu, the Empire wanted them for the same reason, maybe she was protecting him. The sting of lies and betrayal faded to a throb as he thought it over

“The Empire wanted Force sensitive children,” he said, his voice empty. It made sense now. Obi-Wan sucked in a sharp breath in pain.

“Are you alright?” Din asked and Obi-Wan nodded though he was still massaging his temple, his blue eyes found Din’s through the visor.

“How about I teach you how to shield? You might not feel as overwhelmed as much” he suggested and Din stared at him

“I can’t be a jetii, I’m a Mando’ad” He declared, his heart conflicted. The wrongness of becoming a jetii an enemy of Mandalore and his ingrained fear of his new and unknown powers conflicted with the instinct - that may or may not be the Force - telling him that it’s right, almost nudging towards that path. His thoughts flickered back to the confusing jetii’kad that Grogu gave him, the blade felt like a part of himself.

oOo

9 ABY - 7986

The Razor Crest was floating in empty space while Din tried to get his bearings and figure out potential allies after the mess on Nevarro. Rage boiled within him at the thought of that demagolka Gideon wanted his child. He sighed, lifted his helmet just enough to pinch the bridge of his nose when the cries of the child registered. They were their usual ‘I want attention’ cries but this time they were quite forceful and determined. Din set a course to a random backwater planet and jumped the Crest into hyperspace. The child was wailing now so Din climbed down the ladder to see what they wanted.

The child was sitting on a box, regarding him with intelligent eyes. Not a sign of their earlier distress

“What’s wrong adi’ka?” he asked as he stepped closer to examine them. Fierce determination radiated from their posture as their face adorably scrunched up in concentration

“Protect” Din sucked in a breath at the sudden thought that entered his mind, it was definitely not his. He sank down to the floor in shock and regarded the ad in wonder, his hands shook.

“That… that was you adi’ka?” he asked, his voice giddy with excitement. He finally had a way to communicate with the child to understand them, love swelled inside his chest. The child huffed in annoyance and concentrated some more

“PROTECT” They shouted in his head and Din’s mind almost ripped in half from the force of it. He took a steadying breath and held up a hand to stop the ad from doing it again but louder. A headache was beginning to form

“Alright, adi’ka. I’m sorry I haven��t been able to protect you” he said regret filling his voice. What kind of a Mandalorian can’t protect a child? The ad mewled in irritation cutting off Din’s destructive thoughts and pointed a shaky claw at him while glaring at him like it was his fault for not understanding. It was adorable and Din’s heart melted at the sight. Din furrowed his eyebrows in confusion once he puzzled out the message the child wanted to convey

“You want to protect me?” he asked in mild horror. The child smiled and nodded vigorously, ears flopping around like a dog as they began to shuffle around. Din’s heart ached in sorrow at their lost innocence

“Oh, cyar’ika” he breathed out, failing to keep his emotions out of his voice “I can protect myself. It’s not your responsibility,” he said as he gently reached out to lay a comforting hand on their shoulder. The ad’s big dark eyes gazed at him with confusion their ears down turning before scrunching up their nose in determination

“Promised” Din tightened his hand in worry and sighed

“Who?” The child gazed at him with sad yet knowing eyes as they pointed another shaky claw in his direction and Din recoiled in shock

“Me? I - I would never ask you to promise anything like that” he said incredulously he would never burden a child with such a promise. The ad’s eyes turned somber at that, their expression the most serious he’s ever seen and it disturbed him to his core. What has this child gone through?

“Too young” They declared their ears drooping with exhaustion and through the haze of confusion Din reached out to steady them. What did they mean he was too young? His mind was filled with more questions than answers from this strange conversation with the child. They finally pulled a cylindrical object out of the many folds of their robe and pressed it into Din’s hand

“Gift” they whispered weakly in his mind before collapsing in his arms. Din stared at the child, sleeping peacefully and then the object in his hand.

“Oh adi’ka what have you gotten yourself into?” he said voice laced with barely suppressed pain before leaning down and pressing his forehead to theirs

“Vor entye adi’ka” he murmured before tugging the snoring bundle into their hammock and shutting the door.

He studied the cylindrical object in his hand. It looked like a hilt of a weird sword, at the top four metal pieces were surrounding the inner part of the hilt like a crown. There was a band of shiny metal that appeared to be beskar curving around the middle of the hilt, two small buttons were nested on the side of the band. Below the dark leather grip at the bottom of the hilt was a cap painted vibrant orange. The leather was worn and fraying in some places and the beskar had some scorch marks on it.

He gripped the hilt and it slid into his hand perfectly, with a burning curiosity he thumbed one of the buttons. The sudden hum and light had him almost dropping the weapon. An orange blade materialized out of the hilt humming with glee and lighting up the interior of the hull with a soft orange glow. Din stared at the weapon with shock, he hadn’t seen anything like it in his life but strangely the weapon seemed to recognize him. It was singing to him Din realized, happiness pouring out of the weapon in waves, how he knew he had no clue. He gave it a slow experimental swing entranced by its joyful orange glow. It was strange the blade itself had no weight so his balance was off and he gave it another swing. The blade cut through the air fluidly humming with delight. Giddiness bubbled up inside him as he gave the weapon a good twirl. The blade hummed with the joy of long lost friends reuniting and Din laughed with the blade. Beeping broke Din out of his feedback loop of happiness barely loud enough over the humming of the blade. Din sighed, gifted the blade one last twirl and gave it a long longing look then thumbed the off switch. The blade died down leaving the room oddly dark and quiet. Emptiness he didn’t notice before registered for the first time in his life. He clipped the hilt to his belt and climbed up to the cockpit just as the Razor Crest lurched out of hyperspace.

oOo

22 BBY - 7955

Someone was talking through the haze that surrounded Din. His memory was clearing and he was in the medical bay of an unknown ship. He blinked in confusion

“Beroya?” The man at the end of the bed asked his brows drawn in concern. The ginger man placed a hand on his, Din jumped

“Did you have a vision?” He asked. His head cleared slowly; he was on a Republic ship, he was 44 in the body of his 12 year old self and he had the Force. Kote was at the end of his bed sat by his leg, Helix was standing behind Kenobi the jetii who just offered to train him. He sighed

“No, just a memory,” He thought back to the vivid memory he just remembered, he had a jetii’kad. Did he get one in the past? Did he give it to Gorgu? Why didn’t he keep it? He stared at his hands in confusion

“Beroya, teaching you how to shield doesn’t mean you have to become a Jedi,” Kenobi said reading his doubts, Helix hummed behind him. Din lifted his head and gazed at Obi-Wan

“But I have the Force?”

“There are many sentients who have the Force and are not Jedi”

“Oh,” he was quickly realizing that knew so little about all of the Force osik stuff. Right now, despite his instincts insistence otherwise, he did not want to abandon his Mandalorian heritage but he needed training to understand his powers better and to be able to protect himself when push comes to shove. He looked at Kenobi his helmet wobbling on his head

“I’ll accept your offer” Kenobi sighed in relief and Kote patted his leg, pride radiating off of him. Kenobi turned to Kote

“Cody make sure everything is set up” Kote nodded, gave Din a smile, and left the room Helix leaving with him

Kenobi gestured for him to stand and sit opposite him on the floor

“So, have you meditated before, young one?” Obi-Wan asked once Din had settled into a comfortable position. He shook his head

“Close your eyes and feel the Force around you. Take a deep breath through your nose and let it out slowly” Din followed Obi-Wan’s instructions calming his mind and letting the familiar yet unfamiliar feeling of the Force into him and wash over him. He gasped, he could feel Obi-Wan sitting across from him, his mind similarly calm but he was the brightest presence on the ship. He could also feel Helix shuffling around with some medical equipment next door and the thousands of different yet similar beings on the ship all glowing in his mind’s eye and moving through their duties like a well-oiled machine. He could pick out Kote’s light from among the rest, he was a warm, strong and steadfast presence, the one he would associate with a good leader or parent.

“Good, now imagine laying a wall between yourself and the rest,” Obi-Wan murmured from the outside, barely audible. Din slowly began building the wall in his mind, brick by brick reinforcing it with beskar along the way. Gradually the lights dimmed and their emotions that he’s been picking up quieted to a hum. His own emotions, now easier to separate, were clearer and easier to control from the absence of thousands of other emotions. He felt Obi-Wan pull away so he slowly climbed his way to consciousness. He blinked his eyes open, his chest lighter since he woke up in the past. He breathed out a sigh of relief. And his stomach rumbled. Obi-Wan who was already on his feet smiled good naturedly at Din and held out a hand, Din grabbed it and let him pull him to his feet.

“Vor’e” He thanked Obi-Wan

The door swished open and Helix walked with Kote right behind him carrying a big bag in his hand. Din tilted his head in question, putting a hand on his helmet to stop it from banging against his skull. Obi-Wan smiled at Kote.

“Oh good, you’ve got it” Kote grinned with excitement, his presence enveloping Din. He looked at the bag curiously as he sat back on the bed, legs swinging in anticipation. Kote hefted the bag onto the bed with a low grunt.

“We did the best we could,” Kote said as Din peered into the bag. His heart stopped. There was a whole set of beskar’gam made out of plastoid in the bag. He picked up the buy’ce cradling it in his hands in wonder tracing the edge of the T-visor with his finger. The design was like the armor Kote and his brothers wore but smaller, tailored to his size. He placed the buy’ce aside then lifted each piece out with care and wonder, each piece was snow white - Cin Vhetin - the color of a new beginning, it was fitting he mused silently. He laid them out on the bed in the traditional way he was taught as a child, admiring the full set.

“You could paint it if you want to,'' Helix suggested as he stood behind him. Din tilted his head in thought he never felt the need to paint his armor, then when he got the full beskar set and it didn’t feel right to paint it, the unpainted beskar showing his penance for almost becoming dar’buir. Now though he could imagine the swirling patterns of various designs on the white surface.

“I’ll think about it” he murmured then he hesitated for a moment before turning to Kote. “Uh… could you leave?” He asked and embarrassment coated his voice, Kote nodded in understanding and they quietly left the room. Once the door was shut behind them Din unclipped his red robe, folded it neatly and set it aside, and pulled on the black flight suit that came with the armor. Then he clipped each piece on with familiar ease of weaning armor his entire life and tightened the belts where he felt the plastoid slack. It fit surprisingly well to his new thin lanky frame. The plastoid was lighter and more flexible than his beskar of his previous beskar’gam and he’ll have to adjust to that. He gripped the helmet in his hands and stared at his new face with an odd sense of disappointment, something wasn’t quite right with it but he couldn’t figure out what. Still, it would be better than Kote’s too big bucket that wobbled precariously every time he moved his head. He lifted the bucket off his face and glanced around expecting the room to transform into an Imperial cell but it stayed mostly the same. Not wanting to chance another episode he placed his new buy’ce on his head. The slight hiss as it connected was a comfort he forgot he needed, he sighed as he finally felt safe in his own skin. He knocked on the door harshly to signal Kote and the others that he was done. Kote and Helix walked in and Din tilted his head in confusion

“Where’s Kenobi?” Helix shrugged

“He had to go up to the bridge since we’ll be rendezvousing with the 501st soon” he explained and Kote mock glared at his brother. Din held out Kote’s bucket and he grabbed it his hands shaking slightly

“Vor entye, Kote,” He said gratefully as tears prickled in the corner of his eyes. The warmth from Kote grew as it enveloped him like a hug. He beamed at him while Helix looked between them with a confused frown.

“You’re welcome Beroya” He clapped him on the shoulder still grinning

“How about we grab some food,” he said as he dragged him out of the room he’s been in the past few days. Din’s heart sped up.

“I can leave?” he asked with confusion. He was under the impression that he was a prisoner even if he was a nicely treated one. Helix who was following behind them sucked in a breath

“Of course you can,” he said with some incredulity. Din shrugged half heartedly

“I thought since I attacked your men that I would be a prisoner” He had to keep a tight hold on his new and fragile shields so as to not get swept away by the violent flood of Kote’s and Helix’s emotions.

“Well, at first you were” Kote admitted scratching the back of his neck and Helix shot him a look

“Oh” Din sighed, Kote held up a dramatic hand

“But! You were hallucinating and you apologized and you haven’t given us reason to treat you a prisoner since” Kote explained hastily and warmth spread across Din, he hummed and examined the hallway to distract himself from the strange emotion. The hallways, while similar to an Imperial ship at a first glance, had enough of a different feel to them that Din could differentiate the two. Troopers were walking about hurrying to their destination, some gave Kote a salute and smile, while others did a double take at the sight of Din. Their stares did not affect him since he was used to them when he had the full beskar beskar’gam. There were a few who huddled together and whispered something to the others, no doubt the gossip train had started already. Din sighed, the gossip amongst the Covert was bad since most of them never left the sewers of Nevarro but it may reach a new level of horrible since he was the center of the latest gossip.

They arrived at the mess hall quicker than he expected. Clones were in large groups around the tables, their chatter and the clatter of utensils echoed throughout the entire room. The tables were long white and organized into neat rows though some of the benches were askew and the shouts of rowdy bunch cut through the background noise. Din’s mind tried to puzzle out a way to escape eating but Kote grabbed his arm and dragged him towards the cue, once he realized Din was lingering in the doorway. Din sighed. He stared at the small selection of food, mostly ration bars and some instant meals that were even less appetizing.

“Don’t tell me you’re just as bad at eating regularly as the General,” Helix joked from next to him. Din did eat less than he should. The fact that he couldn’t remove his helmet in most establishments and that he was reluctant to spend more than the bare minimum on food since most of the money went to the Covert and the foundlings - all of that meant that he skipped a few meals here or there. Helix raised an eyebrow at him, a mean scowl on his face at Din’s silence.

“Well, I-” he began to explain himself when Helix held up a hand

“The Force and meditation are not adequate replacements for food and sleep damn it!” Helix ranted as stacked 5 ration bars and some goop onto the tray, Kote snickered

“General Kenobi would argue,” he said with a smile

“The General can kiss my shebs” Helix grumbled with some ire and Din blushed then he remembered Helix’s earlier words

“The Force can be used that way?” he asked in wonder, wishing he knew a better way to stay awake at the countless long sleepless nights he had while hunting. Helix whirled around pointing a finger in his face with a glare, scowl still present

“Forget I said anything” He declared dramatically with a long sigh. Kote was snickering in the background while Helix kept grumbling to himself. Din followed after them knowing that he won’t lose them since he could pick out Kote’s warm presence in the crowd but it felt better to keep them in sight

“I only ate enough to sustain myself because the Covert needed the rest of the credits,” He said the urge to explain himself to Kote and Helix was strong. They reached a relatively empty table and Helix pushed the tray of food towards him as soon as they sat down. He stared at the food with trepidation and Helix sighed

“There is no shortage of food here Beroya” Helix gestured to the food, chewing on a ration bar himself “So eat” Din sighed

“I can’t” He bit out after a moment of hesitation. Helix and Kote exchanged a concerned look and he got the distinct impression of Kote wanting to hug him

“Why not?” Kote asked. Din looked down shamefully at his hands, he already broke the Creed several times first to save Grogu but that was fine since foundlings came above all else. But now so many people had seen him, not just without his buy’ce but without his beskar’gam so can he even be called a Mando’ad? Who was he if not a Mandalorian? His thoughts circled around that question so he clung to the traditions that would reject him in a vain attempt to define himself

“I can’t remove the helmet,” He said, eyes still locked on his hands. He felt the spike of concern, irritation, and shock from Kote

“Who told you that?” his voice was low and angry though not directed at him still he flinched slightly

“No one. This is the Way” he echoed, the once comforting words felt wrong and hollow coming from his mouth.

