#i always to make sure I'm doing as little damage as possible to everything even to my own detriment a lot of the time

[nexus-nebulae]

i want to remove my new shrimp's pringle bc i wanna whack people with the Plush Tube but it's sewn on so I'd have to use my seam ripper

it won't make holes and he will still have the pringle only he can share now

[buttercupblu]

Satoru's Psyche|Escalating

"Should I really have to suffer for my actions?"

Session 2 of 10|Previous Session

🗂️Patient Chart Update: Patient Gojo displayed extremely flirtatious and unruly behavior during the first half of his visit. Mentions of escape and kid-napping were noted as well as enforced close proximity with his nurse. Threatening remarks were also made at the end of his lunch in response to mentions of disciplinary action. Patient is scheduled for a bath but is pending the possibility of negative punishment to instill corrective behaviors. 📋Length of Session (w.c): 8.1k out of "i said we will cross that bridge when we get to it 😊" 💊Intake Chart (tags): mild violence but no in-action descriptors, coercion, manipulation, drug use, angst, unwatched close contact and touch, nudity, mentally unstable Gojo, Nurse!Reader ✏️Doctor's angel’s note: i hope you know what you're doing, Nurse 🎼Waiting room music: Overheated|Billie Eilish

Choose wisely.

Hunger stirs in your tummy, and Gojo's words sit with you through lunch. Your spoon clinks around the bowl, stirring the soup growing colder by the second though the growls from your stomach are too obnoxious to be ignored. But your mind wanders.

You're stuck. Earlier, you were all for serving up justice on a silver platter, but now you're seriously second-guessing your "genius" idea to punish Gojo by making him someone else's problem.

As if anyone would be crazy enough to say yes.

Everyone already avoids his wing like the plague. It's kind of an unspoken fact that you are Gojo's one and only. The only staff he allows near him. Anyone else would be playing with fire.

And if someone was brave enough to willingly throw themselves into the lion's den, they definitely couldn't be new. New to nursing—new to the ward. High expertise was needed here. Someone seasoned—experience which you lacked yourself—otherwise, they wouldn't last a second with Gojo.

It'd be way too easy for him to make them snap, like tossing a bone to a dog.

"Persephone." Yuko brings you out of your coma.

You perk up, instinctively smiling. "Hey, what's up?"

"You tell me," she snorts. "You've been playing with your food like break isn't over in 10 minutes." She touches your arm. "Everything ok?"

It's written all over your face, huh? You could deflate right now.

This is why Yuko is your favorite co-worker. Always reading you like a book without you needing to say a word. Quick to call anything off out.

Leaning back in your chair, you huff, rubbing circles into your temples to relieve the headache you didn't know you had.

"Yeah, yeah," you begin, "It's just—" You stop, her eyes hold so much concern and you've barely opened your mouth. Not sure if you should now because you know what kind of person Yuko is.

And if she knew even half of what you don't tell her during your lunch breaks spent complaining about work, she'd hang Gojo out to dry if she could. She often makes it very clear she hates you have to deal with him at all.

"—I'm just a bit tired. Gojo's scheduled for a bath later, him and two others. Gojo's easy but...I don't know. I feel slower than usual today. Definitely won't get home until late, again, because of all these sponge baths." You cringe at the last part.

Aside from trying to keep Yuko cool, you also didn't want to risk the news getting back to the Director who could take you off of Gojo completely. No one else could take your place. And who knows what would happen if you disappeared from his roster for good?

How would his threats manifest?

Yuko scoffs, waving her hand.

"Gojo and easy do not go together," and you both shake your heads and laugh. "But I get it. You did come in super early."

"Thought there'd be less of us," you sigh.

"Sonya's been on our asses lately, right? But hey, she finally got us all here."

"A little too late. The damage is done," you pout, resting your elbows on the table, realizing you've accidentally grown used to chaos and ever-changing schedule.

You routinely plan ahead to make sure you can stand up when people fall short. Constantly putting yourself on the back burner seems to be a thing that always set you back.

"Sooo, you just need rest, ya? Nothing else? Gojo—" there it goes "—been 'okay' with you lately?"

Your heart skips. "Ya. he isn't so bad today," you lie, "I'd just love to be home on time for once. Maybe even a bit early, I'm soo close. Overtime's been wringing my neck for weeks."

Yuko looks at you with puppy dog eyes. And not in a "I feel sorry for you" kind of way, but one that almost makes you feel bad for not telling her the whole truth.

"Here," she pushes your soup towards you, "How about I do Gojo's bath and you get an early start on my last two? That way you can at least binge that show you won't shut up about later." She smiles.

You immediately protest.

There's no way you can do that to her.

Yuko never even crossed your mind and was far from your first pick, not because she couldn't handle him but because she was your friend. Not just a colleague, but someone you actually cared about more than anyone else in this run-down job even if she didn't feel the same.

She's too good of a person, and you'd be the Devil Incarnate if you let her do something so risky. Especially when you can just suck it up and get it over with.

"Woah, woah, it's just a bath, calm down," she says, taking your hands in hers as you ramble on trying to convince her that you'll be fine or that you'll find someone else.

Burdening her was completely out of the question.

"Who else but me, Seph'? You don't you think I'm as good as you?" And the way she says it, giving you that look she does when you're being stubborn, dares you to challenge her.

Now you really had to think about what to say.

Goddamn it, you regret saying anything at all, but Yuko's so motherly, how could you resist? Hiding from her is impossible, she would've sniffed you out sooner or later.

Easing your pains when she could was her specialty—helping to calm and settle you down when you're quick to blow things out of proportion.

Could this be one of those moments? Or were Gojo's words more than just hot air?

The back and forth was killing you, but the combination of Yuko's reassuring touch and your gurgling stomach put the final nail in the coffin as she reminded you of the time.

Eyes wide, you look at the clock, ticking away faster than you realized, then back at your lukewarm soup.

Denying that you needed help would be silly because technically it was true. You probably should've asked the Director for a little Gojo break long ago, even if just for a few hours a few times a week. It was better than nothing because if you couldn't function, Gojo couldn't be cared for.

And when you really think about it, who better to fill in for you than Yuko?

The gutsy woman has been your rock since you started at the ward, She's had your back, sticking with you through tough times at work when staff constantly dipped in and out of the facility like a rotating door after being unable to handle the job.

A real day one.

Next to you, she's the most competent nurse in these walls, fully equipped with a "take-no-shit" attitude that routinely keeps her patiently in check.

It'd be silly, downright irresponsible to trust anyone else.

Her offer is simply too good to dismiss.

"Thank you, Yuko," you cave, grabbing your spoon and finally allowing yourself to enjoy your meal. "You're...amazing. I don't deserve you."

She looks on happily. "Just promise me you'll take some personal time after this," she insists, worry evident in her voice. "We both know how much you care, but even superheroes need rest."

She's too kind and right in more ways than one.

"Besides, I think Gojo will like me, ya? I'm cool. I'm fun. He'll like a friend of friend, you think?"

Your eyes roll—ya, totally, cool people definitely say they're cool.

You don't know whether to joke back or wave her off, softly smiling at her concern instead before nodding. You vow to make good on your promise and feel a bit lighter knowing your wish for early release will actually come true.

Maybe.

The latest threat to your miracle in the making is Mr. Hampton, who is personally making it his business to drag the already long day by its edges. Almost bringing time to a standstill with the way he's handling his bath.

Enormous and lumbering, the man Yuko usually deals with took his sweet time gathering his things and even longer trekking down the seemingly endless halls leading to the bathing area. Occupying every inch of the space like those massive trucks on the interstate, hogging the road, yet inching along at a pace that makes a snail look like it's in a sprint.

All that was missing were the yellow hazard lights.

Oh no, please, take your time, you think, watching Mr. Hampton clean each limb painstakingly s l o w in a tub that's comically too small for him. You may have been able to rush through Yuko's first patient, but this one wanted all that time back.

His pace resembles a giant's, and his cheerful nonsensical hums echo around the hollow chambers, lulling you to sleep, turning your eyes into bricks under the spell of the melody. Perfect timing for the energy drinks from early to crash you out, tag teaming with the chair beneath you that feels a bit too soft as you lean over the tub, willing the colossal man to hurry up.

Warm water flows over your skin as you scrub circles on his neck, deciding to bite the bullet and take over the bath so he can play with the foamy bubbles, when you hear a blood-curdling scream.

Your entire body goes rigid, shock reverberating through your spine and forcing you to halt as your mind goes blank. But steamy water brings you back to life, drenching your shirt and upper thighs when Mr. Hampton jumps from surprise.

The rude awakening makes you lock in.

The scream. It sounds like...no, you know it came from the west wing...where Gojo is.

And Yuko.

Hurried steps rush past your door, sounds of multidirectional distress and frantic shouts echoing through the corridor—staff members and patients alike swept into a whirlwind of panic.

You're number one, dropping the scrubber and scrambling to help Mr. Hampton out of the tub, hands shaking as he grips them.

A security guard bursts into the room, face ashen and jaw tight.

"Nurse! We need everyone in the west wing, immediately!" The command is sharp, laced with an urgency you've never seen before.

And immediately feel responsible for.

"There's been an incident."

Without another thought, you wrap Mr. Hampton in a towel, trying your best to assure him that everything is fine when your obviously trembling body said nothing was. His confused gaze follows you as you lead him back to his room, the commotion in the air moving him a lot faster than earlier before you rush back out heading straight for the west wing—where chaos reigns supreme.

The usually pristine floors, normally squeaky clean floors due to lack of traffic, are now barely visible. Staff members crowd the familiar hall for the first time since Gojo made it his own, filling the space with more bodies than you were used to and making it difficult to find the source of trouble.

Not like you needed to. The truth is painfully clear.

It's disrespectful even to even pretend you don't know exactly what went wrong, and your heart feels as if it'll burst from your chest any moment now just thinking about it. Crushing guilt wrapped you in its clutches, but it was nothing compared to the pain you might've caused.

You push through the masses, clumsily bumping shoulders, heart beating into your ears making the world seem quiet as you inch closer and closer to disaster. Dragging imaginary shackles on your feet with each step until you all but collapse once you spot it.

Gojo—barely restrained by guards, straitjacket nowhere in sight—standing absolutely furious.

And for the first time today, time seems to slow down, your mouth becoming suddenly dry mouth when you look past him.

Yuko.

Halfway out the door to his room. Sprawled out on the ground. Bruised, unconscious, and no signs of breathing.

Your hands fly to your lips, mouth agape. Murmurs from the crowd swirl around you as attendants rush to Yuko's side, knocking into your pathetic frame as you stand too frozen to move.

They gently pick her up, careful to handle her motionless body and place her on a stretcher. Her usually vibrant face is drained of color, twisting the dagger in your chest when you spot the subtle rise and fall of her chest. Fighting for breath.

Fighting.

It hits you like a hammer.

Someone as kind as her, so full of light, love, and joy, always greeting you with warmth and empathy and capacity every time she sees you, should never have to lift a finger let alone fight for her life. The sight is too much to bear.

Waves of helplessness crash over you and you can't even look at her. Regretting with every ounce of your being that you sent her in your place. Knowing this could happen. Concerned only with your silly wants and needs.

But you're so confused.

The ward should have weakened Gojo—Yuko should have been fine. The only threat Gojo has up his sleeve is mental torture but Yuko might as well be Freud. Her mind is sound, strong.

And that's where you fucked up, forgetting that Gojo's pure strength, especially when he's lost his fucking mind and triggered, is stronger.

Even with his security system in place, the devil was still powerful enough on his own. And like this was some sick and twisted experiment to figure that out, Yuko was the one to pay the price.

"I warned, I WARNED YOU!" Gojo's words pierce the overlapping voices like a sword, drawing everyone's attention to the strange interaction between the two of you. "I don't like to be touched by strangers, Nurse." Guards struggle to restrain him as he tugs and pulls away.

All eyes fall on you and you can feel the tense stares. The unspoken judgment.

Why was Yuko here in the first place?Where was Seph’?How’d he get out?How did this happen? 

You don’t know if the murmurs are real or only in your head, but the effect is all the same, making you wish you could completely vanish.  You stand like a deer in headlights—and they're so fucking bright.

Gojo brims with malice and amusement, chaotic energy pulsing from the hellish man and threatening to send sparks flying. As if he's daring someone to be brave and push the button.

But despite his outward display of dominance, the pure rage on his face making you feel sick to your stomach about every decision you've ever made, something...uncertain lurks behind those fiery eyes.

Something like...apprehension.

Like he knew he had done something wrong.

Words escape you, as if anything even needs to or could be said. But fear and guilt soon turn to anger and threatens to consume you. Ready to eat you alive and spit out the bones with disgust.

You are not a victim.

You have no right to stand here, spineless, shocked, or feeling even a little sorry for yourself.

Your fists clench as you hold back tears. 

What was done was done. And someone needed to pay.

But you exhale, thoughts shifting to Yuko as you take a good look around at the results of what happened the last time you decided to punish Gojo. All of your actions, even now, rooted in selfishness. Like you've learned nothing.

You push down the knot growing in your stomach and turn away to follow the medics.

Your friend needed you more than you needed revenge.

And Gojo didn't deserve any more of your attention, even if it meant risking your job or even your life to turn your back on him.

And there's nothing Gojo hates more than being ignored.

Struggled and strained noises grow louder. Guards tighten their grip on the fuming man whose raw strength outnumbered thousands of them even without his cursed energy.

You look back, their determination to keep him contained makes you nervous—you don't want anyone else to get hurt and Gojo knows that.

You're painfully aware that your decisions have put you in this position, watching the guards' valiant but increasingly pointless effort to prevent Gojo from causing further harm.

But it's an obviously losing fight, and the unease on their faces is unmistakably clear.

You wonder why they don't just run like hell.

"Let's go," a guard barks, but Gojo remains fixed in place. Moving a boulder would be easier.

"No, I'm filthy," Gojo protests, smirking, "And if I don't have my bath soon, there will be hell to pay."

He sees no one else in the room, eyes locked only on you, his expression a menacing promise that would send anyone else running for the hills. A look that says, "Try that shit again, and there will be casualties instead of mercy."

Reinforcements are called but it'll never be enough. Not even the goddamn military. Gojo...is the strongest, after all.

"Stop this."

Your cry freezes the room, plunging everything into a tense silence.

You hesitate, fuck, what should you do?

What can you do? No one else can suffer—no one else should suffer. Because of you.

You take a deep, shaky breath, silently apologizing to Yuko.

"I'll do it," you say firmly, "Just stop this and...and I'll give you your bath. Please—" The sharpest pang you've ever felt cuts through you. "—just don't hurt anyone else."

Pathetic.

But necessary.

He looks into your pleading eyes in surprise, amazement even, then smiles.

The submission in your voice sounded better than he could ever imagine. Like sweet music feeding his already inflated ego.

The guards exchange uneasy glances, clearly unsure of how to proceed.

Gojo's strength is undeniable, and it's evident that restraining him forever is not possible.

And you know offering to give him what he wants is risky as hell...but this was your doing. Your mess to clean up.

You squeeze your sweaty palms and give a decisive nod, signaling to the guards to let him go. They hesitate, then reluctantly agree and step back, leaving Gojo standing smugly before you.

You close your eyes and breathe, hating the idea of looking at him, but needing to stay strong. For Yuko. And everyone else in the ward.

Gojo's satisfied grin says it all.

Let's get this over with.

The squeaking of your shoes has never been this loud, each echo bouncing off the empty halls and reminding you of how alone you are.

Alone—with a psychopath.

A bit more docile, doped-up psychopath but, the man could probably still rip someone's head off if he wanted to.

Still Gojo despises anything that alters his body—mentally, physically, all of the above. Alcohol, medication, coffee, energy drinks—anything that threatens his need for absolute control.

But he also needed to compromise, and you refused to be alone with him again unless he took something stronger. Otherwise, it would be you, all the guards in the ward, and a pay-per-view premiere of his bath time.

He knew he had to agree because his ass is not for free, but only if you took it as well.

You blinked, hard.

You knew he would be skeptical—hell, it could be poison, and he wouldn’t blame you. But to suggest something so ridiculous?

"Half, then," he said, as if that made his suggestion any less idiotic, but, surprisingly, as you waited for your supervisor to dismiss the insane idea, the back and forth with Gojo actually didn't save you. And there was no need to ask why. The entire ward shot daggers at you any time someone walked by now.

She reassured you that you'd be fine, the mild tranquilizer would be out of your system by the end of the day, then patted your back as if to say, "lay in the bed you made."

It felt unreal, holding the familiar pill between your fingers, one you were used to dishing out but now had to take.

With a quick snap, you broke it in half, holding the half-pill out to the leering man. Gaze unwavering, he leaned forward and parted his lips, waiting.

