#his left arm is actually supposed to be higher and move the mask toward and away from his face

[ofbeautsandbeasts]

After learning about the existence of these vintage Telco Motion-ettes earlier this year, I was able to snag one for $92 (including shipping) from eBay this month! He's missing the white mask in his left hand, so I gave him a little violin to hold. Maybe I'll make a replacement mask for him to hold in the future 🎭

Aahhh, I'm just so happy I was able to get one without breaking the bank! 🎉 (For clarification, it doesn't play any music, but it does make a little whirring noise 😊)

[korpuskat]

Spectrum

[Ao3 Mirror] Pairing: Ramattra/Reader Rating: Mature (sexual content referenced, but not explicit) WC: 2,918 Warnings: None Sequel to In A Different Light -----

The lackey behind the counter hardly looks up, barely says anything as they pass you the repair request forms. It's fine, you get it. Menial labor, repetitive office bullshit, dealing with the guys who walk their mechs into walls when training while trying to avoid the higher-ups gaze. Normal Talon stuff. This is perfectly true until he asks you what floor of the barracks you're on, what wing.

And suddenly the lady behind him perks up. She doesn't even try to hide how she looks you over, making some unspoken assessment, then grins and returns to her tablet.

The barely suppressed smile infects his voice with excitement. "Don't suppose you're in 1813, are you?"

Oh. Fuck. "Yeah, I am."

"Kinda wondering when you'd make it down here." He says, typing in your information. "If you would."

You shouldn't say anything. You really, really shouldn't.

"Why wouldn't I?"

"Oh, you know." He grins at you, fucking winks like you're in on the joke. "There was a pool if you'd be here or the infirmary first."

The infirmary? Why would you- actually, he did break your bed and leave a hole in your wall and you have had this peculiar ache behind your belly button and you definitely have huge purple splotches over your hips where he'd grabbed you, so, okay, that's fair.

"I guess you won then." Is the light-lipped answer you come up with, unsure how to explain that you really don't want to be part of this conversation anymore. Please, just fix your bed and wall. Gossip when you're not around.

The guy opens his mouth- and you feel it before his expression changes. A cool wind brushes against the back of your neck, down your spine, over the backs of your arms. Sickly, somehow, like the air itself clings to you, crawls on you. Everyone behind the counter looks away. His joy is gone, but the fear is carefully masked. "Reason for repairs?"

Behind you, boots stomp by. He doesn't leave, from the sound, from the way nobody exhales. You don't look, keep your eyes trained on the counter, on a little fleck where the linoleum is peeling away. He's somewhere in a corner, waiting for something. "Accident."

The lackey visibly cringes. Suddenly he, too, doesn't want to be in this conversation. "Gotta be more specific."

Fucker. Your voice is barely restrained as you bite out, "Sparring accident."

Behind you, the Reaper snorts.

When Ramattra returns to your base, perhaps only two weeks later, you really expect him to just proceed as business as usual. Like nothing had happened; he'd sated his curiosity, you're off his radar. Figuratively. You do not, under any circumstances, expect to be pulled off regular duties to be part of his temporary squadron.

It's a formality. He doesn't need one. He's here to inspect an airship, to discuss modifications to be made before it goes into mass production.

With an irritated sigh and wave of his hand, he summarily dismisses the entire squadron as soon as he sees them waiting in the hangar. The rest leave. You should join them. It's so... presumptuous, to think he thinks about you, that he even remembers you. He's leading a revolution for his people and you're a grunt he fucked once. But your boots may as well have been glued to the floor, no matter how much you want to scream at yourself to move, to turn away, you can't.

And his gaze settles on you.

And he nods towards the airship's ramp.

You follow behind him.

It's the first time you watch him leave. Every time before- three, now, not that you're counting- he's quietly departed your quarters. After making sure you're well cared for. That part had always confused you- left your chest aching in a way completely different than your hips.

But this time, you're not left alone in your mattress working up the courage to go file a repair request again. No, as part of his squadron you get to see him off this time. It's all a show, Ramattra had complained about it before- serves nothing but to boost their little human egos. He wasn't wrong, there's no need for you to be here. In fact, you really don't want to be here.

You've never seen Doomfist in person, but he personally escorts Ramattra to his shuttle. He speaks confidently, but quietly enough you can't make out what he's saying, even as he gestures broadly with his cybernetic arm. Even seeing him content makes your stomach flip uneasily, not wanting to be around if something does go wrong.

Ramattra... looks different. It's hard to believe how quickly you've become used to seeing him relaxed. Not just when he's moving in you- no, even when he sits with you, walks about the base, he never looks like this anymore. All seriousness and focused, the weight of the world back on his shoulders.

They speak a moment more, then Ramattra bows his head and turns towards his ship. He stops-

and across the launch bay, Ramattra's faceplate turns towards you. He pauses. Says nothing, hardly moves- but you know. He's looking directly at you. You stare back, unsure why you have his attention now- and ever so slightly his head dips. A tiny nod goodbye, just for you.

Your chest aches.

You smile slightly and nod back- and he's gone, entering his ship and flying away.

You don’t know who finally made the call to assign Ramattra temporary quarters at your base, but you would love to have seen that conversation. Because Ramattra’s voice is perfectly neutral as he comments that his quarters had not only a heavy duty, solid steel bed frame to support his weight- nevermind that he doesn’t sleep- but also reinforced walls.

They knew, of course. But the fact that someone high up enough knew to make the recommendation is what really gets you. Because nobody has said anything to you. Maybe they’re smart enough to- you doubt Ramattra would be particularly pleased with you being public knowledge.

And, well, not saying anything has ended up being your approach with Ramattra so far, too. Despite the frequency that he’d return to your doorway (and now you to his), or the repeated repair requests and occasional trips to medical and skeptical looks in return, you’d never explicitly asked what was going on. What exactly you were to him.

And normally that would be fine! Soldier’s bond or whatever, some bullshit to say “logistically and emotionally easiest lay.” It’s common enough. But you’ve never laid in a squadmate’s bed hours after, never dozed lightly in someone else’s blankets as they work at the desk a foot away- and never felt that perhaps that was still too far from you.

It’s the latter right now that sits heavy on your chest.

You shift beneath his sheets- a silky, deep purple that ripples with every moment. You watch, silent, as he turns some kind of device in his hands, taps it occasionally with an electric soldering iron. You sit up slowly, lean into his pillows. Even the pillowcases match. Probably actual silk knowing Talon’s propensity to keep their board members happy. Fuckers. He doesn’t even meditate on the bed.

“Ramattra,” The question bubbles out of you before you can stop it. “Can I… kiss you?”

He stills. But here, you must acknowledge how close you’ve gotten- because you can tell. Where someone else may feel that pang of fear, that his quiet is a wind-up to rage or impatience or condescension, no, you can read his shoulders perfectly. He’s genuinely contemplating the request.

He looks to you, and he doesn’t need a face for you to feel the incredulity in his voice. “You do understand I do not possess a mouth, correct?”

“I know.” You stand and sweep one thin blanket with you as you move to him. And here- he turns away from his project, sets his iron down, opens his arms for you. When you settle into his lap, he supports you- and when you reach for his face, his jaw, he lowers his head into your touch. You sweep a thumb across the lowest part of the white composite, feel the little crease between it and the purple of his jaw plate. “But I could still kiss you..”

His whole face rumbles into your palm as he hums, considering this. “Alright, though I do not understand what you would gain from this.”

And that is a lie, though you’re not sure who it’s for. It’s fine though, you don’t call him on it. Instead, you guide his head down as you stretch up- until your breath ghosts against him, leaving little puffs of foggy condensation. And you kiss him. Right across the seam between his plates, your lips squishing into the gap, flattening against his metal.

And it would be like kissing a training bot, all cold, motionless metal against your lips- and that must be what he expects you to feel, his disbelief you’d get anything from this. It would be, except for everything else about him. His hands come up to the curve of your spine, to the back of your head, cradling you so gently- and even with such a small display, his fans kick up, a quiet hum purring a hair louder from his chest. Without a mouth, he’s hardly unaffected- and against his faceplate you smile and pull away. His optics cannot, by design, be half-lidded and glazed, but you think they would be if they could.

“Did that… satisfy you?” He rumbles lowly.

“For now.” You grin and tuck yourself deeper into his lap. When he realizes you have no intention of returning to his bed, he makes a show of sighing and adjusting the stolen blanket so you’re well-wrapped and all the ends are tucked safely away before he returns to his work.

"Can I ask you a question?" You murmur, eyes still closed. He's foregone the blanket this time, holding you right up against his chest; you had curled up with him so quickly he hasn't even had time to put his paneling back on. The spars of his ribs are a little uncomfortable, but he's still so warm that you can't complain.

"Of course." His systems have already refreshed, perfectly capable of going on with his day. Unlike you, you're still wavering and floaty and in need of a shower. He's used to it. Being able to hold you afterwards is... enjoyable. He allows himself to trace shapes over your skin. He had noticed, once, how you smile softly when he does it.

"It's personal."

Ramattra's head shifts, looks down at you slightly. He's told you about himself. About the times before he was himself, about the Shambali, about the slave shops he's destroyed, about London. About Lanet. What could you possibly ask that you felt the need to warn him about first? "Go on."

"Who did you make your dick for?" Oh. He shifts awkwardly, ceases the motions of his hands. When he doesn't answer you continue, "You told me you didn't make it for humans, so, I dunno. Was just curious."

It takes several moments before he can manage to put together a stilted "Does it matter?"

You hum softly and lean back against him. "No." You swap the places of your hand with his, sweeping your thumb across the purple plating. You really didn't want to upset him- the likelihood his previous relationships have ended particularly badly is ridiculously high. "It's okay, you don't have to tell me about your exes. Like I said, just curious."

Ramattra has never quite understood the desire to grimace until now. It's not important, and yet... that annoying little whisper has returned to his circuits, prodding at his runtimes until he's forcing the words through his synth. "I don't... have any... 'exes'."

This makes the gears turn in your head. There's no way. "Like... you just didn't stay with any of them?" Even as hectic as his life has been, you cannot reconcile how tenderly he's holding you with him previously being a smash and dasher. It would make sense logistically- no danger of loss or being tied down and losing focus on his work, but… there’s just no way.

"No." He all but squirms. "I never used it before you."

"What?"

"I designed it for..." His voice cuts out as his vocoder fights him again. "...a particular omnic. To their model's... specifications. But I never used it."

You twist around in his arms, as much as he'd prefer you didn't. It's uncomfortable enough without having to see your face, without his still-not-put-away dick pressed between your bodies. "But... you told me you'd fucked before."

Around you, Ramattra bristles, his fans ramping up, his hands firming where they touch you. Too far, you did upset him. "Omnics do not need things as crude as genitals to be intimate."

The pieces come together. Not an ex, they'd been intimate, enough that he'd designed a dick just to hope, but never used it. He wanted more. You slide a hand around Ramattra's neck, over the dark plating his cowl usually hides. Normally, when you slide your fingers around the chunky cables of his mane, he'll purr or at least relax- no such luck. "Sorry," You murmur, and trace a finger along the long line of his jaw piece. "Thank you for telling me."

It takes a few moments, but eventually a soft stream of hot air slips from Ramattra's vents and he sighs. You take the cue and curl up close to him, wrapping your arms around him as best you can with his wide chest. When you think he's calmed enough, you do tack on one last comment. "I am glad you made it, though."

Thankfully, Ramattra laughs softly at that.

Ramattra holds white papers in his hand, carefully held between the rubber pads there, delicate as to not crease them before you can read them. His other hand twitches as his side, then balls into a fist. He does not meet your gaze when he enters his room. He stands there, just past the doorway, clenching and unclenching his fist, his fans slowly amping up.

"Rama?" You prompt him when he still doesn’t say anything, already scooting to the edge of his bed.

"I have to attend to the construction of a titan in person." It's flat, a statement, no particular inflection in his voice where you're clearly expecting something else. "I won't be able to return here for several weeks. At minimum."

Now it's you who looks away. It's a disappointment. You knew it was coming, three days together was already an incredible luxury. "Ah, I see." He's busy, you know this. Lots of hard work running an entire revolution almost by yourself. And you can't fault him for it- can't ask him to postpone. It's important work. "When will you have to leave?"

"Five hours. I'm also chartering transport of supplies. My omnium is short on copper wire, of all things." He says- and his focus shifts from the floor to the paper in his hands. He rubs it, watches as the paper flexes and bends, then returns to normal. You, too, observe his fidgeting and wait for the shoe to drop. You've always kind of waited for it.

"Are you- " He starts- and his synth immediately fizzles. The hand at his side tightens in frustration as he reboots it. "Are you pleased with... this?" The paper flops in his hand as he gestures vaguely between you.

This.

Never did have that conversation.

You bite your tongue, chance looking at him. None of the strain in his vocoder has made it to his faceplate, forever stuck in that passive, almost angry expression. "Yeah." If he wants to kick you out, that's fine, but you aren't going to lie about it. His visits to your base have easily become the best part of your job, the occasional message of where he is, of when he can make it back to you- it's completely different than anything you've had before. "Yeah, actually."

Ramattra's shoulders drop. "You are sure? Genuinely?"

You nod. And he holds out the paper. You don't even unfold it before he's explaining. "It's a reassignment order. Production of Null Troopers is increasing geometrically; ideally I would oversee all production lines directly from here on. It would be... advantageous to have someone else coordinate with Talon on my behalf while I am engaged with this.

"I will be very occupied. This is a critical period of staging. And I would be relying on you." Ramattra says, and there's a sternness laid over top. He wants it to sound like a job offer, to sound serious. It is, to some degree. But more than that-

"You..." The top of the paper is printed with Talon's logo, a big block of text follows, beneath is a signature line. Your eyes skim the page again- and read the most important line. Relocate to meet the needs of Null Sector. "You want me to come with you?"

A breath of silence takes the room, until he steps closer and takes one of your hands in his. So gently, he drags the rubber pad of his thumb over your knuckles. His faceplate focuses there, on the delicate bones of your hand, your wrist. "It would... please me greatly to keep you near."

The ache in your chest blooms out, spills over your cheeks.

[xohachi]

illuminate

| sherlock holmes x u |

word count: 966

u have a date tonight! ur actually on the date for the first half of the story and sherlock’s brooding about it so badly that he can’t sleep :( BUT u come back sad 😧 so he comforts u ☺️. {angst/comfort/cute ending} {this is for the girls w no dad.}

(LOOK AT HIS PUPPY DOG EYES I WANNA CRYYYYYY) (i hate writing stories in my notes app but I watched American beauty last night and that “you could never be ordinary,” scene literally ate me so i just haddd to write something based off it. so enjoy this blurb i wrote first thing in the morning at a sleepover)

The mundane tick of the clock nearly lulled Sherlock to sleep. He persevered through the heavy bricks on his eyelids, pacing the room thinking of you. The time now was 12:34am. You’d left for a date at around 8, you never went on dates. Sherlock preferred it that way, maybe then he’d get some sleep. He thought of you, the image of you in your little black dress and red heels… the way you styled your hair and left a few dangling curls to frame your already perfect face. The stubborn detective would never say it but it enraged him to see you dressed up like this for another man.

…

“How do I look?” You asked sheepishly. He watched your eyes meet his, inhaling the presence of your soul snaking its way into the void where his was supposed to be. Somehow during the time that the two of you had roomed together at 221B Baker St, Sherlock had fallen in love with you and he hated the fact that he didn’t hate it.

“You’re leaving?” His tone was low, monotonous.

“Yeah silly, I happen to have a date tonight.” You gave him a spin. His eyes locked onto the slit in your already short dress and how it hiked up even higher when you moved. A scowl snuck onto his face as he thought about you dancing with lesser men at sub par bars, the way they’d probably slide a hand down your back, itching for an invitation to taint you with their touch.

…

‘A date,’ He muttered to himself. A cigarette sat between his lips. Sherlock leaned onto the fireplace and pulled his head back as he exhaled. Finally, your footsteps echoed up the stairs. He put out his cigarette and scrambled to find a place in his chair. Quickly picking up his violin, fumbling with the tuning to look busy. You’d left the house wearing heels yet your footsteps showed no indication of heels on your feet. You’d probably taken them off after too much dancing & the thought brought a red jealous haze back into his mind but he decided to let it go. Your dark silhouette emerged from the shadows. Something was wrong. He quickly scanned you with his eyes. Messy hair, your left dress strap sliding down your shoulder, your hand on your right shoulder seemingly massaging a bothering ache, perhaps from carrying your purse. Turning around, a yelp emerged from your throat.

“Sorry,” You choked out, trying to mask your sobs, “I didn’t mean to interrupt.” You glanced down at the violin in his hands, yet his attention was solely on you. Sherlock’s eyebrow was cocked as he continued to silently read your tells. Shaky voice, running mascara, you’d been crying. Your arms were hugging your body, you’d been hurt. He stood up cautiously.

“He hurt you…” Sherlock concluded aloud, inching closer. His hands were somewhat extended towards you as if he wanted to touch you but couldn’t.

“No, Sherlock he didn’t, I’m alright.” You closed the space between the two of you. The sudden feeling of your small hands on his chest electrified him yet also diminished a fraction of his anger. Physically sure, you seemed to be okay. Sherlock realized that you were hugging your body to console deep emotional pain. Physical or emotional didn’t matter to him though, all that mattered was that you were in pain.

“You’re crying. He made you cry, I’ll murder him.” His rough calloused hands cupped either side of your face, his words venomous with intent. Maybe it was the sleep deprivation but Sherlock had never allowed himself to touch you like this. The most touch you shared was when he’d let you rest your head on his shoulder during long train rides, even then he felt like he was playing with fire.

“He was good to me, I promise,” a small silence, “I did this to myself, with my own insecurities.”

“Am I… ordinary, Sherlock?”

The streetlights trickled through the curtains, illuminating the silhouette of you both holding back from indulging in your deepest desires. The image of you, gazing up at the cold detective with wide teary eyes, clinging to his word like he’s god reciting the bible directly to you. Him, his hands on either sides of your face, soothing you with his words, “You could never be ordinary, not even if you tried.”

Although your crying had ceased, his words broke the dam behind your y/e/c eyes. Your head fell into his chest and the sudden intimacy caused Sherlock tense up. He could feel you needing him, begging him to hold you just this once, to tell you that everything will be okay…and that he loves you so. He opened his mouth to protest the hug, only to be cut off by a small, “Please, just this once,” whispered into his chest.

Frozen in time, the gears in his brain began to short circuit. He was a sociopath, how could he feel like this? The two of you were never even meant to get this close. He could feel his defenses crumble. Every alarm inside his mind palace blaring. Emergency! Emergency! The void where his soul should lie was no longer empty. You’d fought your way past his defenses, seemingly effortlessly. He lived and breathed you. He burned for you, and only you. Your soul igniting him, Sherlock finally allowed himself to wrap his arms around your small figure tightly. His chin resting atop your head. He wouldn’t admit any of this aloud. As a matter of fact, he wouldn’t say anything at all. This was enough for now, he’d just be here, with you, for you, in the moment.

[boots-with-the-fur-club]

Chapter 3 of These Are Not Our Masks!

@daboyau

@that-0n3-shr00mi3-guy

@iobsesswaytoomuch

@sady-is-secretly-an-alchemist

@dluebirb

Raph and Leo snap back to attention at Draxum’s voice and arrival. He stands in front of a still open and glowing portal and has a look of pure disappointment on his face.

“You were supposed to collect your brothers and eliminate everyone else who stood in your way. Are you disobeying my orders!?”

Mikey holds onto Raph protectively.

“Yes they are! And nobody is going back with you!”

Draxum rolls his eyes.

“I should have made you all have some level of higher intelligence instead of putting it all in the purple one. This is not a situation where any of you have a choice.” His hand glows as he holds it out towards Raph and Leo.

The two of them scream out and hold onto their faces in pain.

Splinter steals one of Leo’s katanas and strikes at Draxum.

“You can not have them!

Draxum dodges.

“You fool, they were mine from the start! Now listen to my commands! Artemis! Atlas!”

Raph and Leo revert to their earlier behavior and go after both Mikey and Donnie.

“S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N! Release the nets!” Donnie commands.

“Here they come!” S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. shoots them out, getting both brothers caught and put to the floor.

They claw and thrash around which makes it clear the nets will not hold them for long. Another plan is needed, and fast.

“It’s a marvel what you’ve done with your limited resources. I’m sure you’ll make something better than this trash under my command.” Draxum waves his hand again.

Vines shoot up and around Donnie, completely surrounding him. A mask is held by several of them while others grab Donnie’s arms and legs.

The mask is smaller than the others, only being enough to cover his eyes. It’s metallic purple all across. There’s a goggle over one eyehole with two screws next to it’s top and bottom. The other side of the mask has gears and a geometric pattern around the eyehole.

If Donnie wasn’t in so much danger and didn’t know who it was from, he might actually be impressed.

He struggles heavily, also trying to bite the vines.

Splinter turns to help him but gets stopped by Draxum who he continues to fight with. Mikey pulls at the vines as much as he can. Every one he gets rid of has another pop up in its place.

“Donnie! BOOYAKASHA!” S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. gives out a battle cry and starts mowing down the vines.

Draxum notices while continuing his fight and moves some vines to grab the drone. He tears him to pieces, S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N’s head dropping to the floor.

Donnie’s eyes widen as his heart absolutely shatters alongside his robotic son.

“No! S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N! I’m going to turn you into lamb chops, do you hear me Draxum!?”

“Save that attitude for humanity.”

The vines with the mask slams it onto Donnie’s face.

Everything starts falling apart almost immediately afterwards.

Raph and Leo escape their nets, barreling towards Mikey since he’s the only one left without a mask.

Donnie is finally released from the vines.

That proves to be a mistake.

His fingers twitch unnaturally as he types, but he still manages to use his wrist device. Lasers start firing all over the place from different directions.

Leo gets distracted from chasing the lights, Mikey vaguely remembers when they were little and that worked on him.

Raph gets distracted trying to stop Leo from burning himself.

Mikey grabs at Donnie’s hand and attempts to get him to safety.

Donnie doesn’t move any inch.

“Leave me. Don’t go anywhere obvious. Warn April before she gets here. I’m destroying my controls for the tank. Go.”

Mikey tears up and shakes his head.

“No! I’m not-!”

Donnie slaps Mikey across the face, leaving him completely shocked and with scratch marks on his cheek.

“Did I ask you!? Do you know how hard it is to even be talking to you!? Get father and leave! Leave! LEAVE!”

Mikey runs and grabs his father’s hand instead, pulling him along as they run.

“Purple! Red! Blue! No! I will save you from this! I swear!” Splinter insists.

“What are you doing!? You’re letting them get away! Do as I say, Artemis, Apollo, Atlas!” Draxum orders.

Donnie suddenly appears next to him, having moved so fast the sheepman could hardly react in time. The wrist device is grabbed and smashed against his face as hard as possible.

Draxum shouts and reels back in pain.

Donnie tackles him, scratching and biting relentlessly.

“Artemis! Atlas! Get him off me!“

Raph and Leo move back over. Raph wraps both arms around Donnie tightly, lifting him off the ground.

Leo cackles.

It’s unsure if it’s at Draxum or Donnie.

Draxum stands up and glares down at the snapping soft shell.

“How are you able to resist my commands this much?”

Donnie spits at him.

“How should I know why your shoddy work isn’t functional!? I’ll tear you into pieces-“

“Now I remember, you didn’t steal one of my weapons. You aren’t attuned to mystic energy like my other creations. I’ll just have to imbue more of my energy in your mask. A simple solution that will also serve as your punishment.” Draxum places his hand on the mask.

Donnie’s throat hurts from how loud he screams.

Draxum smiles.

Donnie eventually goes limp, head only held up by Draxum’s hand. It falls down when he moves it away.

“Atlas, release him.”

Raph let’s go.

Donnie fails to his knees.

“Apollo, are you ready to be of use now?” Draxum questions.

Donnie lifts his head.

“Yes, Baron Draxum.”