“The Way?” Helix asked his voice returning to the gentle prod he used earlier when he thought he was dreaming

“The Way of the Mandalore. I can’t remove my helmet in front of any living being or I become dar’manda”

“But you didn’t have a helmet before Cody gave you his” Helix’s voice was gentle and he could feel Kote stewing next to him

“Exactly, I already broke the Creed” He couldn’t say it out loud that would make it real and he was already hollow and directionless. The Covert would certainly not accept him back now if he could even find them

“That’s bantha shit!” Kote exploded and Din’s head snapped up to him

“What?” He whispered and his voice shook in bewilderment

“You just didn’t have a helmet when you got here! What if someone removed your helmet if you got captured? What are you supposed to do then?” Kote ranted “Besides, having a helmet does not make you Mandalorian. Then the vode wouldn’t be Mando’ade” His face was red from anger, Helix nodded along a similar expression of outrage on his face and Din stared at them in shock. Anger not directed at him radiated off of the both of them. Din’s heart swelled with an unknown emotion as he looked back at his food

“I…” he was at a loss for words as Kote deflated

“I’m still not comfortable removing the helmet,” he declared after a moment of silence. His mind whirling with shock. Both of them nodded in understanding

“We understand Beroya” Helix said

“But if you ever feel comfortable enough know that we won’t judge you” Kote finished. His heart squeezed in gratitude and warmth filled him, Din ducked his head.

Kote and Helix returned to their bland meal and Din glanced around the noisy mess hall. Troopers were talking boisterously, some slapping each other on the shoulder or arm as a show of comredradie. He spotted a few not so subtly ogling him but he ignored them. They felt happy and unrestrained. So when the back of his neck prickled with the usual sense of danger Din was taken aback and whirled around a second too late. The punch landed squarely on his bucket, rattling his head for a moment. The trooper had no paint on their armor and sported a mean scowl on his face, Kote sprang up from his seat growling at the trooper

“Slick, what the hell do you think you are doing?” Slick ignored his commanding officer and only sneered at the stunned Din anger rolling off of him in waves.

“You attack our men and then you have the audacity to wear our armor!” He said with disgust. The easy going chatter around them died down to a hushed whisper as everyone stared at them. Kote walked up to Slick with a furious expression and his voice was barely restrained, hard with the promise of violence

“Stand down Sergeant” He ordered. The order fell on deaf ears as Slick glared at Kote with no fear besides the tide of righteous anger

“No sir” he ground out “Don’t you see that he’s just another nat-born pretending to like us, to be one of us” He gestured to the rest of the clones

“Ni ceta” Din apologized as he stood, wobbling slightly on his legs. Slick sneered

“Oh, now he speaks our language too.” His voice was heavy with sarcasm “What’s next? You gonna paint your armor like us too? Is stealing our language and freedom not enough for you?” Slick accused loudly venom filling his voice and being

“Stand down Sargeant! That’s an order!” Kote bellowed his voice echoing throughout the silent mess hall. Din straightened feeling the anger rise in him at the unwarranted accusations

“I am a Mando’ad and I do not steal anyone’s freedom” He declared his voice steady and sure, his earlier doubts gone for the moment.

“Yeah, right” Slick huffed and raised his hand for another punch. Kote had enough and with a swift move restrained Slick bending his arm around his back painfully. He gestured for two clones their armor painted orange and handed the seething Slick over to them

“Maybe a few hours in the brig will teach you a lesson” He nodded to the two clones who dragged Slick away who was still glowering at Din with hatred.

“Alright boy fun’s over” Kote declared to the spectators and the rest of the troopers slowly returned to their meals though the chatter was more subdued than before

Kote sank back into his seat with a tired sigh and Din followed soon after. His mind still reeling at the pure hatred Slick directed his way like he was the cause of all of his problems. But before he could ask Kote why Slick hated him so much, two clones sat at their table, one next to Kote and one next to Din. Kote sighed in irritation and glared at the two clones while Helix snickered

“Waxer, Boil, what are you doing here?” Kote asked, his voice and posture tired with all the bantha shit that happened since Din left his room. Waxer was looking at him wearily from across the table and Din tilted his head in question. Boil, appearing to not have the same hesitation looped an arm around Din’s shoulder and grinned at him. Both Din and Waxer tensed.

“So you’re the verdi’ka who beat up Waxer,” he said with a good humored smile, Din tensed his shoulders. Kote gave a long suffering sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose, and Din opened his mouth to apologize again

“If you’re here to cause trouble...” Kote began

“Oh, we’re not assholes like Slick” Waxer chuckled relaxing slightly, Boil grinned and nudged Din

“Waxer was just too scared to ask the verd’ika for a rematch,” Boil said with a sly smile. Waxer rose and hit Boil across the table his face red with embarrassment

“I’m not!” he squeaked out, Kote tried to wrangle the two brothers to calm down and Helix was outright cackling now while Din stared at the chaotic scene in confusion.

“Why?” he blurted out and the chaos around the table as they stared at him. Waxer seeming to overcome his fear looked at him

“Because you’re good and it’s nice to spar with someone new,” He said earnestly

“Hear, hear” Boil chanted as he lifted his drink. Din looked at them both finding his instincts or the Force were telling him that they weren’t lying so Din agreed with a nod

“Sweet, sparring room 5 after the mission?” Waxer said vibrating in his seat with excitement

“Calm down vod’ika” Helix chastised and Din shrugged his heart soaring at the thought of a good spar since all his recent fights had been life or death situations, it’ll be nice to let out some steam.

“Sure” he agreed with a hidden smile. Waxer cheered, Boil rolled his eyes in fondness and then they soon left after that whispering amongst themselves in excitement. Kote turned to Helix with a raised eyebrow

“You were batchmates with them right?” Helix grinned mischief entering his eyes

“Yeah Waxer and Boil were always a chaotic duo”

“Batchmates?” Din asked curiously both of them tensed and stilled, fear spiking in them for a second but then it was replaced by humor again

“Batchmates grew up together, they were usually decanted in the same batch of 5” Helix explained, Kote was still tense though

“Like brothers,” Din said

“All the clones are vode but yes in a way batchmates are closer” There was a smile in Helix’s voice and Kote seemed to shrink in on himself a haunted look crossing his eyes but before Din could ask if he was alright his comm beeped with a message. Kote grinned and stood all, his fear disappearing instantly, Din tilted his head curiously

“Come on Rex’ika will be here soon,” He said with mirth, Helix stood and Din followed. Helix tossed him a ration bar with a scowl, Din fumbled to catch it

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten that you haven’t eaten today” he grumbled and Din gulped. Instead of answering he redirected the conversation away from himself

“Rex’ika?” he asked as he followed Kote since he wasn’t told to go back to the medical room

“My vod’ika” Kote grinned “He’d love to meet you”

“Really?”

“The 501st and General Skywalker are a rowdy bunch so I’m sure you’ll fit right in,” Helix said with a grin. Din paused, stunned the jetii who took Grogu away was younger than him so he shouldn’t be here unless he was near human and aged slower. Din snapped out of his musings when he felt the presence of Kote and Helix move away, he jogged to catch up with them.

“General Skywalker?” He asked a bit winded, Helix chuckled at that

“He is one of the best Generals in the GAR besides Kenobi” he added at Kote’s mock glare

“His plans may seem reckless but he has the fewest losses in the entire army. Rex is certainly not bored under him” Kote said with a proud smile

“At least he doesn’t lose his lightsaber every other battle” Helix teased, Kote sighed in exasperation

“Don’t remind me” he grumbled, Din watched in fascination. Helix left for the medbay about halfway to the hangar. They arrived at the hangar soon after that. It was busy, the engines of the landing LAATs and shuttles deafening, hundreds of troopers all decked out in blue armor were milling about the place, chattering amongst each other and greeting the troopers with orange paint enthusiastically. Kenobi was in the middle of the action directing the troopers and the landing crafts. But before they could reach him a clone with a blue pauldron and jaig eyes painted on his helmet approached them. Kote grinned

“Rex’ika” he exclaimed and enveloped the clone in a hug, relief flowing through him, the blue clone returned the hug just as enthusiastically. Once they finished greeting each other Rex glanced behind Kote where Din was standing suspicion in his frame

“Cody who’s this?” He gestured to Din, Kote grinned

“This is Beroya. We picked him up on Aq-Vetina” Kote introduced him proudly and Rex did a double take

“Beroya? I thought you took a shiny under your wing, not a cadet” Rex said his voice filled with incredulity, and Din bristled

“He’s nat-born Rex’ika,” Cody said with a glare to challenge Rex’s protest. Alas Rex was too oblivious to notice

“Why is he here and why is he wearing our armor?” There was no disgust or contempt in his voice instead he radiated confusion as he stared at Din, Kote shrugged

“Because he needed one and General Kenobi wanted him here” Din stared at Kote with a raised eyebrow as he sensed Kenobi approaching with a man behind him. The man was so bright, like a supernova it took him a second of squinting under the helmet’s sensors to really make out his features. He was tall and imposing, growing messy brown hair and wearing black battle armor and robes.

Din staggered back as the image of the man was replayed in his head. Suddenly he wasn’t in the hangar. He was in a large temple, tall spires casting long shadows in the dark night. Everything was dark and muddy even the air was suffocating, heavy with death and tragedy. Terror sliced through him as the screams of the ade tore through the peaceful setting. Blue flashed across the dark sky before another life joined the thousands screaming in agony. The dark robed demon cut through the children with ease, his golden eyes flashing with hatred and fury.

The temple morphed around him with sickening ripples. He was clutching something important to his chest running as fast as he could. Run away. Protect. Hide. He kept chanting. The shadows around him grew, eating up the low light of the moon leaving behind nothing but cold dead darkness. Out of the darkness, the demon materialized, golden eyes dead to the world yet filled with bottomless hatred. Blue flashed across the hall and orange rose just barely to meet it. The colors clashed, their usual magnificent harmony tainted just out of tune. Blue left and with vicious force came down on the weakening orange again and again like a rabid dog. Another violent clash, the orange now sluggish waning in the darkness that surrounded them. Still, it rose to meet every single violent strike with determination. Then the blue cut through the orange with a brutal strike. It fell into two on the ground. The orange light died out with last pathetic sparks. The darkness eating it alive

Din cried out in terror.

[marvelousfangirl01]

ACKERMAN’S LAMENT (Chapter 11: End)

RATING: M for Graphic Depictions of Violence

Also available at https://archiveofourown.org/works/39566685/chapters/103183284 :)

---

Levi and Moblit fell into an easy pattern of sleeping, waking up to stand guard, filling water canteens, and assisting any soldiers who crossed paths with them. The simple air to everything they did—whether they were having a surface-level conversation or were bandaging a wounded soldier—made Levi fear that something larger was creeping up on them. Therefore, he was extra aware of his surroundings and his senses were in overdrive. There were no more uncomfortable romantic reveals, but the steady line of soldiers who visited them with bloody limbs was worrying.

Two days passed with this undemanding workload. As Levi tried to fall asleep that second night, Moblit stood outside the tent, patrolling their campground. The rustle of his feet in the grass should have soothed Levi into a slumber, but instead it only made him more hyper-alert of every minor sensory input. Levi had seemingly gotten over his dislike for Moblit, ever since shunning him into abandoning his feelings for Hange. Levi’s blissful inner peace after telling the truth, even at Moblit’s expense, was unmatched.

Moblit spoke from outside, airy voice wafting through the tent flaps. “Captain Levi, forgive me if this is an awkward question…” He began cautiously, voice shaking a bit.

Seriously? They’d had a streak of no questions asked. Yet Levi’s typical anxieties and anger weren’t present this time. All that remained was a minor annoyance at Moblit’s inability to read the situation. “What do you want this time, Berner?” Levi scoffed. “I’m asleep.”

Moblit opened his mouth in protest. Levi could hear an affronted inhale from the boy. “Well.” Moblit obviously ignored Levi’s sarcasm. “I am curious… how you realized you were in love with Hange.”

That imbecile. Levi felt red rise to his cheeks—whether that was anger or blush, he wasn’t confident in either. It must have been a blend of both.

“I thought we weren’t talking about this anymore.” Levi turned over in his cot. His annoyance grew at Moblit’s mention of Hange. Gently, Levi reminded himself that Moblit had no driving reasons to be infatuated with Hange anymore. And this was what he wanted, right? For Moblit to know?

Hange was Levi’s, and there was no longer any threat to that. Moblit had cried—Levi had seen the tears staining his cheeks. The boy was in too much pain to think about pursuing his emotions.

“You hadn’t brought it up in a few days, boy, and here you go again.” Levi’s cheeks became redder as he processed Moblit’s words. “And besides, who said I was in love with four-eyes?”

Moblit did that inhale again. “I’m not trying to make assumptions,” Moblit said slowly. “But I noticed you’ve always been protective when it comes to Hange. Especially around me.”

“Of course I’ve always been protective,” Levi growled. “You acted like you didn’t have a damn clue or a care in the world about your surroundings. Shit, you’d blush any time Hange touched you.” He paused and listened to Moblit’s silence and the accompanying sounds of nature. “So why do you think I’m the one in love with her?”

Moblit scoffed. “I’ve set my feelings aside in favor of Hange’s happiness,” Moblit responded gingerly. “As promised. But you’re rather defensive of the Section Commander. You care about her more than you ever reveal.” Moblit’s words stretched, and Levi could hear his smile in his words. “And when you’re around her, Captain, you almost… lighten up.”

Levi’s eyes widened vastly. How did this stupid boy know Levi better than he knew himself? It almost made Levi furious, but his usual fury dissolved into something more useful: rationality. Moblit had sorted out Levi’s feelings and soft spots. It made Levi… vulnerable.

“Stop trying to analyze me, Berner.”

They didn’t speak again that night. Levi fell asleep with an otherworldly level of calm, but still on edge just enough to listen to their environment. Moblit’s words had seemed… right. And while this should’ve pissed Levi off (he hated to admit Berner had a logical point), Levi found himself appreciating Moblit’s honesty.

The next morning was the hottest of that week and the most humid. Levi could smell the rain in the air when he went out for his morning water. A storm was approaching and that meant Levi would need to shelter the supplies into the tent to prevent them from getting soaked. It was something new and exciting—better than riding his horse through the same patches of land and staring at the wisps of grass surrounding their tent.

Levi closed his water jug’s lid and squinted up at the gray sky from his spot next to the pond. Through the blanket of trees, it was clear rain was rolling in. A soft thud of thunder alerted him that he should start riding back to the camp to pack the supplies away before the inclement weather arrived.

Levi’s horse clopped down the repeating tunnel of trees until Levi saw Moblit’s torch moving about. The dark skies and rising heat made it hard to avoid optical illusions. Green trees turned ashen. Levi’s exhaustion from this mission, along with the bizarre weather, made Moblit’s torch strangely blurry.

“Berner.” Levi stopped his horse.

“Already on it, Captain Levi,” Moblit poked his head out from the rear tent flaps. “The first aid and gas reserves are all stored inside.”

Impressively, the grass was empty. “Turns out you’re useful after all.” And Levi didn’t show it, but in that instant, he was faintly proud of Moblit Berner. Levi savored his cold water as the rain began to pitter on the tent flaps, reverberating on the wooden trees outside and bouncing off the ground.

The humidity in the air reminded Levi of a different time, when Isabel and Farlan were still alive. It had been raining like this on their last mission together—the same mission those same friends never returned from. Fortunately the tent material remained strong enough that no rain could penetrate it now. Levi wished the tent could keep his trauma away, too.

Moblit napped to the sound of the rain hitting the cloth. Levi leaned himself back against Moblit’s cot. A brief moment of calm in the storm allowed his mind to shift back to Hange. The comforting image of her rugged appearance brought Levi a new level of serenity. And he realized he was craving her voice, her mannerisms, her smell, even.