You took a deep breath and placed them both on your tongues, but he couldn't pass up this opportunity to feel you and closed his lips around your fingertip with a quick lick before you snatched away.

But it wasn’t quick enough to avoid the tingles shooting up your arm as you swallowed without needing the water you had set aside, a confusing mix of emotions churning as it spread through the rest of your body.

He made good on his promise and swallowed his own, still watching you with a knowing look. And damn him, he's probably still thinking about it.

The guards carefully lead you and Gojo to his private bathroom—they're more there for show than for protection, but you'll take what you can get, and they keep a firm grip on his replacement straitjacket.

You trail behind, mind buried with thoughts of what to say once you're really alone with him.

The door shuts behind you followed by the familiar sound of a series of locks clicking shut. "We'll be right outside," one of the guards mutters, eyes shifting between you and Gojo. A stereotypical hint lacing his voice, but even he probably doesn't believe it.

"Perv," Gojo sneers. And laughs, but you don't find a damn thing funny, keys to his jacket digging into your palms as you spin around the face him, furious. Debating on whether to slap him, kick him, or knock his teeth out. Or be particularly evil and just let him sit in the shower, fully restrained and drenched in cold water. A move you know would do no good but show him exactly how done you are with his shit.

"That isn't funny. None of this is funny. You've hurt someone—you hurt my friend."

His laugh fades, smug expression slipping from his face. Even you're surprised.

...oh shit.

You're actually confronting him.

The intense words burn through his usual arrogance, leaving a heavy, uncomfortable silence between you.

Then, for a fleeting second, his face does something weird.

Something you haven't seen before as his eyebrows draw together. Is that...regret?

"I'm sorry."

The record scratches.

...the hell is this??

You squint at him.

The words were muttered, reluctant, but there they were, hanging in the air between you.

"It...won't happen again."

And he's serious, the same seriousness you see when his heart races when you take his vitals...but why? Because an apology? From him?? Unheard of.

Gojo has said some nasty things to you in the past that you've immediately scolded him for but he's never apologized. He'd make a note when certain jokes didn't land, but he never took them back, preferring to cut out his own tongue rather than waste his breath being sorry.

You know better than to take anything Gojo says at face value, but...what the fuck??? You almost feel offended.

He has to be joking, fucking with you to dig even deeper under your skin.

Or is he?

Now you don't know how to feel.

He's so good at that. Stealing the air back and hanging his words in them. Tempting you to pause and even consider if he truly meant them. If he could mean them. The mind games are endless.

But then, the familiar cockiness returns, along with that smile that twists your stomach into knots.

"Now," he says, strutting towards the stalls, "let's get this bath started, shall we?" And his easy, but confident steps call you to follow, a stark reminder of who you're dealing with. But he never knows when to quit. "Or should I really have to suffer for my actions?" and the bastard pouts.

Though you know he's being sarcastic and not to feed into his taunts, you can't help but wonder—what would suffering even look like for someone like Gojo?

Violence? Physical pain? A slow and agonizingly painful death?

But the guy is damn near invincible. What on earth could hurt him?

Whatever it was, it would have to be his absolute worst nightmare, but nothing comes to mind other than frustration.

Damn it, you have to keep making choices.

Return his energy or keep it professional? Tolerance or revenge?

"Apologizing won't cut it," you snap and gesture at his jacket, wondering how the hell he slipped out of the first one without leaving a trace. "And no tricks, or those guards will be back in here faster than you can tell another joke."

Smooth.

Gojo sighs sooo dramatically, like he can see straight through your little kitty claws. "Fine, fine. Loosen up," he drags, "I won't cause any trouble. Just don't go getting any ideas now, Nurse." He finishes with a wink.

He's insufferable—but despite your smoldering anger, tendrils of doubt still creep in.

Your fingers slightly tremble as you begin to unfasten his straps, but each click feels a bit like victory. A fragile illusion of your 'control'—at least for now because at the end of the day, Gojo had chosen you to listen to. And after today, he's sure you won't forget there isn't room for anyone else.

The jacket falls with a heavy thud, your eyes immediately scanning his upper body in search of any signs of injury or stress. The cascading bruises on his arms surprise you.

They feel so feeble in your hands, the jarring evidence of him not as invincible as he seems. Pale, weak, and resting between your fingers. Devoid of the power that makes him so feared.

"Never seen bruises before," and he tilts his head, "at least not on me"

You hope Yuko was at least partly responsible for the marks on the villain, but they appear self-inflicted, and he's not as mobile.

Fuck, now you'll have to bathe him too. But it's strange, seeing him like this. Even weirder knowing that he could still do damage in this state and you can't shake the feeling of this temporary 'truce'. If it isn't obvious by now, you've learned that Gojo always has something up his sleeve.

Warm water soothes you a bit, flowing over your fingers into the large white tub—pristine, imported from somewhere far away and standing on decorative claw feet. Your eyes wouldn't stop rolling the first time you saw it, completely annoyed with Gojo's over-the-top alterations and sense of style, but you'd be a liar if you said you never thought about sinking your body into it.

The best you could do was cope with the little porcelain tub in your apartment, and you get lost thinking about how you'd love to take a long, hot, and steamy bath when you get home—if you'll even have the energy. There's no way you'll be leaving early now, not like you deserve it, and feel sick even thinking about it. You doubt you'll even have a job tomorrow.

You look so defeated Gojo thinks, sauntering forward, lifting the hem of his shirt. You turn away, focusing instead on the temperature of the water but the rustling fabric as he pulls the shirt over his head and pants to the ground sends heat to your cheeks.

He certainly isn't lacking in physique, even in his current state, but still, you wonder how such a slim but toned frame could be so...powerful.

Could you be more obvious? Your flickering eyes are so telling, darting between him and the water, but he catches your gaze from the corner of his eye as if he's read your mind. So cute trying to hide away your thoughts.

You toss in his loofah, "Well...go on. Your water's ready." But Gojo can only grin, amused by your attempts to look away despite seeing his muscled frame a number of times. Still managing to fluster you.

"Your shirt," he eyes your top, "Your pants. Looks like you've already started without me."

The water stains from earlier sit beautifully across your chest, not yet fully dry, and drawing his eyes to your semi-erect nips.

His teeth tug at his bottom lip, eyes shamelessly raking over your hefty chest. "Always such a tease, aren't you, Nurse?"

You grit your teeth, cursing the swirling conflict in your easy heart, fully aware of the thin line between professionalism and this game of intimacy he just refuses to turn off. Everything was always a game no matter the circumstances. And he loves to push your buttons.

"Just get in, Gojo," you order, and after what feels like an eternity, the silence is broken by splashing water as he steps into the bath.

He slowly sinks in, sighing at the warmth of the water. Ringlets of steam engulf him, almost making his silky white hair disappear with it.

His arms string over the rim of the tub, a look of relaxation resting on his face as if he's had a long, hard day. You resist the urge to slap it off.

Sudsy bubbles form from the solution you pour under the faucet, hoping to shield your eyes from his body. You've seen enough today and expect the mini-rebellious act to piss him off, but as the bubbles grow, so do his eyes. He picks up a handful and actually starts playing with them.

"Nice touch," he adds, blowing them right into your face, and you watch with a tight lip as he decorates the bathroom with them, knowing you'll be the one to clean it all up.

He sits a crown on his head and gives himself a bubble beard, nipping your nose with some that you're quick to wipe away.

His pale eyes flutter, settling on you in a curious way.

He leans, arms flexing over the edge—steam-slicked sweat dripping down his face that he doesn't bother to wipe away. "I'm ready for my sponge bath," he says, and if it was hard to take him seriously before, it's damn near impossible now—especially with this ridiculous bubble mustache.

Sickening, him managing to still be so playful, so unserious, at a time like this.

You know Gojo's unhinged, yeah, quote, "mentally unwell and a literal danger to society, tf did you think??", but to nearly take someone's life and then make jokes afterward?

God, you feel so stupid, walking around him like you were the shit but with the wrong guard up the whole time, playing right into his hands and accidentally rewarding this grown-ass man who likes to play with bubbles.

The reality of your circumstances replays in your head, the story of how you ended up here, coddling this monster. Still confused as hell as to why it had to be you.

But then again, this was your job...right? To heal. To help those who can't help themselves. To offer redemption, no matter how twisted they seem.

Loofah in hand, you resist the urge to roll your eyes for the 400th time today. "Keep talking like that and I'll stop, Gojo," you say, reluctantly drenching the tool in soap before gently washing his back.

He sinks into your touch, closing his eyes and letting his body completely rest on the cool cast iron, breathing. Feeling like he's won no matter what you say because your scrubs feel like magic.

Across his arms and over his broad shoulders, you work your way down, bubbles glistening in your trail as you're careful not to miss a single inch of skin but don't linger too long.

Every now and then, you catch glimpses of his marked skin between the foam and because you hate yourself, your brain absolutely refuses to give you a break. You have to give kudos to the dedication to his craft. The muscle definition, the scar tissue telling stories of battles won. Evidence of his past before corruption. Everything it takes to be a hero.

It's unsettling, yet fascinating, the polarity between his beauty and his monstrous deeds.

This is another first for you, this level of care. Gojo usually just hops into the shower and takes care of himself as you wait outside—easy and thorough but always taking his sweet time, all while loudly singing some annoying song that inevitably gets stuck in your head.

But after today, it'll be impossible to trust him or you again, and the hushed whispers as the guards walked you both to the restrooms made that abundantly clear.

The pitiful thoughts seep into the way you hesitantly clean him, moving down to his chest and abs and making sure to avoid more sensitive areas, but the malicious glint in his eyes is unmistakable.

"Whatsamatter, Nurse?" Gojo taunts, feeling you slow around his lower region, "Afraid of gettin' too close?" And you can't believe you're praying for a speedy recovery so he can handle this himself.

You ignore his comment, trying to get this over with as quickly as possible. You're humiliated enough as it is and he can sense it, mocking you with a laugh.

"You're so uptight. Can't you just relax and enjoy the view?"

You want to scrub his cocky brow right off his face. "Just doing my job," you mutter, twice squeezing the loofah that feels a little funny in your hand as the soapy water rinses his chest.

The water feels heavenly on his skin, but the subtle change in your movements makes his brows furrow. Slowing, more deliberate, heavy as if you're wading through molasses. You keep adjusting your grip but the material feels so strange—the texture almost too soft like it could melt into your palm.

Your breath catches when you brush his skin, not realizing how close your fingers drifted to the edge of the sponge, and though it was only a second, it sends an unexpected jolt through his chest.

The muscle relaxers. How could you have already forgotten, you both think.

But Gojo, ever observant, doesn't miss a thing.

His eyes narrow slightly as he watches you. "Feeling a little funny, Nurse?" his velvet voice teases.

"I'm fine," you lie, though you couldn't be less certain as the muscles in your hands start to relax more than you intended, the sponge gliding over his abs, down his sides, rhythm almost hypnotic and making the man's head fall back. You try to push through the haze, to finish quickly and be free of him, to try to regain your slipping control, but you're in a losing battle against numbness and heightened awareness.

ANd God, he has to bite his lip at your touch that feels so intense, a sensation too good to keep to himself that you obviously need to stop being such a tight-ass.

You need to loosen up in a way that medicine can't help. And Gojo knows just the trick.

He licks his lips, tongue curling over his canine before splashing a wave of water on you in one swoop.

Saying you gasp is an understatement as the steamy wash drenches your face and front once again. You've been hit not once, but twice in a day—a new personal record.

Instinctively, you reach up to shield yourself, the loofah slipping from your hand, but Gojo is quicker, wrapping his hands around your wrists and holding you in place.

A scream prepares to surge from your body when Gojo maneuvers both of your wrists into one hand and places a finger to your lips.

"Ssssh ssh ssh ssh ssh," he hushes, his voice a little too calm, "I'm not going to hurt you." He swipes a lone droplet hanging from your eyelash. "I just want you to listen."

You freeze, nerves on fire as you're forced into this close proximity for the second time today. Inches away from his face that softens.

Though you can easily call for help, you know better than to argue—he knows you know better but he never felt threatened in the first place.

Besides, he can feel your breathing slowing, the effects of the pill combined with his firm hold sending a faint buzz from your wrists to your stomach. His finger remains on your lips as he brings his closer.

"Now," his eyes flicker to your bottom lip, "You're so very good at your job, Nurse." He smoothly pulls it with his thumb. "That's why I like you. You're thorough but real. Just what I need to keep me sane."

Sane?

"Sane," he repeats like he's heard your thoughts. "Believe it or not, you keep me grounded...like a good boy. Be proud, not a single soul here or anywhere else can compare to my strength, let alone deal with me yet...here you are." He looks at you like you're a marvel.

"You can handle that...can't you?"

Words fail you. This feels rhetorical. Why does he keep torturing you like this? What is it about you?

You haven't really thought about it since your first few weeks with him but now he's forcing you to think about the little 'power' he's given you that he can easily snatch back.

What happens if he decides to go further than flirting?

You can't handle it, any of it, any of this.

You hesitate, unsure of what to say but know it could never be the truth.

Gojo must sense it because he leans closer, his breath warm on your cheek.

"If you leave, I just might crack completely, beauty." A breath you didn't realize you were holding slips. "How do you think everyone else will fare against me then, hmm?"

Gojo knows he's a prodigy, yet he still manages to surprise himself sometimes, eyes lingering over the spots on your uniform soaked through just enough to make the fabric cling—perfect aim.

Ice shoots up your spine from the heat of his unadulterated gaze, but you refuse to let him see you falter. He almost feels a prick from the daggers you throw with your eyes.

"Oh, don't be like that, Nurse," and he purrs, thumbs grazing your wrists in a mockingly gentle touch. "We all have our boundaries, right? I thought communication was key in a relationship."

"Let go of me," you find your voice, "We're done here."

Gojo slightly tilts his head.

Look at you calling the shots, he thinks. So strong, so very serious.

"God I can't help it," he breathes, "You're so fun to mess with."

He could laugh in your face, have his way with you, and show you that your resistance means nothing.

Instead, he slowly releases your wrists and lies back against the tub. "I know you think about it—there's nothing wrong with a little fun...right?" and though the connection is severed, you don't know if it's the drugs or just him that makes his amplified touch linger as you sheepishly rub your wrists.

Gojo watches you blush red—thoughts you didn't know lived within you rushing to the forefront as if he's pushed a button.

Grimy, raw, salacious, unwanted thoughts of forbidden fruit, wandering hands, and stolen touches in the dark. Wondering what his idea of "fun" was like under the sheets. With a psycho named Gojo.

You feel like you should throw up in disgust but the nausea never comes, instead you burn between your legs.

Fuck, you've got to get out of here.

You draw a breath, forcing away the torturous daydreams and quickly finish his bath.

"You should rest," you firmly say and pull the plug to let the tub drain. "And don't expect any more favors from me."

He sits up slow, his expression stone-cold as he slicks back his wet hair. Then he smiles. "I promise. Now dry me off?" he quips.

You ignore his request, swiftly handing him a towel before he can flash you. Gruffing, you lower to your knees and begin drying the floor of his messes, hoping to distract you from your questionable sanity.

Rustling fabric fills the chamber as he dries off, and when you figure it's safe, you look up to a nude Gojo. Still dripping with bubbles, hair plastered to his derpy face, and toned muscles, all the muscles, presenting themselves in all their glory.

The only things dry are his damn hands.

He throws the towel over over his shoulder, sauntering towards you with a wicked grin.

"Well, aren't you gonna help me put this thing back on?" He nods at the jacket he knows is more bullshit than security. "Don't want you getting all worked up again."

The first time your brain registered that Gojo was flirting with you was on your third day as his nurse.

"Well, aren't you a breath of fresh air?" Gojo was sitting on his bed, leaning against the wall. It was the second time he'd noticed how sluggish you looked while tending to him, suggesting with a grin that you must be quite the party animal.

Ha. If only.

You tsked, tossing his bedsheets into the hamper, and assured him that your sleepy eyes and dragging feet were the result of long hours and running on fumes. Having time for fun was just a dream.

"I don't get out much myself," he says, alluding to the situation he's in, wearing sarcasm like a necklace. "I love a good night in as much as anyone else but, I don't know. The stuffiness hasn't grown on me yet."

You tugged the collar of your scrubs—the air did feel a bit thick, like the room hadn't been aired out in ages and you couldn't help but wonder how long he'd been sitting in it—how he could. That alone would be enough to drive you up a wall.

Sunlight flickered in your eyes, and you raised your hand to block it, noticing the small window perched above his chair.

"Ah, let's open this then," you said, walking over and wrestling with the ancient wood for a moment before finally pulling the creaky flap up to the ceiling.

Standing on your tiptoes to reach it, a sliver of your midriff peeked out, but what captured his attention most was the way the sun rays washed your face. You scrunched your nose, the breeze sending wisps of your hair to tickle it, and he imagined the feel of them between his fingers.