Draxum smiles widely.

“Then it’s time you fulfill your purpose.”

Splinter portaled himself and Mikey into the tank then tossed the katana outside the hatch. It probably has some kind of a tracker, knowing Draxum.

He closes the hatch and gets into the driver’s seat. His heart aches as he knows he’s taking Raph’s place, but he presses the button to open the garage door and speeds the tank out of there.

Mikey silently sobs while sitting in his seat. Donnie might have hurt him, but he was doing it to get him to just listen and go. Maybe if he had just done that Donnie wouldn’t have anything to feel bad about later.

Splinter drives so fast that he barely has time to stop when they see April about to open a manhole.

Mikey very quickly hops out and pulls her in before Splinter speeds off again. He clings to her as much as he can, soaking her shirt with his tears. April squeezes him and decides to ignore the fact that she’s going to need a new shirt.

“What happened? Donnie texted SOS! Why isn’t he here!? Wait, why aren’t Leo and Raph here either!?”

Splinter grips the arms of the chair tightly.

“They’ve all been taken and forced to work under Draxum.”

April’s face pales.

“They’re….no way….Mikey’s the only one left?”

Splinter nods solemnly.

“I’m afraid so. Donatello warned us not to go anywhere obvious. They will look for us at your home. I know somewhere else we can go.”

“And that is?”

“LEMONADE! Todd’s special lemonade for my gue-! Oh no! What happened to you!?” Todd sets the tray with cups and pitcher down on his table and rushes over to Mikey and April.

Mikey sniffles and let’s go of April just to open up his arms to Todd.

Todd whistles and an army of puppies come running to tackle Mikey to the ground. They lick at his face, taking away any tears on it. He moves his head a bit so they don’t lick his scratch.

“Thanks Todd, I really needed this.”

“Of course! Anything for my best friend! But I could help a lot more if I knew what happened!”

Mikey sadly tells the entire story, fully filling everyone present in.

April and Splinter look even more terrified. Neither of them knew exactly how bad it had gotten. Now they’re aware that might be entirely screwed.

“Donnie did that to you….?”

“H-He wouldn’t have done it if he could help it. Even with how hard it was to talk, he wanted me to remember to warn you, April.”

She feels a little choked up that Donnie used some of his last bits of sanity to worry about her. April rejected hanging out with them today in favor of spending some time relaxing with Mayhem. If she had been there, she could have done something.

No, no time to think about that. She’s here now and her pseudo brothers need her.

“We need a plan! We can’t just let Draxum use them like puppets! Splints, what are our options?”

“If this is what I believe it to be….then I am not sure….but I do know where I can get some information. That auction house must have some of my family scrolls since they continue to sell things from my time as Lou Jitsu.”

“Then we go looking! There’s no time to waste!”

“Y-Yeah, let’s go!” Mikey tries to sit up.

April gently pushes him back into the puppy pile.

“Sorry buddy. It’s better for you to be here where they won’t find you. Todd will protect you, right Todd?”

Todd rips off his shirt and shows off a surprisingly good physique.

“Nothing will get to my pal while I’m here!”

“Okay, I wasn’t expecting all that, but my point is proven.”

“But I want to help! Leo and Donnie….they both made sure I wasn’t taken….I have to repay the favor by helping fix them!” Mikey whines.

Splinter kneels down next to him and strokes his non hurt cheek.

“My son, you can repay the favor by staying safe like they wanted. If Draxum gets you as well, it’s truly over.”

Mikey leans into his dad’s hand and sighs.

“Okay….I’ll stay. Both of you be extra careful!”

“You’ve got it. We’ll be back!” April heads into the tank again.

Splinter kisses Mikey’s forehead and follows after her. The tank speeds off quickly.

Mikey sighs.

“Don’t be sad, friend. Let me get you patched up, then you can have some lemonade and we can cook together and play with the puppies! Doesn’t that sound fun?” Todd holds out his hand.

Mikey takes it, smiling softly.

“Yeah….it does. It would just be a lot more fun with my brothers.”

Todd helps him up and leads him to the first aid area of the puppy park.

“You can always come back with them after they’re okay again!”

“You’re right. And they will be okay again!”

“That’s the spirit! Do you want a Dalmatian or Golden Retriever bandaid?”

“Dalmatian please.”

April sits in Donnie’s seat as Splinter once again drives the tank.

“So….you said reaching out to them helps a little?”

“Not enough, but yes. Perhaps if they could stay away from Draxum for longer. It wouldn’t be an easy task.”

April thinks for a second.

“If Draxum wants the guys to rule the world for him or something, Donnie would need more parts. He also can’t work fast if he’s distracted so any place he goes to has to be somewhere he can be alone. I bet he’d go to the Purple Dragon’s lair!”

“Please do not tell me that you want to try to find him there. You have seen what happened to Orange, and he told us what Red did to Blue. They aren’t themselves. He won’t forgive himself if he hurts you either.”

“I won’t give him the chance! Besides, I’ve known the guys for years. They’ve got weaknesses even they don’t know about but I do. If anyone is going to get Donnie back, it’s me.”

Splinter sighs.

“Then you want to split up?”

“Yeah! You drop me off and go head to the auction house. I’ll calm Donnie down enough for you to use whatever you find, then he can help us get the other guys back!”

“You’re sure about this?”

“Of course I am. You know I’d do anything for them.”

“Then let’s save our boys.”

After getting the address from April, Splinter changes course to the hideout.

He hopes he doesn’t regret it.

[grumpyascianteddybear]

Voidal Heart Chapter Two

Here is Chapter Two. There was supposed to be Smexy time, but neither of these bitches could decide whose point of view it was happening in. So now it's set for the next chapter.

@jedikitteh

Picking through ruins for useful artifacts was always a tedious endeavor. It was one that Elidibus preferred to delegate to someone else, but this was a delicate artifact. A sphere said to hold ancient wisdom. There was no known source of the artifact either. It had just been unearthed one-day eon ago by the people of the source. A strange orb that appeared to be some kind of crystal that held something lost to time. The last thing he needed was for Fandanial to find and destroy it.

A hum left him before he noticed a voice he knew in the distance. Blinking, he tilted his head and looked away from what he was doing. What was Emet doing here, and who was he talking to? The voice was deep and yet oddly feminine. Did he just call her Little One? Elidibus moved to meet them down the corridor. There was only one person that Selch called that. 

Turning a corner, he found them and stopped in his tracks. This woman did not match the memories stored in the ring from his great-something or other grandmother. Eyes narrowed beneath his mask at the way Emet smiled at her. He was in full father mode. It made the Emissary want to snarl at this imposter, but Emet had a gift that he did not. Well, that he didn’t have naturally. That was fine, though. It didn’t matter now that he could call on the abilities of every soul within Zodiark. 

His eyes glazed over as he went through the souls he was connected to. It didn’t take long for him to find one of the ones with soul sight and yoink the ability for a few minutes. Blinking, he looked at her with the borrowed sight, and his eyes widened. There was no missing the fact she was whole or the corruption. The swirling inky black almost hid the true color of her soul, but he caught it. A small swirl of crimson caused the Emissary to nearly fall to his knees.

She was whole this entire time? This entire time they had been looking for shards when she was unsundered on the 13th? At first, there was deep anguish, and then he felt the first spark of rage. It was not his, but it did not matter as it spread through the other souls like wildfire before spilling into him. His eyes closed as the molten fire filled him; all he could see was red.

“Selch! Who is responsible for this?” Elidibus asked as he stalked toward them. He focused on his father-in-law for the moment. If he looked at her, the anger would only become deeper. He could hear them, the souls screaming in his head. Outraged that his wife had fallen victim to the flood of darkness on the 13th. Elidibus was at a loss. They hadn’t found her. They had just left her there, alone and with no one, as they plunged the shard into a useless hunk of rock. 

“It would appear that her mother was able to secure a way for her to get through things unsundered.”

Harmonia? How had she managed that? It made his own anger spark, only renewing the cycle of anger, building it higher and higher. It clouded his mind and aether. He wanted retribution. For what, he wasn’t sure. It was hard actually to think through the rage. That became hard as his senses were assaulted as he felt lips press against his own. 

His first instinct was to push the offender away as his mind screamed over the souls, now starting to calm. His own anger even started to disappear? No, it was just being redirected by the only person that could get away with doing it. The offender who dared to touch him was the only person he had wished to have by his side again. As that realization hit him, his mind switched gears even through the pervading sense of being engulfed in sensory information.

Elidibus hummed as his arms wrapped around her. Hadianna had always known how to get his attention and now was no different. He had to look strange to her like this. Was there even anything left of the man she had held so dear? Would she leave him in the end because of that? 

“Themis, can we go somewhere else?”

Her voice was deeper now, yet that tone made him shiver slightly. He had not heard his actual name in so long that it sounded foreign to him. A hum left him as he thought about it. They did have a place for sleeping that was hidden carefully. Even they needed to rest at times, though Lahabrea hated it. They could go there, which would be better than here. He would have to ward one of the rooms for her to use anyway.

“We can.” Elidibus nodded. He cleared his throat, not sure why his voice sounded so strange. There was still something else that the anger had turned into. He wasn’t sure what it was, though. Something lost to Zodiark and the souls that grabbed for some purchase within his mind. 

He kept his arms around her as he teleported them to the hideaway. It was hidden on an uninhabited island in the sea that surrounded Vylbrand. The building had been created by Selch in the style of their home. Elidibus led her in and picked a room that was not being used. A hum left him as her name was soon seared into the door. 

“Themis, I don’t use that name anymore. I go by Belladonna now.”

Elidibus blinked before looking at her. She changed her name? Why would she do that? Did it matter in the end when they no longer used their true names anyway? There was a simple nod as he looked to the door, and the name was soon changed to the correct one. That would take some time, but it shouldn’t be terribly hard. His eyes fluttered as he felt her lips press to his cheek. 

“Thank you, you can still use the nickname you did before.”

Nickname? What nickname? Elidibus swallowed as he pressed his lips together. He didn’t remember, though it was likely in the memories he had stored in the ring—something he would have to look into later. Opening the door, he led her inside and let the door shut behind them. The room was plain, with a full bed and a simple end table. They didn’t keep much in the way of personal items. She might prefer to do so, though.

“This will be your room. You may personalize it any way you wish.” He stated. That husky tone was back again. As she stepped away to look over the room, he took the time to take her in. Hadi-Belladonna had a thick hourglass shape to her. The top she was wearing also did not cover much. The draping fabric just barely covered her nipples and left much of her skin uncovered. There was so much cleavage, and most of her back was also uncovered. It made his mouth run dry, and that feeling just got stronger. 

Elidibus swallowed as one of the souls whispered about her back being sensitive. When did his pants become so……oh……that was what this feeling was. He had been ignoring that or painfully getting himself off for eons. Now here she was, and he had no idea how to start things. Those memories had been lost before he could put them in the ring. Aaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

She could feel his eyes on her and looked back at him. Belladonna did not miss the panicked look in his blue hues. She was glad to see that the purple glow was gone now. Her tongue darted out to lick her lips as she looked him up and down. The robe hid a lot, but as a succubus, she could taste the emotions in the aether. His energy was massive, more than she could likely eat in any one sitting. She could also taste his arousal and the panic.

A soft and yet seductive smile tipped the corners of her mouth up. Belladonna felt her wings shudder in anticipation. The small taste she got from being close was enough to make her mouth water. She had lost count of how many voidsent she had eaten already, sucking souls down that did almost nothing to alleviate the hunger gnawed at her belly. Now, that was something she would no longer have to worry about.

“ I know what you want, Themis.” She purred and began to walk over to him. Before, she had prevented herself from feeding while kissing him. Her father had been there, and the last thing she wanted was for him to be caught in it. Arms circled his neck and tugged his hood down, revealing longer white hair than she remembered. That just meant there was more for her to tug on and play with. The next thing she removed was his crimson mask. 

His face was slightly different, but he wasn’t in his original body either. A hand cupped his cheek, and she noted as his breath seemed to sputter. Blue hues closed as he leaned into the touch, even as the rest of him stiffened. Belladonna wasn’t sure what to make of it. It certainly wasn’t something he had done before. “Are you okay?”

That got a humorless chuckle out of him that did nothing to make her feel better. As hungry as she was, she didn’t want to hurt him in some way by accident. He hadn’t pushed her away. In fact, she felt his arm wrap around her and pull her closer. It was something she would have expected from him before. Now she didn’t know what to expect as he seemed too different from before. 

“Okay, is relative; please don’t stop.”

His voice was so soft as he said it and full of a need that she understood all too well. They have been apart for so long. Naturally, they would want to get lost in each other. Belladonna leaned up and pressed her lips to his. She heard the hum as his other arm wrapped around her tightly. It was like he was clinging to her with every fiber of his being. It made her feel loved and important, but did he even know what those emotions meant anymore?

[ripperplague]

RO and Sam's reactions to finding the MC covered in blood, but it's off a patient on whom they were operating?

The MC would wear an apron but we'll take it as an emergency scenario.

You sigh and bunch your bloodied shirt in your equally drenched hands. The cloth sticks to your skin as the icky moisture spreads. You're used to the tang of blood and it's glorious but wasted labor to wash out. You check your reflection in the mirror and notice there's some on your neck and the left side of your face is adorned with it.

The sudden creak of the door has you shifting with an exasperated expression.

"Stay ou..."

Sam

You clam up and try to turn away but it's not enough. The little gremlin has seen the damage to your shirt and makes a bee line for you.

"Name! Are you hurt?"

*if your stats lean towards sarcastic

You shrug casually, "No. Just got bored and decided to skin a pig to pass the time."

He glares and rests his hands on his hips.

"Didn't your mother teach you any manners? You're supposed to wear an apron or overcoat when you do that. Now you're going to drip blood all over the furniture."

*if your stats lean towards genuine

You bar him from stepping closer but smile to calm him, " No I am fine. This isn't mine."

He looks you over with a frown.

"Did you spill one of the blood bags on yourself again? I've told you to be careful with the bottom pin. God you're getting forgetful. Then again memory loss is a part of growing old."

You swat the back of his head with a sticky hand.

2. Cyrus

His brows knock higher and he scowls, "Oh for god's sake! I leave you unsupervised for an hour and you're covered in blood."

Even though his initial response is grudging anger, his blue gaze brims with concern. He strides towards you and moves your hands away from the shirt. Next he checks your wrists and face for any visible injuries.

His voice is a stern grumble but the anxiety and adoration on his face hit different when he speaks the familiar words.

"Did someone mess with you?"

3. Blade

The Weapon's Marshal usual stone mask splinters as waves of surprise followed by worry tide over his sharp features.

"Damn it."

Within seconds, he's by your side. Unlike most people Blade doesn't have qualms about breaching your personal space. He untucks your shirt in one smooth move and with light fingers skims the blood stained surface of your abdomen.

"Blade!"

He ignores your protest and tilts your face with a hand around your neck.

"Explain."

4. Gauge

"Name?"

Their eyes widen a fraction and they rush to your side. They encircle your waist with their arms in a light embrace. They wipe away the blood on your cheek with their palm and tug at your waist.

"Come on. Let's get you down to the infirmary. You'll be fine."

You blink unused to being the comfortee.

"It's not mine."

They smile relieved and pull you in for a hug. Their next words are a wracked sigh.

5. Raz

Her hair is pulled back in a plait meaning she must have returned from a track. She gaps and unties the scarf around her neck.

"Did you cut yourself?"

You shake your head amused at the squirming anxiety on her pretty features. You didn't think the sight of blood would disturb her to this extent. Actually, you've never seen her this disheveled.

She traces a hand over your shirt and shoves you by the shoulder with a snarl.

"You are such a dog! How could you just stand there like that!"

You wag your brows and gesture at your shirt, "Why? Does this bother you?"

She swats at your arm as you laugh. Reaching towards your face with the scarf she wipes the blood off your cheek.

The vulnerability on her face sobers you as does the waver in her voice.

"Don't ever...do that to me. I couldn't...bear it if something happened to you."

6. Atlas 

Their grin disappears and is replaced by a worried frown.

“What is it with you and blood?”

They walk up to you slowly assessing the state of your shirt and blood stained hands.

Their gaze is missing that spark and they caress your face with the back of their palm. Stormy grey eyes dull with fear and concern as their gloved palms slide around your waist.

“Tell me.”

7. Brin

Brin rushes at you without any words and throws their arms around your neck. Their rings feel cold against your warm face as they search for a wound with light fingers. 

“Where does it hurt? I am so sorry. This should never have happened under my watch.”

They bite their trembling lips as their hazel eyes fill with tears.

“Say something please.”

You can’t help the smile. For so long you’ve been the one fretting over others. It’s good to have someone other than Sam do that for you. 

“It’s not mine.”

Brin doesn’t respond and just buries their face in your shoulder.

8. Skylar

Skylar bangs open the door, “NAME! Look at....”

Her green eyes widen and you brace yourself as she throws herself at you. The girl can be such a tornado sometimes. Her hands roam over your wrists, hands and you startle as she tries to yank your shirt off.

“Hey! Easy Sky! The blood’s not mine.”

She sighs and falls into your arms.

“Thank god! I was so scared.”

You pat her back as she wraps her necks around your neck.

THE END.

This was spontaneous and I wrote it to the best of my abilities while sitting in an airport. So sorry if some versions are shorter than others.

[twst-campos13]

headcanons for Rook, Malleus, Silver, and Vil when their m!s/o jumps on their back biting their head screaming nonsense like a mad man. the first year gang coming running and one explains wheezing “mistake in potions, physical capabilities inhanced, out of control, immune to magic, help”

the rest of the day is spent with literally all the twst boys chasing after their insane boyfriend. tears were shed, dignity lost, pride scratched.

by the time he’s caught it’s nearly midnight and none of them know what’s real anymore since he kept screaming very philosophical things.

i await your answer with anticipation~

*weakly grips you,,,* 

it is...finished....i will leave most of my commentary in the notes...also please read the warning tags carefully! 

Warnings: language, mild physical violence, implicit dementia (Vil’s part!), poison, blood, depiction/description of death, goofy’s trial dialogue (Vil’s part), mild gun threat (Vil’s part) << no actual guns were present but was mentioned Tags: male!reader, angst, crackfic

This wasn't supposed to happen. This wasn't supposed to happen.

Ace started it. Deuce aided. Epel volunteered. Jack said it was a bad idea and Sebek warned them. Yet in the end—in the end—they contributed. They helped. And when the smoke cleared from the explosion that shattered the laboratory's windows, beakers, and test tubes, spilling chemicals on the ground—on you—it was too late for Crewel to protect you. For your friends to protect you.

Grim called your name. Once. Twice. Thrice in a yowl of panic as Deuce held him back and carried him away when he tried to get closer to your unmoving body; it's laying in a puddle of liquid. Black? Brown? Gray? He doesn't know the colors—how doesn't know what's happening—he doesn't know and he doesn't care because he just wants you to be safe.

Ace couldn't speak. Deuce couldn't move. Epel started shaking but hid behind a mask of control. Jack's ears and tail were erratic and Sebek broke the silence with a firm command of retreating. Let the professor handle this. Let the adult handle it.

Then you moved.

They watched you rose from the ground like a corpse from the grave.

And hell breaks loose.

➸ Why did you bite his head and messed his hair up

➸ He got no time for games, fool

➸ KIDDING

➸ Granted you did jump at Vil when his Flying Class was done. It startled him and shocked everybody. His face flared because he thought your surprise hugs had gotten too far. It took Mr. Ashton and a few of his classmates to get you off him. He's pretty sure you managed to tear off a few hairs from his scalp—and skin apparently because he felt blood drip down his lashes. 

➸ Okay, that's not normal behavior for you-

➸ You were more than disheveled; your lab coat was torn and singed, blood was seeping from your clothes, and you had a dazed look. Vil fixed himself immediately, of course, but it's natural for him to get worried about you. You looked awful. Vil was sure the chemicals splattered on your skin and uniform was what was making you disoriented. What are these fools doing still holding onto you? You should be taken to the infirmary this instance! 

➸ Vil wasn't prepared for what you did next. The moment Mr. Ashton held your shoulders to lead you to the infirmary, you knocked him out with an elbow strike. What the fuck.

➸ Okay, obviously, you're defensive. Vil took out his pen and—along with a few other students and the professor??—tried to restrain you. Vil was careful not to cast any harmful spells on you but for some reason, the professor and the other seniors seem to go off on casting advanced spells that could quite literally kill you! Du spinnst wohl are they insane?

➸ It took a lot from Vil to not be hysterical. Panicking will not do him any good but having to witness you get blasted by magic and only shake it off while maddeningly laughing is frustrating. He couldn't bear the sight of seeing you get hurt and argued loudly with one of the seniors to go easy on you. The fact that you were spouting nonsense doesn't help your situation at all, especially when you declared this, "ah-hyuck! I'll fucking shoot 'em again."

➸ "Love, will you please cooperate!" was what Vil wished to say, but seeing you in this state brought a jab of pain in his heart. The familiarity of this situation—the confusion, the frustration, the worry, the pain—adds up to the pressure and desperation of just saving you from whatever the fuck this is. 

➸ Vil doesn't even want to look at himself in the mirror. He fears that he'll end up breaking the mirror from what he'll see, but he's pretty sure, with the fight and the chase you're giving everyone, that his makeup is running and his hair is a mess. Amidst nausea and chaos, Vil came up with a solution to restrain you. So, gathering what is left of his dignity and pride, and his love for you, Vil wiped the sweat and smudged makeup off his face and ran back to Pomefiore.

➸ Don't ask why he has a ready-made collection of poisons. Just don't. It's for emergencies—such as this. 

➸ Rook found him hunched over his table with the vials of poison. He calmed Vil down and assured him that you'll be alright. The only fear that Vil has is losing another person he cares about—that includes you. Rook kissed his hand and told him he will bring the poison to you. Rook knows how much you mean to Vil, and because of his devotion to his roi de poison, he will do whatever he can to ensure your safety for Vil's sanity.

➸ Rook advised Vil not to come with him, but he wants to. Vil wants to be able to hold you in his arms and be the first to make sure that you're okay. 

➸ When the deed has been done, Vil rushed to your side. He expected your body to be as cold as a corpse but still, it shocked him. He ignored the whisper of doubt and tended to the wound Rook made to put you to sleep. You've been taken to the infirmary along with everyone else that you caused inconvenience. Vil didn't come for the anxiety settled with the fatigue in his body.

➸ When Vil came back to the Pomefiore common room, sluggish and tired, he found Rook holding Epel's shoulder. The little potato couldn't look at him in the eye and frankly, Vil just wanted to spend some time in his quarters. However, Epel's confessed, and a little bit of energy came back to Vil so he can process what the little potato said to him.

➸ He what.

➸ His hand sprung up instinctively and Epel flinched. But Vil knew this wouldn't undo what happened. He knew it isn't worth it. Vil doesn't have the strength to be angry or blame Epel. It was a mistake, after all. A very stupid mistake. Epel looked pitiful crying for forgiveness so Vil asked Rook to send him back to his room.

➸ It's proven enough just how Vil cares about you.

Vil sat down in front of his vanity table. He could not bear to look at himself in the mirror. All he could do is stare blankly at nothing. Your words made no sense and Vil feared the worst when you wake up. If you wake up.

"Great Sevens..." he muttered and wiped the tears that fell from his face. He knew what he had to do next. He just had to be prepared for it.

➸  Imagine Rook saying "oh mon Dieu" with the most neutral face and surprised eyes as if the explosion was just a mild inconvenience. 

➸  POV: you're Trey Clover 

➸  He and Trey were just cleaning around in the greenhouse when the explosion occurred. Rook knows that you have a special assignment with your friends. You didn't tell him what it is but he doesn't need you to. (He overheard Epel and Ace chill he respects you enough as his boyfriend to not pry into your private life via stalking)

- ➸ He wasted no time dashing to the potions lab. Being a hunter makes you very quickly as well as expecting the unexpected. However, he didn't expect the First Year Gang to be thrown out of the door and you emerge from the smoke as if you were some sort of ravaging beast. 