When they returned to the walls, by god, Levi would be so desperate that he’d have no restraint. He smirked, remembering some of their more intimate moments. He could practically hear her gentle sighs and moans as they moved as one.

That is, if the mission didn’t result in more casualties than they could bear. Erwin Smith was an emotionless leader, one who wouldn’t stop no matter how many soldiers died dedicating their hearts. Every time they left the walls, Levi would quietly fear for Hange, worried that the same thing would happen to her that had killed his friends. One day, would he accidentally trample over Hange’s head the way he trampled over Isabel’s? How much was too much for the stone-cold Erwin?

Looking at the sleeping boy, Levi remembered Moblit’s words. Did Levi’s feelings for Hange really go deeper than he thought? Was Levi actually in love with Hange? Or was this just some twisted affair they had going?

Levi had never had an affair before. But he assumed affairs didn’t cause people to become sick with anxiety at the thought of losing their partner.

Speaking of that sick feeling, Levi’s stomach clenched as the rain got heavier. He could still see sunken eyes filled with mud and rain, gazing vacantly back at him. He bent over at the abdomen, crossing his arms over his chest. The rain made it hard to see even one hundred meters ahead, not unlike the difficulties from the day Isabel and Farlan died. It would be hard to spot approaching titans if this rain kept up.

Levi turned his head to see Moblit’s sleeping face at the other end of the cot. He still slept peacefully. Moblit’s mouth was agape in a circle as a string of drool dribbled from his mouth. The boy may have dreamt of Hange in times past, but now his inner peace was ruined.

It gave Levi a morbid sense of closure, twisting his stomach into an even tighter knot, knowing Moblit had agreed to put Hange’s happiness above all else.

Footsteps outside the tent squelched in the mud. The rustle of activity made Moblit stir from his sleep, wiping the drool from his chin.

“Who’s there?” Levi called, rising from his position next to his cot. A stinging in his tailbone told Levi he’d been seated for too long. Being on his feet helped soothe the pain.

Two waterlogged bodies tumbled inside the tent—a boy and a girl. Two soldiers, some of the youngest Levi had seen. Moblit caught Levi’s eye with a confused stare.

The girl, whose black hair was pressed against her forehead with water and sweat, spoke first. “Captain Levi, we need gas—quick—we fell from the trees in the center of the forest—assisting Commander Erwin with this huge abnormal—came here as fast as we could—”

“Slow down,” Moblit said. He was on his feet now and adjacent to Levi. “Just take a breath and tell us… what is going on?”

The boy was no calmer than the girl. “The Commander called for backup and we were riding nearby. The rain started to really pick up and before we knew it, we saw it: abnormal, at least thirty meters tall. It was grabbing at trees and pulling soldiers from them!”

Levi’s lips pursed. “How many casualties?” He sighed impatiently, watching the young soldiers squeeze water out of their green cloaks.

“At least five or six.” The girl wrung her hair as she spoke. The rainwater dripped down her wrists and landed in the puddle at her feet. “And Section Commander Hange is injured.”

“What?” Levi exclaimed as all level-headedness evaporated. Luckily his words were naturally low, not showcasing his sudden increase in concern at all. How the hell did she injure herself? Zoë was a good fighter, skilled on ODM, and able to accurately process her surroundings. Even against an abnormal titan, she stood at least a decent chance. “Dumbass probably got too close to the titan…”

“She did,” the girl said while obnoxiously re-braiding her wet hair. “She was trying to talk to it.”

Levi gave a dark chuckle. “Of course she was,” he responded, pushing the bottomless pit in his stomach further and further down until it reached the floor. “And how badly injured is she?”

He didn’t miss Moblit’s shaking hands. Levi side-eyed him as the boy curled his hands into fists. Moblit was equally afraid for Hange, but contrary to so many times before, he was stoically silent. Moblit shook, though, which made Levi wary his feelings would erupt at any moment.

The girl dumped water out of her boots. “Not badly, Captain,” She reassured him. “The Section Commander is still able to fight. She got a hit to her leg but that’s all.”

“Good.” Levi stalked back to his cot and grabbed his cloak. “Berner and I are going to stand as reinforcements for Commander Erwin’s team. Once you fill your tanks, join us.”

“It’s dangerous out there,” The girl said, putting a hand out as if she could stop Levi from stepping into his ODM gear. “How do you know you’ll make it back?”

“He doesn’t,” Moblit replied quickly, watching Levi adjust his ODM belt. Berner’s cautious eyes pleaded with Levi to stop, slow down, and put emotions behind him.

“Are you kidding? None of us do. Now put your gear on, Berner,” Levi snapped. The starry-eyed soldiers looked impressed by Levi’s stern behavior toward his teammate. They stood dumbly, waiting for explicit instructions from the famous soldier. “And you, brats, the gas reserves are in the corner. Once you’re full, grab your horses and let’s move.”

The kids nodded and nearly bumped into each other, toppling toward the gas reserves. Moblit quietly put his gear and cloak on, pulling the hood over his head as he followed Levi to their horses. The rain wasn’t letting up. It dripped down Levi’s back and puddled into his shoes. Levi turned up his nose at the smell of sludge beneath his horse’s hooves. He’d need to clean the animal when they made it home. The horses snorted in the rain as their riders mounted them.

“Captain.” Moblit sounded on guard, waiting for Levi to combust again. Somehow, his words were stable. “The rain decreases visibility. We need to ride slowly and stay calm. Hange will be fine in the time it takes us to get to the center of the forest.”

Levi scowled as he turned his horse around and prepared to leave the campsite. His body was a hurricane, shaking and quivering in the humid rain, but his mind was still. He ignored the obvious distress of his body and gripped the reins tighter.

“Sounds like you’re assuring yourself of that, not anyone else, Berner,” Levi coughed. Moblit grunted, clearly frustrated by the Captain’s stubbornness. Was it wrong to get such pleasure from seeing Moblit fume?

The falling rain on Levi’s uniform was background music for his tumultuous thoughts. The tables had turned. Who was Berner now, suddenly telling him what to do in battle? Levi was calm on the exterior, a practiced calm. He knew how to conceal his emotions to focus on battles of varying severity. But Moblit was constantly in a state of chaos, and now, he was a hypocrite for telling Levi to calm down.

A gut-wrenching scream pierced the air from a few meters away, leaping off the trees and resounding down to Levi. It made his ears ring. A soft thump told Levi that a body had hit the ground. He shuddered, intestines jerking and instincts switching into overdrive.

Hardly thinking, Levi already knew who the scream belonged to.

“It’s Hange.” Levi’s words were flat as he pulled the horse’s reins. “Let’s move.”

Moblit gave an exasperated sigh. Shut up, Levi thought. Just shut up! How quickly things changed! Levi had lied to himself by thinking he would ever be at peace with Berner. Moblit’s watery personality made him tick back and forth in Levi’s head like a pendulum. From moment to moment, Moblit walked the tightrope between appeasing Levi and pissing him off. Why couldn’t he just stay quiet forever? Levi liked it better when Moblit was crying.

The horses galloped through the rain, heavy drops coating Levi’s eyes. He had to blink hard to get the water out. Pearls of rain stuck to his eyelashes, making his frame of vision clouded. The two young soldiers caught up quickly to Berner and Ackerman, their horses’ hooves caking mud onto their thin bodies.

The closer they got to the sound of the battle, the worse Levi’s body shivered. “How close are we?” He inquired of the soldiers who were following them.

“Not too far,” the boy answered. “It’s just around this bend.”

Another small pond, similar to the one Levi used to fill his canteen, was up ahead. The rain flooded the path. As the horses tread through the water, a ripple of liquid soaked Levi. But there was no time to stop or wipe the water from his face—they were in sight of a titan.

“There it is!” The girl shouted. Levi spun around and saw she was pointing a hand to the shadow ahead of them. She fought to keep her hand steady. Levi wasn’t sure, but he thought he saw tears blending with the rain on her face.

“Let’s go,” Levi ordered. Their horses sped off on the final stretch of land, and that was when all hell broke loose.

“Ackerman!” Mike was slashing at the giant as his hair glued to his neck. As he flew, Mike shoved his hair aside to get a better view. “Get up here!”

Levi forcibly stopped himself from searching for the injured Hange. She was nowhere near the titan, not that Levi could see, so she was out of immediate danger. Following Mike’s orders, and his own orders which told him to focus, Levi stood up on his moving horse. Tossing the anchor to a nearby tree, he called to the other soldiers, “Berner—you two—give me backup if I need it!”

The titan was ravenous, lashing at Levi and Mike, all the while cutting down trees with its claws. This thing was taller than the entire length of that quadruped they had encountered. The soldiers who stood by Moblit were crying now. Levi was half-expecting Moblit to cradle them and kiss their foreheads and tell them it would all be okay.

Or maybe it would happen the other way around, and the lily-livered Moblit would start sobbing and be comforted by rookies.

“Go!” Mike yelled as he spun toward the titan. It sounded like he hadn’t drank water at all throughout this entire mission. His command was so abrasive that Levi’s skin prickled.

The titan, with a swipe of both hands, caught Mike by the legs before he could escape.

“Fuck,” Levi cursed as the soldier disappeared into the palms of the titan. Looked like he was on his own. He flew up to the titan’s chest and struck it, sidetracking the monster from eating Mike.

Mike freed himself a moment later by cutting through the titan’s hands and diving into the froth of blood. “Levi, go for the nape—I’m injured!” Mike evaded into the trees to a place out of sight of the thirty-meter titan.

All right. Levi focused himself on killing this thing, this beast that had wounded Hange and now Mike. His mind zoned in on the movements of the titan, the quaking of its limbs as it stretched to reach Levi. Levi bound to the left just enough, avoiding the titan’s inelegant and slow grip.

A disgusting roar from the titan told Levi it was hurt. A dash of blond hair zipped from side to side on the nape of the titan’s neck. Erwin.

The commander was a superb warrior when given the opportunity to be. Honestly, Levi liked him more on the battlefield than behind a desk.

“Commander, did you disable it?” Levi asked, hooking to a tree and sliding upwards away from the tottering titan. His legs dangled as he watched Erwin mount himself on the titan’s head.

“I got it, Levi. Go up in that tree and regroup with Mike and Hange.” Erwin stabbed into the titan’s skull and hurdled off, landing on the ground next to the dead titan. Erwin ran to meet with Moblit, the two kids, and the other soldiers who had arrived on the scene.

Rain made Levi’s hands silky. His blisters and calluses from earlier in the mission had popped during this most recent battle, causing pus to stream down his wrists along with the rain. Levi put his blades away and wiped his hands with a tsk. A nipping where his calluses were open throbbed through his palms, even stretching down his fingers.

Slowly, Levi scaled upward into the trees where Mike had disappeared to. And he was met with the image of a frazzled Mike and an unconscious Hange.

“Hange—” Levi’s head went fuzzy. His focus on the mission began to falter; he was now set on helping her. Levi started toward Hange’s bloody stump. Her long legs were turned inward and her face still.

Mike reached a charred hand out and stopped Levi in his tracks. “Don’t get too close,” Mike warned. “She has serious trauma to her legs and back. We don’t want to move her unless necessary.”

Levi knelt down on the wet tree trunk, the soppy soft bark melding with his knees. From here, he could get a look at Hange without the risk of moving her. Her glasses laid next to her head, both of the lenses missing, though these were durable field glasses made for combat. She must’ve really taken a fall for the lenses to pop out.

“How did this happen, Mike?” Levi breathed, hardly able to process seeing Hange so broken.

“She went to attack the titan despite Erwin’s orders to hold off,” Mike answered, looking at Hange with sympathy. “And then the titan caught her cable and she fell from here.”

Levi gazed down at the ground from his spot in the tree, twisting his head over his shoulder to take a look. By eyeballing it, the distance Hange fell was at least three stories.

Erwin appeared behind them with a thump of two feet on the tree branch, soaked to the bone with both rain and perspiration. There was an air of calm to the man, which jumped out at Levi as a stark contrast to their situation. Erwin had such a clear head, but Levi pondered if the man ever held any emotional attachments to his comrades. Levi hadn’t foreseen himself falling down such a rabbit hole for Hange, and wondered if Erwin had ever experienced a similar thing. At least Levi knew how to keep his affections private. If Erwin was dealing with the same phenomenon, then he seemed to lock it up within his heart as well.

Moblit and his two petite companions joined them in the tree, too, but there was no room for them on the branch. They stayed hanging in the air, strapped to their ODM. Moblit slapped a hand over his mouth to disguise a gag.

“Commander—she’s—”

“Paralyzed, Berner,” Erwin said, striding about, surveying Hange’s corpse. Levi gave Moblit a dirty look as he stood up, joining Erwin on the walk around Hange. As expected, Moblit couldn’t hold the veil of calm for long. Meanwhile, Levi was able to stay emotionally upright even when faced with Hange’s possible paralysis.

“What are we going to do about her?” Moblit blanched. “I mean, will she ever walk again?” He extended his sore legs, blushing at the possibility that Hange might be as broken as him after this accident.

“I don’t know.” Erwin pointed to Mike and silently gestured for him to remove Hange’s gear from her body. Mike worked in a swirl of activity, like a choreographed show, and stripped Zoë of her ODM. The empty gas tanks that had once allowed Hange to fly now rested in Mike’s sturdy arms. He carefully slid her shattered goggles into her front uniform pocket. The strong soldier hardly moved Hange’s body throughout the process.

“I’ll carry her down to the horses,” Erwin announced as Mike was already descending down to the horses’ crowd at the base of the tree. “And we’ll lay her in the back of the supply wagon where she’ll be covered from the rain and safe.”

Moblit and the kids left to join the army of soldiers who meandered on the wet grass, observing the hell around them. Some of them looked up the tree, pointing through the rain to see the Captain and Commander above them. Word of a “dead Section Commander” and “furious Captain Levi” wafted up to Levi’s ears. Maybe the kids weren’t clueless after all. Levi was furious—at Hange for possibly getting herself killed, at Erwin for separating him from Hange, at Moblit for acting like everything was fine. Really, Moblit was just a boy who’d gone back on his word and was probably sobbing by now.

“Are you sure she’ll be safe?” Levi spoke over the cloud of chatter far below them. He crossed his arms, trying to avoid looking at Erwin, and instead staring at Hange with his lips in a firm straight line. “Mike said we weren’t supposed to move her, and now you’re trying to pick her up?”

“She’ll be fine. The act of picking her up will, ideally, stabilize her back so it won’t move any more. The ODM will help me keep her still while we descend.” Erwin was already bending down to scoop the Section Commander into his arms.

Levi growled an agreement as he watched Erwin’s deft arms loop around Hange’s body. He wished he were the one picking up Hange, but for the record, the image before him was far prettier than expected. A dark sky served as a backdrop for the brawny Erwin, glazed with rain, who held the oddly peaceful Hange.

With a sick level of humor, Levi realized this was the quietest Hange had ever been.

Upon arriving on the squishy ground, Erwin made a surprising announcement to all the scouts that he was ending their excursion early.

“We’ve lost too many soldiers to make this worth our time,” was Erwin’s rationale. Made sense—he was clutching Hange in his arms. “So all outposts must be disassembled. We will begin heading home at today’s sunset…”

Moblit stepped up behind Levi and tapped him on the shoulder. “He seems to drone on and on about how none of this matters if we aren’t giving our hearts. How is Hange?” Moblit asked, oddly peppy.

Levi recoiled at Moblit’s touch. “Feeling better so suddenly, are you, Berner?” He snarled, aware he didn’t answer Moblit’s question. Truth be told, Levi was wondering the same thing, and it hadn’t been five minutes since he’d last seen Hange. “Just a few minutes ago it seemed you were crushed.”