The view was beautiful, you thought, hands gripping the warm bars. Trees surrounded the vast area, stretching out as far as you could see, the pathway to civilization completely covered in dense forest from this angle.

You never realized how high up his ward was—or how long the drop was from here.

"Too bad I'm not small enough to slip through those bars." He rubbed his stomach. "But you know me, 'Mr. BigBack.'"

He joked around as he usually did, looking to trigger your defenses, but your sentiment was...odd.

This was the first time anyone had cared to do something so simple for Gojo. And the closest anyone had gotten to him without their knees buckling.

The first two days of your trial, the Director had guards posted right outside of Gojo's door, their presence a constant reminder to stay alert and maintain a safe distance from the convict and Gojo was positive the mental barrier would keep a wall between you forever.

But then you laughed. A real laugh. Snickery and cute. Finding his joke funny instead of threatening.

It surprised him, that sound. And he wanted to hear it again and again and again.

"Who knew you could bring so much light into this place?"

Later at lunch, you sat with Yuko, having your usual midday catch-up. You never start with yours but she, like most people in the ward now, was absolutely dying to hear about how you were dealing with the villain of the century.

"He's actually not so bad...yet. Corny, but," you took a pondering breath, "He kind of thanked me today?"

She immediately scoffed and waved you off and who could blame her?

You were the anomaly he chose to show mercy to and now he was thanking you??

Being polite was too far of a stretch to believe, you must have been mistaken. But when you gave her the deets on why he'd do such a thing, she nearly choked on her apple. "He said that??"

"Ya?" You patted her back with a concerned look.

"Watch out, Casanova." She cleared her throat and did a nervous laugh.

Her comment threw you off for the rest of lunch, but when you thought about it later that night while surfing for new shows, a light bulb went off.

He flirted with you.

Thinking it was just another one of those literal dry-humor jokes or simply gratitude for making his stay a little less crappy, it flew right over your head. You always feel warm inside when you help people so you didn't think too much about it.

To you, it was just a kudos. Nothing more.

But the way the stands in front of you now is everything.

As bold and brash as it gets.

Fuck. Me.

And your body betrays you, sending all of the vulnerable sensations you've been fighting to suppress from your soaking chest, tingling wrists, aching thighs, and heavy breath, straight to your throbbing clit.

Air escapes you and you scramble to grab your supplies and leave.

Enough is enough. The guards outside can restrain him and escort him back to his room for all you care. You just have to get out of there.

Away from him.

Away from temptation.

Hot, overwhelming, guilty, mentally and physically unstable temptation.

In the quiet of the hallway a level below Gojo's ward, you lean against a wall taking deep breaths, completely disgusted with yourself.

How are you supposed to keep dealing with this, with him?

He keeps pushing and pushing and pushing you to the edge until there's nowhere else to go. You can only imagine the hell the nurses he didn't like went through.

Taking care of him isn't getting any easier, and now you were fucking up and making mistakes.

But you're the only one who can do this. Who must.

So suck it up. Play along, Stop thinking only of yourself. Pretend.

Pretend.

Pretend?

...

What terrifies you the most is the thought that you may not have to.

You keep your scrambled thoughts to yourself when you're called into your Director's office at the end of the day.

You tell him the same story you told Yuko and take full responsibility for what happened, blaming it on exhaustion and needing a break. Swearing to never let it happen again.

By some miracle, you get to keep your job, though your one wish to leave early ended up costing you an hour and a half of unpaid overtime, and almost a friendship.

When you finally get home, you collapse onto your bed—images of the day, the ward, Yuko, flooding your thoughts, refusing to be pushed aside. You tell yourself that it's all just the guilt talking, just anxiety gnawing at your edges.

But then there's Gojo.

The most prominent one of all.

Staring you in the face with lifeless eyes and a ghostly smile. Tugging on your moral strings like a puppet.

When you close your eyes, you can't shake the feeling that he's waiting for you, a lurer in the shadows awaiting your every move.

Leave it. Leave it. Le—

You find yourself scrolling through your phone, deep-diving the web for information on your tormentor.

His past, his affiliations, anything to tell you who Gojo was, and who he is now.

The man is an anomaly.

Not much is known about him outside of mainstream news and internet rumors.

He's just this guy that kind of popped out of nowhere in the worst way possible. Conveniently on the tail of what could have been the most devastating incident in the history of Tokyo.

The media says he's a hero gone rogue but not much else. They damned him to hell and that was that. Even the Director disclosed very little about him during your briefing and you weren't allowed access to his files or records because it's all 'confidential'.

Nothing.

The more you search, you less that comes up. Not even silly conspiracy theories that you definitely thought would be riddling Reddit. The longer you scroll, the more you find yourself beginning to question your own sanity. Your interest. Sweet little buds of obsession.

Even though you hated taking it earlier, you actually need the pill now more than ever to relax, sleeping eluding you and mind wandering to imaginary scenarios as you stare at the ceiling. 

Tomorrow, you'll have to face Gojo again. And the day after that and the day after that and every day after.

In between your nearly non-existent off days, you'll have to seem him and decide what face you want to put on.

Because you simply cannot walk away.

After all, he's right—no one else can handle him like you can.

extended angel's note:

when i originally decided to make this into short story, i had no plans on using a y/n perspective. it was just going to feature an OC name i’ve used in stories before, named Persephone, buuuut i decided to wanted to keep it immersive and include no physical descriptors/personality specifics bc i knew i wanted to upload it to tumblr. 

to keep it reader-friendly, yk? 

alas, Persephone has had her claws in me the entire time i’ve been editing and said with her whole chest that i couldn't just dismiss her like that chile. so i decided changed the perspective but keep her name in place of y/n. 

you won’t see it too often in the story bc it’s not super significant or said a lot in general, bUT it is relevant for a certain moment later in the story. you’ll know when you know 🤭. 

anyway, hope it doesn't bother you guys too much. and def feel free to mentally plug your name when you see it to keep yourself grounded into the story.

tag list p.1: @reddiamondjazz @kiwismoother @rune1920 @blkkizzat @suguwife

@xerroe @enthyn @gloomuri671 @ressyshi @startatdawn

@khenanadeche @heijihatsutori @inluvkai @ixqiix @strawnanamilk

@rosso-seta @05-simply-06-simping @sims-4lifers @bratidol @rh-tg1

@hyunsuks-beanie @n1vi @luna-v-roiya @neteyamsluvr111 @supsiii

@natadecoco30 @chiyokoemilia @ririoutspoken @kyoxko @strawberrymilkshakes-posts

@nen-nyy @cinnamorochiroll @kazeniya @maybe7tommorow @sxnkuna

@misoyuh @lupitalove @sebastianlover @gojosatorubrainrot @sleepiebunniee

@mmmidkman @theonecrackhead @thathorsegotpoobrain @iveivory @samistar

@yuuan-66 @gojoslefttoenail @soyalovestoyap @winkwonks-world @thebiggestsimpforyou 

[runninriot]

Damn You, Capitalism!

inspired by and written for @sidekick-hero , hope that helps getting through the day 🖤 because work sucks (i know!) - but eddie sucks harder 😏

1.231 words | cw: contains smut, nsfw, mdni

also on ao3

Steve has been drowning in work lately, it's a nightmare.

Eddie tries his best to support him, to make things as little stressful for him at home as it can possibly be.

He keeps the guitar unplugged when he's working on new music, to keep the noise at a minimum.

Always makes sure there's some meal ready for Steve to grab and microwave when and if he remembers to eat.

He reminds himself to do the dishes as soon as he's done with them because he knows how much Steve hates when the sink is full of dirty plates and forks and mugs.

Eddie even finally figured out how to use their new washing machine - he's not stupid, just lazy, and- why does that damn thing need so many buttons?

So, yeah. He's trying, really, because it breaks his heart every night when Steve comes home from work, looking one moment away from collapsing. Always tired, always moody, just- miserable.

Eddie wishes he could do more. Wishes he could take some of Steve's stress away, help him relax. Ease his mind just for a while.

And- look, he knows what would probably, most definitely help, that's not the thing. The problem is, Steve can barely even stay up long enough to kiss Eddie goodnight as soon as they're in bed. So any attempts of trying to have some one-on-one quality time with his husband aren't really up for debate right now.

Right?

Right.

He'll just have to wait for this massive project to be over and done with.

---

As Eddie crawls into bed shortly after Steve, he finds him quietly snoring, already fast asleep with his face mushed uncomfortably against his pillow.

Even in his sleep, he looks exhausted and it makes Eddie mad how much that job is demanding of Steve.

He pictures himself in front of the corporate building that holds his husband's soul captive, angrily stomping up and down the pavement while waving a sign that reads Damn You, Capitalism! and the thought makes him laugh.

He realises too late that he's been making an awful lot of noise, instantly shuts himself up with a hand over his mouth when Steve stirs awake and looks at him through bleary eyes.

   "Is everything okay?"

Steve sounds knackered (he learned that word from his British co-worker) and Eddie hates himself for ripping him out of his well-deserved sleep.

   "I'm sorry, baby. Everything's good. I didn't mean to wake you up. Just go back to sleep, okay? I'll see you in the morning."

Eddie leans down to kiss his forehead before he turns off the light and lays down next to him, trying to be as still as he can to let Steve drift off peacefully again.

But the damage is already done. Even without looking he can sense that Steve has trouble falling back asleep and it’s confirmed by the heavy sigh Steve lets out.

   "Can you-" His voice flitters quietly through the room, "Can you suck my dick?”

    Oookay, what?

Eddie can’t help but snort at those words.

Steve must be dreaming. Maybe he did fall back asleep after all.

   “I’m being serious, Eds!” Steve sounds almost offended.

He then rolls to the side and even in the dark, Eddie can see his big eyes staring straight at him.

So, not sleeping, then.

   “Babe, are you sure? I’m just asking because- well, we haven’t done anything for weeks and I miss it. God, do I miss it. But you’ve been completely out of it not even 5 minutes ago and-“

What the hell is he even going on about?

His perfect, beautiful husband wants him to suck him off. Why the fuck is he still babbling instead of using his mouth to do exactly that?

   “I just think it’d help me sleep?”

Steve uses that honeysweet voice of his, the one he knows Eddie can never say no to, the one he always uses to get what he wants. And- like, what is Eddie if not a very devoted, very helpful, very loving husband that would quite literally do anything for his man?

---

Steve’s boxers are gone as quickly as the blanket before Eddie makes himself comfortable between his husband’s spread legs.

It’s almost embarrassing how much he’s already drooling just thinking about the perfect weight of Steve’s glorious cock on his tongue but- excuse him for not keeping his excitement in check when he’s literally been suffering from Steve-withdrawal for weeks now!

Still, he tries to take his time, not wanting it to be over too quickly. He can hear in Steve’s pleading moans that he won’t last long, can taste Steve’s desperation in each drop of precum that hits his tongue as he licks the tip.

It’s heaven.

It’s so good Eddie wants to cry.

    Fuck, he missed this. Missed the familiar stretch of his lips when he takes Steve in, the familiar sound of Steve’s husky voice, the scent of freshly showered skin, the feeling of sinking deeper and deeper on his lover’s cock as he swallows him down like he’s starving for it.

His hips can’t seem to keep still, wiggling and rubbing against the sheets where his own cock is searching for friction. But his focus is on Steve, he can take care of himself later. This is just for the beautiful man that is the light of his life – he deserves it. Deserves to be worshipped like the divine creature he is.

   “Ed- Eddie, oh God! Oh fuck!”

Steve’s words spur him on. He finds the perfect rhythm, uses one hand to pump Steve’s cock while his tongue curls around the tip. His other hand strokes the sensitive skin on his inner thigh, dragging his nails up and down, knowing too well that it drives Steve just a little insane.

   “Babe, I’m- I- fuck! Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop. I’m so close!”

Eddie wouldn’t dream of it.

Not when it makes him so happy to hear and taste and feel his husband slowly falling to pieces. When, with every staggering breath, Steve crawls a little closer to the edge.

Until finally, Eddie is rewarded with a mouthful of Steve’s love; a sweet gift, despite the bitter taste, he swallows with pride, not wasting a single drop of it, taking it all in.

Beneath him, Steve’s trembling through his orgasm, legs shaking and breath uneven. He stops Eddie with a hand in his hair, tugging just lightly to make him look up.

   “Com’ere, baby. Wanna kiss you.”

A little reluctantly, Eddie leaves the perfect place between Steve’s thighs and crawls on top of him to comply.

They kiss slow and soft, no hurry, just their lips finding each other in the dark with gentle pressure.

   “Love you so much, baby,” Eddie whispers against Steve’s lips as he feels his movements slow down.

And as he kisses his way from Steve’s mouth to his cheek, to the tip of his nose, his closed lids and his forehead, Steve’s breathing eases into a steady, calm rhythm.

He’s asleep again, hopefully dreaming of beautiful things as he sinks deeper into Eddie’s embrace, lets his husband's warmth envelope him where they’re lying side by side.

Steve deserves it.

Because tomorrow, he has to fight his way through the constricting clutches of capitalism again.

Man, capitalism really sucks.

But, Eddie laughs to himself, he can suck harder.

[barcaatthemoon]

end of an era || jenni hermoso x reader ||

things don't always get better, but jenni tries to help you.

major angst warning, like implied/mentioned suicide attempt angst. proceed with caution.

everything and everyone went silent the moment you fell. it was daunting to watch back as you replayed the stream of your last game over and over again. jenni sighed as she glanced over at you. the two of you had been waiting in the doctor's office for hours now to see how your surgery had gone. both of you knew that it was going to be a long and hard road back, one that you honestly weren't even sure you'd have the chance to attempt.

"will you turn it off please?" jenni asked you. she was beyond trying to be nice about it. you got upset every single time that you watched it, and jenni hated hearing you get hit and go down again and again. she hadn't been there for that game, and it was one of her greatest regrets.

your teammates had told jenni how you had been immediately following the game. jenni almost couldn't believe it, not until she saw for herself that every ounce of happiness had been sucked out of you. you had become obsessive, attempting to figure out where you could have done something to reduce the damage. rather than listen to the countless people who had assured you time and time again that it was a freak accident, you still searched for an answer.

"it's not like i have anything else to do," you grumbled. jenni was really starting to get on your nerves. she was always a little annoying, but it had gone from being endearing to infuriating. "they're just going to tell me that i'm finished. my career is over, even if i can make a comeback. it will be too fucking late, jenni."

"no. no, stop talking like that. you're gonna be fine," jenni told you. oh how you wished that the doctors hadn't made her out to be a liar. jenni believed her words right up until the surgeon came in with a team of people that neither of you had ever seen before.

you felt numb as they gave the time frame of your possible return. it would be well over a year since you required multiple surgeries to fix the tears and breaks. you didn't understand how you had fucked up your body so badly, and it was obvious that jenni didn't either. however, you weren't left wondering for very long. the doctor mentioned old injuries that hadn't healed properly, claiming that your leg was a ticking time bomb that had been resting for nearly a decade.

"that was a waste of fucking time," you grumbled as you rushed towards the car. you were on crutches, so you weren't really moving that fast. jenni had slowed her pace down signficantly to keep up with you. she was carrying your bags, something that you only let her do today because she normally did it for you anyway.

"no, we have a timeline now. that's a good first step towards getting you back to where you need to be." jenni sounded so optimistic still, but you knew that it didn't matter. you'd miss the olympics, and you'd definitely have to retire by the next world cup. your time was running out, and it had essentially been cut in half by your injury.

"jenni, i'll be lucky if i ever get to step foot on a pitch again. let's just get home. i need a fucking drink." you got into the car, ignoring the look that jenni gave you. she was worried about you, despite you technically not doing anything worrisome yet.

you were depressed, and rightfully so. jenni had hoped that the doctors would have some good news for you, but they hadn't. your mood reflected that in the coming weeks as you moped around until you were cleared to start your physical therapy and rehab. your schedule for that was pretty light, especially since you had at least two more surgeries before you were in the clear.

jenni was great, and despite it being her off season, she didn't go back to spain. instead, she had moved temporarily to america to take care of you. you could tell that the move was hard on her, but she couldn't think of letting you stay by yourself. she was afraid that you'd do something stupid or dangerous if she left you alone.

you hated it, and because of that, you started to hate her as well. you hated that jenni kept looking at you like you were made of glass. you hated that she touched you so gently whenever all you wanted was for her to hold you down against the mattress and make you forget the past four months of your life. you hated jenni, and even more so, you hated that she never showed any resentment towards you.

there was always only ever going to be so much that jenni could handle. ten months out of your injury with only one more surgery to go, it all came crashing down around the two of you. the cracks in jenni's patience with you were starting to show, so she had taken a little vacation to spain without you. it wasn't for more than a few days, but it was long enough for your anger to betray you and turn into complete despair.

you had a family history of being fucked up. addiction, depression, anxiety, and a long list of other issues had plagued nearly every other member of your family for as long as you could remember. your parents had both tried to prepare you for the worst of it, and for a time, you thought that you had seen it. you had forgone taking your pain medicine because you had been terrified fo getting hooked on it. there never should have been so many pills in the house, but jenni knew she couldn't have just taken your extra ones with her to spain.

you wanted to call jenni, but she'd talk you down. you didn't feel like you deserved it. you had treated her so badly for nearly a year, to the point where she left the continent to get away from you. however, you believed that you owed her at least a text. something to thank her for taking care of you and apologize for being such a piece of shit for so long.

the time zone different meant that jenni should have been fast asleep. you didn't count on jenni being wide awake at 2 am. how could you have known that she hadn't been sleeping well since you got hurt. the vacation to spain should have been relaxing, but jenni couldn't quiet the voice in the back of her head warning her that you still weren't doing any better mentally. that was why she hadn't even finished reading your text before she was calling some of your american teammates to check up on you, hopeful that it wasn't too late.