➸  If you weren't obviously covered in soot and blood, Rook would have fainted from the beauty and badassery you're currently conveying. 

➸  Now is not the time to be in awe—you jumped wall to wall with a speed faster than a cheetah's and Rook was able to deflect your attack by sidestepping. However, a few students got injured in the process. Rook saw your intention despite Monsieur Heart warning the students to not get in the way, lest they hurt themselves. You had no intention to harm—only run. 

➸  Rook has two options: follow you empty-handed or grab his bow and risk losing you

➸  He's confident in his skills in finding you, so he chose to gather information first. By that, well, pulling Epel to the side to calm him down then ask him what happened. Rook managed to understand the situation despite Epel shaking like a leaf. He doesn't feel angry. Such emotion would only intensify his instincts and he might do something that will put you and everyone else in harm more. So instead he thanked Epel, gave his head a pat, and quickly dashed to his locker for his bow and arrows. 

➸  Your boyfriend is a madman before you, for he immediately knows where you were after getting his bow. Rook attained higher heights for a better view and from the roof, he saw your figure dashing towards the forest. Ah, so your instincts led you to where you wish to be. Alright, this isn't Rook's first hunt. 

➸  When everyone else had trouble tracking you down, Rook doesn't. He reminded himself that you're not in the right mind. His monsieur filou is akin to a startled, confused, and defensive wild animal at the moment. Like a little rat, he supposed. Your movements aren't that hard to decipher for a hunter like him plus he can hear your kitchen philosophy from a mile away. 

➸  He has to apologize to Vil for taking a few vials of ready-made poison. But this is a matter of life and death. You are in danger from yourself, and as your knight, Rook will save you. Quiet as he can, he laced the tip of his arrow with the poison and aimed it at you. Rook closed his eyes and reminded himself that he is doing this to save you; not to harm you. 

➸  He notched his arrow—and you caught it with your bare. Fucking. Hand. SINGLE HAND!!

➸  Rook, internally: holy shit that was hot 

➸  Well his covers have been blown and you waved the arrow around screaming something about "I trusted you little guy!" before throwing the arrow with such accuracy while saying "go and take your little mice friend family rat with you!"

➸  Mon Dieu, he does not appreciate being called a rat!

➸  The chase continued and you quite gave everyone a workout. As much as Rook appreciated the stimulating experience you gave him, he much rather wants you subdued and safe, not running around with so many people after you. Luckily, Vil came in and gave him a new vial that is much more potent than the one he stole. He is amazed by the preparedness of his roi de poison but he is much concerned at the potency of the poison. 

➸  Vil strictly stared at him and nodded at the new direction you ran to. "With his state like that, you need to take the risks." Rook took his advice. Vil is always sharp as a dagger after all.

➸  Which means he had to use a dagger than an arrow to subdue you. Yes, Rook took the risk of having the poison close to him and closer to you in a 1 v 1 scuffle. Ah, this took him back to when he wrestled his first bear. Except the bear is his boyfriend and you're still quite human...and he's going to drive the blade of his dagger in a non-critical part of your body.

➸  Finally, the drama ended, and the curtains closed when your body fell into his arms. Your blood trickles into a small stream from where he drove the blade in. Rook knelt to the ground and cradled your body in his arms. Sweat dripped everywhere on his skin but he doesn't care about that. He cares about you. 

➸  Rook reminded himself that you can be cured of your sleep-like death and prioritized the wound that he engraved on your skin. He kissed the place where he stabbed you and solemnly apologized for defacing your body. Worry not, he will have you stitched in the infirmary, and you will awaken with his kiss...atleast he hoped you will. 

➸  Epel was waiting there when Rook brought you in. The poor boy had been crying and he apologized to Rook for the mistake he had done. Rook felt no anger and instead felt sympathy. He too had done his fair share of mistakes, and Epel should not burden himself with those. Instead, he told him, take this as a learning experience as to not do it again.

➸  Rook saved Epel from Vil's harsh scolding. Now, the only one that needs saving, is you.

Even in a sleep-like death, you are still beautiful. Your pale skin is a worrying sight to many but Rook managed to calm himself by admiring it instead. Your body is like marble with blue veins spreading in varied directions.

Rook knew he cannot distract himself by admiring you like a statue of art. You are an art, not a statue. Only histories remain as statues—and you will not become history. He knew what he had to do.

"Oh, mon filou," he whispered against your cold lips, "forgive me."

➸ Just a reminder: Malleus cares for you deeply :))

➸ He was just minding his own business when you suddenly attacked him from behind. Malleus thought you were just being your usual self and lifted his head so you'd let go of his horns. But you didn't and instead, you pulled on it harder that it startled him. He knows how strong you are—meaning something is wrong-

➸ You had quite the vice grip on his horns even when he used his tail to try and pry you off and even shake you off. He didn't want to use his entire strength to throw you but the moment his skin broke under your nails, his instincts came in first, and he threw you across the hallway. 

➸ Malleus was horrified. He didn't mean to throw you much less even hurt you. The panic got to him faster than the pain on his head as he rushed to where you flew. Was it possible to feel overwhelming fear? When Malleus' saw the outline of your figure cut clean on the window, he felt something more than fear. If he had lost you and it was his fault, then his promises for you are broken. 

➸ Then he spots your hand reach through the hole in the window. And you pulled yourself up and through the hole before dropping to the floor like a ragdoll. You were covered in bruises and cuts. Malleus feared that you have a concussion as well for you were muttering loudly about the stars melting and the Moores burning.

➸ Well, Malleus could worry about that later. You were injured and disoriented. The amount of blood coming out of you is increasing and his priority is getting you to safety. 

➸ However, just before he can scoop you in his arms, his knights came to his side. Silver looked like he'd been roused from his sleep as Sebek is disheveled. He made a firm declaration of protecting the Young Master, and that would have been normal for Sebek...if he was standing proud and tall as he said it. Malleus could easily smell the anxiety and lingering guilt from the young fae. 

➸ Things got even more concerning as Professor Crewel, Crowley, a few senior students, and Sebek's friends joined in. Malleus looked back at you and saw your cornered state. He doesn't understand what's happening yet but one thing is for sure—you're equally terrified as he is. Everyone was on guard, the Headmaster and the Professor spoke to you as if you were a wild animal—which you were—but all Malleus could think of is grabbing you and flying you away to safety.

➸ Which he did do despite public opinions

➸ By public opinions, the shouts of protests that soon fell quiet when he grabbed you and disappeared...also the "protest" falling from you which Malleus couldn't really understand. It was philosophy and poetry and a prophecy that he can comprehend little; for all Malleus cares about is you.

➸ "My dear, please, what had happened to you?" The desperation was painfully obvious in his tone as he restrained you with advanced magic. Yet as he tried to call you out of your subconscious he realized that magic is futile. Whatever state you are in you are able to break free from his magic. Malleus stayed on the defense as you attacked him, yet he recognized your attempts of attacking as desperation for help. If you crying and wailing out "save me" and "free me" isn't enough to give it away.

➸ No matter how many cuts you give him, no matter how much he will bleed, Malleus refused to fight you. 

➸ He just wants you to be okay :((

➸  Malleus knew what he had to do but he doesn't know if he had the strength to do it. Your face streaked with tears and pain pushed his heart to do it anyway. So, Malleus shoved you away with a quick pulse of magic, just enough time for him to summon his staff. He blocked your mouth from biting his neck with his arm, and even if it hurts, seeing your eyes begging to be saved hurts more. 

➸ When Lilia and the others found him, he was cradling your body in his arms. His staff laid on the ground and his tears dripped down your face like a fickle rain. Lilia didn't need an answer to know what he had done. 

➸ Malleus pulled your unconscious body close to him, hoping—desperate—to feel your warmth. But he couldn't. He couldn't hear your pulse, your heartbeat, and he couldn't feel your warmth. All he could feel is cold and numbness. But atleast you are at rest. You are saved. You're okay. You're okay, you're okay, you're okay.

➸ But he knows deep down that you're not. Because if you are okay, he wouldn't be noiselessly crying and clinging to your body as if you just died. You're alive but you're also dead. Knowing the cure for this dilemma tore his heart to pieces because deep down Malleus is still afraid. He feels like he lost you even though the truth isn't far from it. 

➸ Your words echoed in his mind before he hit you with his Unique Magic. You started hissing and wailing and finally, you raised your arms in the air and shouted, "this curse will last till the end of time—no power on earth can change it!" 

➸ Can you blame him for putting you in a sleep-like death, a sleep which you will never awaken unless by True Love's Kiss? He panicked :((

➸ Malleus kept your body close to him even when he stood up and looked at Sebek bowing deeply on the ground. He was shaking but his tone was loud enough for Malleus to have an understanding of the matter and of Sebek's apology. 

➸ Hearing that he was an accomplice of what happened to you gave him mixed emotions. 

➸ Sebek vowed his loyalty to Malleus, and when you came into his life, Sebek vowed to protect you as well. And he failed. That is very clear. The poor boy must be getting gnawed inside out with guilt. Well, Sebek did say that he will accept whatever punishment that is will befall him. He should stay true to his words because Malleus is furious. 

➸ Malleus vowed to protect you and raise Hellfire to whoever will cause you harm. He wanted to curse him, burn him on where he stands, and make him pay for what he had done unto you. He could do all of these for he can.

➸ But Malleus won't. He won't do those things to Sebek. He held himself back, swallowed the anger, remained in control of himself in front of the pitiful boy. Sebek is your friend. Sebek is his family. In the end, despite his loyalty, despite his duty, Sebek is still a kid. And Malleus knows that. He won't let this burden the young boy despite him taking full responsibility for the situation.

➸ But Malleus doesn't have the words to say what he wants to say. Instead, he told Sebek to rise from his feet and wordlessly left to bring you to the infirmary. 

➸ In the end, what matters most is you.

Your words remain in his mind to echo along with the voices of his fears. Malleus wished to feel the warmth of your hand again, for when he grasped it by your bedside he could feel nothing.

True Love's Kiss can wake you. True Love's Kiss. But do such a thing exist in Twisted Wonderland? Of course, it does, Malleus, of course, it does. However, seeing your pale lips are more of a dreadful reminder than a hopeful invitation.

The fear settled in his stomach along with his insecurities. Malleus cannot lose you. He can live without you, but he does not want to.

➸ Homeboy was just sleeping under the tree,,, he didn't hear the explosion go off or even heard you running at him at full speed

➸ By that, well, running at inhumane speed and pouncing right on him like a rabid animal.

➸ He woke right up when he felt the pain immediately. It was like getting hit with a spine of a book—it jostled him enough to wake him, at least, and the adrenaline rushing through him was enough to knock you off. Silver didn't have time to get what the fuck was happening but thank the Sevens he was trained enough to be quick-footed. 

➸ He had time to grab his baton but he didn't have time to block your pounce. And damn you hit like a truck! Silver had to use his baton to block your face even if your entire weight was pressing down at him. There was something definitely wrong with you—and it's not just the look in your eyes-

➸ "What's gotten into you?!" the sudden shout made you calm down—thankfully—and Silver thought you're fine again. You looked at him blankly and the anxiety nipped at his skin. "Are you talking to me?" ????? Who else is he talking to??? 

➸ When he talked to you, like, yes dear I'm talking to you, your face contorted into something akin to bashfulness—the tipsy kind of bashfulness. The next thing you said confused and worried him more: "Mrs. Robinsons...you're seducing me."

➸ ???? Who the fuck is Mrs. Robinsons???

➸ Well, Silver doesn't have time to think what kind of enchantment table language you're daying because you're suddenly thrown away from him by a burst of magic—advanced magic that he only saw Malleus cast once because of the sheer force it can create. By that, meaning, one single hit of that magic can KILL A REGULAR HUMAN BEING.

➸ It was Professor Crewel who fired the blast and even he looked astounded at what he'd done. Silver didn't waste any time rushing to where you were blasted off. He was expecting you...dead, remains, fuck...what he wasn't expecting was seeing you still standing. Barely alive with your skin blooded and peeling and regenerating—but alive, nonetheless. 

➸ He locked eyes with you again and the cold feeling settled at the pit of his stomach looking at you. "Hey. Don't look at me like I'm fucking Frankenstein." You opened your arms at him and gave a solemn nod. "Give your father a hug." 

➸ Silver, softly: what the fuck

➸ When Professor Crewel withdrew his wand again you literally hissed like a raccoon. And it looked like he wasn't alone for Sebek pulled Silver away from your range. Ace, Deuce, and Grim were here too. Silver took a deep breath and looked at Sebek wordlessly demanding what the fuck is happening. 

➸ Sebek, as quick as he could, explained the situation to Silver. The quick run-down of things swum around in Silver's head as your nonsensical remarks made him dizzier. Guess that explains your strength and immunity to magic. 

➸ Silver: who did this to him?? Sebek, sweating: it's a funny story, really

➸ Silver stared at Sebek. He didn't have time to process what the fuck Sebek just confessed to because you screamed again. Sebek and he whipped around to see you viciously tearing apart roots and magical bonds set off by the professor along with the senior students that rushed to the scene. "ALRIGHT," you screamed, yeeting Ace, "I'm TIRED of these EFFIN snakes on this MOTHERFUCKIN' TRAIN!" Then you took off running the other direction toward the forest, and the chorus of frustration reminded Silver of the gravity of the situation.

➸ The absurd weight on his entire body made Silver wish this was just a nightmare.

➸ But it would be a nightmare to lose you. 

➸ Even when the night was starting to stretch, and the others were sent by the staff to the infirmary, Silver went to the forest with a heavy heart and his baton in hand. Sebek followed him—for what, a sense of responsibility?—and stopped him before he runs into a tree or worse. Silver snapped at him, the anger finally reaching its surface, and he glared at the young man. Silver isn't the type to fight with his fist nor his words, but this is about you. You who were struck by a mix of potions and magic and currently missing because someone's big head got you in trouble.

➸ Silver knows that Sebek knows how much you mean to him. He's also well aware of Sebek's particular dislike for humans. That remark made Sebek slightly stumble. A flash of hurt and angry was in his eyes but he never tried to hit Silver, despite almost losing control over himself. 

➸ "Fighting would not bring him back, Silver. Arguing will not either," Sebek told him. "I know my apologies will be useless in this situation and that is why I will do everything that I can to fix this." 

➸ Silver is on the verge of fucking tears but it won't compare to Sebek who remains a straight face while his nose turns bright red from holding back tears. Fortunately, before things get worse, Lilia and Malleus came from the trees. In Malleus' arms was you, quiet, and sedated. Silver would have jumped at Malleus and whisked you away but he's suddenly overcome with fatigue that Lilia had to place his arms around him. 

➸ Apparently, the two found you by the river doing whatever then Malleus struck you with his Unique Magic. At that mention, Silver felt cold. He didn't realize how tired he felt, from running around to worrying about you. Despite the heaviness on his shoulders and eyelids, he kept his eyes on you. You looked peaceful but hurt. And Silver wished he can keep you close to him to make you less hurt.

➸ He's glad that you're okay now but he feels dreadful about what's to come next. That dread never left, though, even when the slumber takes him.

"Poor things," Lilia sighed, stroking Silver's locks as Sebek carried the boy on his back. Malleus still has your unconscious body in your arms. His expression is unreadable.

Sebek felt the guilt suffocating him but he remained calm despite the lodge in his throat. "M—Master Lilia—Young master—It...this is..." Sebek stammered, failing to grasp the appropriate words for a sincere pardon. Yet Silver's weight is just as heavy as his sins. Lilia, however, stroked his head. "Save your strength, little one. The best you can do for now is take Silver to the infirmary," the elder fae instructed.

Sebek only nodded and obediently abided.

[leejungchans]

— dance with me?

word count: 1.7k

pairing: dino (svt) x ateez oc (juliet)

warning(s): none!!

genre: an overwhelming amount of fluff bc i love lee chan

set on february 11, 2021

summary: during a late-night date on dino’s birthday, he asks juliet a special question.

juliet’s masterlist

minnie 🐭❤️ [22:16] i’m heading down now!! (◕‿◕) don’t drive off without me please ur so sexc 😩😩

From where he is, parked a street down from the building where ATEEZ’s dorm is in, Chan shakes his head fondly, looking out the window from the driver’s seat for any sign of his girlfriend.

Sure enough, just a few minutes later, Juliet emerges from the building’s entrance, glancing down the mostly empty street before spotting the familiar car.

Under the light of the street lamps, he can see that she’s wearing a huge puffer jacket with a scarf wrapped around her neck, purple hair stuffed under her beanie to avoid catching the attention of prying eyes. With all the layers she has on, she reminds him of a waddling penguin as she speed-walks towards the car.

Cute.

Chan unlocks the door as Juliet approaches, her eyes smiling while she settles into the passenger’s seat before leaning over the console to hug him. “Happy birthday, Channie,” she beams, taking off her mask to nuzzle the bottom half of her face into the thick material of her scarf.

“You already said that,” Chan teases, also smiling as he watches her fumble with the seatbelt for a bit.

“That was from almost twelve hours ago at 12 am! I think it’s illegal if I didn’t wish you a happy birthday again,” Juliet protests. “Sorry for being late, by the way. Have you been waiting long?”

“It’s only a few minutes, don’t sweat it.”

“Okay, but there’s actually a good reason! I was about to leave the building when Mingi-oppa called me because I left your present on the table, and I had to go back up to grab it! So you have him to thank that you have a birthday present.”

Juliet takes out a small gift bag, its handles tied together with ribbon so he can’t look into it, and hands it to him with a sweet grin. “Don’t open it now, though,” she warns half-jokingly.

“What? Why?” Chan whines. “I can’t even open my own present on my birthday?”

“No, because if you open it now then I’ll have to explain the meaning behind your gift, and if I do that I might actually cry. There’s a card inside explaining it.”

“What if I want to hear it from you?”

“Then you can call me when you get home,” she responds cheekily.

Chan relents. “Fine, you win. But you didn’t have to get me anything, I hope you know that,” he adds the last part seriously.

Juliet smiles reassuringly. “I know, but I wanted to. I hope you’ll like it, though.”

“I know I will.” It’s at that moment when he finally gets a good look at her face, the light from the street lamps hitting it just enough for him to note the dark circles under her eyes. “You look tired, baby. Don’t get me wrong, you’re beautiful no matter what, but is everything okay?”

“Hm? Oh, yeah.” As though on cue, Juliet brings a hand up to cover her mouth as she yawns. “Just a little tired from comeback preparations and practising for Kingdom. I’ll be fine, though, don’t worry.”

“I’ll always worry about you,” Chan admits. “You shouldn’t have come so you can rest.”

Juliet frowns. “No, I wanted to see you. Plus, it’s your birthday.”

“Okay, but you have to promise that you’ll take care of yourself.”

“I always do!” A pause. “Okay, sometimes I don’t, but I’ll try,” she promises genuinely.

Chan smiles. “Good. Let’s go, then. Seatbelt on?”

“Mhm!”

“Um, where exactly are you taking me?” Juliet asks suspiciously, noting that they’re currently driving up a hill away from central Seoul.

“Patience, Minnie. You’ll find out soon,” Chan says with a mischievous smirk. “We’re almost there.”

She feigns an offended gasp. “I am always patient! I’m just asking because I’m too pretty to meet my end now.”

“If something happens, I’ll protect you.”

“Nice try, but don’t think I haven’t watched that episode of GOING SEVENTEEN with you guys in the haunted house,” Juliet teases with a raised brow. “If anything, we probably need to call Wonwoo-ssi or Minghao-ssi.”

Chan groans. “Can we not talk about my members when we’re on a date?”

This only earns a laugh from Juliet. “You’re cute when you’re jealous.”

“You’re going to tease me even on my birthday?”

“It’s how I show affection!” she defends while the car comes to a stop at the side of a dimly lit road. “Are we here?”

Upon his nod, she unbuckles her seatbelt to hop out the car, snow crunching under her boots. Immediately, harsh winds whip at her face and she shivers, the temperature even lower due to the higher elevation.

She hears a lighthearted tsk from behind her before feeling her jacket being draped over her shoulders. “You left it in the backseat, silly,” Chan says softly while he helps her into it, referring to when she took it off during the car ride. “You’re going to catch a cold.”

“No, I won’t. I have you to remind me,” Juliet says cheekily, earning herself a light flick on the forehead. She follows Chan to a clearing a few paces away from where they parked and immediately realises why he took her here.

Seoul, with its sparkling lights, is captivating at night when you’re in the heart of the city, but perhaps even more so when you’re looking at it from afar. She can’t help but admire the stark contrast between the tranquil hillside they’re at that compared to the vibrant city centre it overlooks.

“I sometimes come here with the members when we want to be away from... the loudness of it all,” Chan explains quietly as they move closer to the railing. “To think. Or just to take our mind off certain things.”

Juliet leans closer to his side to link their arms, her head coming to rest on his shoulder. “It’s beautiful. Thank you for bringing me here.”

“Don’t come to places like here often?”

She snorts. “I don’t just let anyone drive me to a dark hill in the middle of the night.”

Chan laughs, gently resting his head on hers. “You have a point. Does this mean I’m the only person allowed to take you here?”

“I’d like that. I also have a horrible sense of direction, so I don’t think I can remember the way here even if I tried.” Despite her quip, something in Juliet feels fuzzy and warm at the thought of this place being one only they know of.

It brings a sense of giddiness, the same one she felt when she was much, much younger; when she and her friends first decided on a secret hideout at their school back home in Sydney. Only this time, there’s more to it than just childhood innocence.

Juliet doesn’t know much about love. She’s had crushes here and there throughout her life, but none of them ever developed into something further. Of course, until she met Chan.

She doesn’t know much about love. But this feels like it.

And that’s more than enough for her.

His voice cuts through her thoughts. “I actually have something to ask you.”

At her hum, he continues.

“I was wondering if you’d want to be on Danceology. You know, like for a collaboration. We can choreograph and dance it together... anything you want, really.”

Juliet looks up at the boy with wide eyes, not knowing if she heard him correctly. “You’re sure?”

“You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to. Or you don’t have to decide now, I know you’re really busy these days. No pressure at all.”

“No, no,” she clarifies. “I meant if you’re sure you want to do one with me?”

The look in his eyes is so tender that she feels like crying. “I wouldn’t want anyone else.”

Something tells her he’s not only referring to Danceology.

Juliet leans her forehead on Chan’s shoulder to hide her face from him. “You’re going to make me cry on your own birthday,” she mutters.

“Is that a yes?”

She nods against him while blinking away the hot tears prickling at her eyes, feeling his lips press against her temple.

“That’s the best present you could’ve given me.”

“Yah, you can’t say that!” Juliet says, somehow finding it in her to crack a joke. What can she say? Humour is one of her many coping mechanisms. “You’re only supposed to say that if I didn’t give you anything! What does that make the gift I got you?”

“Best of the best?” At her laugh, Chan presses again, “am I still not allowed to open it?”

“No, you’re not.”

[00:05—Outside ATEEZ’s dorm]

“Okay, fine, you can open it.”

“What made you change your mind?” Chan grins, already reaching for the small bag in the backseat.

“Honestly, I don’t know,” Juliet admits, smiling as she uses the dimmest setting of her phone’s flashlight to illuminate the dark interior, the overhead light being too risky to turn on at this hour lest they want to draw unwanted attention to themselves. “I guess I want to see your reaction.”

She stares quietly as he undos the ribbon tying the handles together before looking into the bag and taking out a small box. Despite her shyness and the sudden urge to jump out of the car and run back up to the dorm, Juliet continues to hold up her phone as he takes out the silver band within it.

It’s simple, minimalist, inconspicuous enough to wear during the day but at the same time uniquely his due to the custom engraving on the outside of the band. A snowflake.

She bites the inside of her cheek from nervousness as Chan silently reads the small card that came along in the bag, subconsciously tracing over her neat handwriting with his finger.