“Oh…” Moblit laughed nervously. “I suppose I’m just trying to lighten the mood.”

“Then do that.” Levi climbed atop his horse. “Get out of here and stop worrying. We could all use a booster.” Though Levi wouldn’t be contributing to any positivity production, he was happy to see Moblit still breaking his back to keep the facade of neutrality. Under the surface of his little act laid a boy who hadn’t truly set his feelings aside, even after claiming to do so.

Erwin’s speech ended. Levi hadn’t comprehended a single thing the commander said, except that this fucking mission was finally over. The crowd dispersed. Moblit hugged the two little soldiers they’d met along the way and rubbed their backs sympathetically. They were completely and hopelessly traumatized.

First time?

Through the bodies of the emotional trio, Levi could see Hange being loaded into a wagon by a team of scouts. She was elongated, legs stiffened to remain still, but her unconscious body appeared so graceful—an angel ascending to heaven. Mike and Erwin spoke in hushed voices as they observed her in the covered wagon.

If Levi had been on their team, this never would’ve happened. He would’ve protected Hange and made sure she wasn’t stupid enough to get hurt. Yet he had wasted this expedition by serving as Moblit’s guardian.

And Moblit, his teammate who he had tried to keep at an arm’s length, had betrayed him by going back on his word to supposedly conceal his feelings.

“Let’s get back to the camp so we can go home,” Levi said as they began to ride back to the camp. “And I never want to see your goddamn face again.”

[girl-next-door-writes]

Greater Forces Than Arrogance

Characters: Mycroft Holmes x reader

Summary: Sometimes sentiment helps you make the tough decisions, and as Eurus continues her little ‘experiment’ this is a lesson Mycroft begins to understand.

Word Count: 2882 words

A/N: I have to admit, this one kinda got away from me too. I hope you are enjoying reading this series as much as I am enjoying writing it!

Greater Forces Masterlist

Walking through the open doorway, Mycroft paused and looked back at his brother. He had saved you, and there were no words to convey just how grateful Mycroft was for that. Both Holmes boys were visibly shaken after that last task, the elder leant against the doorframe as the younger sank to the floor, both breathing heavily as they tried to process what had just happened.

John bent down to pick up the pistol, wandered over to his friend and stopped a few paces from him. Mycroft turned to watch their interaction as John cleared his throat. “Look, I know this is difficult and I know you’re being tortured, but you have got to keep it together.” His voice was steady, solid, as if anchoring them all back into reality.

“This isn’t torture; this is vivisection.” Sherlock didn’t even lift his head as his long fingers tugged through his hair. “We’re experiencing science from the perspective of lab rats.” Letting out a loud breath, he leant his head back against the wall behind him and stared unblinkingly at the ceiling for a moment before he turned and glanced in Mycroft’s direction.

Still shaken by the rush of emotions he had so recently experienced, the elder Holmes smoothed down his waistcoat and straightened his posture. A part of him was elated you returned his affection, and another part of him regretted all the missed opportunities. He couldn’t allow himself to linger on thoughts of you. They had to plough through whatever was in store. Sentiment was not going to help any of them. His eyes tracked Sherlocks movements as John helped him to his feet and then passed him the pistol.

The lights flickered red, and the mocking voice of Moriarty rang out once more. “Tick-tock, tickets please!” Mycroft rolled his eyes, feeling a swell of anger and shame within him. This was his fault. He had put Sherlock and John in danger. He had put you in danger. Stepping further through the doorway, he realised there was no corridor this time, just another room similar in size to the last. Grey walls and floor, no windows, four screens all displaying that infuriating screen saver. There was nothing else in the room; no indication of what Eurus’ crazed mind had concocted for them.

“Hey, sis, don’t mean to complain but this one’s empty. What happened? Did you run out of ideas?” Sherlock’s sarcasm was back in full force, and for a moment Mycroft was glad of the little bit of ‘normal’. If he tried hard enough, he could pretend that Sherlock wasn’t falling apart, could pretend that he wasn’t tearing at the seams.

The screens flickered and Eurus appeared, obviously still sitting in the governor’s office as she monitored her little experiment. “It’s not empty, Sherlock. You’ve still got the gun, haven’t you? I told you that you’d need it, because only two can play the next game.” Her words sent an icy chill through Mycroft as he realised what was about to happen. A very quick calculation showed that probability was not in his favour. As much as he knew caring was not an advantage, it was powerful. He knew that if this was his choice, if he had to decide between his brother and you, there would be no doubt. “Just two of you go on from here, your choice. It’s make-your-mind-up time. Whose help do you need the most. John or Mycroft?”

With a frown, Mycroft looked at John, who just sighed and turned away, obviously fighting his own frustration and fear. This was not fair. He had spent his whole life trying to protect his little brother, and now his mind scrambled for something that could help.

“It’s an elimination round. You choose one and kill the other. You have to choose family or friend? Mycroft or John Watson?” The glee in Eurus’ voice was sickening, and the lights once again turned red, that infuriating ticking noise now accompanied by Jim Moriarty’s face on the screens. Anger bubbled within the usually collected man, and Mycroft felt as if he might burst. He had been caught in an explosion, made to witness a man blow his own brains out, required to condemn a man and then forced to stand silently by as your life was put in danger. This was it. This was his breaking point.

“EURUS, ENOUGH!” Mycroft yelled; his fists clenched with pure rage. The lights returned to their usual hue, and his sister appeared back on the screens, a smile playing on her lips.

“Not yet, I think. But nearly. Remember, there’s a plane in the sky and it’s not going to land.”

Cool logic quelled the burning rage within him, and Mycroft ran his hand over his face. Sacrifice the few to save the many. This was an impossible decision for his brother, but he could make it easier.

“Well?” He looked at Sherlock expectantly, taking a few steps towards him.

“Well, what?” Sherlock glanced at his brother, confusion creasing his brow.

“We’re not actually going to discuss this, are we?” Mycroft looked at John and just hoped if there was some omniscient deity that they would forgive him for what he was about to say. “I’m sorry, Doctor Watson. You’re a fine man in many respects.” Turning back to his brother with an incredibly pompous air, he attempted to show he was completely unaffected by all this. “Make your goodbyes and shoot him.”

Sherlock looked at his brother in disbelief, his eyes darting from Mycroft to John, and back again. The tension in the air was thick, and Mycroft attempted to calculate how long before his brother snapped, before the bullet in that pistol would be fired and rip through his flesh.

“Shoot him!” Mycroft’s raised voice seemed to break John out of his stupor, and he took a few steps towards the man.

“What?” John’s eyes met Mycroft’s for a brief moment, and the eldest Holmes brother knew he was doing the right thing. Turning his gaze back to Sherlock, he found the words falling from his lips naturally, as if they had just occurred to him.

“Shoot Doctor Watson. There’s no question who has to continue from here. It’s us; you and me. Whatever lies ahead requires brainpower, Sherlock, not sentiment. Don’t prolong his agony. Shoot him.”

“Do I get a say in this?” John asked gruffly, looking from one man to the other in indignation.

“Today, we are soldiers.” Mycroft turned to the shorter man and met his eye, somewhat hesitantly. He needed John to believe what he was saying, needed him to help push Sherlock to do what was necessary. “Soldiers die for their country. I regret, Doctor Watson, that privilege is now yours.” Sherlock watched the interaction closely, taking in every micro expression his brother attempted to hide from him.

“Shit.” John breathed, the realization weighing heavily on him, and Mycroft could see the doctor mull over the situation. “He’s right.”

“Make it swift. No need to prolong his agony. Get it over with and we can get to work.” As John shifted on the spot and braced himself for the inevitable, Mycroft wondered what was going through his mind. Was he thinking of Mary? Of Rosie? Of the girl on the plane and the people his sacrifice could save? Staring down the barrel of a gun, what thoughts might rush through a man’s mind? Mycroft knew what he hoped his final thoughts would be. He wanted them to be you, your smile, your eyes, your laughter. He could sacrifice himself for you. He might never be able to tell you how much you meant to him, but hopefully he could show you with this act.

Sherlock half turned away from the two of them, lowering the gun, and Mycroft realised his brother needed more of a push. Steeling his nerve, he scoffed and let out a cruel chuckle. “God! I should have expected this. Pathetic. You always were the slow one, the idiot. That’s why I’ve always despised you. You shame us all. You shame the family name. Now, for once in your life, do the right thing. Put this stupid little man out of all our misery.” His heart was racing, anticipating his final moments, hoping that even through his rage, his brother could make the shot clean. He didn’t want a long, drawn out death. He would prefer to go into shock and depart within seconds rather than the agony of bleeding out. Sneering at his brother, he demanded, “Shoot him!”

“Stop it.” Sherlocks voice was soft, barely audible in the seemingly airless room.

“Look at him. What is he? Nothing more than a distraction, a scrap of ordinariness for you to impress, to dazzle with your cleverness. You’ll find another.” Mycroft continued, called upon everything he had ever thought about the goldfish that surrounded him, recalled the things he had believed before he met you. He knew John could not be replaced by his brother any more than you could be replaced for him. Some relationships become a cornerstone of a person, make you your best self. He wondered if you thought that of him.

“Please, for God’s sake, just stop it.” Sherlock sighed, still unable to look at Mycroft or John.

“Why?” The British Government spat with as much derision as he could muster.

“Because, on balance,” Sherlock turned slowly to face his brother with a look of heartbreaking understanding, “even your Lady Bracknell was more convincing.”

Mycroft blinked, his eyes meeting Sherlock’s, and disappointment washed over him. Even at a time like this, his little brother could see right through him. He had failed in his attempt to help, failed to ease the way.

Sherlock tilted his head in John’s direction but kept his eyes on Mycroft, as if taking in every detail for the final time. “Ignore everything he just said. He’s being kind. He’s trying to make it easy for me to kill him.”

John looked at Mycroft in confusion, the sudden change of gear had relief and concern pass over his features. “Which is why this is going to be so much harder.” Sherlock said softly as he raised the gun once again, taking a steady aim at the man who had saved his life so many times.

Mycroft gave him a small smile. “You said you liked my Lady Bracknell.” It was a silly comment, intended to let his little brother know that this was okay, that he loved him, and this outcome was not his fault.

“Sherlock. Don’t.” John stepped forward, partly blocking the shot. He knew what this would do to his friend and he couldn’t allow it. There had to be another way.

“It’s not your decision, Doctor Watson.” Mycroft stated, not taking his eyes from Sherlock. He needed to be strong, needed to make this okay. His tone was resigned when he next spoke, “Not in the face, though, please. I’ve promised my brain to the Royal Society.”

“Where would you suggest?” Sherlock asked amiably, as if he didn’t have a pistol pointed at his brother. The whole situation was so surreal that Mycroft almost laughed.

“Well, I suppose there is a heart somewhere inside me.” His fingers fumbled to do up the top few buttons of his shirt. This was it. Not quite how he thought he would go out, but perhaps a most fitting end. He straightened his tie and gave his brother another small smile. “I don’t imagine it’s much of a target but…” His thoughts returned to you, and he suddenly considered that perhaps it was a larger target than people would believe. This was a good thing, bowing out now. He probably wouldn’t be very good at this whole ‘love’ thing, would only end up making a mess of it. Best leave now, before he made a fool of himself. At least he knew how you felt, that would get him through these final moments, knowing you loved him. Mycroft noted the attempted smile at his little joke from his brother, and felt a strange calm descend. “…why don’t we try for that? Just… just promise me that you will take care of her.”

Sherlock's eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly as he studied his brother. How could he have missed it? All the signs were there, but he had assumed Mycroft incapable of such emotions. Looking into Mycroft’s eyes, Sherlock could see the insecurity, the longing, and as he thought back to the little interactions between you and his brother it all fell into place. Mycroft Holmes had finally found someone who had managed to sneak past all his defenses, and now he was making the ultimate sacrifice.

“No. I won’t allow this. You can’t.” John’s voice rang out in the small room, and Sherlock wondered if his dear friend was correct as he lowered the gun. Now he knew the future he would be stealing from Mycroft, could he take his life?

“This is all my fault.” Mycroft sighed, knowing the truth had to come out. “Moriarty.”

“Moriarty?” The dark-haired detective looked quizzically at him, trying to put the pieces together.

“Her Christmas treat. Five minutes’ conversation with Jim Moriarty five years ago.” The confession hung in the air, the weight of it now lifted from Mycroft’s shoulders as he saw the flash of understanding in Sherlock’s eyes.

“What did they discuss?”

“Five minutes’ conversation unsupervised.” Mycroft gave his brother a rueful smile as he sighed. He deserved this. It was his mistake to pay for.

As Sherlock raised the pistol once more, Mycroft placed his hands behind his back and braced himself. He wondered how you would remember him, how Sherlock and John would describe his role in all this. “Goodbye, brother mine. No flowers…by request.”

“Jim Moriarty thought you’d make this choice. He was so excited.” Eurus’ gleefully announced, the lights once more turning a deep red, plunging the room into gloom.

“And here we are, at the end of the line. Holmes killing Holmes.” The face of Moriarty, once more on the screen, a stark reminder that even beyond the grave he could, and would, take his revenge.

Mycroft shifted uncomfortably on the spot, wringing his hands behind his back. How many times had he made the mistake of handing Moriarty exactly what he needed to destroy Sherlock? He was a weak and flawed man, you deserved so much more. That was the thought that pushed its way to the front of his mind.

Sherlock looked at him with a determined gaze, but Mycroft could see that brain of his shifting things around. “Five minutes. It took her just five minutes to do all of this to us.” He looked at John, and then at Mycroft as he lowered the gun. “Well, not on my watch.”

Mycroft’s eyes widened as he looked at his brother in surprise. Had he discovered another option? One that would let all three of them leave this room?

“What are you doing?” Eurus’ voice rang out in a demanding tone, obviously wondering the same thing as her eldest brother.

“A moment ago, a brave man asked to be remembered.” Mycroft looked at his brother in alarm as he realised what Sherlocks words meant. “I’m remembering the governor.”

Sherlock held the pistol in both hands and pressed the muzzle under his chin, as if daring his sister to do her worst. “Ten…” He began to count down in a calm, measured tone.

“No, no, Sherlock.” The image of Eurus on the screens now frowned, this was obviously not how she thought this was going to play out.

“Nine…”

Mycroft’s hands were shaking. He couldn’t allow his brother to do this, not when the situation was entirely his own fault.

“Eight…”

“You can’t!” Shouted Eurus angrily.

John took a step towards Sherlock, nervous to make any sudden movements that may end up with his friend pressing the trigger.

“Seven…”

“You don’t know about Redbeard yet.” There was an urgent element to her tone now, almost as if she were bargaining with him.

“Six…”

“Sherlock!” Anxiety was written all over Eurus’ face as she stared from the screens. Sherlock was clearly spoiling her game.

Mycroft watched his brother closely, trying to assess if he really would pull that trigger when he reached one, or if this was an elaborate bluff. He could only hope the latter was the truth. There had been so many times he had nearly lost Sherlock, but to do so in such a final way, that would break his heart.

“Five…”

“Sherlock, stop that at once!” The panic in her voice now as her control on the situation well and truly slipped away made Mycroft wonder what she would do next. Surely, she had a back-up plan. One that was probably deadly to somebody, but a contingency nonetheless.

“Four…”

A sharp scratch to his neck made Mycroft raise his hand, but the feeling of disorientation suddenly swept over him. Growing woozy, the room began to swim in front of his eyes. He was aware of his brother continuing to count as a warm blackness engulfed him, and the last thing that came to his mind, as he drifted into unconsciousness, was a hope that he would get to see you again.

[paranaturalpop]

I rate your pnat ships by how well they work as foils

I’m Professor Pops, welcome to Literature 405: comparing and contrasting in pnat ships. Love is in the air but all that really matters is narrative symmetry!