…

"i'm here! i'm here!" jenni was nearly tripping over herself as she ran into your hospital room. she stopped when she saw you. you had expected her to start yelling at you or something, but instead she just broke down in front of you.

"i'm sorry," you apologized. jenni tried to tell you not to be sorry, but she couldn't get it out. all she could do is kneel by your bed and cry as your hand weakly ran through your hair. "it should have worked."

"i-is that how you really feel?" jenni asked you. you realized that wasn't at all what she wanted to hear, and suddenly you were filled with guilt. all of that hate and anger that you had felt before came back, but this time it was fully directed towards yourself.

"yes," you whispered. jenni wiped her eyes and stood up as she stared down at you. "i've been awful to you. how can you still love me?"

"are you fucking stupid?" jenni regretted her words as soon as they left her mouth. for the first time in months, jenni finally saw you cry. "shit. shit, shit, shit, c'mere. i'm sorry, i didn't mean it like that. i love you, i want to see you get better."

"jenni, i'm not sure that there is a better. what if i come back and this happens all over again? i think that i need to retire and take some time by myself," you told her.

"a-are you breaking up with me?" jenni asked you. there was a flash of anger in her eyes, one that completely overshadowed the hurt. "i took care of you for almost a year. i waited for you to get better, to be yourself again because i love you so much. you can't just make a decision like this by yourself, not when you aren't in the right headspace."

"jenni, they're keeping me here on a hold for a while until i can prove that i'm okay. i'm selling my place here. i don't want us to be over, but i think that if you can find someone who actually deserves you while i'm gone, then you should go for it. and if you don't by the time that i'm better, then i'd really like you to consider letting me come back to you," you told her. jenni didn't like the sound of that, but it wasn't a clear breakup. it was a break, if anything, and jenni knew for a fact that she wouldn't find someone else unless you actually forced her to. "i've already been let out of my contracts, they're just waiting to make the announcements."

"i wish that you'd reconsider this, but i am glad that you can make rational decisions," jenni said. you nodded as you gave her hand a little squeeze. there was a chair by your bed, but jenni crawled right in next to you. she had a couple days to stay with you before you were moved to the facility that you'd call home for as long as it took you to get better. jenni didn't know when you'd be back, but she kept a calendar to keep count of the days you were gone.

[megxplryxb]

How Can it be Over When it Never Really Started?

Pairings: Colby Brock x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Slight mention of smut, Kat and Sam's break up is discussed (no sides taken), No mentions of y/n

Notes: I haven't written for Colby in over a year so please be kind, I know i'm a little rusty.

The Las Vegas air was hot and sticky as you reluctantly opened the car door, removing yourself from the refreshing air conditioning of your BMW. The car locked with a beep as you tossed your keys into your handbag, rummaging around for a clip to tie your hair back, already feeling uncomfortable in the warmth of the desert. Dry gravel crunched under your converse, the hot sun already kissing your skin as you approached the entrance of an all too familiar house.

Everything looked as it did the last time you’d been here. The overgrown bushes at the side of the house still needing to be trimmed, the walls still screaming for a fresh coat of paint and the lights you’d all hung up for Christmas still dangling from the trees in the yard. But while things looked the same, the feeling was completely different. It was strange, quiet and sad. Any other time before today, you’d have walked in, skipping through the house, singing and dancing, looking for Katrina, but she didn’t live here anymore and that’s exactly the reason why you were here now.

Kat and Sam had broken up three weeks ago, ending their seven plus year relationship which came as a shock to many. While it was mostly amicable, she just couldn’t bring herself to return to the house she had shared with her ex boyfriend to pick up the last of her things. So instead, you had volunteered to go, wanting to make things as easy as possible for her.

It had been a rough couple of weeks for your best friend, the break up hitting her hard and she'd never felt more alone. Kat had been staying with a friend for the last couple of weeks, tying up some loose ends before she left Vegas in the rear view mirror once and for all. You arrived yesterday, driving to Sin City to help with her move back to LA, knowing that she needed you now more than ever. Break ups were never easy and you wanted her to know she didn't have to go through this alone.

Taking a deep breath in, you pressed the ring doorbell, stomach in knots as you waited patiently for a response. Sam knew you were coming, you’d organised it with him yesterday to make sure it was ok, not wanting to completely blindside him upon your arrival. Of course he didn't mind. It hadn't been easy for him either and you were sure he was just as heartbroken as Kat.

“Hey, I’ll be right down.” You heard a familiar voice say through the speaker, your eyes widening upon the realisation that it wasn't Sam. Fuck.

“Oh hey, yeah cool, take your time.” You reply, moving back from the door, tugging at your bottom lip nervously, a sudden feeling of uneasiness creeping up on you.

There was a slight shuffle on the other side of the door before it opened and you were met not by Sam but by his best friend Colby, who you'd slept with two months ago.

“Hey stranger, long time no see." He smiles, pulling you in for a hug, wrapping himself around you. His scent was intoxicating, warm and comforting and you hated how much you had missed being in his arms.

“Hi.” You blush, reluctantly pulling away from him, avoiding his gaze until he closed the door behind you.

“You could have just walked in y’know, like you always do.” He teases as you shake your head, shrugging. “I didn’t really know what to do honestly, I guess it’s just kind of weird now that Kat’s gone.”

“Hey, you know you’re always welcome here, right? That’s never gonna change.” Colby states but you’re not sure even he believes that. You’ve seen how break ups go, how it damages not just the couple but the friends involved too.

“How is Kat? I texted her a couple of times but she hasn’t really been responding.” He frowns, biting his bottom lip. You could see the sadness in his eyes, he was hurting too. You all were.

“She’s doing ok. I mean, she’s devastated obviously but she’ll get there, it’s just going to take some time.”

“Yeah, I can’t imagine what they’re both going through right now. Sam is so quiet, he’s not really talking about it much.”

“Where is he anyway?” You look around, noticing the place was oddly quiet.

“He kind of chickened out last minute. I think he was afraid you were going to murder him, so he went for a run.” He jokes but you know he’s also kind of serious.

“Why would I do that? I mean, he just broke my best friend’s heart, it’s no big deal.” You reply sarcastically.

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I kind of want to kick his ass too.” The black haired boy smiles and you can’t help but notice how utterly beautiful he looks right now.

“He knows I don’t hate him, right? Like, I wish I did because it would make things a hell of a lot easier but, at least he was honest y’know? He didn’t string her along or cheat on her. I’m just sad it didn’t work out for them.” You admit, holding back your tears.

“I know, I am too, it fucking sucks.” Colby sighs, throwing an arm around you, trying to pull you closer to him but he feels how reluctant you are to lean into him.

“I better get this stuff packed into my car. We’re heading back to LA in the morning.” You say as Colby nods his head, the corner of his lips turning downwards, leading you to the kitchen where Katrina’s things are laid out on the dinning table. There’s not too much left, just some clothes and shoes, bits of make up and unopened post and a framed picture of you all at the beach from last summer when Sam and Kat were still happy and you and Colby hadn’t blurred the lines of your friendship.

“That was a good day.” Colby chuckles from behind you. His hot breath hitting the back of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Yeah it was. They looked so in love here.” You frown, running your fingers over the picture.

“They were.” Colby agrees, holding the other side of the frame. “You looked so beautiful that day.” He whispers, causing you to shake your head.

“Yeah right.” You laugh, rejecting his compliment.

“I’m serious. Shit, I remember seeing you in that bikini for the first time too. All of the guys were looking at you and that douche bag asked for your number, remember?” He quizzed, causing you to chuckle. You remember it like it was yesterday, the guy strutting towards you while you sunbathed with Kat. He’d been so cocky, certain he was leaving with your number until you ran to Colby, kissing his cheek. Pleading with him to go with it and pretend to be your boyfriend. He did it without a second thought, arms draped over your body, nuzzled into your neck, placing little kisses on your shoulder until the guy got the hint and left you alone.

“Of course I remember, you wanted to kill that guy.” You tease, turning to face Colby who looks at the picture once more. “Yeah, I did. Fuck, I was so jealous.” He curses as you furrow your brows, a little surprised by his admission.

“Why?” You ask, your breath hitching as he takes the frame from your hands, placing it on the table.

“You know why.” He insists, his lips hovering over your own, backing you into the table as your heart fluttered.

There had always been something between you and Colby, an unspoken attraction that neither of you dared to explore until two months ago. The timing for anything other than a friendship had never been quite right, one or both you seeing other people. But he had always been flirty with you, sharing subtle touches or glances when no one else was looking and for the longest time, that had been it. That was until New Years Eve, at a house party hosted by Jake and Tara. Colby had been by your side all night, getting your drinks, laughing and dancing and when the clock struck midnight his lips were immediately on yours, like he’d been waiting an eternity to kiss you. It only took you a moment to kiss him back, his hands finding a home on your hips as you wrapped your arms around his neck, ignoring all the whistles around you, your friends screaming that it was about damn time.

Not long after, you arrived back at the house, the kiss not being enough for either one of you, both of you needing more urgently. Colby had quickly dragged you upstairs, undressing each other before you even reached his bedroom, lips never parting as he pressed you into his mattress. It wasn't what you thought it would be like, it was slow and sweet and Colby took his time with you, afraid he'd only get one chance at this. The next morning you awoke in his arms, limbs still tangled under the sheets until you managed to wiggle your way out without waking him, leaving before you had to have an awkward conversation about the night before.

"Colby, I can't do this right now." You sigh, shaking off your thoughts as you move away from him again.

“Do what?” He asks, raising a brow.

“Do this, whatever this is..” you state as he lets out a deep breath.

“Are we ever gonna talk about it?” He questions, folding his tattooed arms across his toned chest.

“What is there to talk about? It was just sex, wasn't it?" You shrug, causing him to scoff and you swear you can see a look of hurt on his face.

“We both know it was more than that.” He states, staring at you, almost begging you to be honest with yourself.

“When has it ever been more than that for you, Colby?” You argue, taking aim at his long list of conquests.

“When it was with you." He answers honestly, leaving you shocked. “That night when we kissed, I thought that was it, you know? That me and you were finally on the same page about us. But when I woke up the next morning you were gone and I never heard from you."

"I wanted to save you the trouble of telling me it was a one time thing." You admitted, lowering your head, embarrassed to look at him right now.

"That's all you thought that was to me? Do you not know me at all?" The boy asks as you let out a nervous laugh.

"Yes, I know you Colby, which is exactly why I left! I've seen your countless one night stands walk out that door the next morning, hoping that you'll call them again and you never do! You just move on to the next one and I'm not judging you, that's who you are. I just didn't want to be one of those girls that expected more from you." Colby looks at you, shaking his head, a prominent frown on his face as he walks closer to you. This time you don't move, frozen still as he cups your face.

"But that's just it, you're not like those other girls. There's always been something between us, more than a friendship, more than just sex. You make me laugh more than anybody, I don't have to pretend to be someone else when I'm with you. You've seen me at my worst and you got me through it, you Kat and Sam. Baby, I was an idiot for so fucking long, dating people I shouldn't have dated, being friends with people who I didn't even like. But I know what I want now and I want you. I want everything with you." He confesses, as you try to hold back tears.

"Colby, I..."

“What, honey? Tell me what you want?” He asks, his face inches away from yours and you could easily kiss him right now.

You know exactly what you wanted. When it came to Colby Brock, you’ve always known.

You’ve wanted it before he ever put his lips on yours, before you ever let him take you in his bed all those weeks ago and before he ever muttered that you were his as he came deep inside of you for the first time.

You wanted him, all of him but you knew that was something that just wasn't possible right now. Just as you were about to speak, the front door opened and closed with a gentle bang, footsteps approaching the kitchen as you quickly broke apart.

"Hey." Sam spoke, removing his headphones as you placed a loose strand of hair behind your ear. His eyes moved to Colby, who he knew would chew him out for this later.

"Hi." You greeted, moving to give him a hug.

"I'm sorry, I totally just interrupted something didn't I?" The blonde boy questions as you shake your head.

"Yep." Colby nods as you shoot him a look.

"No you didn't, honestly. I was just leaving." You reassure Sam but Colby takes your hand. "Please, don't go, we still have things to talk about."

You bite your lip, eyes focused on Colby as he pleads with you to finish your conversation.

"I really need to pack Kat's stuff."

"Hey, it's ok, I'll take Katrina's things to your car and leave you guys to it." Sam says as you give him a thankful nod. Once he's gone, Colby moves towards you again, his hands finding yours as you look into his ocean blue eyes, trying not to fall deeper than you already have.

"Colby, you know how I feel about you. Jesus, I was never good at hiding it." You joke, earning a small laugh from him as his fingers circle your palm. "But, right now, Sam needs you, like Kat needs me. We can't be together when they're like this, still heartbroken and lost." You state, beginning to choke up.

"Why not?" Colby questions, raising a brow.

"Because if we're together and one of them eventually moves on with someone else, it's going to get messy. They'll fight about it, they'll ask us to take sides and then we'll fight about it and probably break up and both be miserable too! Everything's just too complicated right now, not to mention we'd have to do long distance because I'll be in LA and you'll be here and–" You ramble on as Colby places his forehead on yours.

"It kind of sounds like you've already thought about this a lot." He teases, as you wrap your arms around his waist.

"Being with you, is all I ever think about." You whisper before he captures your lips with his. For a moment, you finally give in to him, melting into his touch as he deepens the kiss, sliding his tongue over your bottom lip before he slides it into your mouth. He swallows a moan from within you, pressing you up against the counter as you grab his shirt, trying to pull him impossibly closer.

"Fuck, you're so beautiful." He groans, placing wet kisses on your neck as you throw your head back. Suddenly, your phone vibrates in your pocket and you know it's Kat checking up on you. You had asked her to call you to make sure you didn't accidentally end up in Colby's bed upon your arrival and you were sure you would have ended up there if not for your best friend saving you at the last minute.

"Colby, shit, it's Kat." You whine as he finally detaches his lips from your skin. Once you told Kat everything was ok and that you were on your way, you hung up, both of you attempting to catch your breath.

"I really have to go." You state as he nods his head, pulling you close once more.

"Look, I know you think things might get complicated but that's only if we let them, right? I want to try and make this work, I want to be with you no matter what happens between them. I've honestly never felt this way about anyone before and I don't want to lose you." He confesses, kissing your hand as your knees almost go from under you.

"I don't want to lose you either." You reveal, a tear sliding down your cheek as he wipes it away.

"So, can we do this? Me and you, like officially?" He asks, grinning like an idiot as you shake your head.

"Slow down Mr. Brock, you haven't even taken me on a proper date yet." You tease as he kisses you again. "Oh, so it's like that huh?"

"Yeah, it's like that." You chuckle.

Well lucky for you I'm coming to LA next week, so how about I take you out then?" He suggests, as you wrap your arms around him.

"If we do this, we take this slow ok? Start with a couple of dates and see how things go?" You suggest as he nods in agreement.

"Sweetheart, we can go as slow as you want, just give me a chance to show you how happy I can make you?" He begs but you already know the answer.

Yeah, Colby Brock was a risk worth taking.

[notgilderoylockhart]

Interview with the Vampire | faux rebind

When my copies of Interview with the Vampire, The Vampire Lestat and Queen of the Damned arrived I was shocked to discover that every single one had a sticker on the cover. Except it wasn't a sticker. It was PRINTED on the cover. Who does that?

And after finishing the first book I wanted them to match the vibe of the show. So I do what I always do when I love a book. I rebind it. Not a full rebind, I still wanted to preserve the cover after all, but a faux rebind, a protective book jacket that would look great on my shelf and keep the book from getting even more roughed up. I'm using the tutorial made by bindrebindery on TikTok or on Instagram . I love her work, she's incredible.