“Like a snowflake, I fell for you hahahaha (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) You asked me to be yours during the first snow of the year. I hope that is only the start of many more years to come. Happy Birthday, always be happy and healthy ❤️ And don’t forget to take care of yourself!! (♡`Д´) If you forget I’ll come over and nag you, but maybe you’d like that more than not ��ㅋㅋ — 🐭❤️”

Chan’s eyes are glossy when he finally meets her curious and worried gaze, trying to gauge his reaction. He beams brightly.

“Told you I’d like it.”

find their collaboration here!! 😼

a/n: blessing you guys with this gif bc look at him go!! ;-; stream dino’s dancelogy to be sexcie 😼 pls don’t let juno flop </3 also i thought it’d be too mean if i didn’t tell you what the present was bc i definitely considered not saying anything about it 👀👀 anyways let me know what you think about this chapter 🥺 personally i am <///3 bc bwhehwhs i want what they have but also i’m not very good at writing fluff whjehdhw i cringe at myself sm when writing it 🤡

thank you so much for reading 💕 please do consider leaving feedback whether it’s a reblog, a reply or an ask, it would mean the absolute world to me as feedback really motivates and supports creators 🥺 and feel free to chat with me about juliet or anything else through my asks!! as always, take care and have a good day!!

[palbabor-writes]

Quarter-Century

Pairing: Sakusa Kiyoomi x Fem!Reader

Warnings: mild heavy petting, but this is pretty tame, oh & lots of fluff, likely enough to kill someone, so watch out for that, k?

What’s with him today? It’s just another day. After all, birthdays don’t matter when you’re this old, right? It’s not like he’s a kid. He doesn’t need a party, doesn’t really want one either. Besides, you’ve likely got something planned, you always do.

Words: 3754

Notes: if i call this a drabble are y’all gonna get mad at me? 

Quarter-Century quar·ter-cen·tu·ry /ˈkwôrdər/ - /ˈsen(t)SH(ə)rē/ noun  a period of 25 years

Twenty-five.  

It’s always spoken about like it’s some kind of milestone. Eh, it’s just another year, Kiyoomi thinks, tugging his sweaty shirt off of his back and walking toward the MSBY team dressing room, there’s nothing special about it. 

He’d woken up at 5:25, taken his first shower, kissed your sleeping form absentmindedly on the cheek before he left the bedroom, and jogged the three miles to the training facility.

He’d worked on his digs, on his jump float, and looked over the drills. The team had two practice games and had huddled up for the review at the end, the same as always. As Kiyoomi made his way out of the locker room Atsumu and Bokuto had both clapped him on the back, joking about the fleeting joys of ‘youth,’ and congratulating him on his performance on the court before they all went their separate ways, each gliding along their own trajectory. 

No, there’s nothing special about birthdays.

You’re not back from work when he gets home, so Kiyoomi pads around the empty apartment, flitting from room to room, disjointedly flipping on lights and switching them back off seconds later. It’s like he can’t make up his mind. Should he take a nap? He could sleep off these uncharacteristic and frustrating jitters that keep coursing through him. No, he reconsiders naps just make him groggy and irritable. What else?

He’s showered twice today, there’s no need for another, and it looks like you’d cleaned up the living room and kitchen before you’d left for the day, so there’s nothing for him to clean either. Ugh, what’s with this restlessness? 

There are old matches that he can watch, already primed and loaded onto his laptop, but it’s charging in the bedroom, likely tucked under some of your leaflets and various heapings of paperwork. It’d be a pain to move everything.

Eh, he could start a puzzle, maybe flip through some channels, see what’s on TV, and there’s that book that you’d told him he should check out, he’s weeks behind on starting that, but it’s in the bedroom too, and–

Damn it. It feels like he’s stuck in some kind of loop.

He flops down on the couch, tipping his dark head back, obsidian curls fanning around his forehead as he stares up at the ceiling. What’s with him today? It’s just another day. After all, birthdays don’t matter when you’re this old, right? It’s not like he’s a kid. He doesn’t need a party, doesn’t really want one either. Besides, you’ve likely got something planned, you always do. He smiles at that thought, running his hands through his hair and letting out a deep exhale. It’ll be alright, he reasons, you’ll get back and he’ll shake himself out of this funk, and then maybe he can–

The sudden scrape of the lock turning makes him jump, and he pops his head up just as you step through the door, a smattering of canvas bags tucked under your coiled hands. You spot him as you tap the door closed, a broad grin lighting up your face. “Hey there!” you call out, stepping toward the kitchen to deposit your purchases. “Did you just get home? Practice go okay?” 

“It went well,” Kiyoomi replies, hunching forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “That reminds me, the next match is this weekend, you still planning on going?”

“Yeah!” you confirm, tucking a few things into the fridge before you pace over to his seated figure. “It’s right before the playoffs start, so it’ll likely be one of the last ones I can get a good seat to. Once you guys get in those end of season bouts it gets...Hey, you sure you’re alright? You look a little, I don’t know, downcast?” You kneel in front of him, your hands reaching, stroking gently over his hair and down his jaw. 

“I’m fine. Feel a little...off...is all. Happens.”

“Off?” you question, bright eyes finally catching his onyx. “Well, we can’t have that. Not today!”

“Hmph, it’s just a Saturday,” Kiyoomi huffs, catching your wrists and lowering your hands from his face. 

“Yes,” you continue, watching as he distractedly toys with your hands, trailing his thumbs over your fingers and flipping your palms this way and that within his hold. “It’s also a Saturday where I’ve played the role of good– no great, girlfriend and got us some tickets! Surprise!”

“Tickets?” he echoes, his head cocking to the side as he lifts his gaze back to yours. “To what? If it’s some kinda concert, not to be an ass, but I don’t really want to go to a–”

“Really?” you deadpan, arching an eyebrow at his morose expression. “You think, after two years of dating, that I’d take you to a concert? You? Kiyoomi Sakusa, the man who is pretty much allergic to crowds, who completely dipped out of a shoe store once because there were five people in the ‘athletic wear’ section, who abhors the mere thought of tight spaces and groups of twenty or more, thought that I, his loving partner, decided to put some some color into his living nightmares, and on his birthday no less, by bringing him to a concert?”

Kiyoomi clicks his tongue and exhales a tight laugh. “When you put it that way, no. But on the off chance that you did, and you’re trying to bluff your way out of the situation by over elaborating your reasons for not bringing me, well…I’m gonna have to decline the gift.”

You narrow your eyes at his impassive face and purse your lips. “And to think, I was gonna come over here and give you a kiss and everything.” 

“You’ll still give me one,” Kiyoomi smarts, a coquettish smirk lifting his lips when you openly scoff at him. “So, out with it, what are the tickets to?”

“Oh? Now you wanna know? Suddenly you’re curious. Well you can hold on to that buddy, cuz’ I’m not gonna tell you.”

“Yes, you are.”

“Why should I?”

“It’s my birthday,” he intones simply, broad palms already sliding up your arms, pulling you closer. You smell nice, Kiyoomi thinks, lips barely missing your own as you twist playfully away from him.

“Pfft, what happened to ‘it’s just a Saturday?’” you tease, following his insistent tugs, one knee pressing down into the cushions of the couch as you lower yourself over his lap. 

“Changed my mind,” Kiyoomi states, finally catching you and caressing his lips sinfully against yours. “I’m allowed to do that,” he continues, sucking a rasp from you as he drags his sharp teeth across the plush swell of your lower lip. “Mmm, you might have gotten a little distracted, so let me repeat my question: what are the tickets to?” 

He is genuinely interested; he wants to know what you’ve planned for the two of you, but his hands have already started that downward journey, long digits stroking over the curves that flow down your side, cupping and pulling just the way you like. Your knees lift when he buries his fingertips into the flesh of your upper thighs and you sigh, breath warm against his flushed cheeks. 

Actually, this is fine. After all, he’s good at this. He’s had plenty of time to learn you, to practice, and he loves that he knows just what to do to make you quake between his heated palms. But when he jerks you closer, your lips slip from his and you’re careful to brace yourself away, momentarily safe from his distracting caresses. 

“Baseball,” you pant, hands resting over the hard plane of his pectorals.

“Huh?” he queries, heavy brows furrowing, wholly distracted by the rise and fall of your uneven breaths and the gentle twitch of your spread legs against his hips. 

“A baseball game. I got us tickets to a baseball game.”

“It’s smaller than what I was picturing,” Kiyoomi says, adjusting the placement of his mask before looking down at you. “And what are you gonna do with that bag? Can you even take that in here?”

You laugh at his question, hoisting the thick strap of your insulated pack higher on your shoulder. “It’s the Yomiuri Giants, they’re part of the minor league so it’s a smaller stadium and don’t worry, they let you bring coolers and snacks in.”

“Eh? Snacks? Don’t they have concessions? Seems counter-productive if they let you bring your own food. How are they supposed to make money? Atsumu said that half of our vendors make a good deal of their revenue from their booths during the playoffs and the regular season. So I don’t see how that’s practical. What do you have in there, anyway? It looks heavy. Oh. Did you want me to carry it?”

“I’m not sure which one of those I should answer first,” you grin, dodging his extended hand and stepping forward. “Come on, I think we can head in now.”

The seats are located in the shade of the upper deck, right behind the third base, giving you both a perfect bird's-eye view of the action that will take place down on the field below. True to your word, the ticket inspectors had let you and your pack pass through without a word of protest, and as he flipped down his plastic seat, you carefully tucked the thick canvas between the two of you. 

“What’s in it?” he asked again, peering over your shoulder as you unzipped the long teeth and reached into the dark depths, hands searching for something. 

“You’ll see,” you promise, leaning back once you found your prize, a small bottle of hand sanitizer. You pop the lid up and nod for his palms, carefully pressing some of the clear antiseptic onto his hands. “Game should start soon,” you inform, repeating the cleaning process yourself before closing the top and tossing the bottle back into the bag. “And I wanna make sure you’re set before I head down to the concession stands.”

“So it’s food,” he determines, slipping his mask off of his face, tucking it under his chin, an appreciative smile winding its way up his lips. 

“Of course it is! You think I’d leave you to languish for 9 innings while I sit beside you, gorging myself on the delicious food they sell at the concessions, which you refuse to eat? Alas, not even I am that cruel. Nah, I brought something that I hope you’ll like.”

“I’ll like it,” Kiyoomi replies, resting his muscled shoulder against yours, watching as you arrange a few clear sets of Tupperware in your hands, lifting them evenly out of the bag. 

“Careful,” you jab, tossing him a mischievous grin. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

Kiyoomi shrugs. “It’s from you; I’ll like it.”

Your hands still after his declaration and you twist your head back to him, eyes wide, searching his placid expression. “Okay,” you laugh, setting the Tupperware aside, fully turning to him and wrapping an arm around his neck, your other hand cupping his cheek, pulling him down to your seeking lips. “That was too much. There some sort of class you stoic types take? How to make others swoon in five lessons, or less?”

“Don’t be stupid,” Kiyoomi rolls his eyes, prying your hands from him. “It’s true. No need to make a big deal about it. You put a lot of effort into today, and I...I just think that...I mean...thanks,” he finishes lamely, dark eyes balefully avoiding yours. You chuckle again and reward him with another peck to his cheek.  

“So cute.”

“Stop it,” he grumbles, a faint blush staining his cheeks. “Weren’t you gonna show me something? Better hurry. After all, there’s still time for me to mess it up.”

“What does that mean?” you puzzle, pulling away.

“I dunno. I always say the wrong shit. You know that.”

“Well,” you ponder, tapping a finger against your chin. “We’re at a baseball game, so, in the spirit of the sport, why don’t I give you three strikes?”

“Just three? I mean, wow, that’s so generous of you.”

You flash him a quick glare, tutting your tongue against the roof of your mouth. “Oooh, swing and a miss. Strike one!”

He’s just about to give you some retort when you press two of the containers into his hands. The heat of the plastic feels nice against his calloused palms, and he can see the fresh steam that surrounds the food that’s waiting inside. “Onigiri?” he questions, popping the lid, mouth watering at the sight of all of that pristine rice. Damn, when did you have time to make these?

“Homemade onigiri with pickled plums,” you inform him, a gleeful smile lighting up your face, pleased that he’s already reaching for one, a look of genuine happiness falling over his usually impassive expression.

“You remembered,” he murmurs, picking up the carefully shaped ball and lifting it to his lips. He bites into the fluffy rice, fastidiously letting the flavors fall over his tongue and across his pallet. It’s perfect, he thinks as he chews, just the right amount of pickled savoriness and clean, delicate grains. Damn, when did you do all of this?

You let him finish the first onigiri before you pass him a can of beer. It’s chilled, likely sitting toward the bottom of the bag, and he flicks a stray chip of ice off of the rim. A sealed can of beer, a carefully packed meal. Is there anything you haven’t thought of?

He’s just about to turn, to tell you that...well, he’s not sure what exactly. Maybe it is something about how lucky he is. How he’s somehow stumbled into something so sublime, so wonderful, as you, and how he should tell you that more, when you stand. 

“I’m going to hop down to the food stands. Inning should open up any minute. I’m glad this is an off season game, we’ve pretty much got this whole deck to ourselves! Be right back, ‘kay?”

He nods, eyes lingering on your hands, your smile, your eyes, just everything that he can see that’s you, but he doesn’t speak. He can’t. What’s he gonna say? Don’t go? Stay here. He’ll go down. 

He’ll do whatever you want; anything for you, anything.

You tilt your head at his stony, almost stricken expression, but you don’t comment on it, content with tucking one of his stray curls behind his ear before you spring up the steps, stepping away from his overwhelmed and utterly entranced form. 

Damn. 

He’s scrolling through his phone when the 1st inning ends, thumb whisking over the lists of required paperwork, the $50 dollar notarial fee, the Kon-in Todoke, mentally counting up the required signatures, the necessary witnesses. This is crazy, he thinks, skimming over the U.S. Embassy & Consulate regulations on the ‘Affidavit of Competency to Marry’ in Japan, he hasn’t even talked with you about this, but he’s honestly never felt more sure of anything in his life.

Right as he flips to a secondary tab, one that holds a few jewelry stores and ideas about ‘how to pop the question,’ he catches sight of you. You slide down the row of empty seats, your hands filled with various snacks and a tall glass of foaming beer. 

“Sorry! Wasn’t expecting to take that long, I completely missed the 1st inning! Good thing no one scored. Hopefully things will liven up with the 2nd and 3rd innings.” You settle in beside him, setting your beer against the cold concrete before jostling your popcorn and hot dog to your opposite hand, eyes peering over the brightly lit field. 

Kiyoomi bites back his grin and switches his phone off, obscuring the glittering pixels of diamonds and his future plans from view and tucks his device into his jacket pocket. You turn to look at him, your eyes narrowing and brow arching at his poorly controlled attempts to hide his giddiness. 

“What?” 

“Nothing,” he replies, slinging a long arm around your shoulders, tugging you close and planting a quick kiss against your temple.

“Liar,” you accuse, leaning back, eyes following the sharp angles of his handsome face.

“What made you pick baseball? You feeling homesick or something?”

“Hmph, no! I just...hmm, how to put this. I figured it’d be nice to take you to a game that’s not volleyball. One that we can just watch. There’s no need to worry about analyzing anyone’s performance, or your own here…you can just relax.”

Kiyoomi cocks his head at you, a few errant curls falling over his brow. “Do I do that when we go to a volleyball game?”

You nearly choke on your beer. “Mmm...koff...do you do that? Did you seriously just ask me that?”

“Yeah,” he affirms, obsidian eyes watching you closely. Wait, is he a pain to go to a game with?

“Kiyoomi?”

“Hmm.”

“I wasn’t about to take you to a volleyball game for your birthday. That’d be like you taking me back to the office and asking me to celebrate with you in the staff break room. I mean, I know you love the sport, but it’s your job. It’s what you do all day. Besides, the last time we went to a match I don’t think you said more than five words to me and you were constantly writing down the plays on your phone. I–Oh! That’s not a bad thing, not at all! It makes sense,” you amend, catching sight of his abruptly ashen expression. 

“It’s just...you’re good...no good doesn’t cut it...you’re amazing at what you do. You’ve got that hunger that all the sports documentaries I’ve ever watched talk about and you’re constantly looking to improve. It’s impressive, really! But...I just thought this might be a change of pace. Something that we could both go to, could watch, with no additional stakes. Who cares who wins? I mean, I want the home team to, obviously, but we can leave here when it’s over and just take memories, not more worries or challenges. And definitely not any notes. Sorry, that prolly’ sounds so rude, but I really want you to relax today. You more than deserve it.”

“It’s perfect,” Kiyoomi confirms, finally leaning back against the strong plastic of his seat, pulling you closer, bringing his knee toward your thigh, pressing until he can feel the heat of you past the material of his jeans. “Thank you.”

“No need to thank me,” you laugh. “It’s the least I could do. If you’re happy, then I’m happy! Oh! Speaking of, you gotta try this beer! It’s so good!”

He looks skeptically down at the plastic glass that’s still clutched between your fingers. “No. I’m not drinking out of that cup.”

“Kiyoomi,” you begin, fixing him with a hard stare. “You know we live together, right? If I pick anything up from this, then, and I hate to tell you this, but you’ll get it too, eventually.”

With a scoffed exhale and a curl of his lip he leans away from you, nose wrinkling distastefully at your threat.

“Come on,” you taunt, shaking the cup playfully in your hand, “You won’t regret it!”

“No.”

“Ugh, you’re no fun, you know that?”

“Never heard that before,” he laughs, coiling himself toward you, his arm around your back, squeezing you closer, holding on as tight as he can. 

It’s dark when the two of you get back home, but you won’t let him flip on the overhead lights, not yet. “Just wait, gimme a sec. There’s one more thing I wanna do...why don’t you go sit on the couch. I’ll turn on the lamp and be right back, promise.”

Obediently, he perches on the edge of the cushions and waits. 

He can hear you as you move around the kitchen, and he feels like he can still feel the warmth of your skin under his fingertips. Throughout the game, on the cab ride home, as he stood behind you in the darkened hallway, waiting for you to unlock the door, he’d kept his hands on you. It was like you were some kind of magnet and he couldn’t help but be tugged forward by your irresistible pull. 

“Hey! Close your eyes!” you call, feet soft against the wood as you pad back to him. He shakes his head at your request, a faint smile pulling at his lips, but he obliges you. How can he not? “No peeking,” you warn, and he it’s like he can almost feel you again as you come to stand in front of him once more. “Alright…I think that’s good. Now...open them!”

The space in front of him is bathed in a soft glow, with whisking yellows and gentle oranges dancing, flickering across your arms. The light from the candle illuminates your face, catching against your eyes and making them shine, and he’s honestly not sure if he’s breathing anymore. 

“I know it’s not much,” you justify, cupping your fingers around the delicate flame and lifting the cupcake toward him. “But I learned my lesson last year. Got you that huge cake and the leftovers languished in the fridge for almost a week. And you know what they say, less is more, right?”

Without thinking, his hands race forward, gripping your waist and pulling you closer. “Woah,” you exhale, a laugh bubbling from your lips. “Careful! I don’t wanna catch you on fire. Some birthday that would be. Come on, time’s a’wasting birthday boy, blow it out and make a wish!”

He’d lied earlier. 

When he’d thought that there was nothing special about birthdays. There is something special about this birthday and, for the first time, he knows just what he’s going to wish for. 

It’s easy to blow out the light. It’s a little harder to protect the cupcake from his downward tug, his hands insistent, firm, but somehow you safely tuck it behind you and twist back to him, fingers lacing into his onyx curls. 

“What did you wish for?” you ask, settling yourself across his lap.

“Can’t tell you yet,” Kiyoomi answers honestly, lips already seeking yours.

“Huh? You’re not supposed to tell me at all!”

“Too bad,” he intones, silencing any further retorts with the heady persuasion of his caresses and wandering touch. “I’m gonna tell you soon. Now let me enjoy you.”

notes: hbd! shoutout to @albinoburrito for her excellent edits and suggestions :*

[todourouki]

Misery Business | K. Bakugou

a one shot

✰ SUMMARY the one where you didn’t mean to take the hothead away from his girlfriend, but you did anyway. It was nothing personal, you just knew that Bakugou Katsuki deserved way better than what he was settling for.

PAIRING Taken/Pro-Hero!Bakugou & Fem!Reader

WORD COUNT 4.6K

WARNINGS explicit language, mentions of cheating, cheating lol, suggestive language, angst, and some fluff at the end bc I cannot end my fics in a bad way I am weak sorry!

You were not a home wrecker.

At least, you wouldn’t say that to your own face.

You knew that the crush you had on Bakugou was wrong. You know that no matter how it is that you put it, or however strong your feelings are, or even however long you’ve even had feelings— liking a guy in a relationship was a huge no-no.

You weren’t the kind of girl to go around liking a girl’s boyfriend, though. It’s not like your feelings magically appeared out of thin air and now you’re stuck falling inlove with a guy that finds solitude in someone else— no, you aren’t like that.

Your feelings for Bakugou are much more complex, to say the least.

It all started in high school, when just the mere thought of the boy brought butterflies to your stomach with how strong and courageous he was. From his attractive face, to his blunt and explosive personality, you always found yourself admiring him when given the chance.

All of that went to shit when he decided to finally give one of the girls that were always fawning over him a chance during the beginning of your third year attending Yuuei Academy.

It was like you had gotten punched in the face, and now it feels like you’re just purposely getting stabbing in the heart every time you did as much as look at them.

That definitely explains why you’re sulking at your table during a school dance with a scowl on your face so you don’t have to see the happy couple waltz around the cafeteria floor.

All the top Pro-Heroes were assigned to attend the dance as academy alumni in order to ensure the safety of the students (as well as make sure students even decided to show up). You, being one of the top five heroes, were ordered to show up with no complaints.

The song currently playing finally changed from a low-tempo song to a much higher one, and with that, you decided to make that your imaginary queue to take a walk around the school’s building before returning to the large decorated area.

Your heel-clad feet dragged you all the way across the gymnasium, sending kids smiles if they were in your way and simply telling them that you were “getting some fresh air before the real fun starts.”

The doors slammed shut, and the solitude of the hallways engulfed in dark hues reflected against your strained eyes in a way that made you have to physically restrain your hand from harshly rubbing at it in order to make sure your make up stood intact.

The halls reminded you of a younger you (and by younger, you mean two years. you’re only 20 and already have the mind of some old hag) that used to run through these halls with a mini little green skirt and an imagination you wish you could still understand.

They also reminded you of the blond boy inside. Especially the room you stood in front of right now.

Almost as if it was second nature, your body made its way to Class 1-A: the place where it all began, the place where you met your closest friends, and the place where you fell inlove.

Opening the door, the lights turned on to reveal a classroom almost identical to the one you walked into every day four years ago. The desks were positioned the same, the posters remained in the same spot, and even the words on the chalkboard seemed oddly familiar.

The room reeked of new paint and textbook papers, and the only thing you really wanted to smell was the designer perfume clinging helplessly to your body so the odors of a high school class don’t even think twice about sticking to you.

Your body walked towards your old desk, Seat 12, the dress you wore clinging to your body as you pulled the chair out and nostalgically sat down. You were a first year all over again, and the thought made you laugh.

You looked embarrassing your first year— as embarrassing as someone who looks like you now can get. From the hideously overheated hair, to the emo phase you still seemed to sort of be stuck in, the world seemed too easy no matter what bullshit was going on the minute you sat down at that desk.

That explained how you felt now— no matter how much your heart yearned to be in the hands of Bakugou, the minute the cold sturdiness of the chair touched your warm body, all of that disappeared. For once, nothing in the world mattered. More precisely, Bakugou didn’t matter.

“Tch, I knew you’d be in here.” Annnddd there goes that.

Your eyes widened, now staring at a smirking blond wearing a black and white tux instead of the chalkboard you once zoned out on.

His arms were crossed against his muscular chest, and the muscles outlined the button up shirt in a way that should just be downright illegal. His face was gleaming with mischief, slowly walking his way over to the empty desk directly next to yours, taking a seat, and positioning his body in a lazy manner with his legs propped up against the table. Just like before.

“You know, this brings back a lot of shitty memories.” He grunted, stretching his arms behind his head and lolling his head to face you.

You nodded in response, glancing your head up to look at the lights in a way to move the gears in your brain to say something. Literally the same thing you used to do during Midnight’s long, tedious classes.

“Yea, a bunch of ones I’d much rather forget.” You said, looking over at him and watching as his eyes stared directly at the window you always found him staring out of when he wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone in class.

“Always hearing your annoying ass mumble and suck your teeth used to really piss me off.” His words were masked with seriousness, trying to hide the playful smirk on his lips you identified much too quickly. With that, a scoff left your lips and you crossed your arms.

“Nobody said anything about the pencil you insisted on tapping for hours straight.” Your jab back made him chuckle, looking back at you with vermillion eyes that made you lose all sense of feelings.

Your breath caught in your throat, and you always forgot what it was like to look at anything before you looked into his eyes. That’s how scary it was— how intimidating it was to be under his presence. His eyes captured you, holding you hostage and probably never letting you go.

“At least we didn’t sit next to each other during our third year,” he began, placing a hand loosely around his tie as he continued to look at you in your eyes, “I don’t think I would have ever focused with the humming you did to the same damn song every day.”

“Yeah, instead of me though, you ended up sitting with your future wife.”

Stupid, stupid, stupid, STUPID.

It was like word vomit, the snarky tone slipping through your lips as if it was trying its hardest to come off in a jokingly manner, only ending up appearing as sarcastic as possible. It was like the words fell from your tongue quicker than you could punch your own esophagus.

Bakugou stood quiet for a moment, staring at you and knitting his eyebrows together as if deep in thought. Your eyes ended up leading you back to the words Relief Fund written messily against the green chalkboard to save your embarrassment.

You didn’t see the frown itching across Bakugou’s lips.

“We aren’t married, ya know. I don’t know why people decided to start that rumor.” He said, a sigh passing by his lips to quiet his tone as if he was scared his girlfriend was around to hear it.

“Might as well marry her. You’re not really the kind of guy that dates just to date.” Your words struck hesitantly in the room in a timid yet informative voice, and Bakugou watched the board as well so that you were both avoiding each other’s gaze.

“Yeah well I’m not sure, marriage is a big deal.” Bakugou was muttering, and the tone of his voice made you crane your neck over to where he was seated as you stood quiet.

What were you, someone who was basically inlove with him, supposed to say that?

You both stood in silence for a few seconds, the words in your throat itching to escape as the remnants of memories you both had both in class and just together in general filled your vision.

“I always hated this seat because I knew it meant that I would always be the person you would argue with.” You began, closing your eyes and releasing a strained scoff from your glossed lips.

You didn’t know what you were doing, or what you were talking about, but as the moon danced across the pale boy’s face and the music in the cafeteria continued to gently ring through the halls, the only thing you were thinking about doing was speaking more than you ever have.

“Morning after morning, I grew used to your loud voice and extremely hostile—” “HAH? I was NOT—”

You sent him a glare, immediately cutting him off and proceeding your weird speech that just couldn’t let anything go.

“Anyways, morning after morning, I ended up looking forward to the words you decided to call me and yell at me about for the day. It’s like, if it didn’t happen,” your arms moved in an animated way, catching Katsuki’s full attention as he looked on to your rant, “I felt like my day wasn’t really an actual day, ya know?

The one thing you loved appreciated most about Bakugou was his ability to listen. And when you say listen, you mean just listen. His ears were perked up in your direction, shoes turned towards you and eyes watching your movements like a hawk.

“And then—” you gulped, pausing for a second in order to think your words though. It was always now or never to you, the drama giving you a sense of hope against a man like that.

It’s either I bring it up now, or I never get to speak my peace, and I refuse to be one of those people showing up to the wedding yelling ‘I oppose.’

“And then it was here that I realized I was the biggest idiot alive by feeling the way I felt about this one person.” You said, eyes glaring at the wall in front of you blankly as you cowered behind the whisps of your lashes.

Bakugou said nothing, but from the corner of you eye, you could see him staring at the side of your face with an expression you had never really see on him.

“I spent years pining after some dumbass that didn’t even see the genuine interest I had in him.” Your words were like alcohol, and Bakugou was too busy drinking them all in to fully acknowledge what you were talking about.

“I watched him give in to this one girl though,” a lightbulb when off in the boy’s head and for once, he felt like the idiot in the room, “a girl that doesn’t even care for him.”

“Y/N..” Bakugou growled, almost as if he was threatening you and warning you to tread on light waters.

If there was one thing he ever respected about you though, it was that you were never scared of him.

Your eyes snapped towards him, a scowl on your face as you began to feel anger bubbling up in your stomach from the way he tried to shut you up. You were finally speaking your peace and he’s too much of a coward to let you finish?

“You know, I thought the first red flag of her trying to change his attitude was enough. I thought that maybe, just maybe, after her telling him that being number one hero wasn’t really tangible, he’d have some common fucking sense and see what everyone else sees.” Your words were like venom, your eyes not leaving his as you huffed in your seat.

“You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.” Bakugou’s voice was low and angry, laced with anger as he stared at you just as intensely as you stared at him. Your expression never faltered, and instead, you turned your entire body around in the chair to fully face him with arms across your chest.

“I know exactly what the fuck I’m talking about,” you taunted, your anger only rising in value, “and so the fuck do you, Bakugou.”

“You know she doesn’t give a fuck about you and you know very fucking well she’s only with you because you’re Bakugou Katsuki!”

His name slipping off your tongue brought shivers to his spine as he sat up in his seat and glared at you with the tip of his ears painting themselves a light red hue.

He was angry— not necessarily at you, but at the fact that he was getting called out for something like this. He was getting called out for finally being with a girl and was getting shit for it from someone he saw as a best friend.

“You don’t know shit— you don’t even fucking know her.” His voice began to get louder, the bass in his voice causing your heart to vibrate as you shocked both you and him by slamming a hand against the desk in frustration.

“For God’s sake, Katsuki open your fucking eyes!” You only used his first name when your emotions were high, and that made the man’s hands shake in anger as he watched your outburst.

“She forgot your anniversary! She doesn’t make you your favorite food— fuck she doesn’t even kiss you unless there’s a shitty camera around!” You stood up, stomping your feet and watching as he stood up quickly after you and scowled over at your angry face.

“She doesn’t care enough to remember shit that you don’t like which is why you always end up at stupid shit like this and she doesn’t even care to meet your friends!” Your voice was now loud, the music of the cafeteria being long forgotten as you huffed over at him and slammed a finger into his chest at every syllable you spoke.

“You want to know what I think about her, Bakugou? Bestfriend to bestfriend?” The words bestfriend seethed through your lips like venom as your finger dug itself into the middle of his pecks. He said nothing, waiting for you to continue as his hands balled into fists along his sides.

“I think that you’re such a fucking pussy, you can’t fathom being with someone who doesn’t worship the ground you walk on the way she does.” You growled, narrowing your eyes at his angry expression as you took a step closer to him threateningly.

“I think you hate the fact that I’m right— the fact that she blatantly uses you and doesn’t give a fuck about you, and you hate the fact that I know you so well enough to know that—”

Before the last few letters of the words could slip through your lips, a warm hand slammed against your fingers and snatched it into his grasp as he began to huff in anger. The caramel smell only increased, and you could sense his quirk begin to flare the abnormal heat in his hands up every second.

“You don’t know shit,” he growled, his voice raising as he began to yell at you in your face, “you don’t know shit about me!”

“Are you shitting me?!” You exclaimed, grabbing at the hand that grasped yours with a grip so tight Bakugou had to glance at it quickly before reverting his eyes back to yours.

“I’ve known every little fucking thing about you since we were fifteen!” You yelled, tears threatening to spill down your eyes as the anger inside you finally erupted in a way you couldn’t control.

“Nobody asked you to be so invested in my fucking life anyway!” He retaliated, his voice booming through the room as you stared at him incredulously.

“I was so fucking invested in you because I’m fucking inlove with you, you idiot!”

Your voice silenced the room, the grip he had on your hand tightening as he stared at you with shocked eyes yet the same familiar scowl you were used to. Your expression never faltered the way his eyes did when he heard you, though. You stood your ground.

“It’s so annoying seeing the guy you are inlove with be so unhappy in a relationship because he feels as if he has no one else.” Your voice began to quiet down, a tear slipping down your eye as Bakugou watched you with a slightly softened face.

The hand gripping yours loosened a bit, still gripping it to his chest as he wrapped all his fingers around your bracelet covered wrist.

“It’s so annoying watching you try to force someone else to fall inlove with you, when I’ve been inlove with you for free for years. It hurts watching you try to force yourself to be inlove with a girl you know you don’t want to be with. It just fucking hurts Bakugou, so fucking bad.”

There was a crack in your voice that Bakugou knew all too well from the restless nights you’d spend together, and it didn’t take much for him to engulf your frame into a tight hug as he rested his head against yours. You dived into his chest, the familiar warmth wrapping around you in a way that made a few more tears slip from your eyes. You didn’t make a noise, but he knew that you were hurting.

Neither of you said anything, only holding each other until you removed yourself from him and wiped the tears off your face before he could see the evident streams marking your cheeks. He stared at you silently, as if he was contemplating something.

With timid eyes, he watched you fix the straps of your dress to find something to play with under his gaze. The silence was deafening, and was an unusual characteristic for the boy who always had something to say.

“You know she hates me, that’s why you never bring her around me.” You said, a tone of blankness carrying your voice through the room as your tears dried up and was replaced by the anger haunting your heart once again.

“No she doesn’t, she just feels like we’re too close.” Bakugou retorted, sighing and taking a seat on the chair he once occupied. You followed suit, leaning against the back of your own seat as you faced his body.

“Back in high school, I never told you this, but her and I argued in the bathroom once.” You informed, dryly chuckling as you watched his face contort with confusion.

“I told her that her pretty little face and fucked up manipulation wasn’t going to keep you around in the long run.” You stood quiet after letting him know, gulping some saliva down as you averted your gaze from his body to your painted nails. “Guess I was wrong.”

Bakugou didn’t know what to do. There were many things the man was capable of: he could destroy any villain in his way, was braver than any other fucking half assed hero out there, was smart as fuck, and could manage a relationship as well as being a top pro-hero because that’s just who he was.

What he couldn’t do, though, was fully digest the situation in front of him.

He bit his lip, running a hand across his face in frustration and staring meekly at your face. You couldn’t help but admire his frame as you did before. He was strong, well-built, smelled good, had great posture— there was nothing wrong with him. It was almost surreal.

“We’ve been dating for like two years.” Bakugou’s low voice broke the silence as he stared deep into your now glazed over eyes. You didn’t break the contact, hands rested against each side of the seat as you watched him speak.

“I’ve been dating her for two years and yet...” His words were lost, almost sounding as if he was hesitating the very same way you were earlier. You said nothing though, knowing he would stop expressing himself if you had opened your mouth.

“And yet I can’t help but imagine she was someone else.”

It was like every word he said was the last glass of water, and you drank it up against your skin in a way that brought goosebumps to his. You furrowed your eyebrows, silently signaling for him to continue.

“I never told you this,” he mocked your voice, his scowl still resting against his soft face, “but there was a time where I thought about what it would be like if we were a shitty thing.”

Everyone always assumed Bakugou and you would end up together. Whether it be from watching you both pin are each other relentlessly, to watching you fawn over him, and from just watching your interactions with one another— it almost seemed destined for you two to work out. Keyword: almost.

“Shitty Hair and Dunce-Face tell me all the fucking time that I’m an idiot for choosing this girl over you.” He scoffed, and you couldn’t help but feel your stomach tingle at the use of the name ‘this girl’ for his own girlfriend. “It’s not like I wanted to, you were always my first option.”

You stood quiet. The last sentence was lower than the others and sounded way more vulnerable. You couldn’t help but gape at him, repeating it in your brain as if they was the last words you’d ever hear again. You were always my first option.

Maybe it was the buzz you felt from the energy within the room, maybe you were drunk on adrenaline, or maybe you were just being a fucking dumbass, but the way your feet moved you from your seat to the desk he was sitting at was something you just couldn’t stop in time.

Bakugou hasn’t said anything beyond what he just finished as he watched you gently push his body away and hop up onto the desk. Your body was now inches away from his as you watched him shyly. You were always so obnoxiously close to him, so why is it that his stomach was throwing fireballs at his insides now?

“You deserve better, Katsu..” You lowly began, fiddling with the rings on your fingers as you glanced over at his body through your dark eyelashes. “Does she take care of you?”

Your words hit him in the chest and he couldn’t find it within himself to look away from you. He wasn’t sure what it was, or how you were doing it, but he was entranced by your every word and it was scaring the shit out of him. He found himself shaking his head, eyes never leaving yours as the scowl in his face began to soften.

“You’re a strong man, Katsu,” the way his nickname slipped from your lips nearly made him melt, the unfamiliar feelings he was so used to suppressing caused his head to jumble around and process your words, “you need someone who takes care of you the right way.”

You watched him, a hand lifting towards his head and running itself through his soft yet spikey hair. Bakugou always claimed he hated it when you played with his hair since that was something he thought no one was close enough to be able to touch, but he always seemed to lean into you unknowingly.

His chair scooted closer to the table, your legs now in between his lazily opened ones and his body aching to go closer into your touch.

“What are you suggesting?” His dark voice questioned, eyes staring at you as the once softened expression transformed into another of a slowly rising mischievous smirk. You were sure you were breathing earlier, but now? Not so much.

“Are you suggesting that I need someone else to take care of me?” His words hit you hard, your body facing whiplash from all the sudden changes of emotion.

You looked down shyly, trying to find the confidence you once had that was now lost in the gush of your flustered moment, yet Bakugou’s calloused, warm hand then reached up to your chin to perk it up to face his now standing body.

“Are you saying that you should be the one taking care of me?” He asked, staring at your eyes with more intensity than you were fully even prepared for. Your eyes dug into his as the feeling of his hands on your chin caused your brain to short circuit for a moment.

“You said it yourself, I’m a strong man.” You could feel the confidence drip from his words as you bit your left cheek to keep from whimpering at the intensity laced within the empty classroom. “I need someone to take care of me the right way, and I don’t think this girl is doing it Y/N.”

The use of your name caused you to tug your bottom lip between your teeth and blush behind his words. You didn’t miss the way his eyes quickly zipped from your eyes to your mouth, and back to your eyes once again. His body was now towering over your seated one, looking down at you as if you were the only person in the world at this moment.

Bakugou was out of it, to say the least. Usually he felt as if he had control over situations like this, but even with towering over your frame and his hand gripping your chin, he felt as if you were in complete control of the situation. He knew that his current girlfriend was probably coming to look for him, and he knew that everything was inevitable and he was simply just prolonging it.

That didn’t stop him from sliding his hand across your neck to grip the back of it and pull your face in towards him.

A kiss was the last thing you were expecting, and you would have gasped if his lips weren’t putting you in such a trance. It was like everything had stopped, time stopped, the dance stopped, everything was just on a hiatus.

His tongue danced against yours in a way that made you whimper lowly into his touch. His hands explored your body, rubbing against you in exasperated motions as you reciprocated by rubbing your hands across his chest, shoulders, and waist. It was like you were both doing the last thing you’d do before the world came to an end.

His lips moved feverishly across your own as tilted your head upwards to get a more comfortable position. A warm yet equally rough hand snaked it’s way back onto your neck and gripped your throat with such possession, you felt a tingle reach your lower half.

The intensity of the make out was one that put every other sound to shame as the room was filled with nothing but the small whimpers coming from either of you and the sound of your lips smacking against his. It was like a dream, and Bakugou couldn’t control himself any longer as he groaned into your touch.

It wasn’t until a gasp broke the seductive silence within the room, as well as pushed the two of you apart only to see his girlfriend staring at the two of you with wide eyes and a fizzy drink in both of her hands., that you realized something.

Shit just got really fucking complicated.

—

back to masterlist

I wanna have an angsty kiss moment with bakugou

>:( damnit anyways yeah like, reblog, comment, follow! thanks for reading! don’t forget to send some requests in <3

- heilly

[witchygagirlwrites]

Second Chance

After a rough split is a second chance possible (tiny smidge of steamy)

You chanced a look at the clock and groaned when you saw it was a little before two. You’d been tossing and turning for hours chasing sleep that was sure to elude you yet another night. Antonio would be by in the morning with strong coffee in tow and no questions. Sometimes it benefited you with having your best friend’s brother as a partner. He’d learned not to ask once the date that was supposed to mark your wedding had passed.

Months had passed since you and Kelly split. It was hard to try to be civil with each other so on jobs where fifty one and intelligence ended up working together you’d navigate towards Casey and Gabby for any questions you needed answered and Antonio would talk to Kelly if need be.

If you were being honest with yourself you still loved him just as much as the day you’d thrown the ring at him and told him to get out of your apartment and your life. The two of you had gotten engaged before Shay died but her death combined with you burying a partner right before your transfer to intelligence had put too much of a strain on your relationship.

Both of you wrapped your pain around yourselves like armor refusing to let anyone in. You stopped talking, stopped touching and you ended up moving completely back into your place not leaving so much as a change of clothes at Kelly’s. The night that everything blew up was actually your anniversary. You’d gotten wrapped up in a case that had left bodies from Chicago to New York and ended up completely forgetting what the day was.

He showed up to the district to ask why you hadn’t answered any of his calls or texts but you hadn’t even checked your phone because for one your attention was on the case and for two he hadn’t been attentive in weeks you hadn’t thought some switch would flip to make him open back up to you. When you told him you weren’t talking about it at work he made plans to come by your place that night.

By the time you made it home you were exhausted and sore from catching a few rounds in the vest. Luckily it hadn’t went through and nothing was broke but it still hurt like hell. You had just collapsed onto the couch when Kelly used his spare key to let himself in.

You glanced up to see he looked as exhausted as you felt and started to suggest putting off talking until you both felt more like it but when he sat down on the couch next to you the dam of emotions you’d spent so long building up broke free and your mouth started moving of it’s own accord “Kelly I love you but I can’t keep doing this. We barely talk. When we do spend the night together it’s not like it used to be. I’m tired. I can only keep up one fight at a time and my job is hard enough without this resting on my head. I can’t go into a firefight and be thinking about our next argument. I want to be with you but we’ve got to meet each other halfway. I’m at fault too but something has got to change”

Kelly’s face had fallen into the hard mask like he wore before walking into a burning building. It was devoid of emotion so no one would know what was really going on in his head as he nodded and stood up “Good you saved me the words. This hasn’t worked for a while and I didn’t know how to say it” your heart had fallen to your feet. He wasn’t even willing to try to meet you halfway. He laid your key down on the coffee table and you stared at it for a few seconds feeling your tears dry on your cheeks as the warmth of anger started to sink into your veins.

You stood up and pulled the ring off your left hand “If this isn’t even worth trying to you. If years of our lives mean nothing take this damn ring and get the hell out my apartment and forget you ever knew me” you threw it at his face and spun around quickly crossing the floor and slamming the bedroom door behind you. You waited until you heard the front door slam before sliding down to the floor staring at your bed where so many nights you’d spent in Kelly’s arms.

——————–

The next time you’d seen Kelly had been weeks later one friday night at Molly’s. You were sitting with Antonio, Sylvie and Gabby when he walked in with Matt. You knew from the glare Gabby shot Matt he hadn’t told her Kelly would be there.

You turned your attention to Sylvie silently begging her to keep the conversation flowing so she started talking about a call her and Gabby had went on a few days before. You could feel Kelly’s eyes on you when he walked up with Matt so you raised your eyes slowly and weren’t surprised to see him staring at you “Hey Kelly” you said quietly and he nodded “Y/N. You look good”

You half smiled feelings tears start to form in your eyes and blinked a few times while you stared at your drink to clear them away. Here he was within arm’s reach and didn’t even seemed effected by you at least not the way you were by him. You half listened to the conversation around you, trying to think of a graceful way to run out of Molly’s and away from your ex fiance before Antonio looked between you and Sylvie “Well ladies how about I drive you both home?” You shot him a small grateful smile “Thanks Toni” you kissed Gabby on the cheek then followed Sylvie out trying to ignore the way Kelly’s eyes tracked your movement.

You were silent in Antonio’s back seat the whole way to your apartment until Sylvie turned halfway around to look at you “Are you going to be ok? I can stay if you want?” “Me too partner you know I’ve got your back” Antonio added but you shook your head “No I’m ok. I’ve got to get used to seeing him. Fire and PD works too close and we run in the same circles. I can handle it”

——————-

You were pulled out your thoughts by the phone on your nightstand dinging with a message. Who the hell was texting you at this time of night?

You reached out for it expecting it to be an alert from possibly Hank or Antonio telling you a case had come up but your heart nearly stopped when you recognized the number even if you’d deleted it out your phone to avoid the temptation of texting it once alcohol hit your system. You clicked the alert and closed your eyes against the flood of emotion after you read those three simple words “I miss you”

You took a deep breath and opened your eyes hitting the call button above his text. You had to know if he was sober, if he meant it because it was the only thought that ever rang through your head at since the last night you’d spent with him.Thoughts of that night filled your head as the phone rang.

——————–

Intelligence had been after an arsonist who only sat fires to habited buildings. There was two bodies on the ground and numerous injured with the chances of that number growing higher the long he was on the street. You and Antonio had responded to a call from one of his c.i.s and found the guy. Unfortunately he’d already lit up the building. Antonio managed to get the kill shot on him but the two of you were stuck in a building that was basically a tinder box. There was no way out.

The two of you tried to pick your way out the building but a beam fell blocking your path. You knew Hank would get there and call CFD but the question was if they could make it in enough time. You and Antonio stayed crouched low holding jacket over your faces and trying to stay calm to control your breathing enough that smoke inhalation would at least be delayed.

When your chest started getting tight and breathing was a labor you reached out and grabbed Antonio’s hand. Something to try to anchor yourself. Just when you were praying that if this was the end that you’d die before the flames reached you a loud crack was heard just to your left and you heard Kelly “FIRE DEPARTMENT CALL OUT" 

Next thing you knew Gabby was telling you to breath and you were laying on a stretcher. You pushed yourself up to a sitting position and saw Antonio sitting next to you with an oxygen mask on as well. "What the hell happened?” You asked pushing yours off despite Gabby’s objections.

“Well my best friend and my brother nearly died in a fucking fire for one!” When you saw the horror of what could have happened pass over her face you leaned back and let her put the mask back on and heard Antonio mumble “Good girl”

To appease Hank and Chief Boden you went along with the run to med. Luckily it didn’t take long to determine that while you both would be sore for a few days and have a lingering cough you were free to go home.

After Gabby dropped you off at the precinct to pick up your car you weren’t sure what came over you. Matt, Otis, Herrman, Cruz hell damn near all of fifty one had ended up checking on you except for Kelly. Maybe it was the left over adrenaline from the brush with death or maybe it was so much that hadn’t been said that lead you to drive to his apartment instead of your own.

You parked next to his mustang and made your way up to his place. It wasn’t until you were knocking that you thought about what you would actually say when he opened the door.

When he opened the door the look of relief in his eyes at seeing you stirred a completely different emotion in you. You launched yourself into his arms and crashed your lips against his in a hungry kiss that held everything you couldn’t put into words. You’d nearly died and you were pissed he hadn’t come to check on you yet being in his arms just felt right.

He pulled back after a moment clearly struggling as he met your eyes “Y/N seeing you like that” you could see the unshed tears in his eyes as he trailed off so you quieted him with another kiss “Kelly I don’t want to talk” he nodded and pulled you back to him as he backed into the apartment and shut the door behind the two of you.

Once the door was shut your back was pressed up against it with Kelly’s lips leaving a trail of open mouth kisses down your neck “Baby I..” He tried but you shook your head and pulled back far enough to pull your shirt over your head then reach for his own “No talking” you repeated before his hands went down to your lower back and he picked you up into his arms leaving you no option but to wrap your legs around his waist.