Mina and Agent Day (submitted by @anxanhh)

two women on missions who need a confidante. 

Mina is a calculating woman of science with a tender, vulnerable heart deep down that she guards. Day is a fun, giggly love goddess but beneath the surface she is just as calculating.  

They are both focused on their prospective goals to the point of subterfuge. 

They have similar missions, to solve the many mysteries of Mayview, but they’re at odds instead of working together. Will these lone wolves learn to let their walls down and work towards a common goal? 

Their spectral energies are complementary colors!!!!!!!!!!!! 

9/10 so different yet so alike. They should kiss and also develop as people.

Spendcia

Where's that post about paranatural having what my hero academia wants?

These two had interacted in cannon only once before we found out they were dating, power move on Zack’s part

The cousinhood and the consortium seem to have bad blood…. Enemies to lovers????

As teachers, Garcia is tired and phoning it in while spender is energetic and committed. But when it comes to mystery solving Spender is burning himself out while Garcia keeps him grounded.

Garcia does things like pack spender lunches with little hearts drawn on the bag but was surprised to be called his boyfriend. He acts chill but inside he is deeply invested in spender but also knows about spender’s isolating tendencies. 

8/10 there's a reason these two have been off and on again for 6ish years, they’re walking a tightrope of vulnerability.

Imaax (submitted by Rubyya)

The Destiel of Paranatural. No I will not elaborate.

Here’s a pnat history lesson, the original ship name was Maxaac, but Zack weighed in on twitter with a much better alternative: Imaax. Also sometimes called Team Lightning Rod. 

Black and blue colors, just like the emotional bruises they leave on the people around them. 

Isaac wants to be seen as heroic and Max wants to be seen as aloof. It presents in different ways but deep down they both really care what other people think.

They both fear sincerity. Isaac protects himself with theatrics and Max with sarcasm. 

Isaac puts on a big show of having strong ethics but he’s a little mean on instinct. Max puts on a big show of cutting people down with his snark and devil-may-care attitude, but when push comes to shove he’s kind and cares how other people feel. 

Max immediately insults every person he meets and they still want to be best friends with him, while Issac tries so hard to be cool and nice but people just can’t stand him. 

The meta tension between Isaac, who wants so badly to be the protagonist, and Max “magnetic personally” Puckett who is exhausted with being the protagonist, is delicious. 

There’s a reason official art tends to portray them together. They bring out the best in each other. Isaac brakes through Max’s performative pessimism and Max brings Isaac down to earth. 

10/10 these two were written as a pair and it shows.

Suzabel (submitted by Rubyya)

One of my fav tropes is ‘enemies to friends’ where the enemy part is completely one-sided. Isabel probably thinks she and Suzy get along great. 

Both the heads of their respective clubs, but with very different leadership styles. 

Isabel only studies her grandfather's spectral style to please him and is a near master of it, while Suzy is incredibly self-motivated even though her actual skills are lacking. 

Isabel is at a crucial time in her life where she’s learning to distance herself from adult authority figures in order to take on more personal responsibility. Suzy is already blazing with independence and could help her adjust. 

Inversely, Isabel could teach Suzy a thing or two about treating your club members with respect and doing the emotional labor necessary to prevent future conflict. 

Red and pink! Valentines colors! 

Isabel could kill you but would never, Suzy would actually try to kill you. 

Investigative reporter/person living mysterious double life is a great dynamic.

Back when Izzy had Eightfold they had the ship name ‘Paper Girls’ which is awesome

7/10 Don’t ask me how I know this but they would kill at karaoke together. And they’re ok foils.

Bullymagnet

Max ‘too cool for clubs’ vs a boy who defines himself by his tight knit group. 

Max is learning to be less passive aggressive and johnny is learning to be less aggressive aggressive. 

Max’s entry to spectral life was when he injured Johnny and saw a shade of a doctopi on him, and Johnny's first shade was Max's doctopi after the hit ball game. 

Johnny refuses to commit to not bullying max anymore even though he really likes him, and max is working on being nicer but he’s still gonna be snarky with people even though they’re his friends. Old habits die hard. 

If he hadn't seen that shade, Max might have joined Johnny's gang. He has the style, the stunts, the snark. 

8/10 Just two bros whose lives are changing forever.

Isaac and Dimitri (submitted by Rubyya)

Here’s my pitch for a ship name: Brainstorm

Orange and blue are complementary colors. 

Isaac hurt Dimitri accidentally somehow. Hurting others accidentally is the central theme of chapter 5. 

Idealist/pragmatist is a classic dynamic

They both have relationships with their spirit partners that are rooted in fear. 

Dimitri’s self concept is overly dependent on his sense of intellectual superiority, and Isaac’s on ethical superiority. 

7/10 have not directly interacted in the comic yet but the narrative symmetry is there

Johnny and Isabel (submitted by Rubyya)

Burnhound Vs Shockadile

These two are natural leaders who know how to treat their friends with respect.

These jocks are both lethal weapons, but while Isabel is a master martial artist, Johnny is a passionate but blunt instrument.

They’re both going through similar identity crises.

Isabel is struggling to reconcile her violent and disciplined upbringing with a good, gentle heart and Johnny is trying to reconcile his violent and self-centered lifestyle with a developing respect and empathy for other people.

Johnny dies his hair red, so he would think it’s cool how Izzy emits a fiery red aura when excited.

8/10 there's a reason these two were the team leaders in the hit ball arch.

Violet and Lisa (submitted by Rubyya)

People have been theorizing about what kind of cryptid Lisa is since day one meanwhile Violet gives off big normie energy.

Lisa is very plugged into all the Mayview weirdness as the queen of the school underground, while Violet was the only person who thought to go get a teacher during the hit ball arch. Lisa was also the only one who really spoke openly about how something was clearly very wrong with Jeff, everyone else talked around it and played by the so called ‘rules’. Lisa’s secret brokering Vs. Violet’s ‘sunlight is the best disinfectant’ attitude presents two different approaches to trying to survive in a school run by a mysterious shadow organization within a town that contains several other mysterious shadow organizations.

“If you were, I’d have to be jealous too.” just two middle schoolers pinning over their crushes.

7/10 two girls against the world.

Isaac and Johnny

ship name: Firestorm?

Just 2 fiery redheaded mediums with anger management issues that command primal forces and wanna be best friends with max

Johnny chooses to have red spiky hair, Issac has had red spiky hair thrust upon him.

Both met Maxwell Pucket and decided they needed to change for the better.

I’ve said this before but Johnny and Issac have equal and opposite philosophies. Johnny doesn't care about the greater good, he just cares about a small group of people who he loves. Issac cares about the greater good, but can’t connect with individuals and ends up hurting them. Together they form one GoodTM boy.

Both their spirit partners want revenge on Spender. This spells trouble.

If there’s anyone to teach Isaac about unconditional friendship, it’s Johnny

Isaac has sworn off violence and Johnny worships at the altar of it.

9/10 they’ve only interacted in canon once so far but I’ve think we’ve got a big storm coming.

Suzy and Collin (submitted by Rubyya)

The Bakudeku of pnat. I will continue to not elaborate.

Suzy once stole Collin's phone which prompted Collin to try to cut her hair which prompted Suzy to stab Collin and at no point did either of them think to move to a different bus seat. As different as they are they are also very much the same.

Collin is the definition of mouth service (constantly disapproving of suzy’s antics but going along with it anyway.) while suzy is all action.

Despite their different attitudes they both seem genuinely passionate about the journalism club.

Fashion icons. Suzy’s sunglasses and legwarmers, Collins sweater vests and wrist bands, this duo could walk for Paris fashion week: middle school edition.

We’ve gotten an indication that Collin cares a lot about what Suzy thinks of him (taking off his wrist bands when she made fun of Max's) but we haven't gotten any sign yet that the feelings are mutual.

5/10 I think their story is yet to be told and we’ll get to know more about how they compare/contrast to each other in the future. Maybe brought on by Dimitri's betrayal?????

Cody and Isabel (Submitted by @a-bitchtm)

Cody is gay by WOG but that doesn't matter here since we are evaluating thematic compatibility, not romantic compatibility.

Red Vs. Blue

Izzy’s arch about stepping into her role as leader through communication and honesty contrasts Cody’s role as the secret class president. Izzy finally told Isaac the truth about the consortium, while Cody blatantly lied to max about being president.

Both seem to have generally good motivations and the skills/talent to back those motivations up.

Isabel is in the process of unlearning the ‘firm hand’ philosophy that she learned from her grandpa and Cody’s dad straight up tried to mind control him into murdering a toddler.

They were both taught to fall back on their capacity for violence and intimidation but those teachings conflict with the people they really want to be.

6/10 just two kids who are being led astray by authority figures trying to learn to be themselves.

Cody and Collin (Submitted by @gatortavern)

They both like vests.

Both beholden to blood thirsty predators

Collin is a journalist, Cody is a vampire/leader of the shadow government. It’s a huge power move on Cody’s part to hang out with Collin.

Cody’s support of his friends is enthusiastic while Collin would have you believe Suzy has kidnapped him.

4/10 they hang out for a reason but those reasons have yet to be fully developed

Isabel and Max (submitted by @Paranatural-goofiness)

They’re both people who have learned to put up walls to keep people out. Isabel through violence and intimidation, max through sarcasm and mockery. T

he other side of this is their mutual journey to let their walls down and connect with other people more genuinely, starting with each other.

Their search for acceptance and identity has led them both to become incredible athletes. Spectral fist martial arts = shred eagle stunts

As we saw in the hit ball game, Izzy faces things head on while Max is all about evasion. However we’ve seen how Izzy has actually learned to be evasive and guarded about her feelings while Max is a little more forthcoming.

8/10  Never has there been faster friends.

Isaac and Cody (submitted by Rubyya)

Drama kings

Isaac wants the likability Cody has.

Parallels of power: Isaac with power he didn't choose and cant control vs. Cody who also didn’t choose to have his power (elected), but wields it like an instrument.

Involuntary anime hair and involuntary glowing monster eyes

These two definitely both fall under the category of “lawful”.

I can see these two ending up on opposite sides of a conflict because they both have such rigid personal codes and an intense sense of duty.

I know I’ve been approaching almost all of these platonically but Isaac probably really wants a cool vampire boyfriend deep down

 7/10 Unstoppable force, meet immovable object. You two should watch anime together.

Hijack and PJ (submitted by @gatortavern)

They both wanna join the activity club so bad

Both have immature ideas about heroism and villainy. 

Both aspire to heroism while at the same time understanding that they aren't that yet and maybe never will be. 

They both, like many people in this comic, wanna be friends with max.  

5/10 Two supernatural babies who should play wii sports together

Stephen and Isaac (@Gatortavern)

Two boys who are easily overwhelmed

Lawful vs. chaotic

Isaac has enough secrets to give Stephen his conspiracy fix for a long time. 

In their own ways they both just want everything out in the open. 

Isaac is Stephen's dream, someone actually living a secret double life, and Stephen is Issac's dream, someone with a cool scar who would think he’s actually very interesting. 

5/10 these two are both very intense in their own way.

Johnny and Ed (Submitted by @theevilbrainman)

Two souls lost in the wind

Two people for whom friendship and loyalty is central to their character, and they’re both struggling with personal growth because of it. Johnny is afraid to change because his friends have always liked the person he already is, and Ed is struggling to even define himself outside of Isabel, the person he cares about the most. 

Both impulsive and uninhibited. 

They both live lives free from expectation. Johnny’s wild bully persona means no one is surprised by his antics or cruelty, while Grandpa Guerra doesn't really care if Ed takes up phantom fist like Isabel. He actually calls him a freeloader. Not having much expected of you can feel free but it’s also lonely and can warp your self-perception. 

6/10 these two crossed paths at exactly the right time.

I didn't cover every submission because even though only 9 people submitted you sent in 34 ships between you. Pnat’s fanbase is small but very dedicated. 

Honorable mentions: 

Johnny and clear sinuses, submitted by @gaul-the-unmitigated

Isaac and therapy, submitted by both @squidgeons and @somethingfishysgoingon

PJ and Johnny, submitted by @gatortavern, who seems to be under the impression that Johnny Would protect PJ and not destroy him just by breathing near him.

Day and Scabs, submitted by @gatortavern, because funny.

Special thanks to everyone who sent in ship between people who have never interacted in cannon, which was a lot of you. My eyes are opened now, so many possibilities.

[tainted-wine]

Evil Demonic Music

Priest!Reader X Demon!Present Mic

Hizashi has a large and filling feast on every Halloween night. He’s been doing it since before you were born. Yet here you are crashing his party while smelling like fresh meat in a den of wolves. It’s entirely your fault for throwing off his groove.

Disclaimer: Reader is more reminiscent of an action priest in a gothic action movie or anime. There’s little to no accuracy here. Lightning will most likely strike me the next time I venture outside.

Words: 7.9k

Warnings: Noncon/Dubcon, Christian Themes, Possession/Mind Control, Orgy, Public Sex, Sorta Corruption, Downer Ending

🎃👻🎃HAPPY LATE HALLOWEEN, EVERYONE!🎃👻🎃

------------x------------

Yuuei Club Presents “Dance With The Devil” Halloween Event LIVE Music by Present Mic Costumes Encouraged // Doors Open at 8 p.m.

It looked innocent enough; a graphical poster on the door of a building surrounded by smaller businesses in the outlet. It masked itself well in the daytime with its plain exterior, devoid of any attractive decorations save for the club’s name that glowed in hypnotizing neon when night falls. All of its temptations were contained inside, dormant until it was filled with careless souls seeking unholy pleasures.

You didn’t hate them for it. The temptation to sin is strong. It’s how evil thrives, and the average person lacks the strength to resist. It’s your duty to protect all people, even the faithless, from evil’s many devices. 

Like this nightclub.

Party locations like these were an uncommon feeding ground, although now that you think about it, the muddled and vulnerable minds residing within should make for easy meals. The loud and nonsensical “music” and absolute lack of restraint that the people displayed was baffling, but your task is to guard souls, not convert and guide them back to Heaven’s path. One demon in particular, however, favored ‘party animals’ more than any other creature from the vile depths.

“Easy there! You glare at this place any harder and it might combust!”

To the average human, the monster that appears beside you is nothing more than a tall blonde man with an inviting smile, but he can’t hide himself from the blessed and perceptive. Beneath the guise of spice and incense, he reeks of smoke and brimstone.

Hizashi, as he called himself, will never fool you.

“Stay back,” spit nearly flies from how harshly you say the words. You know that he can’t harm you, not while you wear your cross around your neck and calmly hold thoughts of your Lord in your mind. Still, you warn the dangerous fiend to keep his distance.

He obeys and innocently raises his hands. “Hey hey, you know I’m not out to hurt you, and you’re not gonna pull anything with that crafty little weapon there, right?”

No, you weren’t going to take a stab at him with the blade hidden in your holy necklace. You tried it before, an attempt to drive it into his back when he wasn’t looking. His hand caught your wrist at a speed you couldn’t comprehend – you were certain that you didn’t blink, yet you didn’t even see him move at all. His friendly smile didn’t waver, not a hint of anger visible on his face.

“Careful, baby priest! Don’t mean to sound cocky, but I’m way out of your league.” The warning wasn’t in his words, but in the heat of Hell itself that briefly washed over you, a sensation so powerful and real that you feared you were being dragged down that very instant. But the unseen flames died off the second he released your hand, eyes flashing a bloody red before returning to their usual emerald hues.

That was the first and only time you tried to banish him.

“I don’t trust you, but I’m not stupid,” was your answer, making sure not to let your hatred and disgust cloud your mind. He might take hold of that.

It was a satisfactory response, going by his bright beam of a smile. So friendly and inviting.