The first thing we gotta do is measure our book. It needs to be extremely exact, since we'll be working with millimeters here. The width of my copy is 10.4cm, and its height is 17.5cm. As per bindrebindery's tutorial we'll subtract 5mm from our width measurement and then add 3mm.

10.4 - 0.5 + 0.3 = 10.2cm

For the height we'll just add 3mm to the bottom and the top, so 6mm each

17.5 + 0.3 + 0.3 = 18.1cm

And for the back, we just copy the height measurement of 18.1cm and simply measure the width of the back which for my copy was 2.3cm.

I'm using 2.5mm thick cardboard and I would also suggest investing in a box cutter and a self-healing mat to not damage any of your surfaces. Now that we've got our pieces cut out, we can draw where we want to glue them to the book cloth. The space for the hinge in between the cardboard pieces depends on how thick your cardboard is. It's the width of the cardboard times 2 plus 5mm.

2.5mm x 2 + 5mm = 10mm

So the gap in between is 1cm wide.

We're also leaving a 2cm gap all around. I also like to invert-round the corners, to make it easier for me to fold it down later, but it's also possible to just trim off the excess on a straight line.

Now it's time to cut and glue everything down. I'm using bookbinder's glue for this and folding down the long pieces first. While the glue is drying I'm cutting out 2 more pieces with the measurements of our cover. These will be the sleeves that will hold our book in place.

I'm folding it and making sure it's not too tight on the book so it can slide in and out easily and then I'm cutting off the excess, a little more than 2cm in this case.

I also spent a hot minute designing a few embellishments. I got a few sheets of vinyl to play around with, to test my new cricut and ironed them onto the velvet, which worked fine for the bigger pieces, but those pesky little letters just did not want to stick. It took me a hot minute to iron each letter on individually. But it was totally worth it, I think. I love the look of it.

Look at that shine. Gorgeous.

Now all that's left is glue on some decorative endpaper, turn it over and go over the hinges with something (I like to use the bow handles of my scissors) and add our sleeve-pieces. I also like to slide in some paper just to make sure the glue dries properly and doesn't seep out and (God forbid) glues the sleeves shut. And that's it.

[toboldlygohome]

"I'm not giving up on you!"

Leonard McCoy X Reader

Summary: Following a terrible attack on the Enterprise, Dr. McCoy does everything he can to save the heavily-injured reader.

Character(s): Leonard "Bones" McCoy

Warning(s): Wounds, Death, Implied violence, Ends in fluff

Dr. McCoy carefully navigated the sea of bodies, careful not to step on any one of them. The Enterprise had been boarded little more than thirty minutes ago. Bones followed the path of destruction, hoping to find some survivors. No such luck.

McCoy scanned every body for signs of life, but yielded no results. He grimaced and trudged onward. He hated this feeling of powerlessness. So many good people were dead and there was nothing he could do about it. If only he had gotten down here sooner, maybe there wouldn't be so many casualties.

Leonard rounded a corner and was disappointed to find even more bodies strewn all over the floor. But amidst the flashing red lights, he saw you. You were leaned against the wall, blood staining your blue uniform. His tricorder picked up your heartbeat and he immediately hurried to your side.

"Hey, can you hear me?" He asked, snapping his fingers near your ear. Much to his surprise, you slowly opened your eyes.

He couldn't believe you were alive, let alone conscious. Your arm was a mangled mess of burns, you had a massive laceration in your lower abdomen, you were sitting in a pool of your own blood, and you had a terrible concussion. Your groan came out as more of a choked gurgle.

Leonard wasted no time in prepping a hypo to ease your pain. "Can you speak?"

"Yeah," You managed weakly.

"That's good. That's really good. Can you tell me where it hurts?" He asked.

"It hurts everywhere," you murmured.

"Perfect."

"Perfect?" You asked.

"It means you still have feeling in your limbs. That's a really good sign," Bones jabbed the hypo into your arm and started digging into his bag. He had to get you stable if you were going to have any hope of surviving this. "I'm Dr. Leonard McCoy. Can you tell me your name darlin'?" He asked, trying to ease you into a sense of calm.

"Ensign Y/N Y/L/N. Biology department."

"On, I know about you, you're the one who wrote that dissertation on the possible medical uses of Aldebaran Serpent venom. You graduated top of your class in the starfleet academy. I heard you've got a promotion coming up." Leonard said, hoping to keep your mind alert. He didn't want you passing out with that concussion, not until he was sure there wasn't some internal bleeding going on that his scanners weren't picking up.

"Yeah, if I make it that far..."

"You're gonna make it, trust me." He swallowed. You could see it in his face. The chances of you living weren't very high.

"You're a terrible liar doctor McCoy...I'm gonna die here, aren't I?" You whispered.

"I brought the captain back from the dead using the blood of a homicidal maniac. I've performed greater miracles than this. You ain't gonna die, not if I have anything to say about it." He said, already working to disinfect the gaping wound in your stomach. "Just keep talking to me, can you do that?"

"I'll try..." You struggled to keep your eyes open. "I-I... I smell something burning..."

"Don't worry about that." Leonard said firmly. "Just...tell me about..." He grasped for a topic that wasn't your maimed body or the smell of burning hair. "Tell me about home. What's your family like?" Leonard started to autosuture the laceration.

You ignored his question and tilted your head down to look down at the damage. Bones grabbed your face and forced your eyes up to his. "Don't look at it. Just look at me, okay?"

"Mkay...nice face at least." You smiled weakly.

"Oh?" he got back to his work, but kept talking. "I've always been told I got a face only a mother could love. What's so nice about it?" He asked.

"You have pretty eyes... and..." You lost your train of thought.

"And what darlin'?"

"Huh?"

"I got pretty eyes and what?" he asked, fighting against the knot appearing in the pit of his stomach. He didn't know you, but he'd like to. You were a tough cookie and he respected the hell out of it. He could see it in your eyes. You still had so much to offer the world... the universe. He couldn't let you die like this. He wouldn't let you die like this.

"Oh...I like your...your forehead wrinkles...makes you look distinguished," you attempted another smile.

"Gotta say sweetheart, that might just be the nicest compliment I've ever received." Leonard met your gaze for just a moment before returning to his task.

"Well, I've got more where that came from..." You leaned your head against the wall and looked at the ceiling. "...Might throw up..."

"If you feel like you are, just tell me. Okay darlin'?"

"Mkay..."

You both fell into silence and Leonard labored to think of some way to get you talking again. The autosuture wasn't working fast enough for his liking. He still had about two and a half inches to go. If he didn't work fast enough, you were gonna die.

"...Everything's all fuzzy. Cold." You murmured. A low rumble echoed through the halls as if punctuating your dark statement.

"I bet. You lost a lot of blood, but you'll be okay." Leonard clenched his jaw.

"There are others...gotta help the others McCoy. I'm a lost cause."

"You are no such thing. I'm saving you dammit." He didn't have the heart to tell you the other people in the hallway were already dead. A sudden, sharp jolt shook the ship. Leonard grunted as he tried not to fall into you.

"I'm gonna die... I never even got to ask out that doctor. Never had the guts..." You mumbled, eyes struggling to focus on anything.

"What doctor?" Leonard asked as he continued closing you up.

"Y'know. The grumpy one." You said.

Leonard's expression darkened. He was trying dammit, but not nearly hard enough. You were growing delirious. You didn't even realize what you were admitting to him. Your eyes fluttered closed, but you kept talking.

"I don't really know him, but he saved a friend of mine once... He's uh..." You gathered your thoughts. "He's real smart. So dedicated to his patients. I really admire that... Also got this dry sense of humor, and a really handsome voice. I wouldn't have minded taking him out sometime. Buying him flowers." You hummed.

"He's the kind of guy you bring home to mama, I think...Well...My mama at least." You looked at Leonard, eyes swimming with grief. "I'm not scared. You have to tell her for me. That I wasn't scared...I have people back at home. Can you tell them I love them?" You whispered, just as Leonard finished closing your abdominal wound.

Leonard breathed a sigh of relief as he started wrapping you with a bandage. "You're gonna tell them yourself darlin'. You're gonna make it, you know why? Because you're strong. Resilient as a rubber band." He tied off the bandage and started going to work on your arm. "I'm gonna get you stable and we'll get down to the medbay, then you'll make a swift and miraculous recovery, just in time for you to earn the rank of Lieutenant. How does that sound?"

"..." You didn't respond.

"Y/N?" He asked. Your eyes were closed. Your heartbeat was growing fainter by the second. "No No. Dammit, come on! I'm not giving up on you!" He emptied hypos into your arms and legs. A cocktail of medicines were brewing inside of you, fighting to keep your heart beating. He waited with baited breath for your readings to change on his tricorder.

Eventually, your heartbeat grew stronger and your breathing deeper. Then, to his astonishment, you opened your eyes again.

"Welcome back, you gave me a start there." Leonard flashed a relieved smile.

"Sorry...didn't mean to fall asleep," You smiled back.

Suddenly, the red lights turned off and the hallway lit up in its usual bright white light.

"I know darlin'. You're awake now, that's what matters." He pulled out his communicator. "Nurse Chapel, do they have the bastards detained?... Good. I need a stretcher on deck 15, as well as a recovery team. Prep the protoplaser and the burn chamber for the arrival of ensign Y/L/N." After her confirmation, he hung up and pointed his scanner down the hallway to see if there were any more heartbeats. Nothing.

Bones sighed and hung his head. The bastards were thorough, he had to give them that. He found only one survivor out of how many hallways? He was curious about how the security team managed to take them down, but that would be a conversation for a different time.

"Goddamned bloodthirsty space beasts..." He hissed.

"Tell me about it," you chuckled. "Certainly did a number on me, huh?"

"How are you feeling?" Leonard leaned against the wall beside you.

"Numb all over... I suspect you had something to do with that?" You turned your head to look at him.

"I injected you with a hypo for pain relief right when I found you." He met your eyes.

"Funny. I don't think I remember that."

"You're definitely on the loopy side. Can't tell if it's from the blood loss or an adverse reaction to the medicine, but we'll figure all that out soon."

"You can go now. Someone's coming to get me right?"

"You ain't getting rid of me that easily. I'm staying with you until your stretcher arrives." He crossed his arms.

"But there's got to be others that need help too, right?" You closed your eyes. "I'm fine, you should help them."

"It's against protocol to leave a critical patient alone. I'm not leaving until your ride arrives." Just then, he heard the sound of the hover-stretcher. "Speak of the devil, it's about goddamned time." He stood and addressed the two nurses. He spoke to them in hushed medical lingo. You had no idea what he was talking about, but it didn't sound good.

Leonard helped load you onto the stretcher. "I'm passing you off to Nurse Bell and Nurse Valinsky. They're going to take great care of you."

"As opposed to you taking bad care of me?" You smiled tiredly.

"Very funny," He smirked. "I'll catch up with you soon. Don't miss my face too much, you hear?"

"You're asking for the impossible, Dr. McCoy," You joked. The nurses guided you down the hall and around the corner. Leonard stared out at the crowded hallway, hoping his recovery team would arrive soon. Until then, he would just have to look for living patients on his own.