You moaned loudly when his lips found the spot on your neck he knew made you weak and he gave a sharp thrust of his hips letting you feel the way his body still reacted to yours. “Bed now” you managed to get out between gasps as his lips moved lower to nip gently at your breasts through the thin material of your bra.

He turned to head towards his bedroom never letting his lips leave your skin. When he dropped you onto the bed you met his eyes as he glanced down at your jeans asking for consent. You didn’t break eye contact as you pulled your bra off then unbuckled your jeans and started to wiggle them off your hips smiling when he reached to help you pull them off.

“Well Severide gonna do something or stare at me?” You taunted remembering the words from the very first time the two of you had slept together. The smile he gave you said he remembered as well. “Oh I’m gonna do a lot more than stare” he said before dipping his head down to your thighs leaving kisses along the left one trailing up just short of where you needed him before doing the same to the right. “Kelly please” you finally begged and that was all it took as he finally connected his mouth to your core licking a solid line up it and groaned against you when you moaned his name.

He slid one finger in curling it up inside of you barely brushing that certain spot he knew would make you come undone before sliding a second one in while his tongue worked against your swollen clit savoring every whimper and sigh he managed to pull out of you. “Kelly” you moaned tugging on his hair pleading for him to show attention to that one spot and he more than willingly obliged pumping his fingers inside of you in faster every movement hitting that spot that made you see stars. “Oh god yes. Right there Kel. Please don’t stop” you begged as he moved back up to catch your lips with his letting you taste yourself on him,fingers never slowing as he fucked into you feeling you get closer. When you finally came hips bucking up off the bed with the force of your orgasm he finally slowed his motions easing you through the high.

You reached for his shoulders and pulled him back fully on top of you and nearly growled “get your jeans off and get inside me” “I thought you said no talking” he threw back at you before pushing his jeans off to the floor and climbing back up your body leaving a trail of kisses from your hip all the way up to your collarbone finally ended with a teasingly slow kiss to your lips. Your nails dug into his shoulders as you asked “Condom?” And he was already reaching for a box out the night stand.

“Are you sure?” He asked once he was lined up with your entrance so you hooked your leg around his hip pulling him down to you and felt him chuckle as he slowly slid into you giving you time to adjust to him. Once he was bottomed out you reached up to give him an open mouthed kiss rolling your tongue against his when he finally started to move. He pulled almost all the way out before slamming back into you.

“Fuck baby. You feel so amazing. I missed this” he groaned as he fucked into you. Your nails dug into his back as you felt your second orgasm approaching “Kelly…Oh my god yes” you moaned out before the pleasure washed you under a loud moan of his name falling from your lips as you came and felt his thrusts go erratic before he gave a final hard thrust followed by small twitches of his body as he came while moaning your name.

After a second he pulled out of you and smiled when you whined lightly “Sorry baby” he apologized and left a gentle kiss on your lips before stepping out the bed to dispose of the condom. When he came back he pulled you to his chest and you let him. The familiarity of the action was too strong to ignore.

You fell asleep in that position and woke up a few hours later with his chest pressed firmly against your back. All the insecurities started raining down on you at once. He hadn’t wanted to fight for your relationship. He hadn’t come to the hospital to check on you and when you’d seen him out he hadn’t seemed that effected by the split..not to mention he still had condoms in his side table?

You managed to slip out the bed without waking him and quickly slipped your clothes on not even bothering to put your shoes on until you were in the elevator heading down out his apartment.

The next morning you’d had coffee with Gabby and told her what happened then begged for help on running interference until you could be sure you wouldn’t fall back into Kelly’s bed. You had to protect your heart from him even if it meant breaking it yourself.

——————-

Since that night you’d avoided him. He’d called and texted. Hell he even called Antonio but after Antonio told him you were ok just needed space he’d back off so why was he texting you at two in the morning?

When he finally answered the first words out his mouth were “I’m sober” as if he could read your mind. “Then why aren’t you asleep at two in the morning Kel?” You asked with a humorless laugh because why weren’t you asleep at two in the morning?

“I was thinking about the first halloween we were together. We went to that costume party then you and Shay piled up in her room to watch horror movies. I found the two of you at like four in the morning wrapped around each other because you’d managed to freak yourselves out and didn’t want to wake me and admit it” Shay had teased Kelly for a week that a few more horror movie marathons and she could steal you away.

“Yea she told everyone at fifty one she’d made me scream louder than you but it was because she’d insisted on that Austrian movie which was the scariest shit I’ve ever seen” you said with a laugh and you could almost see the smile on his face when he sighed and said “God I’ve missed hearing your laugh”

“Kelly. Why did you really call?” You asked not wanting to snap at him but not having it in you to keep up casual conversation with a man who owned so much of your heart to this day. “I finally got Gabby to tell me why you left the morning after that fire and haven’t talked to me since” he admitted and you covered your eyes with your hand trying to stow off the embarrassment you felt.

“I know it was just sex to you Kelly…” You were cut off at that point by him calling your name almost harshly. You were stunned for a moment before he repeated gently this time “Y/N baby please just listen to what I have to say then if you want to never speak to me again so be it” you nodded then realized he couldn’t see you so you said “Go ahead”

“So much has gone wrong between us. Shay and Michelson dying so close together. Both of us refusing to break, to let each other in. If I could go back and change it I would. She’d kick my ass if she knew I let you slip through my fingers. That day when we busted that wall down and found you and Antonio… I couldn’t think straight. I got into a fight with Matt and Boden sent me home. I had tried for hours to think of what to say to you so I could call then you ended up at my door.”

He hesitated for a moment and you weren’t sure if you should say anything so you remained quiet until he continued “There has never been a single time between us that was just sex. I love you Y/N. I still want to somehow get back to the point of being able to spend the rest of my life with you. That night I honestly thought either it would be a chance for us to start over but then I woke up and you were gone. I begged Gabby and Antonio both to tell me what I’d done but the Dawsons are both firmly in your corner but tonight I guessed Gabby just finally lit that fuse of hers and decided to tear into me”

This time you finally spoke to ask “What do you mean?” Thinking over what all you’d said to Gabby since that night. He chuckled before saying “oh like how the break up didn’t effect me. How I would look at you like we’d never been in love. How I didn’t come to the hospital when you were being checked out. How there was still condoms in my nightstand so I had to be sleeping around" 

"Oh” you breathed and heard him scoff “Yea oh. Y/N honestly all my cards on the table because I don’t have a damn thing left to lose. Every time I saw you and weren’t able to touch you or kiss you was like a knife to the gut. When I’d see you working a scene and you’d head straight for anyone who wasn’t me..baby you could’ve shot me and it would have hurt less. I had to force myself to be cold to keep from breaking down. While we’re on the subject those condoms are the last box I bought when we were together. Where you scribbled only for Y/N and Kelly’s use is still on the box. I haven’t so much as looked at another woman and I’d give anything to get a second chance at us”

Your head was spinning as you tried to process what all he’d just said. You vaguely registered him calling your name more than once before you finally said “I’m here” he made a noise in response then said “I’ll let you go” “No Kel wait” you said hurriedly and heard him make a questioning noise so you decided to lay your cards on the table as well “I still love you too Kelly. I don’t want anyone else. It will take time but I want to try us again too. Can you come over? I just want you to hold me then come morning we can talk more” you could hear the smile in his voice when he said “give me ten minutes top and I’ll be at your door”

[perriewinklenerdie]

Lights in your eyes (Ethan Ramsey x MC)

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x Claire Herondale

Word count: 2,3 k

Summary: Moments of Ethan and Claire’s New Year’s Eve party.

Warnings: a swear word here or there, mentions of adult situations

A/N: It’s all fluff with these two. Couldn’t stop myself. I also really would like to see Ethan and Tobias finally work their shit out, it has potential, I’m telling you

“Who would have thought we’d ever get to do this again, huh?” Tobias snickered, pushing Ethan’s shoulder playfully. The other doctor scoffed, leaning away a bit with a hint of a grin.

“Old habits die hard, I suppose. I still can’t believe I actually let you talk me into this.” Ethan cleared his throat, straightening his back a bit as they both waited for the door to open. Right before they did, Tobias laughed.

“We both know that it’s not me that talked you into going to the New Year’s Eve party. It’s a promise of seeing Herondale.”

Before Ethan could protest, the door opened, revealing a slightly intoxicated Baz, who with a wide smile, threw both arms over their shoulders and dragged them inside. Ethan didn’t even try to argue, knowing damn well that any form of resistance would be futile with the cheery doctor.

“Happy almost New Year, guys! You’re just in time, we were about to turn on some music.” he walked them in, shutting the door behind them. “The food is right here, the drinks are over there. if you need anything, ask.”

And with that, he went into the crowd and the two doctors lost him. They exchanged a brief look, after which Tobias nodded and left Ethan alone, going to fetch himself a drink. That left Ramsey on his own, his eyes immediately scanning the room in search of the blonde doctor. He failed in his search, confusion clouding his mind for a brief moment. All of a sudden, his hand was grabbed by someone and he was spinning the other way around, his arms immediately full.

Claire rose onto the tips of her toes, guiding Ethan with her hand against his cheek into a soft kiss. His surprise melted away with each move of her lips, arms wrapping around her to pull her closer. With a low hum, he lost himself in her, reveling in the sparks of endorphins that her closeness elicited.

“Get it, Ramsey!” Tobias shouted, whistling loudly at the pair. Ethan waved his hand at him halfheartedly, returning it to Claire’s waist immediately after. The pair couldn’t hear the teasing calls of people surrounding them if they tried.

His hands wandered her body, seemingly with a mind of their own, but Ethan was very much aware of what he was discovering, from the lacy fabric of her top to the very short skirt that exposed her legs in the best way possible. Every single sane thought he might have had in that moment had disappeared, his mind overcome by her intoxicating smell and things she was doing to him with her hands in his hair.

He moved his lips to her cheek, caressing her face while she let some oxygen into her lungs. “I thought you said you wouldn’t come.” She breathed out heavily, the tips of her fingers dipping beneath the fabric of his shirt. His heart skipped a beat, his mind creating very suggestive images, far too risky for the place they were currently in. “Though, I have to say, I was hoping you would change your mind. I always wondered what it would be like to be wrapped in your arms as the new year started.”

Ethan’s groan was barely noticeable by others, the loud music, courtesy of Bryce, masking most of it. Claire, however, knew very well that it was there, smirking as she leaned away.

“You’re entirely too distracting.” He admitted, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear when they separated for good. She grinned, pulling him closer for a split second with a smirk.

“But you love it.”

“That I do.”

~

They moved to the spot holding drinks, talking quietly among themselves. Ethan’s face twisted in displeasure at the sight of various colorful drinks, much to Claire’s amusement. With exaggerated flourish, she poured him a glass of whiskey and presented him with it, grinning at the way his expression cleared up.

She’s never seen him this relaxed at the party. With his arm around her waist, they made rounds among party attendees. He told a joke or two, didn’t complain about the choice of music or about the noise level; Claire would even go ahead and say that he enjoyed himself. Months into their relationship, he seemed to develop some sort of an immunity to parties, or at the very least, learned to survive them with her help.

Bryce declared himself the DJ, not letting anyone else dictate what song was playing. He decided on a rather slow song, though it was anything but romantic; it was carried by desire, the rhythm begging their bodies to move.

Ethan was the one to initiate the dance, squeezing her hip before pulling Claire to the secluded corner of the room, their faces coming closer as the song rang in the air. She wrapped her hands around his neck, pulling him to her. The proximity was enough to allow them to hear each other’s heavy breathing, the notion sending sparks of interest running down their spines.

“Pity we’re in the crowd.” He muttered into her ear, twirling her out and right back into his waiting arms, dipping her low towards the ground and throwing her back into his embrace, an inviting smirk on his features.

“What would you do if we weren’t?” Claire asked, wrapping her leg around his calf, her eyes sparkling playfully, challenging him to answer. Ethan’s hold on her tightened, their hips meeting in a suggestive manner as they danced.

“I would push you up against the wall.” He whispered hotly into her ear, taking great pleasure in the way her hands ran up his neck. “Brush that silly excuse of a skirt up your thighs and tease your skin until you were begging for more.” His words had an immediate effect on both of them, his breath losing its consistency, taking up an irregular beat instead, matching the rhythm of her heart. “Make you take my fingers until you couldn’t help but cry out my name-“

“Ramsey, either tone down with the flirting or get a room!” Tobias was the one to interrupt their inappropriate at the very least exchange, a shit-eating grin taking up his face. This time, it was Claire that smirked as she showed him her ring finger instead of her middle finger, her own spin of the rude gesture that wasn’t as offensive.

“I’d say you’re bothered by something.” Claire called out, twisting to face Tobias, letting Ethan’s arms fall around her hips. “How about some therapy?”

“I’d love to have some therapy with a woman as beautiful as you, but I already went down this road once. Our Ethan here doesn’t appreciate sharing.” He shot back, winking at her playfully. “Can’t blame him, though. I wouldn’t want to share you, either.”

“Lucky for me, I don’t have to.” Ethan pressed her against him, a proud smile residing on his lips. “I’m gonna be here as long as she wants me to.”

“You mean all the time, then. That’s a long time you’re signing up for.”

“We both know that I don’t mind that in the slightest.”

~

The more drinks they had, the bolder Claire was getting. She often joked about how she was going to dance on the table one of those days, but he always laughed at the idea as though it was a joke. Well, that day, it became apparent that it wasn’t a joke after all.

At one point of the evening, they separated. Ethan kept mostly to himself, taking his time to talk to his colleagues. In the meantime, Claire made rounds among her friends. She kicked their ass in beer pong, destroyed Rafael and Kyra in Just Dance (she winked at Ethan over her shoulder as the song ended, being rewarded with a warm hint of a smile from him) and annihilated the rest of the party in medical trivia with Jackie and Sienna as her teammates.

She’s had more than enough to drink by that point, so when Elijah dared her to dance on the table, she was more than game. Climbing onto the table, barely managing to balance on her high heels without falling, she threw her hands up in triumph.

“Bryce, turn the music up, I want to dance- oh!”

She twisted and turned, but before she could lose her balance, she found herself in the very safe embrace of Ethan Ramsey, who wrapped her in his arms and pulled her down from the table.

“No, I don’t think so. Come here.”

Claire fell onto his shoulders, her skirt riding up dangerously higher. He brushed the material downwards, saving her some embarrassment and party attendees some intriguing sights at the very least.

He walked them to the room on the side of the building, only then letting her feet touch the ground. She placed her hands on his shoulders, firmly gripping him as she slid down the front of his body.

“My hero.” She mumbled, pressing her lips to his neck. It took herculean effort to brush her advances away, especially when she was this enticing, but he knew better. He found a place for them to sit, gathering her into his arms and pulling her into his arms to keep her comfortable.

“Do you need to rest?” Ethan asked, brushing her hair behind her shoulder. She shook her hand, twisting in his embrace until she straddled him.

“I need you.”

“I’m flattered, Rookie, but now’s not the time. Tell me what else you need.”

She squeezed her eyes, looking at him suspiciously, then leaned forward to kiss him softly. With her lips against his, she whispered.

“I really do need you. Only you. Right here, with me.”

“Then that’s what you shall have.” He nodded, pressing a soothing kiss to her forehead, and wrapping his arms around her tighter.

~

“I found them!” Jackie opened the door, shouting over her back. Ethan looked away from the window, sitting both him and Claire up slowly. “You guys finally got decent at hiding. Lord knows you both sucked at it back in the day.”

The pair shared an amused look, standing up and straightening their clothes before going back. She caught his hand, tangling their fingers together, lazy smile lighting up Ethan’s face.

The main room holding the party hasn’t changed all that much since they last saw it. The lights dimmed, there was significantly less food and alcohol on the counters and the music was much more chaotic than it used to be. This time, it was Claire that pulled Ethan into her arms and onto the dancefloor, pressing their cheeks together. Despite the music not entirely fitting the mood they were in, they danced closely to one another, light smiles residing on their features.

“I could spend the whole night with you. Right here, in my arms.” He mused under his breath, looking right into her eyes with determination.

“You bet I’ll be in your arms for the whole night. In more ways than one.” Claire promised, winking at him cheekily and observing with delight how a gentle blush crept up his neck and onto his cheeks.

“Don’t tempt me.”

“Then what else am I supposed to do?”

A helpless grin was all he could manage before his lips found hers, gently kissing her, as though it was easier than breathing air. Their surroundings blended into a marvelous fusion of sights and sounds, drowning out everything.

~

Midnight was crawling closer and closer, and with that, a new year, full of possibilities. Ethan twirled Claire up until it was minutes until the countdown, at which point, she pulled him outside, their bodies shielded from the view by the alcove.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you wanted to get me alone.” He grinned, turning them around to press her against the column. She traced her hand around his neck, drawing their bodies a bit closer.

“Where would you even get that idea? I’m just enjoying my time with boyfriend.”

Before he could come up with some witty response, his body was hauled onto hers, brought closer by her hands, gripping his shoulders to pull him closer, and by her legs, wrapping around him to press their bodies as close as physics would allow.

They became entangled in a wild wave of desire and longing, stealing each other’s breaths and peeking into each other’s minds. Ethan grounded his hips into hers, a broken groan falling from his lips at the sensation. Claire smiled against him, letting his head trail downwards to tease the skin of her neck and chest, the flimsy fabric of her top giving way to his fingers. A wave of goosebumps washed over her body, the sensations he was eliciting pulling her away from the reality.

Fireworks suddenly erupted in the sky, illuminating their faces, lights reflected in their eyes. They broke the kiss, both of them turning towards the colorful show, high above their heads. Claire remained focused on the various images on the grand navy background, missing the way Ethan focused solely on her. He caught the smallest changes in her expressions; how closely she examined the shapes high above them; how the loud explosions make her twitch slightly, how the cheers of her friends pulled her attention away from the place she was in for just a little while.

And then she came back to him, truly and completely, staring at him with wonder in her eyes. Her hands traced the features of his face, her fingers brushing the lines of his cheekbones tenderly.

“Happy New Year.” Claire muttered, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. Ethan gathered her into his arms once more, getting lost in the way her green irises sparkled with happiness.

“With you, every year is going to be happy.”

Notes

Thank you so much for being here with me for another year. Each and every one of you is amazing and I’m grateful that you’re on this wild ride by my side <3 See you guys in the new year, let’s hope it’s gonna be better than the one we’re saying goodbye to.

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[sidespart]

Sibling Culture

Summary: Younger siblings Patton, Virgil and Roman share some stories about their older siblings Deceit, Logan and Remus. Patton and Virgil’s stories are cute. Roman’s are not.

Warnings: Abuse, Unsympathetic Remus, Non graphic descriptions of abuse, Not great understanding of mental health issues (child POV), authority figures not being very useful, child being exposed to sexual situations (very much not graphic). Ask if you want me to add more. 

Relationships: Gen, but a bit of pre-relationship moxiety snuck in because I love them

“Hey, how’d you get that scar?”

Despite the warm day, Roman felt cold grip his insides, twisting upwards towards his throat and freezing any denial he could think of until he was startled by a laugh from Patton.

“Oh! It was Dee’s fault.”

Wincing, Roman twisted himself so he could see the other two properly. Patton was still sprawled out on the grass next to him, but Virgil had sat up. He was hunched over, peering at Patton’s leg. When he saw Roman carefully sit up to join him he pointed at a faded sliver of a scar, just above Patton’s left knee.

“What did he DO?” Virgil face had shifted into a scowl at the mention his ‘arch enemy’ but that faded quickly as Patton started giggling.

“It was when I was …four? I think? He convinced me the Easter Bunny didn’t come to our house because the Easter Fox lived in our yard. I had to go out and patrol the yard, make sure it was safe, or I wouldn’t get any candy that year.”

-It said something about years of friendship with both Patton and Devin Sanders that neither Roman or Virgil thought to question that logic-

“Anyway he let me stomp around there for ever and then he jumped out in this fox mask to scare me!”

“This kind’ve thing is why he’s a dick” Virgil muttered. His hand, Roman noticed, was still on Patton’s leg, thumb swiping idly over the scar.

“He was nine, Vee” Patton said reprovingly, although he didn’t actually deny the comment, “anyway, he didn’t know I’d snuck a knife from the dishwasher-

“You WHAT?-”

“A KNIFE?-”

“-there was candy AND a bunnys life a stake, guys I was taking it seriously!” Patton’s eyes were sparkling with laughter at the twin looks of horror on his friends faces. “Anyway, he startled me so bad that of course I dropped it right away – sliced my knee up as it fell.”

“oh my God” Virgil groaned finally relinquishing Patton’s leg so he could bury his face in his hands. “That could have been so bad Pat.”

“what did Devin do?” Roman asked quietly.

“oh, he freaked – Virgil will you come out of there I’m fine – yelled so loud both our parents came running. Then, once I was all bandaged up, he tried to convince them I fell off a skateboard.”

That was enough to make Virgil peak through his fingers, a frown on his face “Did you ever even own a skateboard?”

Patton shifted himself so he was sitting up as well, an extremely solemn look on his face.

“We did not.”

There was a brief, pregnant pause before all three of them cracked up, their laughter echoing across Vigil’s yard.

“Older brothers are the worst.” Virgil pronounced. Despite the heat of the day he was still wearing his thick hoodie over a t-shirt and jeans, but now he started pushing up his right sleeve “Did I ever tell you about the time Logan threw me out of the tree house?”

“He what??!” Roman yelped.

“He would NEVER!” Patton gasped.

“He did” Virgil held his right arm up, revealing a long puckered line that ran from his mid forearm across his elbow. “It was before either of you moved here, I had a cast and everything”

All three of them took a moment to admire Virgil’s scar, much more raised and defined than Patton’s, before Roman asked the question they were no doubt all thinking:

“What colour was your cast?”

“Purple.”

“Nice.”

“Did Logan really push you Virgil?” Roman had to do his absolute best not to laugh at the pout that appeared on Virgil’s face when he took in Patton’s heartbroken expression.

Logan McAlister, was four years older than the three friends and Patton had fixated on him the moment they’d met. Roman has spent years watching Patton go from hero worship to puppy love to full blown crush all while Virgil stomped along next to him like a gloomy, jealous, storm cloud.

Not that Virgil would ever admit that it was jealousy making him snap and snarl at his brother whenever his friends came around…but their relationship certainly seemed to become more civil once Patton had gotten over his crush.

Roman couldn’t really blame Patton either. Virgil had never said anything and Logan…Logan was cool.

“He built a plane.” Virgil muttered eventually, shoving his sleeve back into place. “or a glider or…something. A box with a sheet stuck too it anyway. We both sat in it and he pushed us out of there.” He pointed towards the somewhat dilapidated tree house nestled in the tallest tree in the yard.

Roman let out a low whistle. Now that the three of them were quickly approaching seventeen they had physically, if not mentally, started to outgrow the tree house. Which meant it was no longer useful for much beyond lying down almost on top of each other during study sessions or lazy afternoon naps. When Roman had first met Virgil at age ten however it had seemed enormous. And very high up. It would have seemed even higher whenever the Ill-fated glider attempt had happened.

‘Were you scared?” he asked, watching Virgil carefully, but the other boy just shrugged.

“I don’t remember much to be honest. We were both pretty small.” He grinned. “I just remember afterwards. Logan kept coming into my room to sneak me chips and read his Physics text book to me”

“Aww! That so sweet!”

“Such a nerd.”

“Yeah.” Virgil ducked his head a little, apparently agreeing with both statements. He plucked a few strands of grass from the lawn, twisting them between his fingers.

Roman glanced at Patton, concerned. They both knew Virgil missed his brother, away at college and not due for a visit for at least a month. They also knew that asking him directly about it was a guaranteed way to get the emo to tense up.

Just as Roman was debating launching himself into a rendition of Black Parade as a distraction Virgil rolled his shoulders a looked up at him.

“Your turn.”

That cold grip he’d felt when he thought Virgil had noticed one of his scars was suddenly back ten fold.