Months had passed when you finally accepted that he was a demon who genuinely enjoyed living alongside humans. He never spoke ill of your fellow men and commended them for their many ways of enjoying their short lives. Most demons you’ve dealt with favor negative emotions. Fear, sorrow, anger… those cold and bitter feelings attracted hellbeasts like flies to honey. 

But this one? He fed on mortals that were as cheerful and carefree as him. All of this still wasn’t enough to convince you that he is truly gentle, however.

Hizashi stayed where he was, staring at his own promotional poster. The urge to leave was almost overwhelming, but you couldn’t let him know how much he unnerved you with just his presence alone. Instead, you shuffle awkwardly and try not to utter prayers of protection. Whether or not that will anger him is something you don’t want to find out.

He rocks back and forth on his heels. “Are you pumped for the best night of the year? Man, Halloween never gets old for me, especially in this day and age. Everyone dancing while dressed like a bunch of monsters...it’s almost like I’m at home! Humans sure know how to party like tomorrow is The Cleansing.”

“Yes, and it’s shameful,” you humor him. “I have no interest in debauchery.”

He chuckled and shook his head. “It’s called having a good time, babe. Put the tome down and loosen up every once in a while.”

Put down the tome?

Loosen up?

Babe?

How dare he make you even entertain the thought of abandoning your teachings. You just know he’s trying to rile you up, to make you lose control. You won’t let him have his way. “I have my good times in moderation, on days when I praise God with my brothers and sisters with a glass of wine. There is discipline in everything, even celebration. Heathens simply get drunk and lose themselves in the madness.”

The demon chuckled as he ran his fingers through long golden locks. Just the beautiful sheen of his hair could probably attract the greedy. “Yep. Times sure do change, don’t they?”

“They don’t just change, they’re desecrated. What was once a day to ward off evil spirits now does the exact opposite. They’re too busy with their consumerism, candy, haunted houses…”

“Oh yeah, those haunted attractions are wild. So many of my buddies gorge themselves there. Free fear for the taking, ya dig?”

Despicable.

“And you don’t?” You test him. He was a conversationalist; a few probing questions won’t bother him, surely.

He withdraws his phone, scrolling through the screen for something. “Come on, you know me by now, don’t you? That sour stuff isn’t for me.”

“Forgive me for still struggling to trust you.” Sarcasm felt too risky, actually. You won’t use it again.

“Heh, no offense taken! You priests know just how cruel we can be sometimes. Mortals learned from the best, after all.”

Your lips twitch. His curve into a more wicked grin.

Every single passerby can’t seem to resist giving you odd looks. You can feel the eyes behind you as people make their way around the shops. Your garb wasn’t that strange; they’re acting like they’ve never seen a person in a robe and wearing several divine artifacts before. They would too if they knew what Hizashi was, who has yet to garner a single look of suspicion.

Ridiculous, his casual getup is actually fooling them. Perhaps the silly villainous mustache wasn’t big enough to give him away.

“Ah, here it is!” You nearly jumped from his voice and how quickly he leaned in, a video playing on his phone. “Just tap on the screen to play it an-”

“I know how to use a phone,” You hiss, taking the device from his hand and shooting him a glance every few seconds in case he tried something. 

The video was chaos, an unsteady view of flashing lights and thumping heavy beats. Whoever held it was smack dab in the middle of an energetic crowd that sang and danced like barbaric animals. It was an orgy of overindulgence. Too much drinking with their comically shaped cups and bottles, too much lust in their crude excuse of a dance, and synthetic drums that dragged on for so damn long, even the beat sounded drunk. It’s not the first time you heard the horrid noise; it unfortunately appears to be popular among the masses. 

God help these poor souls.

“Last year’s party.” Hizashi’s words cut through your thoughts. “Pretty hype, huh? Nothing gets my listeners goin’ like a hard trap beat!”

Oh? So he’s fully admitting it now? “So you’re calling it what it is, are you? Trapping them with your satanic melodies?”

The confusion on his face was very convincing, but you knew better. “What? No, that’s what the music is called.” 

You couldn’t help but snort. “Please, demon. What do you think sounds more believable: A genre of music with such a simplistic and misleading name, or evil tunes that your kind uses to ensnare unassuming mortals that don’t know any better?”

“....um…”

“I thought so.” To think that he’d slip up so easily. He wasn’t as clever as he thought. “Tell me what happened to the people in this video. Are they alive? Or did you drain them until they were nothing more than lifeless husks?”

There was a snicker behind you. Both you and Hizashi turned around to see a young man holding his phone up with an amused smile, giving a little wave after being noticed. “Sorry,” he didn’t sound sorry at all. “I really like your costume, miss. Your acting is awesome, too.” With that, he put away his phone and whatever images he now has of you and continued on his merry way.

Impertinent juveniles.

“Anyway, they’re all fine,” Hizashi said, eyes returning to the door while tapping his feet to a beat you can’t hear. “I know how to feed without causing any serious harm. Even if I do go a little overboard, they’ll just brush it off as having too much to drink.”

“It doesn’t matter how good you are at controlling yourself. You’re an evil entity invading human minds.” It takes every bit of strength to not flinch when he looks at you. Again, there’s no anger – there’s never anger with him – and it makes you all the more uneasy. Maybe a being as ancient and influential as him doesn’t find a novice exorcisor like you worth getting angry or even annoyed over. “Your stench will remain on those people forever, attracting more of your kind to them unless someone like me finds and cleanses them.”

He shrugs and rubs at the back of his neck. “Come on, your boy is doing his best here. What do you want me to do? Starve?” He considers what he just said for a moment before laughing. “Nevermind, don’t answer that. Look, I ain’t leaving the stage, little priest. I’m addicted. The noise, the energy, the way everyone just loses themselves in all of it.”

The way his tongue peeks out to swipe over his upper lip has every hair on your skin sticking up.

“Man, I wish they knew just how sweet their own essence is when they’re caught up in the lights and music. Sweeter than any candy the kids will be bringing home tonight.”

He compares consuming pieces of a soul to children’s treats. “You’re really not helping your case,” you remark.

Another shrug. “C’mon, you say that like I actually have a chance at winning with you! I won’t hurt anyone in there. You have my word.”

You scoffed. “A demon’s word is-”

“Worthless, I know. See what I mean?” He withdrew a ring of keys out of his pocket. “Welp, I think we’ve stood here and stared at the door long enough. I gotta prep for the big night. Thanks for the company!” A few more seconds pass when he finds the right key and opens the entrance to the club. 

You didn’t follow him inside. That would be careless.

Now it’s only you observing the building that will soon hold a giant living feast for the hungry monster. After another passing compliment about your “cool and authentic costume”, you figured you’ve stood around long enough. It was time to head home.

And find a way to keep everyone safe.

He was right; you have no way of getting rid of him yourself. That doesn’t mean you’ll stand by while knowing what danger these people will be walking into when night arrives. You’re not afraid to put your life on the line if it means protecting His children from the many evils on earth. When the first step of your plan takes root in your head, you change routes and make your way to the nearest costume shop.

Hizashi won’t be having his fill tonight.

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

8:30 p.m.

You weren’t expecting to encounter two demons tonight.

Well, perhaps that term isn’t appropriate. There is no sort of aura attached to the dark-haired man that you can trace back to the pits of Hell, but he is undoubtedly a creature of evil. One that was birthed from the shadows, living for eternity by lurking in darkness and drinking the blood of any unfortunate mortal that catches his eye.

“I knew it. I knew someone so close to Hizashi couldn’t be human.”

The vampire at the lively club’s entrance didn’t seem fazed by your accusation. He wasn’t even hiding himself. The sly bloodsucker knows that his crimson irises and enlarged fangs will be mistaken for prosthetics. Very convincing prosthetics.

“Nice to see you too,” he deadpans. 

You’re getting a little tired of these beasts brushing you off. “So what’s your feeding plan here? Waiting to find an innocent maiden who wishes to see the sinful wonders inside, then take her to the back and drain her dry?”

“Like you?” The smirk doesn’t reveal any teeth, but his predatory eyes are enough to make you step back and grip the cross that still hangs around your neck. Your reaction makes him chuckle darkly before he returns to his regular disinterested self. “I already ate.” That monster. “I’m here because Hizashi thought I’d make for good security.”

“So you intend to drink from anyone that steps out of line?”

“No.”

“Lies. Look here, vampire…”

“My name is Shouta.”

“...You and your friend won’t be preying on these naive humans for much longer. He told me about his trap music, but I won’t let his songs bewitch anyone tonight.”

He stared at you, one eyebrow quirked high up. “Alright...can you give me your hand already? There’s a line growing behind you.”

You look over your shoulder, and there is indeed a line of disgruntled people dressed as various monsters and characters. You have to admit that their costumes look to be of higher quality than the angel outfit you hastily bought in the store’s clearance section. The fuzzy headband for your halo was itchy and your flimsy wings were on the verge of falling off with every sudden movement.

With a glare that messaged him not to try anything, you cautiously extended your arm. He took your hand in his – deathly cold – and wrapped a thin paper tag around your wrist. “Have fun.” 

You always hate it when you can’t read their smiles.

The suffocating darkness around him was lifted when you made your way to the same doors you were looking at with so much contempt this morning. Glancing back, you saw others happily complimenting his ‘spooky’ appearance, to which he responded with either a quick thanks or a grunt. None of them seemed to notice his chilling aura or ice-cold touch.

Why must they be so blind to the evils that walk beside them everyday?

When you stepped in, the music nearly blasted you back outside. So loud, but not like the angelic choirs during gospel. You didn’t feel lifted, you just felt bombarded by pure noise. A repetitive tempo made the entire building pulse like a heartbeat. This didn’t sound like the music Hizashi supposedly used to put the crowd under a spell. It just repeated the same forsaken beat over and over again. Perhaps the repetition is meant to ease the victim’s mind and lure them in a false sense of security, then those long rolling beats will come in next, ensnaring them when their guard is down. Clever, but not clever enough.

You passed the lounge and bar area, paying no mind to the lecherous behavior around you. Boisterous laughs, alcohol being carelessly chugged…

“Hey there, angel.” A man dressed as a superhero nearly tripped over his own cape in his attempt to approach you. “You as innocent as you look? I can introduce you to the boUUUURP.” The sudden belch burned your poor eyes with the stinging smell of rum.

Lord have mercy on both you and these savages.

“No thank you,” you said through gritted teeth and brushed past him. The lights and colors are disorienting. Strobe lights, spotlights whizzing across the walls and floor, and vibrant ever-changing shapes on every surface. The intoxicated folk probably welcomed the flashing chaos. When you drink at the church, your sips stay modest and controlled, ensuring to never reach the stage of drunkenness. If you were feeling ‘buzzed’, as they would say, this musical and optical discourse would likely feel pleasant, like entering a world devoid of rules and consequences.

Also known as a world of sin.

A huge mass of bouncing bodies covered the dancefloor, and there on an elevated platform, acting as an advanced musical throne, was the evil orchestrator of the chaos.

And those long curved obsidian horns were most definitely real.

Even as he tampered with the many buttons and dials before him, Hizashi moved as wildly as his prey, too caught up in his own infernal electronic hymns to even notice your presence. Surely your chaste energy sticks out among these wrongdoers like a dove in a pit of serpents.

You need to activate your blessing before he eats. Good thing the vampire didn’t bother to inspect your costume for any natural evil repellents that you happened to be carrying.

Your self-made pockets were filled with sage and rosemary, common herbs used to drive away demons and spirits. You sprinkle them onto the floor as you continue to make your way to the center, where your power will work most efficiently.  Hopefully their scent will not be overpowered by the sweaty bodies and breaths laced with alcohol of all kinds.

Pushing through the dancing crowd was an arduous task. The music had since switched to something faster and more aggressive. The hectic sounds in this one was making you miss the boring but calmer tunes from before. You never considered what the sound of a robot vomiting would sound like, but it would probably sound similar to the cacophony of ‘whirs’ and ‘wubs’ that were assaulting your ears.

The mass was pushing and tossing you every which way. The variety of masks and makeup beneath the constant moving lights was rather frightening. Of course, you’ve dealt with plenty of real monsters, but it disturbed you to see your fellow man acting in such a frenzied matter in such a perplexing setting. You can see why Hizashi adored this environment. You couldn’t tell the difference between man and beast.

Straightening your halo, you decide that this spot will fare well enough.

Now it was time to apply holy water around your feet. Just a few drops of the blessed fluid will be enough to protect everyone here.

You close your eyes, ignore the many bodies bumping against you, and pray.

O Lord, protect me from temptation.

The water trickles out before you.

O Lord, forgive those who have been led astray.

“WOOOO SHIT! THIS IS MY JAM!”

The nearby exclamation makes your eyebrow twitch.

For we know that your power is greater than any evil.

The song is deafening, but you keep going.

Grant, O Lord, the protection fro-

Someone violently collides into you, knocking the bottle right out of your hands and rolling away to disappear behind the wall of stomping shoes.

Shit! Forgive my language, Father!

You elbow the fools blocking your way, ignoring the occasional “hey” or “watch it” during your desperate search for the most important tool against evil influences.

You didn’t even finish your prayer. You need to at least do that first, before it’s too late. Clapping your hands together, you shut your eyes again and moved your lips rapidly.

OLordprotectmefromtemptationOLordforgivetosewhohavebeenledastrayforweknowthatyourpowerisgreaterthanany-

“HERE COMES THE DROP!”

The rhythm and bass changed drastically, and with it came a powerful wave of raw exhilaration.

It’s like a force was injecting every positive chemical directly into your bloodstream. The abundance of newfound energy needed to be released, just like the tension that was released from that beat drop.

Your hips are swaying in a way you’ve never moved them before, and you can’t make them stop.

Stop! Stop, please! This is his doing!

“How are my listeners doin’ tonight?!”

The demon’s voice booms through the speakers, seeping into your ears and filling you with so much excitement that you can’t help but cheer with everyone else. Your senses feel simultaneously enhanced and dulled. The humans around you were out of focus, but the diabolical DJ up ahead was so clear, it’s like you were right in front of him. The hunger in his currently red eyes struck fear in you even as you danced.

“Woo, I’m lovin’ this energy! Thanks for coming by this Halloween, ya little monsters! Now...bring this house down!”

Your heart accelerates from the rush and you begin to jump in sync with the possessed crowd. Even the people standing by or sitting at the bars couldn’t resist, joining the growing horde on the dancefloor to jump in unison. 

It was unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. Not a care in the world. No customs, no praise. It didn’t give you that warm feeling of ascension. Instead you just felt...liberated.

No!

Struggling in the demon’s grip, you cleared your thoughts just enough to try to calm yourself and regain control.

Utter a prayer. Hurry. Focus. You need His protection.

‘Baby priest? Is that you?’

That is not the mighty entity you wanted to hear. The voice echoes in your head, impossible to escape. When your eyes open, you see that above the vast sea of faces, Hizashi is staring right at you. 

‘I thought the dancefloor smelled a little weird! I was so busy feelin’ the beat that I almost missed you!’  You watched him laugh as he continued to violate your mind. Damn him. Wasn’t possessing you cruel enough? ‘Please, no prayers when I’m about to dig in. That’s gonna leave a bad taste in my mouth. Just keep groovin’ like everyone else!”

Your limbs obeyed without your consent and followed the rhythm. This didn’t even sound like the music you heard in the video. Were you just foolish in thinking that he only used one specific sound to trap his victims?

With another change in the bassline, a heavier weight invaded, reaching right into the depths of your heart and tugging at your very soul. You know that fear will only make you more defenseless, but there was no fighting the terror that overtook you.

Not when a demon was feeding from you.