A doctor's work is never done.

~~~

When you awoke, you felt heavy. It was dim in the medbay and all was quiet, save for the occasional beeping of the biobed. You attempted to sit up, but winced the moment you put pressure on your arm. From the shoulder down, your limb was covered in bandages. You felt a deep ache all the way through your body and decided it was best to lay back down.

You tried to remember how you ended up here, but everything after the initial attack was a blur. You remembered the grumpy doctor, you remembered him mentioning your dissertation, he said something about pretty eyes, and you remember being so tired, but trying so hard to focus on him.

You looked around the room, hoping there might be a nurse nearby. Instead you found a room full of people sleeping in biobeds. There was a light on in the office at the end of the room, but you had no way of knowing if there was actually someone inside.

You scanned the controls to your left until you found a call button. Once you pressed it, you heard shuffling in the office. Much to your surprise, Dr. McCoy came shambling out.

"It's about time you woke up," Leonard took a look on your screen to check all your vitals. As you watched him, the events of your last encounter came flooding back. Distinguished forehead wrinkles? Seriously?

"Your heart-rate is kicking up," Bones smirked "Is that because of me?" He joked.

You rolled your eyes, "how long was I out?"

"About forty-eight hours."

"Two days?!"

"Better keep it down darlin'. Don't want to wake the neighbors." He slowly raised the bed into a sitting position and handed you some water.

"Thanks," you said hoarsely, "I didn't even realize I was thirsty."

"That's what I'm here for." He grunted as he copied some data from your biobed to his PADD.

"Bringing me water?"

"Keeping you from dying of dehydration," Bones corrected.

"Aw, and here I thought I had my own personal butler," you smiled and sipped your water. 'He really does have pretty eyes,' you thought while watching him work. Who were you kidding? It wasn't just his eyes that were pretty, it was all of him. You cleared your throat and took another sip. "Anyway, what are you doing here so late? I didn't think you worked gamma shift."

"I normally don't, but there are a lot of reports to file and not a lot of time to do it."

"That bad huh?...How many dead?" You asked softly.

"Fifty-six," Leonard sniffed pulled out his kit.

"Damn... and what about the pirates?"

"In custody back at Yorktown." Leonard administered a hypo into your arm. The soreness melted away almost immediately, but the ache in your chest didn't.

"I would have been one of them if it weren't for you..." You whispered. "You didn't give up... even when you should have."

"Any doctor worth his salt wouldn't give up on the likes of you, not when you were so keen on living. Ain't seen nothing like it in a long time. Your body just kept going long after it should have shut down." Bones explained, "And you kept telling me it was hopeless, but I could tell you were hoping for a miracle."

"So you gave me one," You smiled up at him.

"I told you I would. They don't say I have legendary hands for nothin'," McCoy smirked.

"Still, thank you for not giving up on me," you laughed. "I definitely owe you one."

"Ask out that doctor of yours and we'll call it even," Leonard spoke so casually, you nearly didn't register what it was he just said.

"I-I- my what?" You asked, dumbfounded. Your heart-rate picked up again and Leonard couldn't mask his amusement.

"You should get some rest, Nurse Chapel will be by in a few hours with some food for you. We're putting you on a soft food diet until your internal wounds heal some more. If you need anything before then, you know where the call button is." Bones started back to his office, but stopped just short.

"Oh, and Y/N?"

"Y-Yeah?"

Leonard sent you a smug look. "I like daisies," He said before disappearing behind the door.

You laughed and rested your head on your pillow. 'Daisies huh?' You thought to yourself. You weren't sure how you were gonna pull that off this far from Earth, but if Dr. McCoy could perform miracles, why couldn't you? Of course, the flowers would have to wait until you were released from medical care. You didn't mind too much though, Dr. McCoy was going to be there to take care of you.

And he wasn't giving up on you anytime soon.

....................

Taglist: @shadowbriar

If you want to be added to my taglist, feel free to reach out!

Thank you for reading!

[lost-girl-2021]

Adopted Spider Headcanons (Metkayina Edition)

I've been reading fics where Spider's adopted by Ronal and Tonowari the past couple days and now I'm obsessed. The problem is that I mostly write angst and I really wanna read hurt/comfort, lol.

I feel like the typical/common way that I see Spider get taken in is basically him doing his little beach bum shit after everything and slowly getting adopted into their family. And I eat it up. Every. Single. Time.

Spider: *Building a campfire, roasting his own food* Ronal/Tonowari/Tsireya or Anoung: *Why is the Sully's adoptive son alone on the beach?* *Oh well, mine now*

I feel like Ronal would definitely be way at first, she's made it no secret that she strongly dislikes Sky People. But, I'd imagine that eventually, she comes to see him not just as a human, but as a child. And a child who is alone and in need of help.

Aounung would probably be the same. I have this idea of him giving Spider a hard time (after all the carnage/damage/dead people have been handled). Like, trying to mess with him as much as possible, just being an asshole. And then, maybe Spider goes under for a long time while Aounung is on the beach weaving or something. And, even though Spider has a mask and can breath underwater as well as he does above it, Aounung somehow forgot that and freaks, thinking the human has drowned.

Aounung tossed his half-repaired net aside, diving into the water. He whipped around, eyes catching on the mess of dirty blond. Pushing further, he grabbed the boy by the armpits, shooting to the surface and pulling the human onto land. He flipped him over, meeting confused eyes as he placed a hand on his chest. He was breathing fine, not even panting from being under for so—

Spider's mask glinted in the sun. Aounung was an idiot.

"Are you . . . okay?" The smaller boy asked hesitantly, making no move to sit up.

"You were under for a long time." He mumbled, pulling away.

Spider's face split into a grin. "Did you— did you think I was— "

"Quiet." He hissed, standing up. "We will never speak of this again."

Spider's laughter followed him as he stormed away.

I feel like with Tsireya, she would've immediately been all over him. Like, this is Spider, Lo'ak's supposed best friend. The human boy who acted just like he was Na'vi. It probably started mostly as curiosity, but I think that after seeing how the Sully's interacted with Spider, she'd be confused about his place, his family. If Spider didn't sleep in the Sully's marui, didn't eat with them— then where did he do those things?

Tsireya glided along the water, Lo'ak a few feet from her. "Why doesn't Spider stay in your marui?"

Lo'ak raised a brow. "Uh . . . I don't know. He lives with the humans, I guess. Always has."

"But . . . the humans left after helping Kiri. They have not returned."

"They . . . they haven't?" He cleared his throat. "I'm sure Dad has it handled. There's probably a new shack or something for him."

Consider Spider's mask running low and there isn't a spare anywhere. As a kid, he never was gone from the shack long enough for his battery to run low and during his time with the recoms, there were always spares in someone's pack when he needed it. Idk how long the masks last, but for my own sake, I'm going to say Spider got a new one the day of the battle and it lasted him about a week. Or maybe, he managed to pillage one as the ship went down so he's on his second and it's like two weeks or so.

I think that when he saw the little red light flashing, a small beep-beep sounding, that he'd probably be like a kid who forgot there was a test. He'd just panic. But, I imagine he'd also be scared to bother the Sully's by telling them, so he'd spend the next hour searching the village (discreetly) to see if there were any pilfered batteries or masks left behind when the humans visited. Let's say he has two hours from when the mask starts flashing to change it out. And where, oh where, does he wind up when he's got a half-hour left?

Spider was not panicking. Because, when a human panicked, they breathed faster and wasted more air. Norm told him that, so it had to be true. But, he'd checked everywhere he could think of and . . . nothing. There was no shack, no Norm or Max to run to before his timer ran out. No humans. Only him. And in a matter of . . . fuck, twenty minutes, he was going to die just like a human.

He sat slumped on the beach, looking out into the water and trying his best not to openly sob. He didn't want to die crying like a little baby. It was not working out well for him. At least, he'd have a good view when he died.

"Child? What is wrong?"

Spider flinched, looking up with wide eyes at the clan leader. He'd only talked to Tonowari once, when Jake had introduced him. Of course, given his spectacular luck, the man would find him when he was on death's doorstep.

With a sniffle, he held up his beeping pack. "It's almost out. Twenty minutes."

The man frowned down, grasping the device carefully. "And that is why you're so upset? Because, you don't wish to go into the village for a new one? Did something happen? Someone make you feel unwelcome?"

"There is no new mask." There was also no home to go back to. "That was my only one."

With a cut-off gasp, he pulled Spider to his feet. He marched the boy through the village and into what he recognized as the healer's marui. The Tsahik was mixing something, but she stood as soon as they entered.

"Tonowari?" She asked, stepping closer. "What happened? Is he hurt?"

"His mask, where's the spare?"

Wordlessly, the woman pulled a mask from one of the many baskets, easily connecting the tubing and turning it on. Like, she'd done it before. Spider had no time to ask why she had such a thing before she was right in front of him.

"Take a deep breath." She ordered, unlatching the straps of his mask before pulling it off. Just as quickly, the new one was secured. Spider hadn't even moved.

I think that even before deciding to adopt Spider, Tonowari and Ronal would probably make sure he had spare masks and check what food he could/couldn't eat. Like, as soon as they realize the Sully's aren't caring for him, they'd probably subconsciously take responsibility for him. Because, he was just a kid, really. And kids were clumsy and careless and needed help, needed parents. Anoung and Tsireya, despite being independent and skilled, still needed their parents sometimes. Let their mother do their hair and insisted on their father de-gutting their catches. And Spider— Spider is fragile. He's skilled and smart and quick on his feet, but he's a human surrounded by Na'vi. Not to mention, one wrong move and he's left with a cracked mask. And what if he eats the wrong food, mistakes one fruit for another and ends up poisoned?

This ended up way longer that I thought it would be, lol. But, I really love these types of fics and if anyone has any recs or wants to hear more, my comment section is open. XD

[absolutebl]

Do you have any recent recommendations for JBL TaiwanBL and KBL? Been rewatching only bls from 2021 2022 and I feel like I'm out of the loop for the more recent ones.

Maybe something from this year or late last year?

Great JBL, TaBL, and KBL from 2023 & first half 2024

asker added:

Genre = mostly anything. But pls avoid homophobic trauma (like Jazz for Two).

Fair. Okay here we go!

2023 Recs!

I picked mostly 9s and 10s for you with a few 8s I felt specifically might suit your taste.

I Cannot Reach You AKA Kimi ni wa Todokanai

Japan Netflix

This classic friends-to-lovers BL is everything Japan does best. Angsty. Emo. Aching. Driven by real thirst. Yamato is deeply in love with his childhood bestie, Kakeru, and has been for ages, unable to hide his ungainly damaging high school need. He wants Kakeru in every way possible and it oozes off of the screen. Kakeru is silly and a little simple, but not frenetic or overly camp about it. He is earnest, and genuinely wants to keep Yamato in his life which means giving a romance (and gayness) a fair chance. We watch him realize his affection and what form it can take in a truly authentic way. This show was impossibly kind to both of its lead characters and I felt almost honored that I got to watch something so lovely and rare play out on my screen.

Our Dating Sim

Korea Viki

This is a perfect short form KBL, an office set reunion romance featuring geeks that really suits 8 eps with no fluff and no chaff. Just comforting and yummy. I adored every aspect from the casting to the pristinely simple premise to the quietly smooth execution. Sure it’s low stakes, but that makes it high domesticity and extremely warm and gentle. This is a fuzzy blanket of a story - a cozy BL. It lives in my rewatch pile and you know what’s best about it? Every single episode is in that pile. There’s no skipping with this one, it might be good natured and calmly sweet but it’s tight and the pacing is excellent.

I don't hand out 10/10 often (over 700 BLs watched, stil don't hvae 10 10/10s yet), these both got that from me in 2023. I consider both of them perfect BLs.

My Personal Weatherman AKA Taikan Yoho

Japan Gaga

This style of live action yaoi really only works from Japan. Basically: boys who fell in love in college end up living together but both are so repressed they actually don't realize they're in love. It's higher heat than we usually get from Japan's HEA stuff, and that part is also very well done, but it leaned into the "why don't they just talk for fuck's sake?" trope which is only exacerbated into undiluted frustration by the fact that they're already fucking. It's great, but watching requires more patience than usual, even for Japan.

Our Dining Table AKA Bokura no Shokutaku

Japan Gaga

A lonely salaryman (+ talented cook) gets accidentally adopted by a college kid and his little brother. I was always gonna love this show if they stuck to the original yaoi (which is very dear to my heart). And they did! Paralleling it almost exactly. It’s a quiet & cozy little parable of found family alleviating loneliness. Possibly too slow for some but definitely high up there for me as the best of what Japan can do with softness (like Restart After Come Back Home). It’s only flaw (if I dare say such a thing) is that it is not really “romantic.” Lovely & sweet but the romance beats are being used to build a family relationship, not just couple intimacy, but that's OK with me. This is a very safe show for anyone to watch.

Jun and Jun

Korea Viki

A delightful office romance about an ex-idol who joins cubical life only to find his new boss is his first love. Others boys are sniffing around too. Operative word being "sniffing" as much of this romance involves smell. With a snappy (sometimes even raunchy) script, enjoyable sides, a pretty as peaches cast, and descent chemistry this show made up for in style what it lacked in substance. I like fluff. I loved this. I smiled every moment I was watching. With tons of rewatch potential (especially the last few eps), my only caution is this is for fans of the BL genre only, I don’t think it’ll work for anyone else.

Love Tractor

Korea iQIYI

Most of this country-set BL had me feral for the beautiful broken city boy and his hot young farmer. Hyung romance, puppy/cat pairing, open frankness meets jaded reserve, language play, water hose frolicking, only one bed, just all my favorite tropes. This show was basically a light-weight Restart After Come Back Home and I’m not even slightly mad about that. But (and you knew there was a “but” comg) something about the cringe of the final 2 eps and the impermanence of the ending (both of which highlight the fact that ultimately these 2 are I’ll-suited: too different and too far apart) left me with the feeling that they probably won’t last as a couple. However, in this case, rare for me, I forgive it this finale for my love of the rest.

The New Employee

Korea Viki

So good, SO QUEER, so soft, a near pitch perfect office BL with conflict derived from that setting. Also found family and a lesbian bestie. Sweet & innocent (and out) Seung Hyun scores the office internship of his dreams. On his first day at work he gets into it with his cool reserved (and also v gay) boss. As you do. Frankly? This is what I wanted from this new crop of office set KBLs ALL ALONG. Rainbow rice cakes forever! Directed by queer activist Kim Jho Gwang Soo (Just Friends?) partly set in the same neighbourhood as the To My Star house. Gotta love WATCHA (Semantic Error, Light on Me).

Unintentional Love Story

Korea iQIYI

OMG the plot, forced into a totally understandable betrayal, falling in love despite himself, put into a corner he can't get out of, the AGONY, the eyes EMOTING at us in PAIN A boy who just lost his job due to faked corruption charges accidentally discovers his ex-boss's favorite artist, now a recluse. Evil manager offers him his job back if he can convince the artist to rejoin society. Instead, they fall in love. I found the artist a bit stiff and reserved but Gongchan (maknae of B1A4) is a fucking GIFT - he carried this show (which I do not expect from the idol element). He was lumous with extraordinarily expressive eyes, just drown in the emoting abyss. The external conflict, social tension and pressure is complex and beautifully executed, plus Korea gave us legit side dishes (NOT a love triangle, hally-fucking-luya). I’m not sure on rewatchability, and it didn’t whip me into a verbal frenzy the way some KBLs do, but it still gets a solid 9/10 for those damn eyes alone.

A Breeze of Love

Korea iQIYI

Tsundere insomniac grump reunited with his sunshine jock ex (human sleeping pill) who now hates him. Basketball is also involved. While the simplicity of a reunion plot makes this more cohesive than most KBLs, it is a tad stiff and slow, never managing to lift itself out of "pretty and pretty enjoyable" - I liked it but I don’t think I’m going to remember much about it. 

Bon Appetit

Korea iQIYI

Romance between an office worker the man from his past next door who cooks well. It was very sweet and cute tale of food as love in the All the Liquors family of KBL. I’m not wild about it, I did enjoy it, I was happy to have it show up on my dash, but ultimately it will simply become one of the KBL crowd.

Why R U?

(Korean adaptation of Thai original) iQIYI

Korea decided to remake, of all possible Thai BLs, Why RU? And that is exactly what we got: a short form, clean & pretty, slightly confusing, uneven chemistry, all the same tropes KBL that kind of cliff-noted the original but with none of the heat or complex relationship dynamics. I just … what world is this? Because it is BOTH bizarro land, and EXACTLY what I expected. How do I rate it? In the end I have to go back to simple questions: did I like it, would I rewatch it, and would I recommend it? Yes. Probably. And probably not. What the actual hell?

It did, however win my best kiss of 2023 which is why it's on this list.

Stay By My Side

Taiwan Viki

I wanted to pick SOMETHING from Taiwan but my other two options both had lots of trauma in them. So I'm going with this one.

This show was an interesting take on the "ghost boyfriend" trope. About a boy who is tormented by hearing the dead, except when he is around one other boy - desperation+proximity = love. Unfortunately, the story was erratic and waffled about. While the leads turned in solid performances and the sappy domesticity was off the charts, it never really had the strength of the narrative convictions such a strong concept should have supplied. Highly rewatchable and enjoyable for that sappy domesticity but not a whole lot more. Still I always give extra credit for the diabetes-inducing sugar content and rewatch capacity.

And some suggestions from 2024

I'm only suggesting stuff that has finished it's run and isn't currently airing.

Although I Love You and You AKA Sukiyanen Kedo Do Yaro ka

Japan Gaga

The promise of this show, younger cook courts older divorced office worker, should have been my catnip. I mean if someone pitched this to me in an elevator I would have downloaded it by the second storey. Unfortunately, it did not exactly fulfill that promise, not in the way I'd hoped. Did I still enjoy the ride, yes, but I feel just a little let down.

Living With Him AKA Kare no Iru Seikatsu

Japan Gaga

Kindly Ryota goes to uni and ends up rooming with his former childhood bestie, Kazuhito. Kazuhito doesn’t have a girlfriend for, as it turns out, cute roommate reasons. Same director as Old Fashion Cupcake, the framing is gorgeous and it is a stylish piece. As a friends to lovers cohabitation narrative this was a classic 2000s sweet yaoi. I enjoy that kind of tradition out of Japan even if it (and the characters) come off as a little slow as a result. Still, it's nice to get a traditional BL out of Japan that is satisfying, not slapstick, AND did not hurt us.

[ashc-from-ao3]

A dog with separation anxiety

Sirius black x reader

When you returned home to your tiny house that you shared with your boyfriend of four years, Sirius Black. You did not expect to find the place in ruin. Pillows were throw everywhere, stuffing leaking out of them. The couch had several deep gasses in it. The coffee table was broken and the kitchen was a mess, you carful,y ventured further into the house, weary of every sound. It was the height of the wizarding war and this damage could be caused by death eaters, and if they were still here they would no doubt Avada you. When you walked into the bedroom the mess was even worse. Blankets torn to scraps, the ensuit bathroom was slightly flooded from a burst pipe and a window was broken. You immediately noticed that Sirius, or his body, was not present. Panic filled your heart and you rushed around the house looking for any clues as to your boyfriend's state of health.