“Oh…”

That made sense. Patton had shared a dumb sibling story. Then Virgil. Now it was his turn. It was only fair.

“Well…”

Roman was suddenly finding it quite difficult to breath. And to think. What was he supposed to tell them?

“I…”

He sat frozen. While two expectant faces stared at him, he racked his brain for a story to tell.

  -

When they’re seven Roman draws out his first story. Crude renderings of superheroes and scientists and scientist-superheroes in the rainforest. it’s boring Remus complains when he sees it. You’re boring Ro’. Make them fight! No - make ‘em smash that guys head in!

No! Roman shouts and Remus scowls. Grabs at the craft scissors lying on the table and jumps towards Roman; trying to both rip the paper out of his hands and cut it to pieces at the same time whilst Roman screams and screams.

Later, their mother gently cleans the tiny scratches on Romans hand whilst Remus sulks at the table. He started it Remus mutters and Roman feels his mothers arms tighten around him. Protective.

 - 

When they’re nine they get taken on a trip to the public pool in the next town. This pool is bigger than their local one with slides and pool toys and jets. The two of them spend a happy hour chasing each other with pool noodles and racing each other in the water. And then Remus pushes Romans head underwater and holds him down until his lungs are burning so badly he opens his mouth. He spends their last precious minutes of the trip hacking and spluttering. Clinging to the pools edge with his brothers laughter ringing in his ears.

 -

When they’re eleven Remus sneaks into his room at night with their fathers laptop tucked securely under his arm. Wakes Roman up by crashing onto the bed next to him and says look what I found!

Roman isn’t really sure what he’s found at first. The sounds off, presumably to avoid alerting their parents in the room next door, the websites unfamiliar – it takes a few seconds for the pulsing blobs to be recognisable as people and when they do YURGHH! Roman shrikes slams the laptop closed whilst Remus howls with laughter what were they doing to that woman?!

what were they – oh my god your such a pussy Roman don’t you know? Let me show you another one-

NO

Roman kicks and punches and shoves trying to get Remus away from him and Remus is laughing laughing laughing until he isn’t. Until their parents are in the room, shouting, trying to separate them and Remus is using the laptop like a bludgeon, slamming the edge into Romans ribs, each hit punctuated with Why! Do! You! Ruin! Everything!

The next day Virgil asks if he wants to come and play in the tree house and Roman says no. He has to be home early. Visitors. Virgil accepts the lie easily and Roman tries not to breath to deeply.

  -

The thing is you cant blame Remus. You’re not allowed. Not really. 

There’s something wrong with him.

What that something is seems to change often depending on which adult you ask. Every few months their parents bring Remus back from a new therapist with a new diagnosis and a new bottle of pills and big grins because THIS time they’re going to fix him.

  -

When they’re twelve Romans mother smiles at him and says Your such a good boy Roman. You keep me going. Their mother doesn’t smile much these days and the sight of it is almost as good as the praise. I know its hard. It must be so frustrating for you.

Last month Remus had convinced an older boy to gift him a box of cigarettes. That morning he’d  found them again and finally tried to smoke them, recruiting a reluctant Roman to keep watch. When he’d gagged on the taste he’d made exaggerated vomiting noises before stuffing the still burning end into Romans palm.

But we’re all in this together. You know?

Roman knows. He wants to help. He decides that unless the injury is bad enough he can’t fix it himself he simply wont tell his parents. He wants to help keep them going.

  -

When they’re thirteen Remus watches some murder mystery show and decides to burn his fingerprints off on the kitchen stove. We should do yours too! Shoving his mangled thumb under Romans nose. The smell makes Roman gag. Remus’ eyes are fever bright. We could be partners in crime!

 -

When they’re fourteen Remus decides he wants white streaks in his hair. And since they’re twins Roman should too. His attempt to bleach Romans hair as he sleeps leads to ruined sheets and a smattering of chemical burns across his neck and shoulders. He tells Patton it was a cooking accident and invests his saved allowance in jackets with high starched collars.

 -

When they’re fifteen he tells someone.

Their school has an assembly. Some outside company performing a play about abusive relationships. The teachers all have their sombre This Is A Serious Topic Don’t You Dare Laugh faces on as the actors work. Roman watches closely, picking up on all the false steps and poorly delivered lines which he would surely have avoided if he was an actor. The story is about a school girl who gets into a relationship with an older man who turns abusive. All throughout the play she drops increasingly massive hints to her friends and family who blithely ignore her until she dies spectacularly and loudly in the final scene.

On one side of Roman, Patton is fully sobbing. On the other Virgil is quite possibly asleep. The actors come out to a smattering of applause (lead overly enthusiastically by Patton) and launch in to a pre-prepared speech. Remember the signs! Tell a parent or teacher if you’re in trouble! If you suspect your friend is in trouble! Abuse can happen to anyone! Abusers can BE anyone!

Huh. Roman thinks afterwards.

He probably doesn’t count if it’s a sibling though.

Remus isn’t a stranger. Like the man in the play. And they’re the same age.

Still.

The next day he feels like he’s in a trance.

He takes his jacket off in his first class. Art. Pat and Virgil aren’t in this class with him. Better that way.

There are bruises on his forearms. Dark splotches which are so so obviously made by fingers.

He waits. One minute. Two.

Roman! His teacher is in front of him, faster than he anticipated, alarmed look on his face. What happened to your arm?

Stay in the trance. No shaking. M-my brother did it. He wanted the TV remote.

A pause that seems to last and hour and then his teachers’ laughing a shaky laugh. Smiles at him exasperated but fond. Roman aren’t you two a little too old to be roughhousing like that?

Right

It doesn’t count.

You can’t be abused by a sibling. A few cuts, bruises, scars – that’s just sibling culture baby. Virgil and Patton have stories too – you don’t see them freezing up. Complaining

Don’t be a pussy Roman.

He puts his jacket back on and keeps it on for the rest of the day.

 -

When they’re sixteen Remus comes home for the weekend, sits at the kitchen table and asks if Roman wants to hang out.

-Remus goes to a special school for behaviourally challenged students and only comes back every other weekend. Their parents cried when he left. Thought they’d failed. Felt devastated. Roman didn’t feel much of anything and wonders if that makes him a bad person-

Remus is calmer these days but Roman still says no. He has plans with his friends. Oh yes. Remus rolls his eyes Paddington Bore and the Virgin.

Roman glares at him. Don’t call them that. Even though that’s basically affectionate, for Remus. And Remus looks at him for a long moment before nodding. Standing up, shoving the table hard into Roman’s hip leaving him gasping in pain.

By the time he’s limped his way to Virgil’s house the sun is high in the sky. Patton suggests lazy nap time in the tree house and just looking at the ladder makes Roman want to vomit.

It’s such a beautiful day Padre he crys, lets lie amongst the wildflowers like the majestic forest nymphs we are.

Its literally just grass Virgil sighs but Patton laughs and Roman lowers himself stiffly down. Carefully keeps the pain out of his face as his hip makes contact with the ground. Turns away from them whilst he grits his teeth through it, ostensibly napping until Virgil says

Hey, how’d you get that scar?

   -

“Roman?”

Virgil and Patton were both staring at him. Shit Roman thought. How long had he been day-dreaming? Day-reminiscing? Day-

“Earth to Roman.” Patton again, there was crinkle of concern between his eyebrows and that wouldn’t do at all.

“Well-“ Roman boomed in his best dramatic bellow, what Virgil call his ‘Prince Roman’ voice: “I am afraid I will have to disappoint you my friends, twins are not bound by your foolish ‘older sibling’ ‘younger sibling’ stereotypes”

“I mean, technically, one of you is the older sibling” Virgil muttered while Patton laughed “you’re seriously telling me neither of you ever did something dumb and got the other one hurt?”

“Virgil Madelaine McAlister-“

“Not my middle name.”

“-I will have you know that I have never done anything dumb. Ever. In my life!” he punctuated that statement with a dramatic point to the heavens. Patton was now laughing hard enough that Roman was fairly sure he should be offended and Virgil was fighting a smirk.

“You really never fight?”

“We’re a united front.” Drop it, drop it please just drop it he chanted internally.

And then, miracle of miracles, Virgil did. Letting himself flop back to the ground with a soft ‘humph’.

“It must be nice to have a twin” Patton said a little wistfully. Careful he arranged himself back on the ground so his head was cushioned on Virgil’s stomach. “you’re basically born with a ready-made friend!”

“And you get to do everything together” Virgil murmured a faint blush on his face and one hand hovering in the vicinity of Patton’s hair. “No one has to get left behind when one goes off to college.”

Roman glanced down at him, worried, but Virgil just met his gaze softly, one side of his mouth pulling up into one of his rare sweet smiles. “You’re so lucky Roman.”

Roman nodded. Ignored the quick flare of pain in his hip as he laid himself back down in the grass. He let out a contented sigh as the warmth of the ground sunk into his bones, soothing the ache

“Very lucky.” He agreed quietly.

[tact-and-impulse]

Shinkane Week 2021 Day 1

For this prompt of ‘roommates’, it’s a sequel to Propriety! Let’s see where Miss Tsunemori and her faithful former chauffeur have ended up, now that they’re on the run…

Runaways

“I’m so sorry, but we only have one room available.”

He clenched his jaw. Gino would have his hide if he found out, but it seemed there was no other choice. “We’ll take it.”

Beside him, Miss Tsunemori was feigning interest in the worn floorboards. The innkeeper handed over the key and directed them to the room. It was terribly cramped, with only one futon. Extra blankets would be brought for the other to make do.

As soon as the innkeeper left, he insisted. “You can take the bed. I’m used to sleeping on the floor.”

“But you must be tired too. You drove the entire time.”

He did, because it was the middle of the night and she didn’t know the roads. He wasn’t even entirely confident they were safe yet. He had driven until the fuel ran out, and then decided to ditch their vehicle on the side of the road. It had been a harrowing twenty-four hours, and her entire life had been pulled out from underneath her. “Don’t worry about it. Besides, I’m the servant.”

“Not anymore.”

That was true and he abruptly turned away. “Get some sleep. We’ll think better if we sleep.”

His blankets were then delivered, and afterwards, neither of them spoke. As he attempted to find a comfortable position, he couldn’t help hearing her light breathing and knew she was just as restless.

***

“I’d like to see the ocean.” She had said, when he asked for a destination.

So, here they were, in a harbor town. They had watched the sun rise over the glittering water, and Miss Tsunemori had darted to the shoreline. He followed her prints, hiding them under his, and joined her at the breaking surf. She was standing just shy of the approaching foam.

“See any monsters?”

“Kougami-san!” She admonished but laughed. She could laugh when they were alone, without worry that someone would overhear and realize that it wasn’t two young men staying in the last room. “No, I haven’t.” She bent down, untying her shoes and removing her socks. After placing them on higher ground, she dipped her toes in. Just as she did, she made a startled sound and retreated. 

He took her arm, steadying her. “Are you alright?”

“Yes, I didn’t expect it would still be cold.” She pressed her feet into the darkened sand. “I suppose that makes sense, it’s early.”

Letting go, he copied her, tossing his boots closer to her belongings. He stepped into a wave, the ocean surging around his ankles. “It’s actually not bad. Once you’re in it, you’ll warm up.”

She splashed towards him. “If you say so…”

For a few minutes, they didn’t move. He crossed his arms, breathing deeply of the salty air. “So…where to?”

“I’m not sure.” A frown had settled upon her face. The reality was kicking in, that there was no plan other than running as fast and far as they could.

“We need to decide. Every minute we stall, we risk getting caught.”

“You’d be arrested for kidnapping me.” She had already reached that conclusion, and despite that bleak possibility, he felt a twinge of pride. “And I don’t want that to happen.”

“Maybe, you’d see me again when I’d leave jail in twelve years.”

“Please don’t joke about something like that.”

He glanced at her forlorn expression, her downturned lips. “Sorry.”

A breeze swept through, and she held on to her hat. “If I can keep up this disguise, I wonder if I can study law.” She mused.

“Maybe.” He conceded. His skin itching with the need to move, he walked away from the ocean and grabbed his boots. She followed suit, and they slowly crossed the beach.

“Kougami-san?”

“Yes?”

“How do we get rid of the sand?”

***

Her question also brought up the issue of hygiene, so they concocted an excuse that “Akio” had a skin condition and couldn’t go to the public bathhouses, unlike “Satoru”. The story bought them a large basin of water and coarse soap. Miss Tsunemori was eager to use them, and to secure her privacy in this small room, he made a suggestion in case the innkeeper knocked.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, go ahead. Don’t worry, I won’t peek.” He held up the sheet, turning his head to the side. “Let me know when you’re done.”

“Alright, thank you.” There was rustling, as she removed her clothes. He tried to ignore the soft sounds and the liquid sloshing as she dipped below the surface.

He clenched the cotton, searching for a topic of conversation. “We can keep to the coastline, and there’s the option of leaving Japan.”

“I’m not sure if I want to, or even if you do.”

“Why not? There’s jungle out there, hidden temples.”

“Hmm. But you wanted to go to the mountains.” So, she remembered.

“Yeah. I had a teacher once, who said he wanted to live in the shadow of Mount Fuji. To us kids who only knew the rowhouses, his idea of a peaceful life was something we couldn’t really imagine.”

He could hear her smile in her reply. “But you liked it.”

That phrase, accompanied with the fact that she was naked in a tub just below him, caused him to waver. He renewed his grip on the sheet, his reply harsher than intended. “Well, runaways never have peace. Do you want to go home?”

Long moments passed, before she quietly replied. “I think we’re past that point.”

It wasn’t a denial. Before he could say as much, she announced that she was finished. He lifted the cover higher, while she dressed. It didn’t take long before she popped up on the other side, her face flushed.

“Thank you so much.” Her smaller fingers reached up, pulling the cloth barrier down. This close, he could smell the soap, and underneath, the lingering traces of sweet citrus that hadn’t been entirely removed. “Your arms must be sore. Do you want me to rub them?”

They did ache, but her offer was far too tempting for his fraying self-control. “That won’t be necessary. I’m going to the public baths. Keep the pistol, you know how to use it.” He was about to take the basin with him, but she protested.

“I can empty it, don’t worry.”

“…Thanks.” He couldn’t resist ruffling her short damp hair. His hand tingling, he hurried out of the building and down the road.

He was one of the few patrons at the time, and he was grateful. As he quickly scrubbed off the grime, he had an intrusive thought that she would be gone when he returned to the inn. It wouldn’t be surprising; being a runaway wasn’t nearly so glamorous, now that the initial adrenaline had faded.

However, when he knocked on the door, her lowered voice answered. Upon his entry, she sat up in her futon, clearly relieved. “Welcome back.”

And he smiled. “I’m back.”

***

They kept moving, never staying in a town longer than a few days. Kougami maintained a close eye on their surroundings, but he didn’t spot anyone tailing them. If Tougane was still persistent, he might have lost their trail. They traveled inland, running errands for money; he usually did manual labor, while she was a good scribe.

In one of the larger markets, there was a stall selling books. Her interest couldn’t be concealed, and he encouraged her to peruse, while he bought the remainder of their supplies. She had found one in particular and her gaze was bright as she skimmed through the book.

“Is it about law?” He asked over her shoulder.

“History, actually. But it’s well-written.”

He approached the vendor. “How much?” They spent a minute bargaining, but he was going to pay regardless.

As they headed to their lodgings, she humbly said. “Kougami-san, you didn’t have to.”

“Hey, it’s a gift. That’s what roommates do.” He smacked the spot between her shoulder blades, and she startled. For a moment, he wondered if that was too forward, but she didn’t mention it.

“Well, then I need to return the favor. Let me know if you really want anything.”

There was, but it wasn’t the time, place, or situation to ask for it. He didn’t speak again, trying not to think of a sweltering night that seemed like years ago.

In the evenings, he pored over their maps, marking the places they had left. It was still warm, and he left the window open. The sound of cicadas also distracted him from the fact that he was really itching for a smoke.

Then, there was a slight tap against his upper arm. Miss Tsunemori had set her book aside, holding out an open box of rolled papers, pungent and familiar.

“Here. I bought you a new pack, since you ran out.”

“You noticed.” It was the same brand he liked too. Touched, he accepted the cigarettes. He picked one, lighting it. Noticing that she was watching, he asked. “Want to try one?”

“No, thank you. I’ve gotten used to the smell though. Now, it reminds me of you.”

“Does it?” He regarded her, the smoke weaving around them. She blushed but didn’t look away.

At that moment, a cicada flew into the room. She clamped a hand over her mouth to stop from screaming, and he bit off a curse as he extinguished the cigarette in the ash tray, before grabbing his boot to kill the invader. A few good hits, and he tossed the body out before she closed the window. Damn bugs.

Shocked laughter bubbled from her lips. “That was…scary.”

“I wasn’t expecting that.” But he began to laugh too. It was the first time, since they’d driven away from Tokyo.

After recovering, it was quiet again. Even the cicadas must have tired out. For a second, they stared at each other.

“Well…it’s late.” She slowly said, wrapping up in her blankets. “Good night.”

In every room, they’d been sleeping on opposite ends, but this one was the smallest so far. If he could, he could roll over and close that distance. But he only answered. “Night.”

***

The final summer days gave way to autumn, and the mountains were abundant with color. Unfortunately, the scenery was the only enjoyable thing. Influenza was spreading, from beyond the borders. The numbers of infected and dead were rising fast. It was recommended to cover their faces with muslin layers, and the masks also served in laying low. However, it wasn’t enough, because he fell asleep one night with a dry throat and woke to feeling cold under his blankets.

She took over, ignoring his attempts to convince her that he should be left behind. She kept their brazier lit, measured his medicine, and even wiped him above the waist. He felt terrible and weak, but he had to rely on her. From morning to night, she looked after him, her brows drawn together in perpetual concern. He wasn’t getting better, not as quickly as he thought, and he knew it.

One morning, she wasn’t there when he opened his eyes, and he made an effort to sit up. The room spinning, he swayed, and his hand landed on the note she had left. She was buying more tea for him, but she would be back soon. And just like that, he was reassured. He didn’t stir again until he sensed her presence.

“I’m back. I’ve brought someone who said he could help. Can you hear me, Kougami-san?” She squeezed his fingers.

“Mm.” He grasped back, comforted by her touch.

“Kougami? Is that you?” The voice was familiar, and he thought he was dreaming as he looked up into the surprised, bespectacled eyes of the man who held weekly lessons for the rowhouse children.

“Saiga-sensei…please help.” Then, he spiraled into delirium.

***

“Young lady, what is he to you?”

“He’s-”

***

Just as he was beginning to crest over the worst, her temperature spiked. He blamed himself. Staying in one room together this whole time, breathing the same air. She deteriorated fast, struggling with each inhale. Her skin was burning, despite the growing chilliness.

He didn’t leave her bedside, giving her water and broth and the little medicine he was able to buy. Saiga said he had seen other young women survive this, but his expression was serious. Kougami was afraid. Afraid that she was going to die, and he couldn’t do anything about it.

In her fever dreams, she called for her parents. Her grandmother. Her friends. And for him. “Kougami-san! Don’t go!” For whatever reason he was, it brought her to tears, because they spilled down her face, onto her sweat-soaked pillow.

“I’m here.” He hushed her, pressing his hand to her forehead. “I’m here, Akane. I won’t leave you.”

He wouldn’t, because she believed in him. In the silent spaces between her coughing, her words haunted him.

He’s the person I trust most with my life.

***

“So, you ran away together?” Saiga summarized, as the two of them sat on the back steps of his house. “I admit, I’m not sure what to make of your decision. You must have had your difficulties.”

“It wasn’t easy, but it had its kinder moments.” Footprints in the sand, pages in the candlelight. A sheet between them.

His old teacher smiled. “That’s how life is. It was lucky that I was passing through. I was sick earlier this year, so I’ve been helping out. Kougami, don’t underestimate this flu.”

“It’s going to get worse, isn’t it? Winter isn’t even here yet.”

“You assume correctly. But at the very least, you’re both alive. I’m glad.” Miss Tsunemori’s fever had finally broken, though she was still weak. Kougami was better, but not by much. He still couldn’t bring himself to light a cigarette yet.

“Me too.”

“Whatever you decide next will be crucial. Snowy roads are harder to traverse, and with the infection rates, I’d be surprised if any small town will welcome outsiders. As long as you hold on to logic and clarity, you’ll find a solution.”

“I won’t forget. Thank you.”

With that, his teacher excused himself to obtain groceries, and Kougami went inside. She was reading the newspaper, looking lost.

“Miss Tsunemori?”

“Oh, Kougami-san. Um, sorry.” She hastily wiped at her eyes. “All the news of cases and deaths made me think of Obaa-chan. If we were this ill, then what about her? Masaoka-san too, and everyone else.”

“I know. Even Gino is only human. But if we go back…”

“We’re immune though. We can offer to nurse the sick, in exchange for clemency. We can negotiate.”

“And Tougane?”

“I can always use the pandemic as an excuse for delaying a wedding.”

“I don’t like the idea of you marrying him.” Saying that aloud felt like drawing to the edge of a precipice, that he knew he couldn’t turn back from.

‘I don’t either. But I’ll find another way.” Of course, she would say that. And he had faith in her.

He smiled bitterly. “Alright. Let’s return to Tokyo.”

[secret-engima]

I’ve had a bad day so... anything about any of your rwby aus you wanna share? ❤️

Awwww, I’m sorry to hear that Anon! Would a few snips help? I think I have a few snips around here somewhere *dives into doc* *reemerges* I come bearing snips! I apologize that most of them are angsty! But I have what I have ^^;

Always I Dreamed:

     “You don’t actually have a plan do you?” Raven hissed to Summer as they pressed their backs against the same piece of cover, trying to catch their breath.

     Summer leaned around the corner, snapped off a shot to keep the Grimm from punching Qrow off the cliff, “I do! It’s just a work in progress! And it would have been a lot easier if that pillar hadn’t crumbled the wrong way.”

     Raven knew what was likely to blame for that, but didn’t bother to say, “Pro tip? If you can think of some way for your plan to go really, stupidly wrong, assume it will and have a backup plan.”

     They rolled away from cover and dodged the rock fragments as the Grimm angrily shattered the stone they had been hiding behind, Summer snapped off another shot without looking through her scope and made a face, “Well I don’t see you coming up with any ideas!”

     “I’m not the one who insisted she had a plan.”

     Taiyang slammed his feet down onto the Grimm’s head from where he’d jumped off a high ruin, front flipped off its skull with another hard kick, and rolled under it’s answering fist, “Well you’re one of the people who might die without one, so maybe give it a shot?”

...

Wolfcury (in which Taiyang attempts to tame a smol child large wolfdog:

     “Well,” Taiyang managed once his ears had stopped ringing, “that could have gone a lot better.”

     “It could have gone a lot worse too,” Summer pointed out, “he retreated rather than attacked.” They both shared a solemn look. They knew that if Taiyang had kept pushing, had gotten too close, the wolfdog would have attacked him. Taiyang ran a hand through his hair, he didn’t know if he could fix something that broken. A trust that shattered.

     But the wolfdog had saved Ruby, and Ruby was still asking about him every time Summer went out to check on him. He owed it to the wolfdog to at least try to salvage whatever trust the animal’s previous owner had shattered into feral terror. And if he really, genuinely couldn’t … he wasn’t looking forward to explaining that to Ruby. Or dealing with the tears and fallout that would follow. They kept trying. Summer still checked on the bandages and brought water, but Taiyang was now in charge of the food. They hoped that associating him with food would help take the initial edge off, but while the howling and snapping didn’t make a reappearance after the first time, the wolfdog still strained to stay as far away as possible, and refused to eat while he was in the shed. Taiyang decided he needed to escalate just a bit, because it was quickly becoming clear that no amount of food bribery would help if the wolfdog was too terrified by his mere existence to eat around him and get the positive association.

     Taiyang brought home some supplies, sturdy wire fencing and wood to build a dog house, and soon Summer was gently leading the wolfdog out of the shed and into his new, fenced off area of the yard while Taiyang hid in the house to keep the wolfdog from panicking. Ruby was ecstatic to finally be able to see the wolfdog, even if she wasn’t allowed inside the fenced off area or to stick her fingers through the bars. Taiyang watched from a distance, letting Summer directly monitor the “visits” of their daughters to the wolfdog through the fencing. So long as the animal didn’t know Taiyang was nearby, the change in behavior was obvious. Still skittish and a touch wild, but shyer. Gentler. He even limped up and wagged his tail at Ruby through the fencing. It was just Taiyang that he was so mindlessly terrified of, and it made Taiyang feel angry in the pit of his stomach.

     This animal had been brave enough to try to fight off a Grimm to save Ruby, and while he seemed to have no idea what to do with affection, that shyly wagging tail and ginger acceptance of dog treats through the wire fencing proved the poor thing wasn’t naturally aggressive and hateful. Someone, some man, had beaten that fear into the wolfdog, that wild-eyed hate he could see in big grey eyes whenever Taiyang came too close. People like that could get eaten by Grimm in Taiyang’s opinion, and if he ever had the luck to run into the man who had hurt this dog… He shook that thought away —not for the first time and not for the last— and put the next stage of his plan into action.

     The first time he wandered out and sat down just on the other side of the wire fencing with a lap desk and a stack of school papers to grade, the wolfdog fled to the other side with a brief, swiftly cut off scream of fear. It stayed pressed into the farthest corner of fencing the three hours Taiyang sat with his back to the fence, grading the papers of his students at Signal and listening to his daughters play. Taiyang only looked at the animal to call a soft greeting when he got there, then to call a soft goodbye when he finally got up and went inside to cook dinner.

     He repeated the ritual three more times before the wolfdog finally dared to leave the corner and instead skirt furtively around the far side of his fenced in area, watching him with his grey tail tucked tight to his belly and hackles raised in something akin to anger. Taiyang just kept grading papers and writing up schedules and working on whatever other paperwork he could find. He’d thought about doing weapon maintenance out here, but chances were high the wolfdog would know what weapons were and be even more frightened of them, so he stuck to paper tasks, or just sitting with his back to the fence for three hours watching the girls play. He did his best to keep it to the same time each day, for the same amount of time.

     Day five and he heard it creeping closer before fleeing again several times. Day seven and he briefly felt hot breath against the back of his neck before it retreated. The wolfdog stopped fleeing to the far corner when Taiyang came outside, just hunkered down wherever it happened to already be and watched him with wary eyes. Day eight and he started bringing jerky with him, sliding a piece through the wire right where he usually sat before turning around and going back to his usual routine. It took until day ten before the wolfdog actually crept up close enough to snap up the jerky and flee to a “safe” distance again.

...

Dragon Yang:

     “Yang, wait! It’s me! It’s Qrow!”

     She hesitated. Stared at him, poised to go after him again, eyes flickering red, nostrils flared. She looked like she was on the edge of either a panic attack or trying to kill him again. Her fingers flexed, then her fists lowered. He wasn’t stupid enough to think she had relaxed. Her nostrils flared again, hair rippling almost like fire, which he hadn’t known it could do before now, “…Uncle Qrow?”

     Qrow nodded, tried to pitch his voice into something soothing, “It’s me, kiddo. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you like that. But- Brothers, Yang, we’ve been worried sick.”

     Yang’s jaw worked, her face was almost eerily blank —like Raven at that age and older, and he didn’t like that thought or what it implied—, “Prove it.” Qrow faltered and her lips twitched like she wanted to bare her teeth at him, “Prove it. Prove you’re- that you’re my uncle.” Something bleak flickered over her face, hollow and fractured, before it was gone again, “Prove it to me.”

     Qrow dared to let go of Harbinger’s hilt. Yang was … he had no idea what had happened to her, but she looked cold and hard, scraped raw and hiding it for her own safety. Someone had torn his niece apart and molded her into something that could smash right through an experienced Huntsman’s Aura in three strikes and he seethed just thinking about it. But he couldn’t afford to be angry right now, not with Yang sizing him up as a potential enemy. So he spread his hands placatingly and scrambled for decent proof. I need a drink for this-, oh. “When you were eight, you wanted to make me a ‘welcome home’ gift. You decided to make brownies. But the house was out of milk, so instead of using tap water, you got it into your head for some reason to use the bottle of whisky that you weren’t supposed to know was under the sink. Your dad just about skinned me when he got home to find you and Ruby passed out drunk on the floor from ‘testing out’ the brownies.”

     Yang stared at him. Her hands slowly relaxed out of fists, “I was sick for the whole night and most of the day after. I hated it. Ruby kept throwing up. She was afraid to eat brownies for years after that…”

     “Because she thought they were cursed,” Qrow finished gently. Yang kept staring, expression so blank it was almost a cry for help. Qrow dared to take a step forward, “It’s me, Yang. I promise.”

     The tiniest shudder ran through her frame, like she was holding back from some greater response. She inhaled, exhaled slowly as the last of the glow faded from her hair, “I believe you.” Her voice cracked for just a moment before he saw her visibly wrestle it back under control, “I believe you.”

     Qrow dared to take a few more steps toward her, picking his way around the furrow he’d left in the ground, making sure that each movement was slow and obvious. She let him approach, didn’t tense up or turn wary as he came to a stop just in arm’s reach. She stared up at him with a mask of porcelain, fragile and dangerous, and Qrow pushed down both his fury and the urge to get drunk until he wasn’t angry anymore. Instead, he tried to smile, “Hey there, kiddo. We missed you.”

     She closed her eyes, her breath shook before she opened them again, “Missed you too, Uncle Qrow.”

     Qrow held his hands up a little higher, from placation to the offer of a hug, “Can I hug you, kiddo?”

     She swallowed, he caught the glimmer of longing in her eyes, “…Just … don’t touch my shoulders.”

     Qrow nodded and made a point to move slowly. He wanted to pull her close and squeeze her as tightly as he could, but he didn’t need to be a wise, quasi-immortal wizard like Oz to tell that was a bad idea. So instead of that, he very slowly stepped in and rested a hand on the small of her back and the back of her head, tucking her against his chest, head under his chin, like she was something fragile. She tensed in his arms, but didn’t pull away, and when he tentatively ran his fingers through her tangled mane of hair, the tension in her frame unwound so that she was slumped against him. They stood there for a while, Yang trembling faintly in his arms but not crying like he thought she probably needed to, her skin under his hand almost fever hot and worrying as Qrow tried not to hug too tight and ignored the burning in his own eyes.

[nicklightbearer]

Not A Warning, Babe, It’s An Order

yet another whf tickling fic! i just cant get enough of these two. this one is a lot longer and a good bit more.... sweet? cute?

in this; virgil didnt die and also nick and jack are Frens <3

“Ugh!” Nick huffed, balling up yet another failed composition and throwing it towards the trash can- at this point, while most of it at the bottom was empty bottles, it was overflowing with similar papers. Ripped, crushed, and ruined.. None of them were right. He couldn’t get down the mood he wanted, not in the slightest- and though he eyed the pills set in a neat bowl on his desk, he ended up shoving those away too and just pressing his head to his hands.

This wasn’t working. He couldn’t feel it, that groove that would inspire him to write a million words all in one night- that focus, that drive.. It eluded him.

From the open window, a cold chill. He’d left it open on purpose, of course- tonight, of all nights, he’d actually hoped that Jack would show up- but so far, nothing. Perhaps he wasn’t listening. 

Perhaps he was off indulging in his own hobby. A thought that would’ve once made Nick shudder just made him snort now, and he stood up to grab his guitar.

Maybe this time, he could interrupt the magician’s work instead.

Making his way over to the window, he gave the guitar a few plucks- out of tune, dammit- but with his keen ear for such things, he twisted the pegs just so until the guitar sang as beautifully as ever. He pushed open the door to the balcony, giving a few strums, before settling on a chair outside and kicking his feet up on the railing.

Yes, this would do nicely. 

Jack.. Wasn’t actually hunting, not tonight. He hadn’t been, as of late- sneaking off to Nick’s room to get a bit of company now and again, coupled with ‘terrorizing’ the poor man, well.. It’d been doing just fine. 

At the moment, he was actually perched on the windowsill of some random citizen- he hadn’t bothered checking who, it didn’t matter- and peering into the window to a bedroom across the way. This house was his target- a doctor lived there with his wife, and it seemed that this particular fellow had taken a vested interest in the bobby’s investigation of the ‘escape’ of Foggy Jack.

Irritating, to say the least. Those doctors gave him the heebie-jeebies. 

He’d been there for.. Oh, three hours? It was about three hours when he finally noticed something to break the monotony- hell, the doctor hadn’t even come home yet, all he’d seen was the wife folding laundry and watching the late-night run of Uncle Jack’s show- and it was.. Well, at first he thought he was hallucinating. It wasn’t the first time.

But as the song trailed off, he noted that it was different from recordings. It was as if Nick was playing his guitar right out into the open night air, something like a ballad version of When You’re Gone. 

Surely Nick wasn’t playing outside at this hour. Though he tried to ignore it- probably just some other musician practicing- it kept going.. And his curiosity got the better of him.

Sighing, he slid down from the window, dissolving into his usual mist before even touching the ground. 

If it was Nick, he’d be rather cross. At the same time, it was definitely a first for him to be doing something like this, and he wondered to what end it was.

When Nick noticed the fog rolling up the streets, converging into a larger cloud as it got closer to his house, he smiled grimly. It had worked- and he wasn’t actually sure how Jack would react to such a summons, as odd as it was. But he needed help- and of all the times Jack had offered, well, he surely wouldn’t be that put off.

He closed his eyes, now crooning the words to his song softly as he felt the fog push up towards his balcony. 

“When you’re gone… Baby, it’s a long way home.” He could feel a presence behind him now, but he didn’t bother stopping his playing. It was near the end, anyway.

“Baby, it’s a long way home.”

He felt a hand on his shoulder as he finished the tune, and lolled his head back to open his eyes and grin up at Jack. The magician was quiet- looked rather neutral, but curiosity glinted in his eyes.

“A wonderful performance as always.” “Why, thank you.” “But I must ask.. It’s nearly midnight, most of the good folk have gone to bed or out to their activities of the night. Why haven’t you?” “I’m glad you asked!” Nick beamed, swinging his legs down and standing up as he grabbed Jack’s arm and dragged him inside- not that there was much resistance. 

“I have to write a new song. And I’m having a lot of trouble!” “You sound delighted about that.” Nick huffed, setting his guitar down and turning to cross his arms with an irritated frown. Jack merely tilted his head, still not entirely sure where he came into play.

“Well! You’ve helped me before.” “Ah, so it’s like that?”

The way the word was murmured shot a shiver up his spine, and Nick held his hands out placatingly as a cruel smile spread across the magician’s face.

“No! No, it’s not, you big bully. Godsakes.” “Well, do explain.” Nick sighed, stepping over to his bed and flopping to sit on the edge- and, when Jack didn’t move, he patted the spot next to him. There was a brief hesitation before he settled down, hands resting on his lap as he watched Nick almost warily.

“I need a favor.” “A favor.” “Yes. I know you get all excited about- about making me laugh, but I hardly ever get to see you laugh. And I think it would make for a great inspiration if you’d let me have my own fun, for once.” Jack’s face reddened considerably, even if Nick could only peek at the spaces around the edges. He shifted, bringing a knee up onto the bed so that he was facing the magician and leaned forward while clasping his hands together earnestly.

“Please! It’d be a big help, really.” “I..” “And you can- you can have your fun later, once I’m done. Okay?” Jack raised an eyebrow. “No strings attached?” “Well- I mean- oh, don’t be mean. You know what I meant.” “Mmh. I suppose if it’s such a big help..” He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose for a moment before nodding in agreement. Nick clapped once, already excited. “Perfect! Okay, perfect. Here, you lay down, let me get my pad.” Jack may well have just up and died, with how heavily his blush was- but he complied, laying back on the bed awkwardly before covering his face and exhaling. Nick had scampered over to his desk and ripped the last page off again, completely trashing his original ideas and bringing over the blank paper and pencil to set on his nightstand.

“.. It’s not going to be very comfortable there. Here, up you go.” As he was pulled into a more comfortable position- laying so that he was propped up on pillows instead of flat on the mattress- he was silent. Nick paused for a moment before scrambling to sit on his legs, suddenly rather aware of how awkward the situation could become if he didn’t pull this off perfectly.

“.. And the mask?” “Oh no. Not taking it off.” “Jacky…” The magician peeked through his fingers, watching how Nick’s face fell and his eyes shined. Ooh, he was getting good at those puppy eyes.

He deflated, hooking his fingers around the edges and wiggling it off carefully. The night air felt cold on his exposed skin- especially with how fiery it was from the flustered state he was in.

“There. Happy?” “Absolutely!” Nick’s smile was back, and he laced his fingers together, stretching them a bit before wiggling them a few times- Jack had to bite back a giggle of anticipation- to get warmed up. 

“Alright. Don’t cover your face again, okay? I need to see you smile!” “God.” As his palms pressed to the magician’s sides, he yelped at the immediate slam of arms that nearly locked him in place.

“Woah there, Jackaboy- hey, you’ve only gone and trapped me!” “Well- I can’t- aha!”

His fingers curled slightly, and even with his jacket to protect him, the magician had to lock his jaw to keep the tingles that spread across his torso from affecting him too much.

“Come on, you silly boy.. Lift your arms up.” “I can’t if you- if you keep- doing that!” “Doing whaaaat?” The teasing! The tone! He hated it- but as skilled fingers began kneading at his sides, he couldn’t voice any of that. He pressed his arms down a bit harder, jerking as Nick’s hands slid down to squeeze his hips experimentally.

“Gosh, you’re such a baby about it. With all your big talk about how sensitive I am, I thought you wouldn’t be half so bad..” Nick tsked, pulling back for a moment before pushing his hands underneath the jacket and clawing at his stomach. Jack nearly had a heart attack right there, hands flying up to his mouth to stifle the sudden squeak as he squirmed.

“But that’s not right at all! You’re just as ticklish as me, aren’t you? God, what a hoot.” This was it. This was his funeral. 

“Imagine if the constables caught wind. Foggy Jack, menace to society- and all you have to do to reduce him to a pile of fluff and giggles is a little tickling.” “Fuck ohohoff!” “Ooh, swears. So scary.” Nick was careful as he pulled one hand out to start undoing buttons- the jacket was soon pushed aside, and he grinned as he ducked his head down. One hand locked on each side, squeezing over and over as his face pressed against the magician’s stomach- and though he didn’t yet do much other than that, the hot breath he could feel through his shirt made Jack buck up in an attempt to throw him off.

“Hold still! Squirmy wormy, squirmy Jacky, my gosh!” “Faha- Fuhuck you-” “Oh, quit the swearing. I’m not going to stop.” His hands drifted up, nails easily drilling against ribs and finally coaxing out a howl of laughter as Jack threw his head back against the pillows. Accompanying this was an even more infuriating sound- a soft ‘oooomnomnomnom’ as he nibbled at Jack’s shirt- and the slight biting feeling only earned more laughter that had now reached a much higher pitch than he’d ever admit.

“Jeez, no wonder Virge likes this snack..” Though he heard the words, he had no time to process them- not now that Nick had deftly undone his dress shirt and buried his face against him, blowing a raspberry square in the middle of his stomach. “NooOOHOHO- AHAHA- NIHIHIHIIIIHIHICK!! NOT THE- THEEHEE-” “Oooooh, yes! That’s perfect, Jacky.” Though he had started pushing at Nick’s shoulders, the musician merely chuckled and pushed his hands up- and from how he started kneading his fingers into Jack’s underarms, the shocks it sent up his arms drained his strength almost completely.

“Tickle-tickle-tickle… Oh, this is rich. No wonder you like doing this.” “Nihihick- plehease-” “Pleeease what? You volunteered.” “Noho! I didn’t- ahAHAHA!” Another raspberry. If he’d been able to form a coherent thought, he’d be thinking about how awful that mustache of Nick’s was for such an endeavor- the way it brushed against his stomach sent shivers across his body and left him breathless from the laughter.

Nick hummed a little as he looked up, reveling in the fruits of his labor for a moment and relishing in the squeals of laughter that now poured from Jack’s smiling mouth. It really was inspiring- the way he thrashed about and laughed as though he were witness to the funniest joke on the planet.. One that Nick had…

That was it!

Nick rolled off of him abruptly, seizing the pad and pencil from where he’d landed on the floor. Jack was still giggling softly, gasping for breath as he opened his eyes and blinked- a disappearing act from Lightbearer was.. Definitely unexpected.

But he heard humming beside the bed, and after fixing his shirt, he peered over the edge to see the musician scribbling on his pad of paper, occasionally pausing to tap the eraser to get a beat before resuming.

He was only the slightest bit disappointed. As he made to sit up, though, Nick looked up- then huffed, standing once again and pushing him back down.

“Oh no, I’m not done with you yet, mister. This is a full song, not just one verse!” Shit. “Now, Nick- really, it can’t be that hard to-” “It is! Now hold still. Wait- I’ve an idea.”

He got on his knees, gesturing for a moment before finding his words.

“Roll onto your stomach. Hug a pillow if that helps.” He complied, and though many spots were now protected by the bed, he had a funny feeling he was going to hate whatever was happening- of course, this was only strengthened when Nick turned his back and settled to sit on his knees. He maneuvered in such a way that he could sit criss-cross, pulling Jack’s feet through his legs and yanking his shoes off with ease.

Oh no.

“Nick- come on, this is getting ridiculous..” “Not a peep! I don’t want any protest, I’ve got to focus!”

Nick hummed the part he was thinking of as Jack buried his face in a pillow- before, of course, using the eraser end of his pencil to poke rapidly at the magician’s feet. The steady stream of giggles he earned was muffled into a pillow- but it seemed like enough, and he started writing again for a moment before repeating his actions. Jack balled up a fist and slammed it against the bed a few times, his legs screaming that he kick but wholly unable to due to their position.

“Nihihick- come on, aren’t you done yet?” “Don’t be impatient! Hey, you ought to be flattered-” He paused, now poking between each foot with every word and relishing in the flurry of flustered snickers he earned-

“You’re~my~muse~for~this~song! Isn’t that exciting?” “Ihi- eheheh- I suppose…” “Hey, if this works, maybe we can try more often! God knows with that album I’m supposed to have coming up…”

A thrill shot up through his stomach, and Jack grasped at the pillow he was strangling to the point where he was certain it would rip. “I didn’t agreehee to ahahany such thing!!” “But you would! Or..” Nick swung around, now facing him properly and giving him a brief break-

“I can convince you~.” Jack’s eyes widened and he opened his mouth to protest- only to have a sudden wave of giggles come out instead, as Nick slipped his hands under his jacket and shirt to flutter his nails up and down the magician’s back and sides.

“Nohoho- you’re awful! Ahahawful!” “Oh, you love me.” “I hahahate ihihihihit!” Nick laughed along with him for a moment before landing a final pinch on one side and grabbing his notes again. Jack grumbled into his pillow, taking deep breaths to try and calm down. Of all the things Nick could’ve asked him to do…

But soon, they’d both gone quiet, and the scratching of pencil to paper began to slow- more pauses, more tapping, slight grumbling. Jack risked a peek over his shoulder, noting the irritated expression that Nick had.

“.. Something wrong?” “Well.. This next part. It’s less.. I need that giddy feeling. And it’s not coming.” Jack squirmed his way back onto his back and sat up, pulling his legs out from under Nick- with the lack of protest he must be pretty focused.

“That giddy feeling?” “Yeah. Like- when you take Joy for the first time in… No, that’s not quite it.” He hummed again, tapping the pencil on paper before groaning and shaking his head.

“Smilin’ like a little child, in a candy store.. Like that. Sort of.” Jack was content to watch, the look of focus combined with aggravation endlessly fascinating- and when the expression popped to a surprised look, his eyes widened. Surely not again…

“I’ve got it! I know.” And he tossed the pad onto the nightstand again before turning to Jack- this time, he was determined. Jack winced, a smile already tugging at his lips- but he was taken aback when Nick instead raised his arms above his head. “Tickle me!” “.. What?” “Well, it would work! It has before. That giddy feeling- you’re pretty good at getting it when you want.”

A more menacing smile now found its way onto his face, though a fairly endeared one. Of course, this was much more his speed… 

Though Nick had seemed determined at first, that quickly melted into nervous giggles as Jack’s hands pushed under his shirt, nails already scratching steadily at his sides. His arms swayed, wanting to come down from where he held them but staying up.. For now.

“Well, I must say, I greatly prefer this to your horrible torture. We should’ve started here, instead.” “Ghhheheh- thahat’s not- how it works!” “Well, it should be.” He chuckled quietly, slowly making his way up Nick’s torso and almost admiring his dedication- even when his ribs were the target of light squeezes, he kept up, though he’d folded at his elbows to clasp his hands behind his head as he trembled. 

“You- ha!- fucking, you’re a buhuhuhullyheehee…” “Isn’t that what you asked for? Please, Mr. Lightbearer, do clarify. You wanted me to tickle you, so I am- what’s the problem?” “Ghhhhheheheh…” Jack paused for a moment, hands resting on his ribs, before abruptly pushing up and drilling into his underarms. Nick yelped before squealing out more laughter, arms falling back down and locking as he covered his face. Judging by how he swayed, he’d probably fall if he wasn’t careful- so Jack carefully guided him to lay down, keeping at his torment the entire time.

“Go on, uncover your face- I’ve barely even picked up the pace…”

Nick jolted, then gasped through his laughter and finally pushed at Jack’s hands.

“Thahat’s- stooohohop, I neeheed to write!” “Aww.. Do I have to?” Jack pouted, but finally let go when Nick squeezed his arms down again.

“Yehehehehes!! Jack!” “Oh, fine.” He paused. “You actually have trapped my hands, though. Ease up.” Nick took a few deep breaths, slowly releasing his arms- squeaking at a final squeeze from Jack before he was released properly. Grabbing his notepad, he shook his hands out to try and get rid of the shakiness before bringing his knees up so he could write again.

“Cover your face… Hm- hmhmmmm.. Mmh, mmhmmmmm…” Jack tilted his head, trying to peek at the writing and huffing when he was swatted away. “I’m not done! No looking.” “Are you using my words?” “No- well, sort of. You’ll see.” He kept humming a few times before shifting so that his back was to Jack.

“.. Hey, do it again. But not so fast. I’m trying to nail the chorus.” “Do what?” “What do you think, you bully?” Jack snorted, settling on tracing his nails up and down Nick’s back- enough to earn a few snickers, and keep him content as he wrote. “What an effort, for a single song.” “You have no idea.” “Mmh, I think I have some. I’ve watched you write the whole thing.” “Yeah, well.. Shhh.” More humming- and quite a few giggles later- he finally set the pad down and pushed Jack’s hands away.

“Okay. That’s the first draft.” “Draft, are you serious?” “Well, I have to make sure it’s perfect!” Nick stretched, though he kept an eye on Jack- of course, the bastard’s hands twitched towards him, but he held himself back well enough. “It’s late. The best thing for me is to sleep on it. That’s why I write so late, so that I wake up with a little inspiration left over.” “Mmh, I see.” He faceplanted on the bed, reaching up to work off his wig; it was a mess, anyways, so it didn’t matter if he just threw it on the floor for later. Jack simply sat where he was, unsure if he was now overstaying his welcome.

“.. Lay down. Dork. You’re probably just as exhausted as me. It’s fine.” Though he hesitated for a long moment, he eventually settled next to Nick- the blush was back in full, but Nick didn’t seem to care. He slung an arm over the magician’s waist, already drifting off himself. Jack sighed softly, now not holding back the urge to gently comb his fingers through Nick’s hair.

“.. Good night, Nick.” “Mmnh, nighty night. Don’t run off.” It was the last request he had- and though he had other places to be, things to do.. Jack smiled fondly at the musician that now snored next to him. He was perfectly happy to wait.