Your brain clashed with itself. You had to keep fighting, even as he stole a fragment of what your gracious Heavenly Father had gifted you and every human, but the cheerful voices implanted in your mind begged you to stop worrying and just give in already.

There was no stopping your movements or the unending rush that surged as strongly as the music. Only now, as he completely ignored your holy safety measures and tainted your soul as easily as the oblivious heathens surrounding you, did you fully understand just how great the differences in power between him and you were.

‘Whoa...holy shit.’

The breathless moan in your head made you shudder. 

‘I haven’t tasted a human as pure as you in ages.’ 

“Please! You’ve already fed from me!” You scream out loud as the mob revels in the thrilling sensation of having a part of them sucked away. Your voice is drowned out by the music and shouts, yet you know that the horrid fiend can hear you loud and clear. “Just get out of my head!”

The dancing stops.

The music stops.

Everything stops.

It’s relieving to finally let your body rest from the forced celebration. The lights still flash and move in the dead silence. Every single person in all of their costumed glory turns and pins you with a sharp glare. Their eyes were unfocused and glazed over, consciousness elsewhere. Hizashi was in full control of all of them.

The demon himself looked down at you, no longer wearing his usual friendly and carefree smile. He was now showing the more twisted happiness you were used to seeing on his kind.

Crazed and eager to devour.

He spoke into the microphone on his headset, voice low and eerily calm. “Angel, you can’t just give me a sample of a five-star meal and expect me to not want more.”

The dread threatens to make you faint.

“Hey, none of that!” He laughs and switches back to his cheery tone. “I told you the negative emotions aren’t for me. I mean, a lady as sweet as you is gonna taste delicious either way. Why don’t you come on up here?”

You didn’t want to. You wanted to flee from this entire situation that you foolishly believed you were ready for. You thought you could sneak into this age-old creature’s gathering and force him to go hungry for the night.

Cockiness treads horribly close to pride, and pride goes before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall.

You clearly didn’t have a say in the matter, what with your feet moving forward on their own. Every individual in front of you stepped aside to create a clear path from you to Hizashi’s platform. Their eyes never left, heads slowly turning as they watched you slowly climb the steps with legs that trembled from your resistance.

As he stood tall clad in leather behind the large mixer table, you noticed along with his sturdy horns, he also sported a black pointed tail that lazily swayed behind him. And his stench...the foul smell that would often make you crinkle your nose was replaced with a pleasing fragrance, like a sweet and fruity beverage. It was undoubtedly the work of his spell; everything about him has suddenly become tempting.

At this point you were wishing for the music to return so that you couldn’t hear your thunderous heartbeat as you stopped right in front of him. His hellish eyes observed you from head to toe, holding his chin between his fingers before shaking his head and smirking.

“Ya really couldn’t find a better costume?” He snickered as he got closer and fiddled with your cheaply-made gown. You avoided looking directly into his eyes, afraid of falling into the blood-red depths and never finding your way back out.  “Or do you priests work on a budget?” He pauses when he notices the contents in your pockets. “Oh?” A hand is shoved inside and pulls out a handful of herbs.

“Aww gross! Sneakin’ herbs into the joint?” He winces from the smell before tossing them aside, leaving them to scatter into the unmoving group below.

How? His reaction should have been much stronger…

“Not that this stuff really works when I’m vibin’ in my element, but I’m hurt! I thought we had some trust!” He pinches your cheek, knowing that you’re unable to pull away. “And I thought you knew that I was way out of your league. You’re gonna need the big guns if you plan on keeping me away from my food.” The breath blowing into your face is abnormally hot.

There’s a layer of something otherworldly hidden in his tone whenever he emphasizes his words, like a filter poorly attempting to cover up a monster’s true guttural voice. 

But once again, he switches back to normal, which does nothing to calm you. “But I’m not gonna get mad at some rookie that doesn’t know better, especially one as tasty as you!” Twirling around, he pushes a few buttons on the table that you didn’t even know where to begin to figure out. 

“Sorry about the interruption, listeners!” He says to the crowd, cruelly acting like they have any ability to respond. They continue to stare blankly. “I hope you don’t mind if I switch things up a bit. Your boy is gonna be a little preoccupied during the next few tracks.”

The deafening silence is lifted with the start of a new song, and the people suddenly spring back to life, completely unaware of the mindless state they were in. Their only goal was to keep partying.

Your body was moving again as well, this time bobbing gently to the double and triple beats and low frequencies that vibrate through the floor and up your spine.

This...this was the type of melody you feared, and yet it didn’t affect you any more than the other songs. All of them were traps.

The only way you can think of fighting back is by filling your head with songs of praise. Keep your Lord in your thoughts. He will protect you.

“Tsk...angel, that stuff doesn’t work when I, ya know, already ate a piece of you.” His face tightened from hearing just a few seconds of the holy song in your head. “I told you, ya gotta loosen up a bit. You’re already dancing better than I thought you would!”

He paid no attention to his other prey, instead admiring your simple but energetic movements.

Then he began to move as well, shoulders doing a slow shimmy and following each of your steps with his own, moving closer and closer until he was able to wrap an arm around your waist and pull you in.

He’s warm. Not burning or emitting an aura of terrifying darkness. The music suddenly feels softer, easing your fears. Like an intimate embrace. 

“There, it’s not so bad, is it?” He says lowly, lips almost touching your face. “Quit thinking about your big daddy for once.”

You want to protest against the disrespectful nickname for your God, but he predicts your reaction and tightens his hold on your spirit.

“You taste so damn incredible right now, don’t mess it up,” he groans and savors you. With every part of you that is consumed, it becomes harder to resist. It would be so easy to just hold onto him and keep swaying like this, rocking back and forth as his hips press against yours, grinding into you.

The unfamiliar sensation startles you, but Hizashi shuts down your panic with a growl. “Fuck, I can’t believe I’ve forgotten.” he murmurs into your shoulder, breathing deeply to take in your scent. “I’ve been so hooked on the party life that I forgot just how heavenly innocents like you taste. To think that I’d have an actual priest dancing with me, tasting that revelry from such a pure source...pardon my blasphemy, but goddamn.”

You’re swimming through the fiery haze clouding your mind, clawing against it in a desperate search for an opening. But with every beat, the haze thickens and you sink further in.

You couldn’t find the light. No salvation.

More sinful feelings assault you from the friction of his groin against yours, a growing bulge rubbing on your most sacred area. It sends a foreign tingle down there.

“Ooooh, don’t think I can’t feel that, baby” he rasps, holding you so closely in a dance fitting for two lovers. “I can sense everything now that you’ve let me in.”

That angers you enough to find your voice again, just barely. “I didn’t let you in...” You tense from another hard grind. “Foul...beast.”

“Are you sure? You’re giving in pretty easily. It’s nothin’ to feel bad about, I promise. Humans aren’t built to resist life’s basic needs, so I don’t know why the big man in the clouds gets so wound up about it all the time.” 

How dare he.

“Damned snake!” You force your hands to beat against him and push him off. “You will not corrupt me with the Devil’s words!”

He’s actually shocked for a moment, even to your own surprise, but he laughs it off. “Geez, my bad! I guess you are pretty persistent. Must be…” He grabs the cross around your neck, ignoring your horrified gasp. “...this.”

With a sharp yank and a pinch at the back of your neck, your one remaining object of holy protection is removed.

And with its loss, his influence completely overpowers you. The clearness of your senses switches on and off.

The music is muffled. It’s too loud.

The roaming lights are blurry. Too bright.

Are you still moving? Or is your body too heavy?

“It stings a bit, but that little thing can’t do much when the wearer’s already under my control.” An unfocused image of the demon tossing your precious necklace over his shoulder, the necklace you’ve held close to you since the day you first stepped into the cathedral and accepted your role as a righteous defender of man.

Your essence is now being stolen so quickly that it makes you shiver. He shouldn’t be taking this much.

“Mmm, I can’t get enough of this,” Teeth that are too sharp brush against your neck, threatening to pierce your skin. “I’m an old guy, ya know. I’ve done a lot of experimenting over the centuries, to see what I’m into.”

There’s a rip, and your gown is being pulled down along with your wings. It only relieves you from the growing heat of your surroundings.

“Y’see, our daddy isn’t a helicopter parent. He brings us into the world and just...lets us decide what to do. So no, my words ain’t the Devil’s words. They’re just mine, honey. I live for myself.”

Tilting your head, he presses his lips against your throat, making your breath hitch. No, your body is sacred. Don’t let him do this to you.

You don’t even know when the music had changed, but you’ve noticed the club was filled with a synthetic ambiance, the colors switching to magenta and cyan. 

The party demon is so captivated by you that he doesn’t even acknowledge the change in tune. “I used to stalk the depressed. Wasn’t worth it, they were too bland.” He peppers kisses down to your collarbone. “I tormented scared paranoid folk. Fun, but it loses its flavor fast.”

Your bra is removed to expose your breasts to him and the entire populace within the building. Your heart races, but the synths don’t stop seeping into your ears, the bliss wrestling with your fear. 

“Shh, don’t freak out. I’ll make sure everyone forgets everything that happened tonight.” He attempts to reassure you while massaging your newly revealed mounds. “So time went on as I treated my palate to different tastes. Wasn’t long before I realized my favorite vibes were the good ones. Festivals, games, a few buddies hangin’ out,” he lowered himself and flicked your nipple with his tongue. “Or a couple fucking, I ate all of it up. And after a while I decided that I just liked people in general.”

The pleasure felt when your breast is engulfed by the heat of his mouth is shameful. Hizashi moaned at your taste, though you weren’t sure if it was the taste of your flesh or your lust that was exciting him.

“I liked it when humans were having good times, so I figured out how to join in on the fun and damn, how do you guys keep finding new ways to rock out? The prudes keep droning on about how my favorite type of people have lost their way, but I think they’re the ones who found paradise, and they’re not even dead yet!” After nursing on both of your breasts, he rises and grabs your face to turn it toward the crowd. “I mean, just look at how these guys – oh.”

‘Oh’ indeed.

The people were no longer dancing. They were grabbing at each other, at men and women they probably didn’t even know, tearing apart clothes in a vicious urge to fornicate right there on the dancefloor. Some of them were already completely nude. You avert your eyes to stare at your feet instead.

Hizashi cleared his throat. “Whoops. Look what ya made me do, angel. My lust got the best of me!” He held you close while watching the horrid act before him. You’re trying to move your heavy arms to cover your bare body. “No wonder I’m feeling so horny. Think I should make them stop?”

It takes effort to nod your head.

His lip sticks out in an exaggerated pout before going, “Nah. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen an orgy. I bet this is a first for you.”

Something tickles your hips, your eyes wandering over to see the arrow-like point of his tail curling around your white panties, tugging them down.

Part of you already knows that Hizashi is allowing you to struggle for his own amusement. With all of your protection gone, he can easily stop you from swatting at the flexible limb as it brings your final article of clothing down to your ankles.

Wearing nothing but the small strap around your wrist, you want so badly to curl up and hide yourself. You were completely bare on a stage with a demon quietly taking in your form. The contrasting feelings of anxiety and calm threaten to tear your psyche in half.

“Given how anal you guys are about chastity, I think it’s safe to say no one’s ever touched you before?” The way you tense tells him enough. “Alright alright, relax. I’m gonna make this easy for you.”

‘How? By letting me leave?’ You want to say, but your vocal chords aren’t cooperating.

He grinned from ear to ear. “Well, no. I told ya I know everything goin’ on in that head.” He grabs you by the shoulders and places you right in front of his mixer.

There were many suggestive sounds amongst the pile of writhing bodies before you. It was the most depraved sight that you’ve ever witnessed. These people may have been sinners for their immoral pursuits, but they were still victims of a wicked creature’s influence. You wish you could apologize to all of them for failing to protect them.

Slender fingers massaged your shoulders. “Ain’t it beautiful?” He whispers hotly into your ear. “I’m not that crazy about lust, but I can’t resist when it’s coming from someone like you.”

His aura has you shackled on the spot, unable to move or even tear your eyes away from all of the sex. His voice meshes with the increasingly sensual tunes, both him and the music putting you in a deep trance that leaves every nerve in your body extra sensitive.

You’re gently pushed to lean forward until your hands are supporting yourself on the table. The leather of his clothes pressed against your back is irritating, but easily overshadowed by the hands trailing down your skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

“One of my favorite hobbies was hunting down faithful maidens like you. All demons love doing it, really. You can’t top raw innocence, it’s always a delicacy. It’s the closest most of us will ever get to fucking an actual angel. I managed to fuck an angel, and lemme tell ya, it’s a once in an eternity experience.”

He reaches your mound. There is still fear and an urge to pray, though it’s drowned out by the electronic harmony and all of the hot sex.

“Now she’s a fallen one that hangs out with me. Pretty little devil’s obsessed with sex now. If you’re lucky, maybe she’ll give you a visit in your sleep at midnight.”

His fingers reach your untouched folds, making you gasp. You’ve never felt so much lubrication down there before. Was that normal?

“I was really good at the whole corruption thing, so good that I caught the attention of the big holy boys. They were toughies, gotta hand it to 'em. I decided to lay low after that little showdown. That was all a preeetty long time ago.”

The demon’s voice is background noise as you watch deplorable acts that you didn’t even know existed. One woman was taking a cock into her mouth while another man pounded into her from behind. A new male approached and grabbed her free hand, wrapping her fingers around him and encouraging her to stroke him.

Three men pleasuring themselves with the same woman. They were probably complete strangers.

The repulsive sight makes you wetter.

They sure were having fun.

Hizashi hums at your arousal, sinking a digit into your folds. 

“Ah,” you choke on your own voice. His other hand plays with your breast again while you’re being penetrated for the first time. Some sort of flame was growing within you, burning and pleasing at the same time.

“I thought I’ve found my place. Going place to place and bringing in crowds who just want to forget their troubles for a day and groove.”

The finger pushes through your tightly clenched walls, or at least they try to.

“Fuck, relax a bit, babe,” he groans.

You do exactly that, giving him enough leeway to push in and out at a steady pace. You don’t think about the violation, only the strange friction that has no right to feel as good as it does. 

“And then you come along,” An unexpected sharp thrust causes his finger to brush against a spot that fills your vision with even more blinding lights. “It’s not like I was after you or anything. You’re a solid negative ten on the threat scale, but ya just wouldn’t leave me alone!” He relentlessly hits the spot again, and again, until you’re crying out and your legs are shaking. “Then you waltz in here and try to ruin my favorite night of the year?

He’s able to hide his anger as he speaks, but fails to keep it from entering his possessed victims. The orgy becomes more violent, all of the people looking no more civil than savages in torn rags as they try to dominate and fuck each other senseless.

It affects you as well, going by how annoyed you’re getting by his rambling. Can’t he just focus on pleasing you?

His finger leaves you too soon, your cunt already missing the brand new sensations. “Sorry, babe,” he says when he releases you and begins to undo his pants. “Normally I’d spend more time warming up, but I gotta join in on the raunchiness now before I go nuts. Just...do me a favor.”

You whined, wiggling your hips and rubbing your ass against his freed cock. He only chuckles at your impatience.

“Slow your roll, I’ll get started as soon as you push that button riiiight there.”

You push one of the many glowing buttons, and stock phrases are shouted out of the speakers.

“No, the one next to it.”

You press it, and another song begins.

Hizashi hums in approval. “I usually do a smooth transition between songs, but…”

A hard impact knocks you forward with the overwhelming feeling of being completely filled all at once. The stretch and pressure has your mouth hanging open in a silent scream.

“....Yeah, I just wanted to do that. And-” He yanks the halo off your head and drops it at your feet. “-I always loved the symbolism in that.”

He wastes no time building up. You’re being pounded as hard and consistently as the energetic beat. It should hurt, but the euphoric state of your mind dulls any pain and discomfort. 