"Sirius? Sirius?! bloody hell Sirius where are you?" The house was a single floor place and there weren't too many places Sirius could he hiding. Your mind flickered to the worst, being captured by death eaters and tortured for information. With shaky steps you went to sit on the ruined couch, a sob escaped you as your mind ran over the possible scenarios. It took you another hour to calm down enough to think rationally, you had to go look in with the other Muraders, make sure Sirius wasn't with one of them. You apparated to Peter's first.

"Peter? Peter!" The small mousy man was cowering in the corner when you arrived, after noticing it was you the poor man relaxed and stuttered out.

"H-hello (Y/n)...wh-what do you want?"

"I'm looking for Sirius, when I got home the house was a mess and he was nowhere to be found...I need to know he's safe" Peter's eyes for wide and he started shaking.

"He-he's missing? Sirius is missing?" You sighs and went to console him, a though right now you really needed some consoling of your own.

"I haven't looks in with Remus or Lilly and James yet, he's probably with one of them. I'll let you know later okay?" After receiving a nod from the scared man you alerted to Remus' place. The sandy haired werewolf was curled up on his couch and shaking. The night before had been a full moon and he was always like this afterwards. You dropped to your knees beside him and he jumped.

"(Y/n)? What are you doing here? Did Sirius send you to check in in me again? I'm fine, just shaken"

"Actually no, Sirius did not send me, I'm looking for him. I got home and the house was wrecked and he was no where to be found. I asked leter if he had seen him but he hadn't, I just came by to see if you had. I guess not." Remus frowned and pulled you into a hug.

"Oh goodness, I'm sorry. Do you think it was....death Eaters?....." You tensed up a little and shook your head.

"I'm trying not to think of that, anyway how are you? How did last night go?" Most full moons the other three Muraders would leave their houses and go help Remus, this time all three had serious order business that they had to attend to.

"It was okay...managed to get everything secured before I changed. It was weird waking up and not being with the others though...I did it though." You smiled and ruffled his hair before standing.

"Good job Remmy, listen. I'm off to look I'm with Lily and James. I'll let you know what I find there" Remus nodded and with a crack you had vanished on,y to appear a split second later in the Potter's house. Little Harry who was approaching a year old looked up from his spot on the floor and giggled. Lily appeared around the corner and smiled brightly.

"(Y/n) it's good to see you, Sirius was just here. He apparated off to your house just seconds ago." A sigh of relief crossed your lips.

"Oh thank god, I got back to the house and it was a mess" Lily giggled.

"Yeah, he was telling James about that,he hoped he'd be able to fix it before you got home. No such luck it seems" you laughs along with the redhead and smiled and bid her farewell, you appeared kne more time, arriving back at your house. When you landed Sirius was there looking sheepish.

"Hey doll......so uh you had a business trip and I missed you so much that I kind of tore up the house in your absence like a dog with separation anxiety… sorry?" You tried to keep a straight face but you couldn't"

"Sirius Orion Black, did you change and wreck the house? Because that's funny enough you might not get in trouble for scaring me." Sirius mumbled something about how he had infact changed into Animagus form and wrecked havoc on the house. You laughed and after a hug and a kiss you quickly reached out to Remus and Peter letting them know Sirius was okay. The poor man looked extreamly guilty he had made so many people worry, you just sat him down on the now fixed couch and cuddled him. He was safe, a little air headed but safe. And that's all you needed

[shaanks]

listen what i'm saying is, I know the perv trope thing with Sanji is annoying and overplayed. i know it is. i know that some of it is Oda's humor and some of it is like. shit that anime always seems to find one character to shunt onto, and I don't like it and nobody likes it but like

pretending that's the only character trait that he has, or refusing to connect the dots through what appears to both be some vestige of the Vinsmoke programming (since ALL of his brothers have the exact same kind of nosebleed awooga behavior despite their lack of other meaningful human emotions), and a strict adherence to anything Zeff taught him (bc children do not process trauma and traumatic events the way adults do, and at that point Zeff was not only his first and ONLY example of paternal love, but the only hand capable of reaching in and stopping the knife he'd been twisting in his own guts), isn't just stupid, it's a deeply shallow and backwards take of an incredibly complex character.

yes, Sanji is flawed. they're all flawed. that's half the point of the story, that people are more than the sum of their parts, or the circumstances of their birth, or their pain.

Sanji's journey in this story so far is one of broken shackles, of healing, of finding comfort in himself and trust in his found family despite how deep the roots of self-loathing and fear run in him. in that way, of course he took Zeff's perspective to heart. Zeff who cut a piece of himself off and chose Sanji's life over his own well-being again and again, when Sanji's birth father abandoned him to torment and death. Zeff, who thought he was wonderful, and kind, and intelligent, and nurtured his potential, and taught him how to make sure nobody could ever hurt him again, when his birth father discarded him as damaged goods. Zeff, who is proud, in his own way, to know what his son is up to, and for people to know that's his boy, when his birth father's only direct words to him were to make sure to never bring him the shame of letting anyone know they were related.

(and that's the wild part, one of the things that really breaks me about Sanji sometimes, is that he kept that promise, too. If WCI hadn't happened he might never have told anyone at all.)

Zeff saved Sanji in every way a hurt little boy could possibly be saved, and so when he said "You never hit a woman, that's wisdom from when the dinosaurs walked the earth." and "Beat any man's ass you want, but if I ever catch you raising a hand to a woman I'll cut your dick off and then myself too for teaching you that." like???

He's not being a misogynist, he doesn't refuse to fight women because he thinks they're weak and frail and the fairer sex that needs to be protected at all costs by big strong men, he respects Nami and Robin and Vivi and refuses to give up on his friends and even forgives Viola despite her almost killing him and agrees to help her, like?? he internalized everything Zeff ever told him, not just how to make risotto really well or how to pair wine to cheeses and desserts.

does Oda sometimes play that up for laughs, or run it to extremes? yeah, absolutely. I actively like to pretend Fishman Island was 10 episodes of political backstory and Jinbei. But those moments of hyperbole aren't the fucking point of his character, or his development, and to pretend like they are removes Sanji--and an incredibly poignant story about abuse, recovery, self-love, and the acceptance and importance of found family--from the story.

[reddeaddamnation]

"Too far": A Sebastian Sallow one shot

Warning ⚠️: Dark! Sebastian, angst, breakup

He messed up. Even after so many times his tricks passed, he knew you were becoming fed up with him. He only wanted to keep you safe. Make you feel loved. And make sure you don't fall for someone else... You knew he only meant good, right? You saw everything he has been through and knew he never meant harm.

As Sebastian paced back and forth around the entrance of the Feldcroft crypt, he hoped you would drop everything you were doing and came to see him as soon as possible. Like you always did. In his letter, he had stated that he just wanted to talk and clear the misunderstandings between you. And hoped the crypt would bring back the sentiment in you with its significance to your love story. He wrote that he did not mean to cast Confringo at Leander, who Sebastian misheard and in a fit of rage, thought was flirting with you.

Oh, but he was flirting. You were kind, beautiful... special. Why wouldn't the other boys try to get with you and use you? Nobody else could treat you like Sebastian. Nobody else had what he had with you. Anger bubbled up within him as he thought of Leander's smug face as he talked to you. And his face when he saw Sebastian approaching and the explosion coming straight at his face. If he hadn't cast Protego it would have wiped the smugness for good. But the shield caused Confringo to ricochet towards one of the heavy statues, which crumbled and fell on Leander, who was immediately sent to the infirmary.

Both you and Sebastian received detention for unsupervised dueling in the hallway, damaging school property with an unauthorized spell and causing injury to a fellow student. Sebastian got the longer end of the punishment, while you got off easier for being at the wrong place at the wrong time. It took Ominis so much pleading the headmaster to not have Sebastian expelled in his last year and now he was not speaking to him, you were threatening leaving him and he had a severe detention... which he ran away from just to clear things up with you.

Sebastian was shaking, thousands of thoughts racing through his mind, hoping you will show up... And you did. As soon as you landed with your broom, you didn't even dismount yet when you slapped him across the cheek. "You reckless idiot!" You screamed. He did not speak. Only stared at the ground, seemingly in shame. "I told you I never want to see you again! If you can't behave like a human being, I don't have a place around you!" You ranted.

"I'm sorry..." he muttered. "Sorry won't be enough when we graduate and threatened by Azkaban, Sebastian!" You slapped him again. Suddenly, tears welled in his eyes. He fell to his knees, uncontrollable sobs preventing him from speaking as he gripped your robe. "I'm so sorry... You know I would never cause anyone harm intentionally. You know everything. I never wanted things to go this far. I love you so much, Y/N. I'll change, I swear it. I wasn't in the right head space."

He did the usual trick he would do whenever he messed up with you. Act endearing, sob, promise it won't happen again. He was your weak spot. Right? It always worked. You would stay silent for a few moments, let him say "I'm such a fool.", "I don't deserve you.", "I always fumble.", "I only want the best for you." and forgive him after his little repertoire.

But not this time. You were fed up from forgiving and nothing changing. You tugged your robe away from his grip. Panic settled in his heart and eyes. "No, Sebastian." You cut him off "Enough is enough. I'm leaving you." Sebastian started quaking even more. What does he do now? Either cause a scene how you probably WERE in love with Leander and that's why you throw him away without giving him another chance...or let you cool off and then try again...

No...

He knew what he had to do.

You turned your back on him and that was your biggest mistake. As you walked away, the last thing you heard from him was a fateful, unforgivable spell...

"Imperio!" Sebastian's voice echoed in your mind, his wand pointed at you. And then... nothing.

In a fit of craze, his hands shaking, his voice cracking, eyes wide in shock, as if a moment of realization came to him. "What have I done..." he whispered to himself, slowly stepping towards your still form and embracing you in a tight hug, close to his chest.

"I'll keep you safe, Y/N. This won't happen again. We will leave this place and go far away where I'll take care of you and nobody will come between us." He reassured, voice shaky, still in shock. Of course, this won't happen again. He won't have to start fights for you, if there's nobody to start fights with. You were his and he won't let you go. Ever.

[hell-drabbles]

...

Asexual!reader who doesn't enjoy indulging in any physical sexual activity, let alone with somebody.

Asexual!reader who's unfortunate enough to be the descendant of someone who's dearly close and hated by both side.

Asexual!reader who had a hell of a time in their life when they ought to break a contract that wasn't even theirs just because they're the descendant of a long-lost person.

Asexual!reader who's done playing nice when the creatures of light continue to get on their way back home, cursing them that they will get the revenge they rightfully deserved.

Asexual! reader whose hatred burns even more harsher when the devils start making advances towards them, in hope to feel the forgotten caress of Solomon.

Asexual!reader who keep everyone at arm length as much as possible, not even letting their guard down.

Asexual!reader who can feel something snap inside them when they received the news that creatures of the light, who torment, mess and almost destroy their life, finally caught.

Asexual!reader who didn't waste time going to the assigned place where to the creatures of the light was currently residing, every possible nerves of them moving like marathon.

Asexual!reader who's eyes filled nothing but a cold rage and emptiness as they draw closer towards their prey, not caring about the cheers coming from the crowd as they witness the descendant of Solomon, taking the lead.

Asexual!reader whose face remains motionless as they begin to have their way to the 'supposed' holy being.

Asexual!reader who continue to play with their 'toy(s)' while mocking the creatures of the light for bring pathetic enough to get caught by the hands of a small human.

Asexual!reader who disregard the plea for mercy from the creatures of the light even as his eyes started to flood in crystal tears, body going rigid for any bits of satisfaction.

Asexual!reader who continue their assault, makinang sure that everything they do will damage the creature of light in any possible way. breaking him slowly with humiliation.

Asexual!reader who's pride shows in their cold eye when the creature of light slowly stop resisting, his halo that usually shows off his grace and devotion towards god, has longed dusted into nothing but a bland decortication on it's head.

Asexual!reader whose, at last, finally let of him, watching how he slowly dissolves into a hollowed puppet, No more resistance nor complaints.

Asexual!reader who leave the place with a sadistic satisfaction, knowing that their once enemy, are now nothing, empty shell who's once thought was all about god, now owned by the reader.

Asexual!reader who often of hear a whine or whimper in the other room when they come back after their previous visit.

...Thinking about Asexual!reader in Christmas event...

🐶anon

(Oh the delicious sadism of it all! I enjoyed this very veeery much. I really love it when people send me their little writings. I'm sorry that I'm so slow to get to them but I promise you that I do read them again and again! Gives me so much joy.)

(Also, only wrote about Satan, Leviathan and Mammon because I know next to nothing about Beelzebub and the others.)

And before you know it, your visage is now associated with the angels that have been captured and broken by your hand. Rare is it to see you without at least one angel on a chain, as though they're nothing more than decorative dogs for you. You pull at them, forcing them to walk on all fours as you tote them around with minimal clothing, wrapped from head to toe in chains and piercings.

It left creatures such as Satan seething. Your anger was always delectable, delicious, and desirable. From the moment you were told of your duty, of the debt left behind by Solomon that you must fulfill because of the lives at stake, you were but a growing heated crater.

If you had just released that anger on him, if you just let yourself be free and let him close, then perhaps Satan wouldn't be watching you from a distance as you give the one thing he wanted above all else to the angels. Your anger, they don't deserve it, but Satan is a devil of his word and won't say a thing about who and who doesn't get to experience that rage of yours.

All he can do is grit his teeth as your anger gave way to sadistic joy at making these angels writhe in pain and pleasure. He wanted you to be his, and he yours, but you never let anyone in close. Truly, none of them ever understood humans.

Leviathan. Oh Leviathan, a being of pure and utter envy, convinced of his own perfection and beauty. Once you were such a hated thing, one that he couldn't stand that he held these once dormant desires towards you. He hated that you ignite these desires just by existing, by breathing, and he hated you even more when you ignore him at every turn no matter how much he demands of you.

He even made himself vulnerable for you to take advantage of, but none of it works.

And yet, somehow, those angels were the one that grasp all of your attention. Like they deserve it. Like Leviathan was worth less than the angels you were breaking.

Envious. He was well and truly envious of the angels, of you, of the devils that caught them.

No amount of wealth and riches can ever hope to bring you joy. Mammon spoils you every chance he could get, but there was nothing he could do to even pull your interest onto him. But this was fine. It was okay, because he willingly gave his being to you. And if he isn't obedient to your desires, then he truly never gave himself to you in the first place.

But, as with all things owned, they're bound to be discarded in one form or another. But, that implies that you even held them in the first place. If you want to throw something away, you'd have to hold them first.

Instead, you just left Mammon to gather dust. The first ones for you to lay your hands on was the angels, the very beings that Mammon could never own. What you wanted most was what Mammon could not give.

Was his existence really worth nothing? If that's your view, then as your discarded thing, you must be right.

[celinin-archive]

Celestino Vietti for Moto.it (08.02.2020)

translation under the cut

Celestino Vietti Ramus: “I’m the man of whys” 

M: Celestino Vietti Ramus, team VR- Sky VR 46 Sky- how the fuck is it? 

Cele: Sky VR46, it’s a bit long 

M: the important thing is that you don’t get it wrong when you go on track 

Cele: Exactly, exactly, otherwise they get angry with me 

M: Celestino, let’s start with the serious questions. This year, what is your goal? 

Cele: Well, this year is surely one where we have to try and be faster than last year, and use all the experience we got last year to try and always be in front to fight- not the podium but the first positions, it doesn’t always have to be the podium, you have to know how to settle for less. But I try to not give myself a too big of a goal, I want to try to start with my head free and then we will see where we are at the half season. 

A: You have shown to be super mature already. You are in the ideal context to learn- 

M: you are the most serious, out of everyone [of the academy] 

A: you are the most serious out of everyone, in between other things- 

M: no, maybe Luca beats you, Marini beats you 

Cele: Yeah Luca, he is the most- the most serious out of everyone 

A: but is he serious only outside or also inside? Because to me you’re serious, I mean, you’re a serious person 

M: I think he’s just talking without knowing 

Cele: well, yes- 

A: it’s empathy, I mean, I see him and that’s what I perceive 

Cele: let’s say that maybe I'm a bit more serious in the, let’s say, racing ambit in general, then outside I’m a bit... 

A: a moron 

Cele: I’m a bit of a moron outside, yes 

M: What is your nickname inside the team? 

Cele: Well, I was given “the man of whys” because I always make a thousand questions, I always bother everyone. But that’s fine by me 

A: Like, the last “why?” you asked... Vale? Do you remember it? 

Cele: Hell... no, right now I can’t remember it 

A: Why can you do this corner this way...? 

Cele: The problem is that... he explains it to me, but it’s not as easy as he says. And I try to do it, but I can’t do everything 

A: you just have to release the brakes, things like this? 

Cele: You just have to do it like this eh... I try it but it’s not that easy 

M: How old are you? 

Cele: Eighteen 

M: Do you drive on the road also? 

Cele: Eh, I’m getting my licence, I have the exam in a bit so I hope I will pass it 

A: Car or bike? 

Cele: Car, car 

M: No, I meant bike [this misunderstanding comes from the fact that in italian we use the same verb for driving the car and riding the bike] 

Cele: Ahhh, yes I ride the scooter 

M: And about cars, what’s the car [you’d want] 

A: Let’s put it like this, in ten years, when you’ve won one hundred world championships, you’re the king of motogp, you get here. What car do you get here with. 

Cele: Well, I’ve always liked the Lamborghini, maybe one day I’ll be able to buy it but right now it’s not even slightly in my thoughts because I can’t do it, really 

M: And in your private life, do you do damages there? 

Cele: Yes, yes, a little something yes, something yes. 

M: Like, do you have a girlfriend? 

Cele: ...yes, yes. 

A: Are you in negotiations? 

M: You’re saying it with a bit of difficulty 

A: Are we closing the deal? 

Cele: No, we are... maybe I am in a bit of a difficult period, but... 

M: But it’s possible that maybe... 

Cele: I don’t know 

M: Usually you say this to the other girls, I’m in a bit of a difficult period, you can say the truth to us 

Cele: ...no, I can’t, I’m in a difficult period, that’s all I will say 

M: It’s complicated 

Cele: Yes. 

M: Like, when is the last time you made love? 

Cele: Some time ago but also because she’s from Turin- 

M: Ah, ok 

Cele: From where I’m from, and I am here so... 

A: But here who do you live with? 

Cele: Alone 

M: With another girl 

Cele: No, no! 

M: We’re joking- what's her name? 

Cele: Lisa 

M: Lisa, we’re joking 

M: This wing of the VR46 from Turin, how do we see it? Because Pecco is also from Turin, you are from that area, 

Cele: Yes, I hope someday maybe to be able to, I don’t know, fight for a Championship in Motogp with Pecco, it would be amazing for our region... he’s done already a lot, I- 

A: I thought you wanted to open an Academy, like, in the Langhe or something like that 

Cele: Maybe in the future I might do it but it’s too much of a future thought, now I have to- in the end I haven’t done anything yet and I have to grow, I have to better myself so. We will se. Maybe someday 