With the demon inside both your head and your womanhood, there was no saving yourself. Your prayers wouldn’t even be heard through this thick depraved fog.

“Oh fuck yeah,” He growls loudly with his wild thrusts, hands gripping your hips tightly enough to bruise. “I’ve been missing out. So hooked on the party life that I don’t even remember how it feels to eat up a modest little soul like this.”

Was he still devouring you? You can’t even tell, not while you’re trapped in this melodic dreamworld as his cock rams you.

“Ya mind if we do this again sometime?” He angled himself to ensure he was hitting that sweet spot with each rhythmic pump. Despite his aggression, his hips moved with musical purpose. “Not like you’re much of a priest anymore. You’re fuckin’ a demon, sweetheart. I think the pearly gates have closed for you.”

That sounds sad and all, but God does he feel good. The entire moment was feeling like a hallucination. Your world was saturated with fuzzy images and muffled bass as your virgin pussy was ravaged. The tightened heat in your core was growing hotter by the second.

Hizashi just wouldn’t stop talking even as he became short of breath. “Ah, don’t worry, my doors are always open to misfits!” His rhythm falters a bit when you give him an especially tight squeeze. “Ya like that? I can always wipe your memory of tonight along with everyone else’s, and you can head back home. I just don’t think your next visit to the house of God is gonna end well.”

How does he expect you to care with the way he’s plowing into you?

His arms wrap around you in an embrace. “No pressure, angel. You can decide later. For now, just enjoy the show.”

And finally, he shut up and focused on fucking your divine lights out.

With his pelvis flush against your ass, Hizashi humps with newfound vigor, his thrusts rapid yet precise enough to keep stimulating your most sensitive areas.

The blinding stars in your eyes make it impossible to even make out what’s happening in front of you. A shame, because you want to know if you’re being dicked down as good and hard as the whores on the dancefloor.

The demon may not be talking anymore, but he was still being very vocal about his pleasure with feral moans and growls right into your ear. 

An extra hard slam forces you to nearly topple onto the controls, hands scrambling to keep you upright and hitting several buttons in the process. 

A series of sounds and distortion effects are added to the song.

It unexpectedly riles him up. “Shit, that wasn’t a bad mix, angel. I might have a junior DJ in the making,” he praises.

The tempo changes - different speed and new layers - and Hizashi follows suit by switching his quick bucks into deep thrusts.

The fire inside was close to doing...something. You weren’t sure what it was or what exactly will happen if this lasts any longer, but part of you knows that it’s about to feel very good.

With the head of his dick striking you nice and deep, you quickly learn that you were right.

The explosion of spasms was too pleasurable to even comprehend, each contraction tearing filthy screams from your throat. Hizashi bursts soon afterwards and fills you up with a cry even more lewd than yours.

Just like that, your mind is freed and the weight of his aura is lifted...and you feel gravely tired.

A coldness sweeps over you and saps every ounce of your strength. You find yourself dropping to your knees and falling over as a distant voice expresses genuine worry.

“Oh.......I overfed.” Though it doesn’t sound as panicked as it should.

You don’t want to close your eyes. You fear that something terrible might happen if you do, but your eyelids are quickly becoming too heavy to fight.

“Really sorry, little priest! I didn’t mean to! Look at the bright side - my friends are gonna love ya down there! Home isn’t half as bad as those books make it out to be!”

Each word sounds fainter than the last, but you still catch each one.

Home?

Your eyes shut. 

And the remains of your soul become stained with ash and black before heading downwards into the demonic realm.

Welcome home.

[maruscheese]

Bust your kneecaps

Pairing: Yandere!Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.6k

Warning(s): Implied death, cheating, toxic relationships, some angst at the beginning?, just Fuyuhiko doing baby gangsta stuff lmao idk

Your boyfriend cheats on you and you seek comfort in your best friend, who is also the Ultimate Yakuza.

“Darling, please, let’s talk about this,” You begged, showing your boyfriend a pleading look as you watched him hurriedly shove the last of his belongings in a suitcase.

“There’s nothing to talk about, y/n,” He stated coldly with a shrug of his shoulders, pressing down on the suitcase and swiftly zipping it shut, and with that, he pulled the luggage off the bed and on the wooden floor, pulling out the handle and inclining it slightly, ready to head out.

“But you… How can you do this to me? You said… I thought…” You tried to speak, trying to find something to say that could touch his heart, try to find the old him, the one who loved you.

But the words just weren’t coming out.

Mainly because at this point, there really wasn’t much left to say. It was clear by the way he sighed at your pathetic attempts at coercion and the way he raised his free hand to pinch the bridge of his nose in annoyance.

“Y/n… Look, I’m sorry, I really am, but I just…” He ran his fingers through his hair and took a deep breath, holding it in as he tried to find the right words to say. After all, he hadn’t stopped caring about you, he’d just fallen in love with someone else. But what would the right words be for telling someone you’d been seeing someone else for months now? What kind of words could possibly minimize the impact of confessing you’d fucked someone over and over again until it turned into something more than just a carnal relation? There really wasn’t anything that would make this any less painful for you.

“You just?” You asked, desperation in your voice. Did these years of dating mean nothing to him? Didn’t you deserve a proper explanation at least? 

“I fell in love with someone else, okay? I’m sorry. It wasn’t supposed to happen. We weren’t supposed to develop feelings for each other. But we did. And… And I’m not going to stay with someone I don’t love just to protect their feelings. I’m sorry y/n, but I’m putting my happiness first.” 

The words hit you like a bullet straight to the heart. It ached, it stung. You found yourself overwhelmed by all these awful emotions you wished you could say you’d never felt before, when you found his lipstick stained collars, or the much silkier, longer hair you’d find on his coat, or the cheap rose scented perfume that’d stick around on his skin even as you slept together, in the same bed.

In that moment, the emotions were more than overwhelming, though. When you’d first found out about his affair, you’d describe that as overwhelming, but this? No, this was so much more than overwhelming. It was on an entirely new level.

The hurt became too much, and your legs gave in, causing you to drop on your knees, stinging mildly from the sudden and harsh contact with the floor, but you barely registered it in the moment, finding yourself trapped amidst all this shock and hurt, realization hitting you like a punch to the gut. 

Apparently, you failed to realize exactly when he left the apartment too, but it’s not like that mattered since he was leaving anyway. He was going to chase his own happiness, regardless of how you felt about not being a part of it anymore.

The following days consisted of what you’d come to consider a rather comfortable routine based on sleeping, eating, pretending to watch TV while you stalked his social media, and crying. 

The third day after he’d left, he posted a picture with his new lover, along with the caption “Love you forever x” and you chuckled bitterly.

He didn’t even have the decency to wait a little longer.

In all honesty, you felt humiliation. You’d been avoiding the mirror lately, well aware of how red your eyes and nose would be, and how puffy your face would be, and how evident the bags under your eyes would be. How did you let something like this happen? You didn’t want to feel like this, especially about a relationship ending, but you couldn’t help the way your heart seemed to be stuck in a permanent ache. And now, your mutual friends would learn about your break-up like this, and about the affair, too. How embarrassing.

Not even 10 minutes after the post had been made, your phone was bombarded with notifications, texts, and calls. What had happened? Did you break up? Did he cheat? Who is she? How long had it been since you broke up? Why weren’t they the first to know about this?

After a couple minutes of ongoing nagging, they finally ceased. 

And an hour or so after that, a single notification made your phone’s screen light up.

“Hey. Are you home?”

It was a text from your best friend, Fuyuhiko, and even though your chest had been aching endlessly for the last week or so, a warmth suddenly enveloped your heart comfortingly, and though you couldn’t bring yourself to actually smile, internally, you did.

“Yeah.” You quickly texted back, and set the phone down on the nightstand beside your bed, getting up and quickly heading to the bathroom, knowing he’d most likely be there in a minute.

Still avoiding the mirrors, you brushed your teeth and washed your face, and just as you were finishing up with drying your face, you heard the door open and then close.

“Still got that key I gave you, I see,” You said from the bathroom, and you thought he’d at least chuckle in response, but all there was was silence.

The footsteps could be heard approaching the end of the hallway, and soon, you met Fuyuhiko’s face, painted with concern, and a small tint of that seemingly always present anger in him.

“Where is that bastard?” He asked, and you sighed, shaking your head and forcing a small smile for him to see.

“Yeah, I’m fine, Fuyuhiko, thanks for asking. I appreciate your concern,” You said sarcastically, and in a different situation, your sarcasm would’ve made him roll his eyes, but they stayed fixed on yours, determined gaze only being intensified by blonde, thick furrowing brows.

Sighing once again, this time in defeat, you walked away from him, and to your bedroom, trust falling onto your mattress, and Fuyuhiko’s gaze followed you, waiting patiently for you to respond.

“I don’t know,” You began, and his gaze softened as he walked closer until he found himself sitting on the edge of your bed, a hand resting on his lap and the other resting on the mattress for support. “He simply packed and left. Said something about putting his happiness first.” Fuyuhiko clicked his tongue and scooted closer to you, index and thumb finding a place under your chin and tilting your face slightly, making you look at him.

“Bastard knows close to fucking nothin’ if he thinks he’ll ever be happy with anyone that isn’t you. As if he could replace you with some slag,” His expression hardened and you could only try to figure out what was going on in his mind the second he looked away from you and fixed his gaze on the blank wall, little habit of his you’d found about shortly after meeting. He always did this when he was deep in thought, and knowing him, for the most part, his thoughts were no good. Especially when he looked so angry, like right now.

“I could bust the fucker’s kneecaps if you want me to, you know,” He blurted out, and you sat up immediately, eyes wide and looking into his perfectly calm and serious looking eyes, no trace of a possible joke.

“Fuyuhiko, no,” You warned him, mirroring the furrowed brows and intense gaze he had shown you before, and he returned it.

“What? Why not? He’s an asshole and the only person who’d miss him is the bitch he stuffs his cock into!” He argued, and you felt your heart ache at the statement, tears pooling in the corners of your eyes, ready to spill. “Wait, shit, I didn’t- That’s not- Fuck!” Fuyuhiko yelled, running his fingers through his hair in exasperation and looking away, his cheeks red from embarrassment.

You shook your head and took his hand in yours, showing him a small smile as tears streamed down your face. “It’s okay, Fuyuhiko, I know you didn’t mean it that way,” You explained, and the blonde felt his heart jump in his chest, not knowing if it was cause of the way you suddenly took his hand, or because of how easily you understood him, and the way he sucked at expressing himself. After all, that’s what got him falling so hard for you in the first place, and what had him so displeased when you started going out with that cheating, good for nothing, worthless bastard. He knew you were too good for him, too kind and caring and understanding, and, to him at least, it truly felt like no one realized just how good you were, and how undeserving of you they were. The only one who could notice was him, therefore making him the only one worthy of your love. He was the only one who understood how good you were, and the only one who understood exactly how much you deserved, and it certainly was a lot more than he ever gave you during the time you were together.

“I don’t want you hurting him,” You explained, and he huffed, holding back from saying anything, but still giving you a look that said he still wanted to do it. In return though, you showed him a pleading look, and he turned away.

“Fine, I guess, but I can’t promise I won’t end him if he ever tries to come near you,” He said, and you rolled your eyes.

“Good,” You said. “With that out of the way, are you busy today?” You asked, and Fuyuhiko cocked a brow, humming questioningly. “You know, since you came over… I thought we could spend the day together. Being with you never fails to cheer me up,”

Fuyuhiko smirked and crossed his arms. “Yeah, no shit. I was gonna be busy, but it’s not like it can’t wait,” He said, and you beamed at him, rapidly lunging at him and pinning him down on the bed with your weight, letting small giggles escape your lips.

Ultimately, Fuyuhiko and you spent the weekend together, and it turned out pretty great if you’re being fully honest. You can’t just lie and say that in all that time you were together there was not a single second that you didn’t feel sad or think about him, after all, that was the main reason he was spending the weekend with you, or so you thought, but as it turns out, he actually did help you cheer up, a lot more than you had initially thought he could. The blonde noticed this too. It seemed like all you needed was someone to be there with you to help keep you distracted and entertained, instead of thinking about what he could possibly be doing, or if he was thinking of you, or what you did that was so wrong that it ended up driving him away.

The little distractions Fuyuhiko kept you busy with made time fly by and sadly, the weekend was gone in the blink of an eye, and your best friend would have to go take care of whatever he had postponed to spend time with you. “Hey, cut it with that pouty shit, you look too cute for your own good,” He said with a smirk, his hand resting on the top of your head, flattening the messy hair.

“You’ll be back soon, right?” You asked, looking at him like a pleading puppy, and he chuckled softly, ruffling your hair.

“Of course I will be, I just need to take care of something real quick, and I’ll be with you again,” Your lips curled up into a small smile at his words, and you stepped forward to hug him goodbye, pecking his cheek and pulling away to walk back inside, still waving until the door was fully closed. Despite missing him already, you sighed happily. It’d been a good weekend.

And as the Ultimate Yakuza was driven back home, a certain young man awaited, tied up and blindfolded in a basement, and his lover right next to him. 

The door creaked as it opened, and the couple visibly tensed up, chest puffing, back arching, and shoulders rolling back. 

The blonde smirked, walking over to the wooden table in the corner of the room, with a golden phonograph patiently waiting to play. He positioned the needle over the record, and music flooded the room, invading their ears.

“What do you think of the music?” Fuyuhiko asked, perfectly knowing that your ex-boyfriend would recognize his voice.

“F-Fuyuhiko?” He asked in a shaky voice, and the blonde hummed in response. “H-hey, man, y-you know you don’t gotta do this, right? I thought you liked y/n anyways! A-a-and now, she’s all free! She’s single and you can finally make your move! Shouldn’t you be happy? There’s no need to do this!”

“I really like this song,” Fuyuhiko commented, ignoring the guy’s attempt at persuasion. “It seems to fit your situation, don’t you think?”

It was only then that the pair took the time to analyze the music, and it’s lyrics, which had just started right after Fuyuhiko’s comment.

Johnny, don’t leave me

You said you’d love me forever

Honey, believe me

I’ll have your heart on a platter

The blonde’s smirk only grew as he watched the couple start to shake and cry, and he looked at the big man standing patiently next to the door, and giving him a nod, which the man imitated in response.

The man took a sledgehammer in his hands, and dragged it against the floor, the noise provoking sobs to escape from the restrained. 

“Please, please don’t-- Don’t do this, I’m begging you, I’ll--” The female’s cries were cut short by the sledgehammer slamming down on her knee, ripping a sharp cry from her throat.

Might you recall, we’ve got a small family business

And the family won’t like this

They’ll bust your kneecaps, ooh~

Fuyuhiko left the room, still able to hear the crying and screaming. Pleased with another job well done, and his hands went straight to his pockets, searching for his phone.

You heard your door open and close, and footsteps approaching your bedroom, right at the very end of the hallway, and when you turned away from the TV to the door, you saw your best friend, Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu, Ultimate Yakuza.

A bright smile appeared on your face, and you jumped off the bed, running to him and jumping on him, your legs wrapping around his waist, and your arms around his torso.

“I see you missed me,” He said, and you rolled your eyes, nodding.

“Come on, now, I wanna watch a movie,” You said as you got off of him, taking his hand in yours and guiding him to your bed. 

“What movie?” He asked, kicking off his slippers and taking off his jacket. 

You answered with a shrug and settled comfortable next to him, resting your head on his chest, his arm moving to rest over your shoulder.

“I hope I didn’t make you rush to get done whatever you had to do,” You said, looking away from the TV and up at him. He looked down and looked into your eyes, shaking his head.

“Nah, it’s fine. Don’t worry your pretty little head with things like that,” He said, and you nodded, turning your attention back to the TV.