A: What are they doing to these guys, the way he answers 

M: Since you are “the man of whys”, now we will ask you some whys. 

Cele: Go, go 

M: Why the number thirteen? 

Cele: Because I was born on October 13th 

A: This was was easy 

Cele: It was easy 

M: And why do you have the earring? 

Cele: I always liked it and... this is the one that my dad had, I put it on... I like it 

A: And why did you start riding? 

Cele: Because... I liked it, my dad has always been passionate about it, so I started, he put me on my first minibike and... It all started from there 

M: And why did you end up at the Academy? 

Cele: Pff, question... Because in 2015 I was in the RMU team that had made a collab with the Academy and luckily... well, a bit of ability and a bit of luck  

A: Exactly, your answer is wrong you should have told him, because I’m good 

Cele: Nah, nah come on, it’s not me who has to say it 

A: It’s us saying that you’re good 

Cele: then maybe it’s because I was good, I won the championship and... 

M: And now you’re here. Three things that Vale taught you, even without saying them to you 

Cele: I think, coldness and lucidity in the difficult moments, to always have the right move at the right time, and being “simple” in the everyday life 

M: Perfect, amazing things... I forgot the question I wanted to ask you. A serious one, truly serious, fundamental, but I forgot it. Maybe I’ll call you when I remember it 

Cele: okay, fine, fine 

M: Okay, Celestino Vietti, with Moto.it! Maybe the question will come to my mind. Bye! 

Cele: Bye, bye! 

Cele: Nice, nice, I liked it. 

M: Nice, eh? Yeah, yeah. Ah! I remembered the question! Why Celestino Vietti Ramus? 

Cele: because basically, where my grandpa lives, it’s a village called Vietti, and back in the days, I mean, the names were Giovanni, Giacomo, and they were all named Vietti, so to differentiate the families they used double surnames 

M: And the double surname, where did they get it from? 

Cele: I have no clue  

M: Randomly 

Cele: I think maybe it was a nickname they gave to the family or... these are all things from really long, long ago, I don’t even know them 

[short-yandere-stories]

hi!! im not sure if you still do matchups, if not that's okay! i'm interested in a male danganronpa v2 or v3 matchup! im a female, ENTP, i do art, and have a little side job doing manicures, i'm incredibly clumsy from what i've been told, i ramble about stuff/people i love, im kind of impulsive when it comes to decision making, i've been told that im a people pleaser and i have attachment issues, not sure if looks are important but i have long dark hair, 5'3, embarrassingly pale, thank you <3!

Matchups are a lot of fun so I try to do them when I have energy. I'll give you one from SDR2 and one from V3. Hopefully you'll enjoy them.

:✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧ ･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

:✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧ ･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

✧ Hajime Hinata has nothing but respect and admiration for all the talents that his classmates showcase, and you're no exception.

✧ He loves seeing what you create, and isn't shy on letting you use his nails for practice, praising them and showing them off to anyone interested.

✧ You're just such a nice person through and through that he can't help but get attached... quickly.

✧ And who are you to avoid him? That would make him sad, wouldn't it? We can't have that.

✧ Would you look at that? Suddenly the two of you are practically attached at the hip, Hajime taking up as much of his time as he possibly can, much like a dry sponge absorbing water.

✧ With how clumsy you can be, you need someone to look out for you, and isn't Hajime the best only option?

✧ He does everything with you after all, and lets you practice on and with him any time you want! So just keep doing what makes you happy and he'll be there to support you and keep you safe.

✧ Just... Don't think about replacing him with someone else, okay? If you'd start spending more time with someone else, he doesn't know what he will do.

✧ He just needs you by his side, always.

:✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧ ･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

:✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧ ･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

✧ Korekiyo Shinguji would find himself fascinated by you.

✧ Your hobbies would interest him, and he'd love to listen to you ramble on about your hobbies, returning the favor by rambling on about anthropology topics related to art and things you like.

✧ He'd be careful about letting you touch artifacts in his Ultimate Lab, though, seeing how clumsy you could be. Accidents do indeed happen, but he did not wish for either you or any artifacts to be damaged when it could be avoided without much issue.

✧ He doesn't expect to get as attached to you as he does, and especially not that quickly. He's an introverted person, unlike you, and doesn't grow close to people easily. He's used to others avoiding him and finding him strange, but somehow you stick around.

✧ Lots of late night conversations with his sister involves you, and her approval of you makes her egg Kiyo on, making him act on some of his... darker impulses.

✧ You've shown him kindness and you're similar to him, so now he's unhealthily attached to and possessive of you.

✧ It doesn't take long before you notice how the other Ultimates start to distance themselves from you, much like how they do with Korekiyo. A few even look... afraid.

✧ When you tell Kiyo about it, he comforts you, using it as leverage to shift you further in his direction. The other students didn't deserve you, he'd say, combing his bandaged fingers through your long hair as he held you.

✧ You'd grow accustomed to be around him and him only soon enough. And if any of the other ultimates were dumb enough to not listen to his warnings, he'd simply have take even more drastic measures to make sure that he was the only one you talked to.

:✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧ ･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

[luniidae]

~ As Red as Blood ~

Chapter IX

Note: Hi everyone! I hope you'll enjoy this new chapter ✨ I'm always "scared" of making mistakes since I used to write a lot, a long time, and late at night 😂

____________________________________

Luvia still couldn't get out of her room. Most of the time, she lay on her bed, staring blanky, her eyes redden by tears. A lot had happened in a very short time, starting with her physical transformation. She hadn't had time to get used to her new body when someone had already "appropriated" it, in the worst possible way, making her feel like it didn't really belong to her...

She had woken up in her bed, not remembering how she had gotten back to her room. On the other hand, she had certainly not forgotten what Haarlep had done to her the day before. Her body hurt, some places more than others... And there were so many things that she couldn't forget and that played over and over in her head. Like the way they stared at her the whole time, satisfied with the effect they had on her, or how their hands had touched her, scratched her, damaged her to make her feel like nothing more than an object. But what disturbed her even more was how she had felt. If Luvia felt some self-loathing, it was largely due to the fact that she knew nothing about the powers of an incubus. For her, everything she had felt was true, authentic, and the simple idea that she was able to appreciate every second spent in their clutches was enough to make her nauseous. Tears came to her eyes each time, ashamed of not having been able to resist them, betrayed by her own body.

Korilla visited her every day to check if she was alright, she even tried to talk to her, but the young woman did not respond. Luvia didn't want to hear her own voice which was now slightly different, it would have been like acknowledging that everything that had happened so far was real. And she couldn't bear that.

For his part, Raphael still couldn't bring himself to go talk to her. He felt he didn't "need" to do it, and what could he say to her anyway? That he regretted his action? He wasn't sure about this... And even if he did, it wouldn't erase anything that had been done and Luvia would still be hurt no matter what. However, an idea came to him, something that would allow him to establish contact with the young woman without her needing to respond: what about a dress ? The one the Dracanist wore before her transformation was now unwearable, and while it might seem trivial at first, he figured that sending her a new one would be a good way to let her know that he cared about her, in his own way. But this time, he would not use his powers as had been the case until now. No, this time he would call on some sort of “hellish tailors” to have the perfect dress made.

“As dark as the ocean, and as red as blood,” he told them. He also provided them with other details, particularly regarding the materials to be used. Velvet, taffeta, satin... Raphael was a very demanding kind of person and the infernal tailors had to try several times before giving him complete satisfaction.

The next morning, as Luvia gradually emerged from her torpor, she saw a box placed on her dresser. The young woman stood up with difficulty and walked forward slowly, intrigued by this new object. It was a rectangular box, quite flat, a deep red and decorated with a golden ribbon. She opened it, and first discovered a cherry scented card on which a few words were carefully written

"A gift for my little mouse"

Little mouse.... Luvia grimaced. This nickname had a bitter taste since Haarlep had used it too. She put the card down and carefully unwrapped the contents of the box, it was a dress. The fabric was soft and the various seams and embroideries gave a pleasant relief to the touch. She took the dress out of its box and held it in front of her as she looked in the mirror. She gently waved the petticoat to see it better, it was truly a beautiful piece of art. That said, she suddenly felt uncomfortable looking at her own reflection, so she decided to cover the mirror and put the dress back in its box. This strange and unpleasant feeling of not being right in this  body. And when it became too much to bear, Luvia sometimes ended up hurting herself. Her nails were short but sharp, like little claws, and it was not difficult for her to cut her own flesh. Faster, stronger, as if she was absolutely trying to get rid of this new envelope that had already been so bruised.

But as a Dracanist, her regenerative abilities (provided by her horns) made it impossible for her to actually harm herself. No matter how hard she tried, the wounds closed almost immediately. Furthermore, her blood was not flowing normally.

Indeed, the deepest wounds let out some sort of reddish gleams which rose around her before vanishing: blood magic. It was apparently a power unique to her species, but she only knew the theoretical part of it. She couldn't handle the view of her body... A body she considered soiled. No matter how many baths she could take, she still felt like Haarlep was upon her anytime.

It had been three days now since Raphael had sent the dress to Luvia, but the little mouse apparently still hadn't decided to point the tip of her snout. But according to Korilla, she had since started eating again, although it was in small quantities. However, the devil wanted to try a new approach, despite his patience slowly reaching its limits. He decided to have another present made for her, something more meaningful than a dress, more... Personal, and this time, he would bring it to her himself. It had taken a few days to complete, given the meticulous nature of the thing, but he was sure it would elicit a reaction. Raphael didn't imagine having to visit Luvia. The idea had been suggested to him by Korilla some time ago but he had rejected it outright, believing that he didn't have to take the first step and that, in any case, Luvia would eventually come back to him. But that's not what happened, and the cambion was starting to lose patience. This turnaround was only intended to push the young woman to trust him again, or at least that's what he liked to think. In fact, he missed her, in a way. It must be said that Luvia had almost always lived in the House of Hope, and that she and Raphael were used to seeing and interact with each other every day. Exceptionally, Raphael took his human form for this occasion. He remembered Haarlep's satisfied look when they reminded him that it was with his appearance they had tormented her, so he felt that his demonic form wouldn't make a good impression on the young woman.

One day, he came knocking on her door.

“I would have expected a better welcome,” he said calmly since he got no answer.

Suddenly, he heard quick footsteps coming and the door finally opened. Luvia was standing before him, she looked exhausted and emotionless, her red eyes locked on him.

"Greetings, little mouse"

The young woman sadly frowned, it seemed a bit painful to hear this.

"Greetings fa-", she grimaced, "..... Raphael...", she answered with a hint of hesitation, a sad but resigned look on her face.

"It's been a while since we last saw you, and I must admit that the atmosphere in my House of Hope has deteriorated significantly, especially since you decided to confine yourself to one and same room", he paused a few seconds,"So I brought a little something that could, let's say, "help" you in a way...." The cambion handed her a box. It wasn't as large as the dress's one, but it was finely decorated. She took it with slowly and opened it, wondering what it could be and how it could help her. Did he really think he could fix everything with - ... What was that ? There were two golden rings, but they were.... Opened ? And too big for a hand.

Luvia looked up Raphael, intrigued, raising an eyebrow. She didn't understand what she was seeing. The devil chuckled before her confusion.

"It is made of infernal iron, for the most part... Impregnate with a powerful regenerative and conservative magic. Very... Protective, I must say. I had them made especially for you. For your horns".

"I am not sure to understand", she admitted.

"As long as you'll be wearing them, it will help your horns to regrow and they will remain intact and strong. No one will ever be able to do any harm to them, not even me", he said, placing a hand on his chest. 

"So.... Does it mean.... ?", Luvia didn't dare to ask, scared to misunderstand.

"You horns are all yours, forever", he nodded.

If the young woman had expressed little emotion until now, her eyes widened in shock. What Luvia had endured so far was now behind her ? Really ? No one would have to mutilate her ever again ? As she gently closed the box so as not to drop its contents, and as she realized what it meant, her eyes filled with tears and she felt her hands and her legs trembling.

She couldn't speak, so without a word, she threw herself at Raphael, clinging tightly to him as if she feared he would disappear at any second. She burst into tears, releasing everything she had kept for herself for years, all the pain, all the times she would have wanted to be held by him to comfort her, to make her feel safe, loved, to show her she mattered... And all the times she felt so lonely. Her nails digged into his back, but the devil didn't mind. He didn't expect such an emotional reaction but, to be honest, he didn't really know what he was expecting anyway. It was strange to have her so close to him, he could feel her heart beating fast through her ribcage and she didn't seem in the mood to release her grip now. Raphael wasn't sure of what he should do next, but he kind of enjoyed their proximity. He eventually wrapped his arms around her, uncertain, holding her against him while she was still crying.

"I... I am sorry....", she managed to say between a few sobs.

The cambion raised an eyebrow "Sorry ? About what ?"

"I'm crying on your doublet", she answered.

Raphael giggled nervously, "Oh little Mouse...", he said, putting a hand behind her head to stroke her hair until she finally calmed herself down... "Would you join me later for the dinner ? You must be starving after all these days...", he proposed softly.

The young woman kept holding him tight and simply nodded against him. She looked like a woman but in the end, she was still a young girl, still craving for attention and love. She needed him, and no matter how much she had been hurt by his words, and by the fact he abandoned her in the Boudoir, she couldnt help herself but love him. She didn't know why but that was how she felt. Her grip softened and Raphael caught her shoulders to make her move back and look at her, swiping away a few tears of her cheeks.

"Oh look at you...", he cupped her face in his hands, "Don't waste this pretty face of yours with those tears, shall you ?"

She nodded shyly.

"Perfect, little Mouse"

"Can i ask you something?", she managed to say.

"Anything, my dear", he listened carefully.

"Could you.... Stop calling me this ? Please", she asked, avoiding his gaze.

He raised an eyebrow, intrigued by her demande but he accepted it.

"As you wish... Luvia", he paused for a few seconds before adding, "Would you like me to use another name, perhaps... ?"

"I don't know", she admitted, "It's just.... I don't want to be a mouse anymore..."

"Alright then"

His serious gaze softened, "Anyway, I'll be waiting for you to dinner later. I hope to see you there" He smiled at her but she couldn't know if he was sincere or not.

Once he was gone, she felt.... Empty. That was a very strange feeling. These few moments spent with him felt like a peaceful bubble in the spikes of her sorrow.

By the way, she examined the objects he gave to her earlier and took one of the rings out of its box. It was made of iron but it felt incredibly light, it has a golden color and was decorated by carved infernal winged creature, but among them, there was a smallest one... A little mouse.

Of course there was...

The view of this gave her a unpleasant sensation and a comforting feeling at the same time. She'll always be his little mouse.... But she decided to not pay attention to this detail. She placed herself in front of her mirror to uncovered it and took a deep breath seeing her own face. She brought an open ring to one of her horns, the longer one. Once the jewelry was close enough, it instinctively wrapped itself around it. It was strange to see a solid object moving with such flexibility, but the sensation was surprisingly agreeable.... It almost felt like a tender embrace, warm and comforting, it almost brought new tears to her already watery eyes. She found it hard to fully realize that her horns would never be mistreated again, and deep down she hoped that her whole being would never be again as well. She took a moment to admire herself once the two rings were on her head. 

Meanwhile, in the corridors, Raphael was walking confidently, satisfied of the effect his present had on Luvia. He was determined to have her back, since he needed her powers, but he was also feeling "relieved". He met Korilla.

She looked at him, knowing where he was coming from and noticing his smug look.

"Is everything fine, Master ?", she dared to ask.

"We will see her today", he answered as he kept walking.  

The dwarf couldn't help herself but slightly smiled, relieved but intrigued by her boss's methods. 

Later this day, at dinner time, the large table was full of various and appealing dishes, and the scent of this was positively divine. It would have been hard to resist such a feast...

As stealthy and silent as a shadow, Luvia appeared at the entrance of the room. Her lips were tinted of a dark cherry color, just as her eyes, her gaze accentuated by a black trait at the end of her eyes. She was wearing the golden rings around her horns and these looked far more healthy already. But she was also wearing her new dress.... As dark as the ocean and as red as blood.

Raphael, who was already here, tilted his head to observe her coming, an astonished look on his face.

"Who is this beautiful creature who honor us with her presence", he said warmly, "My dear, you look perfect. I always knew the velvet would suit you"

Luvia wasn't expecting such reaction. Actually, she couldn't understand being seen as "beautiful", or "perfect", or anything such. The pale skin of her face slightly pinked at this compliment, making the devil smirk. She finally took place at the table, at her usual place. She had spent so much time in her bedroom that this place looked almost unfamiliar to her now.  

"Enjoy, my sweet"

During dinner, the cambion couldn't help but scrutinize the young woman from time to time out of the corner of his eye. Although she was the same, he felt like there was another person in front of him, one who had nothing to do with the crying, miserable girl he had seen earlier in the day. Luvia had a confident, almost playful look, but a hint of sadness in her eyes betrayed her. Raphael was almost impressed by how easily she concealed her emotions.

However, a spark of determination suddenly crossed her eyes, and she began to stare at the devil. She seemed to have something to ask...

"Hm? Is something troubling you, my dear?", he raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

"It's about blood magic, I'd like to learn more about it, and I'm not talking about the theory", there was no hesitation in her voice, as if she expected no less from him that he accepts.

"Hm, that's a subject we weren't supposed to study this early....", he replied seriously, resting his chin on one of his hands.

"I thought we could speed things up, since I don't have to 'pretend' to be an adult anymore... As you said", she answered.

Raphael gave her a smile, he remembered these words well, "you won't have to pretend any longer", that's what he had told her before leaving her in the Boudoir.

"Very well, little one, if that's really what you want.... We'll start your practical training tomorrow then. But for now, let's just enjoy the evening, would you ?"

Luvia nodded and did her best to not let it show anything, but there was a glimmer of excitement in her eyes. She couldn't wait to show him she was more than just a little mouse..

To be continued...

Bonus: