#my eyes sting i’m crying but we stay silly :3

[strawberrynova]

mitski really does numbers on a bitch’s eyes istg

[kujousgf]

ACHILLES HEEL. mdni. 18+.

pairings: dark ! wanda maximoff x fem ! reader

synopsis: trying to get away from wanda wasn't the best idea you've ever had

content warnings: slapping, violence, blood, knives, mean wanda, degradation, injury, threats, allusion to petplay

wc: 2.4k

pt. 1 pt. 3

You're terrified. Wanda was already intimidating, but now she's towering over you with a knife in her hand and a look in her eyes that told you she wanted nothing more than to see you scream and cry. Maybe trying to escape was a bad idea and you should just accept your fate as Wanda's newest pet…

No, you didn't want that. You wanted to go home.

You don't even know how long you've been missing, you don't know how long you were out for, but it feels like weeks. Realistically, you knew it had only been about a day or two, it was dark out when you got home and found your parents and it was dark out just a few minutes ago when you were outside. Maybe if you had waited for the daytime you would've had a better chance at navigating the woods behind Wanda's house.

You're pulled back into reality when Wanda harshly tugs your hair back, forcing you to look up at her. “We really need to break this habit of yours. The ‘thinking so hard you space out’ habit because, well, to be honest you shouldn't even be thinking at all.” Wanda laughs, enjoying the whimper that escapes you when she tugs at your hair. Oh, and you look so pretty when you're scared, the fear in your eyes and the tears that threatened to fall made Wanda feel ecstatic. It also made her stomach turn in a way it hadn't in years, well, she'll push that feeling to the side and think more about that later. “You're clearly not smart enough to make your own decisions so I think you shouldn't even be thinking at all, really. It's not like pets have to think anyway.”

You hate the way Wanda laughs after speaking to you like that, after calling you dumb and making you feel like a child. You were a grown woman, you weren't a child. Wanda didn't look all that much older than you, in fact she looked around your same age, but the way she carried herself told you she was at least a couple of years older than you.

You feel a harsh sting on your cheek and suddenly it's burning like you'd been slapped. Oh. you had been. Wanda just hit you. “What did I just say to you? God it's really like there's nothing going on up here at all-” She taps the side of your head condescendingly, “Your head really is empty.”

You weren't dumb enough to try and hit Wanda back, but you also weren't smart enough to keep your mouth shut when you decide you've had enough of whatever game she was currently playing. “I’m not staying with you!” You don't know where that sudden burst of confidence came from, but it's gone as quickly as it came and you shrink back as Wanda cocks her head to the side, an almost smile tugging at her lips. “Oh? You're not? My apologies, silly me.” She steps to the side, gesturing for you to stand up and motions towards the basement door. “Well? If you're not staying you better go before I change my mind.”

You don't know if this is some sort of trick or another game, but you don't waste any time in starting to run up the stairs, wanting to get out of there as fast as possible. But oh, of course it was a trick because all of a sudden you're falling and you think you're in the most pain you've ever been in.

The scream you let out is music to Wanda's ears, she’d sliced your right achilles tendon on your way up the stairs. Not enough to impair you forever or enough so that you would have to get surgery, she wasn’t a doctor and you weren't going to see one any time soon, but enough that you wouldn't be able to walk very well on your own. You wouldn’t escape now, at least not until it’s healed.

You had collapsed on the stairs, not able to walk anymore due to the pain in your ankle. You cry as you look down to see the blood pouring from the wound. “Aw, baby, does it hurt?” Wanda asks, her voice sounding sincere, and she would almost call the way you sniffled and nodded cute if it didn’t ignite a much different feeling in her. “Maybe next time you’ll learn not to speak to me like that.” Her tone turns icy and she walks towards where you sit, or rather lay, on the stairs. She crouches down, you had only gotten as far as the second step, and reaches up to wipe your tears. “You’re lucky I didn’t do anything that bad, huh? Next time I’ll break your leg, so you better behave yourself.”

You couldn’t really focus on what Wanda was saying, only the red hot pain that was throbbing at your ankle. You registered the threat and nodded absentmindedly, you're not sure it would be worth trying to escape again any time soon, especially not if it causes you another injury. You didn’t know where you were at all, or the layout of the house. You'd have to wait until Wanda trusts you more and lets you outside.

Yes, that’s what you would do, you'd just have to get Wanda to trust you.

You hope it’s not as hard as it sounds and that Wanda isn’t as cold as she appears. You feel herself being lifted and you snap back into reality. “What are you doing?! I can walk on my own.” You panic, you don't know where Wanda will take you or what she'll do now that you're injured.

You couldn’t walk if you tried, but it was a nice attempt.

“Oh? Can you? I’ll just put you down then.” Wanda starts to put you down almost like she was teasing you, starting with the injured foot on the ground.

“W– Wait–! No, I can’t…”

Wanda laughs, knowing that already. This Wanda was a stark contrast to the Wanda who had sliced your achilles no more than five minutes ago. It was strange, you didn’t trust it.

It was a few hours later and Wanda was still being oddly nice to you, she had cleaned and patched up your ankle, let you shower and now you found yourself sitting in the room you woke up in earlier with your hands cuffed just above the bed frame. Wanda had told you she wouldn’t be taking any chances, and that she didn’t want to have to break your leg. At least you weren't in the basement.

And it wasn’t… the basement, that’s for sure, but it wasn’t very cozy either. Although, that could have been because the house had Wanda written all over it and Wanda herself was rather off putting. The walls were almost plain except for one rather large painting of a garden, you thought it was quite pretty, and the walls were a nice marshmallow color. The only pieces of furniture in the room were the bed you were sitting on, the desk in the corner of the room, its accompanying chair, and a set of little blue arm chairs. There was also a bay window with a window seat, it was a nice room overall, but there was one thing that struck you as odd, there was no clock anywhere, not even a digital alarm clock. You had no idea what time it was and those monitors on the desk still weren’t on. It was darker out now, though, so you can only assume it’s night time or at least later in the evening.

You're startled out of your own thoughts when the door opens and Wanda enters with a plate of food. “I hope you’re hungry. You should be, it’s been a while.” She walks over to the bed and sits down. You're reminded of the cuffs behind your back restraining your wrists when you're stopped from reaching towards the plate in Wanda's hand. You stiffen when you see her holding up the fork with a bite of whatever it is she’d brought with her, some sort of meat.

Wanda was going to feed you. Like a child. You hadn’t been spoonfed since you were a child and now Wanda seemed intent on not uncuffing you and letting you eat by yourself.

Wanda arches an eyebrow, “I’m not uncuffing you, so you might as well be compliant. Force feeding isn’t exactly something I’m into.” She sounded impatient, like something had happened since you saw her last and she was just waiting until she could leave you alone again. It was confusing, Wanda was confusing. Just a few hours ago she was yelling at you for trying to escape, and then she was treating you like you were friends, and now she seems to hate you again.

Rolling her eyes, Wanda sets the plate down on the bed and grabs your jaw. “I’m only going to say it once more, and then you’re not eating until tomorrow morning. Open your fucking mouth. Is there really nothing in that head of yours? You can’t even listen to a simple command?” Wanda's grip on your jaw was anything but soft, it almost forces your mouth open anyway.

Not that you had much dignity to lose, Wanda had carried you around the house earlier like you weren't capable of at least walking with support when she was in a good mood, but this seemed to you like the last piece of dignity you had was being stripped from you.

Reluctantly, you open your mouth and allow Wanda to feed you, you didn’t want to risk making her angrier than she already seemed to be. “Good girl, was that so hard?” It was mocking and this whole encounter brought you back to the harsh reality that Wanda wasn’t nice. That Wanda was a killer and that she killed your parents, quite ruthlessly in front of you.

It’s not that you had forgotten, you'd never forget that blood stained memory, you were just trying very hard to distract yourself from the fact that you had been kidnapped by the most ruthless criminal in all of Westview. This was not a nightmare and you couldn’t just wake up, you were being held captive in the Scarlet Witch's house and being fed by her and there was absolutely nothing you could do about it.

Wanda hadn’t stopped until you finished the whole plate and you thought she must’ve been lying when she said she wasn’t into force feeding. Wanda didn’t say anything as she stood up, fixing her pants before starting to walk towards the door with the now empty plate in hand. She stops when she gets to the doorway and turns her head to look at you, “There’s water on the bedside table, you should drink it and get some sleep.” And with that she was gone.

You turned your head, eyebrows furrowed, how did Wanda think you were going to be able to pick up a glass of water to drink if your hands were cuffed above your head. Oh, there was a straw. Wanda was mean, but not cruel… Well, she was a little cruel but she did care about your health. Apparently. It would be wrong of her to leave you a glass of water you couldn’t drink.

You didn’t realize how thirsty you actually are until you see the water, and you maneuver over to the edge of the bed. There wasn’t anyone in the room with you, Wanda had left, so why did it feel so humiliating to have to lean down like this to drink water. You also hadn’t realized how tired you are, or at least you think you were this tired before, it would make sense considering how long you think it's been since you last got to sleep. Or was it something in the water..? You don't even get to finish the thought before you find yourself fast asleep.

Now, realistically Wanda knows she’s worried about nothing. It’s been years and there’s been nothing that could possibly tie her to any of the crimes she’s committed, but what if this one was different? What if she had been sloppy because of your unexpected appearance? No, she’d done most of the work before you came home and she was sure she hadn’t left any traces of herself in that house.

She’d turned your cell phone on airplane mode before she left your parent's property and then smashed it in the parking lot of some dingy highway gas station so that it wouldn’t be tracked. And for extra measure she put it in a bowl of water when she got home. So why does she feel like something’s going to go wrong?

It wouldn’t, it couldn’t.

She’s really starting to regret not having just killed you. You were causing her more stress than she needed and she couldn't afford to slip up after all these years just because a pretty girl caught her eye.

She groans, “Really, Wanda? You risk everything because you don't want to kill some girl? You don't even know her. And now you're talking to yourself in the bathroom. Good. Great.”

Wanda looks at herself in the mirror, God, she really needs to shower. She usually always did, but she’s been so distracted with you and your attempted escape that she’d only had time to change her clothes. Maybe after a nice, warm shower she’d feel more like herself. She looked down at the time on her phone, god, it was almost midnight, she should really get to sleep… Ah, whatever, if the shower wakes her up she’ll just take one of the pills she’d slipped into your water, that would definitely knock her out.

The shower didn't help at all.

In fact it made things impossibly worse. All it did was give her more time to think and now she's stalking your stupid, albeit pretty, friend Kate's instagram account. For someone whose mother owns a security company, Kate sure was terrible for having a lot of her private life public. You were in a handful of pictures with just Kate, and even more with some other blonde girl.

Wanda hates how her chest tightens seeing how brightly you're smiling with Kate's arm around you and Kate's dog, Lucky, she had learned through a caption on a different post, sitting in your lap.

She might have to kill you just to get you off her mind.

[yourlocalmaraudersbabe]

Helloooo! How are you? I really like your fics! <3 Can i request some headcanons for young!Sirius? Or maybe kid!Sirius? How do you think he was like? What if he and Y/n were best friends? Would he go to her for comfort when his parents are nasty with him? Sorry for my horrible English🤡 still struggling with it.. (maybe that's why i read so many fics😂) Best wishes!

“I'm starting to think that we deserve each other”

Summary: Headcanons of Sirius and eventually confessing feelings

Pairing: Sirius x Muggleborn!reader (it’s literally mentioned like one time)

Warnings: swearing, angst, parent/family issues (?)

A/N: Ahh hi anon! Thanks so much for sending this in, I really enjoyed writing this and I hope you enjoy reading it :)))) Ahhh but this was also a little different style of writing than I usually do so let me know how you guys feel about it! I’m also just like, obviously in love with Sirius Black so um, they get into a little bit at the end and confess some things :=) Ooo, as always, send me an ask if you’d like to be added to my taglist! I also should let you know that I wrote this very late at night so the logistics and grammar might be shit

Word Count: 2054

Masterlist + Characters and ships I write for

Requests are always open <3

I have more time since it’s now summer so please send them in!! :)

Reminder that I do not support jkr. Do not interact if you do.

It was well known throughout your first years at Hogwarts that you and Sirius did not get along. He honestly annoyed the shit out of you everyday. He came from a rich pureblood family and you were a muggleborn, so anyone could see how the two of you clashed there.

All of the professors were completely done with you and Sirius’s antics. It started off with Sirius somehow managing to turn your hair green during the first flying lesson that the Gryffindors had. “Hey y/n, your hair is amazing! Didn’t think you could pull off the green!” a peer had spoken to you just before mounting your broom.

Sirius broke out into a nearly uncontrollable laughter and got a detention for it. But of course, none of that stopped you from getting back at him. Even just the simplest of pranks had gotten the job done.

There was one prank at the start of second year that earned you and Sirius a month’s worth of detention with Slughorn. He basically had the two of you as his personal assistants. It was honestly torture. But there were moments when he would step away from his classroom to talk to another professor, or slip away into his office to plan the next day’s lesson, and it would leave you and Sirius alone.

The two of you gave in and finally had a conversation with each other. It wasn’t much and it was very awkward, but seeing as this was your first day out of a month’s long sentence of detention, someone to talk with didn’t sound too bad.

And that was what blossomed a very chaotic friendship between the two of you. Having to suffer together was what drew the connection. You two eventually planned your own little pranks against other people.

Despite everything in your younger years of being at Hogwarts, Sirius was your closest friend. You could maybe go as far as to call him your best friend, but you’d never say that to his face, it’d add to his already huge ego.

You ate nearly every meal with him. You’d practically drag him into the library to study. He mentioned something about doing well in school for his parents, so that’s what you’d help him with.

Though the two of you quickly learned that it’s very hard to focus in each other’s presence.

You taught him how to braid hair. He practiced using yours. “Would you stay still, y/n?”

“I’m trying! You’re the one yanking me back and forth, Sirius.”

From that point after, you’d sit in between his legs on the floor as he sat on the couch.

He got you sucked into quidditch and nearly got you to try out for the team. “I think it’d be fun having you on the team!”

“I think that’s your way of saying you want to spend more time with me.”

“Of course,” SIrius shook his head no.

One day he saw someone in the hall walk by with eyeliner and he demanded that the two of you try putting it on yourselves.

This ultimately got you in trouble for staying up way too late, laughing at how silly you both looked in the prefect bathrooms. Lily would allow you in saying “This is going to get my badge taken from me, I swear.”

You two eventually got back to studying after Sirius received some notes from his parents.

You caught on quickly that he didn’t have the best relationship regarding his family.

It was actually a little difficult being friends with Sirius at first. It was very hard for him to just be vulnerable and talk, but by fourth year, you understood where he came from and didn’t push for anything. You listened to him the very few times when he would make small little notes of his family, or talked about his brother while passing him in the hall.

Your conversations were more so filled with random things that only really made sense to the two of you. Any outsider would’ve thought you two were completely crazy.

By fifth year, you were looking at Sirius in a whole different light and you hated it. You wanted to be way more than friends and didn’t know what to do with yourself. You started to avoid him. This was the worst and best decision ever. It’s still debatable.

While the rest of your friends were taking a little day to Hogsmeade, and while you were still on a streak of pretty much avoiding Sirius, you slipped off from the courtyard, taking a less used corridor towards the library.

Here, you found Sirius with his shoulders shaking, head in his hands, and your heart shattered. If you were feeling this, you couldn’t even begin to imagine what he must feel like. He didn’t pay any mind to his surroundings until you slid down the wall next to him, placing your hand on his shoulder.

He didn’t even have to look to know that it was you. He leaned into your shoulder while you brought your arm around him, quiet sobs escaping from his body.

He always kept parts of him, especially these emotions so closed off, that it honestly was a little surprising to see him like this. “Sere, tell me what’s wrong,” you whispered.

“I- um, it’s nothing. I just got a letter from home and it’s-” he broke down again.

At this point you let your legs stretch in front of you. He was still under your arms until he just let himself go. He let himself feel. And relax. And he understood that it’s okay to cry. And be vulnerable. And that you were safe to talk to about anything. He hugged you full on. He clung on tight as he cried. And man, you were fucked. This wasn’t helping any sort of feelings you were trying to suppress by being here in his presence. It honestly nearly broke you. You wanted to cry for him. Scream for him. Go off on his parents for him. You wanted to protect him from all that could ever hurt him this way.

He talked about everything that has happened up until the letter and stammered off his explanation with one final point. “A-and I’ve missed spending time with you. It’s like you’ve been avoiding me,” he mumbled into the thick air. He was laying down against you with your fingers in his hair. “It’s like I- I’m missing a part of me. Like we’re so close I couldn’t possibly imagine my life without you.”

You stumbled over your words, trying to find out what to say. ‘If only he knew’ you wanted to groan out into the air. “I’m sorry,” was all you could say, tears stinging your eyes while you blinked them back, hugging him tightly.

From that moment, the two of you had bought bracelets at Hogsmeade and spelled them to change a certain color for when the other wanted to talk, or simply just needed to be with the other. They were simple fabric ones, something you both liked and wore everyday.

Most of the time Sirius came to talk to you about his parents. Which was new considering he was a little closed off before.

You were there if he needed to cry. You would hold him if he needed a hug. You would laugh with him when he didn’t want to be the only one. You were there for him for everything.

There was one night that was really bad. His parents basically sent a letter saying not to come home in the future. You were supposed to meet him in the library yet he wasn’t there.

After asking around, you found him in the Gryffindor common room when it was far too late for you to even be out. His face was tear stained and his eyes were an irritated pink. Though he didn’t seek you in the first place, he didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around you, burying himself in your comfort.

By sixth year it was supposedly “Painfully obvious you two were basically in love with each other” Remus would say every time you gave up a library visit to be with Sirius. Or James would very blatantly leave you both to carry out specific parts of a prank together. Lily would just leave you and Sirius alone together whenever she got the chance, really.

One particular Gryffindor win for Sirius was crashed by some Slytherins who came without any good intentions. It was soon discovered that there was veritaserum in the drinks that, of course, you and your friends had already enjoyed.

All of this prompted you to leave the party. You left with a big group of people, Remus, James, Peter, Lily, Mary, Marlene, all off to the grounds, trying to avoid any trouble. You stayed back with Remus and Sirius while the rest walked ahead, talking about the most random of things, like how Remus wants to ride a unicorn. He eventually sped up with the rest of the group, claiming he was going to ride a unicorn, properly drunk. “Mhm, yeah. You go have fun with that Remus,” Sirius called to him as he stumbled ahead.

You and Sirius couldn’t go as far as to say you were drunk, but definitely tispy. You walked over to a small tree and sat yourself under it, laying back against it. Sirius did the same thing except he leaned his head on your shoulder and you leaned yours on top of his. It was a sweet moment as he mindlessly played with a thread hanging from your robes.

The veritaserum didn’t bother the two of you much, you were honest with each other most of the time anyways. Well, it didn’t bother you much until Regulus and a few of his friends stood over you, making fun of how close you and Sirius were. You kept your mouths shut for as long as you could. “What it’s not like you like each other. Do you, Sirius?” Regulus pushed.

“I actually like y/n a lot. She’s always there for me and—” Sirius slapped his hand over his mouth, eyes wide.

“Hmm, and I don't suppose you feel the same way, y/n?”“

“I have feelings for Sirius,” you blurted out right as Regulus and his friends walked away.

Sirius looked over to you, smiling like an idiot. You leaned your head back against the tree, covering your face with your hands just before he pulled them away. He squeezed them in a comforting manner and asked why you hadn’t said anything before. “Because you’re such a great person, like you deserve the world and I don’t think I’d be enough a-and I hate that people keep asking questions because I’m on this stupid veritaserum that’s making me look like an idiot

He cut you off with a kiss, effectively shutting you up. The kiss was rushed at first before turning into something exploding with passion that you didn’t even know you needed until now.

“Well, you’re a beautiful idiot. Because, as said before,” he mumbled the last part, returning to his normal tone of voice. “I like you too. A-and I guess that you could tell me that I’m an idiot because—”

“Why didn’t you tell me you liked me, Sirius?”

“My entire life is a mess and I have too many problems and you’re always there for me to begin with, I’d take up too much of your time if we actually ended up dating. And you’re perfect and I look like absolute shit all the time. Just as you said you deserve the world but as I’m saying all this, I’m starting to think,” he trailed off searching your eyes for words. “I'm starting to think that we deserve each other,” he finished in a soft voice.

“I think we deserve each other too,” you grabbed his face gently, kissing him.

That night is now the day you and Sirius started dating, one of the most memorable days of your lives.

You never left breakfast in the Great Hall without stealing a kiss.

Or a piece of bacon from his plate.

There’d be some nights where you could sneak away and fall asleep with him peacefully and everything seemed alright.

[lloydskywalkers]

chrysanthemum

1/2 of the fics i wrote for the 10th anniversary zine!! if you haven’t checked it out yet please do @ninjaneverquit-zine , everyone worked so hard and did such a wonderful job, i’m beyond honored to have been included <3

I may not have been in the fandom since the start, but ninjago means the world to me - it’s gotten me through some of the worst times and pushed further in writing than i thought i’d go, and the fandom’s been a particularly bright light in my life since i’ve joined 💕and of course i can’t not celebrate that by writing for the light of my life lloyd garmadon, so here’s me crying over the garmadons anniversary-style :’D

Garmadon’s son has only been on the earth for twenty-four hours, and he’s only been Lloyd for nineteen, but he already finds himself terrified of the tiny, living thing he cradles in his arms.

“He’s so small,” he tells Misako, eyebrows furrowed in concern. “Is he supposed to be this small?”

Misako, who’s been answering questions similar to this for the better part of the morning, rolls her eyes. “He’s fine, Garmadon. He was born a little early, that’s all.”

Not as reassured as he should be, Garmadon returns his gaze to his son. He’s sleeping now, deathly still in his arms, and he resists the urge to wave a hand over his tiny face, if only to feel the small puffs of breath he knows must be there. He brushes a wisp of hair from his head instead, marveling at how pale it is.

“He’s got my father’s hair,” he murmurs.

“I don’t care, Garmadon, we’re still not naming him after the man.”

It’s Garmadon’s turn to roll his eyes. “I never said that. I said Montgomery was an unacceptable name to burden my son with.”

“Oh, your son.”

He misses the rest of her retort as Lloyd fidgets briefly, tiny features screwing up as he shifts. A flash of lightning from outside brightens the room, and Garmadon pulls Lloyd closer reflexively. The thunder crack follows soon after, and Garmadon flinches, the thick smell of rain filtering through the open windows. He can already see thick droplets sliding down the hydrangeas Misako’s growing in the windowsill, drowning the pale flowers. It’s been pouring all week, typhoons hitting the coast with gusto as they always do this time of year. Garmadon doesn’t like it — his son is much more suited for the sun and all its brightness, not the grey-skied downpour of thunderclouds.

Lloyd hardly reacts to the downpour, having gone still and silent in his arms once again. Garmadon’s heartbeat quickens. He shouldn’t sleep this much, should he? He doesn’t remember Wu being like that, but he was so young when Wu was born, and it was so long ago, and he can’t feel for Lloyd’s breathing now because the breeze pouring through the window’s too strong, and—

A soft hand sets on his shoulder. “Here,” Misako sighs, guiding Garmadon’s hand to rest gently over Lloyd’s chest. “Feel. That’s a heart, going strong.”

Despite his hesitance, a deep-rooted part of him still desperately afraid his touch might hurt something so small, Garmadon does so. Lloyd’s heartbeat is rapid and as fragile as a bird’s wing, but undeniably there. A small, living thing.

Something warm curls in his chest, and Garmadon thinks he might understand his father’s delight in creation — in things that live.

Not, of course, that his father has ever created anything so perfect as Lloyd, but Garmadon can credit him for having tried.

* * *

It’s weird, having a dad.

Not the concept of having a dad — Lloyd’s bragged enough about being the son of Lord Garmadon to at least get that part. But actually having him here, a living, breathing person who looks at Lloyd and cares—

It’s weird, that’s all. Not that it’s a bad weird.

“You need to wrap your hands, before you go hitting things like that,” Garmadon scolds gently, twisting gauze around Lloyd’s bruised, swollen fingers. “The others can show you how, for training. They should have shown you earlier.”

Lloyd bites his lip. He doesn’t tell his dad that the bruises are less from training, and more from pointlessly banging on bars in an attempt to get on Pythor’s nerves. It sounds silly, compared to the way his dad swept in like a big hero and took out all the snakes in single swipes.

A big hero. Lloyd wonders if the others will ever see him that way, too.

His hand twinges as the gauze pulls tight, and Lloyd sucks in a sharp breath. Garmadon flinches, drawing his hands back.

“I’m sorry,” he says, quickly. “I keep forgetting — you’re so small.”

Lloyd makes a face at that. Small? “I’m not that short,” he grumbles. “I’ve grown lots.”

“Of course you have,” Garmadon amends. “I only—”

His expression twists, and Lloyd’s stomach drops. There’s that look again.

“I’m sorry,” Garmadon repeats, sounding downtrodden.

Lloyd purses his lips. For all his bragging, he’s never really thought much about whether he likes his family or not. It’s hard, when you don’t have one around to like. Watching the way his dad worries and his uncle walks around all stone-faced now, Lloyd’s not sure he should like it. He likes Uncle Wu, of course, and he loves his dad, but—

He hates the way they all walk around like they’re preparing for a funeral. His dad’s funeral, his funeral, whichever it ends up being. It’s stupid. Lloyd’s lived on the streets for months, and in Darkley’s even longer. He wouldn’t have minded walking around like he’s doomed for misery then.

But now? When he’s got people who care, and a family?

Lloyd sets his mouth stubbornly. He doesn’t know much about destiny, or the prophecy, but he knows he’s not about to lose this. Not when he’s come so far, when he’s so close to having — to being someone worth having around.

No funerals, Lloyd promises himself. He can see this prophecy through — they both can, the two of them. You have to be alive to be a family, right?

“It’s okay,” he finally replies. “I’m alright, dad.”

And he’s gonna stay that way.

* * *

When Garmadon had thought about the final battle in the past, he’d expected the darkness. The destruction, the pain.

He hadn’t expected to survive.

“So you’re really giving up fighting, then?”

Glancing up at Lloyd, taller now yet still small enough to not quite fit his bright golden gi, Garmadon finds survival a very welcome surprise.

“Yes,” he says, returning his gaze to the flowerbeds Misako’s helped him put in the monastery garden. They’re coming along well, despite the recent fits of bad weather, and they do a fine job of making the monastery look homey. Unthreatening.

He hopes, at least.

“I think I’ve done enough fighting, for my part,” he continues. He gives Lloyd a wry look. “I’m not sure Ninjago could take much more of it from me, anyways.”

“I dunno,” Lloyd says. “It’s been getting pretty boring.”

Garmadon snorts. “Boring is something you should appreciate, son. Excitement isn’t always good.”

“No, but it isn’t bor—dull,” Lloyd mutters, crouching down to study the flowerbeds. Garmadon shakes his head in reply, sighing. He remembers being his son’s age once, yearning for the next thrill, even if it feels ages away now.

He’s got a whole lecture on appreciating the quiet moments on the tip of his tongue, too, when Lloyd speaks up again.

“We used to have these flowers at Darkley’s,” he says, tilting his head as he studies them. “Some of the boys tore them all up and threw ‘em at the window, but they were pretty before that."

Garmadon bites the inside of his cheek, his eyebrows furrowing. His expression softens as he spots the gentle way Lloyd handles the flower, carefully pushing it back to place. It never fails to baffle him how someone as gentle as Lloyd could’ve come from his beginnings, much less from Garmadon, but he treasures it.

“Snapdragons,” Garmadon says, instead. “Fitting flowers, for our family.”

Lloyd looks at him curiously, eyes bright with the light of suspicion, and Garmadon is tempted to tell him the full truth, then and there. But Lloyd is still so young, innocent and naive and barely come to terms with his place as the Green Ninja. The truth of their blood is a heavy one, and Garmadon can’t find it in himself to lay it on Lloyd’s shoulders today. No, his son is happy among humans, so a human he’ll let him be. Someday he’ll know he’s more, closer to the dragons he admires than he realizes, but not quite yet.

Miraculously, Garmadon has the time, now.

“If you stay after dinner, I can show you how they’re planted,” he offers. Lloyd nods, and Garmadon’s smile widens.

Destruction is in his blood, and he’d be blind to say it isn’t in Lloyd’s as well. Power is power, whether it’s bright and beautiful or stained in darkness, and Lloyd could shatter mountains as well as move them, if he wanted.

But Lloyd never moves to pull the flowers up, only watches them rustle slightly in the breeze, leaving them to grow a little bigger, a little brighter. Garmadon, for his part, watches his son, all bright eyes and the burnished gold hair of his grandfather, and reminds himself that one needs not be a master of creation to appreciate life.

* * *

Lloyd likes to think of himself as an optimist, for the most part. He’s at least good at pretending that he is one, with how many times he’s had to convince himself it’s worth it to get back up.

Right now, he’s trying to remember how he’s ever managed to convince himself, because this time, getting back up seems impossible.

Lloyd used to wonder, back during Morro, how far you had to push yourself to break like that. How far someone had to push you, to truly splinter. He thinks he might have found his answer, though his is less of a bitter hatred and more of an empty abyss of hurt.

It hurts to breathe. That would be a sign that something’s wrong, if Lloyd didn’t already have about sixty other signs that he’s in trouble. But the breathing thing is sticking out to him especially, right now. His lungs feel like they’re scraping against his ribs every time he tries to draw breath, bruised and stinging, and there’s a deep ache in his chest that grows worse by the minute.

He tries swallowing again, sand scraping down his throat as he does. He hisses out a breath instead of coughing, almost frightened that his lungs will give out completely if he does.

He says almost, because Lloyd isn’t sure what emotions he’s got left to feel anymore.

A lie. Pain starts numb, sometimes.

Lloyd’s chest spasms as he sucks in another breath, and he wishes the desert would swallow him whole. His father — his real father, who pushed him from the Cursed Realm and told him to return to light and living — would want him to stand back up. He’d beg him to, stress the importance of continuing on, of persevering. Stuff like that.

But if it wasn’t for his father, Lloyd wouldn’t have to get back up in the first place. If it wasn’t for his father, Lloyd wouldn’t be—

His eyes burn, stinging as he squeezes them tightly shut, and he tells himself it’s the sand.

Instead, he focuses on the ragged beat of his heart. He only knows it’s there because his chest throbs in pain with every pulse, but he latches onto the feeling and holds tight.

Still alive, he tells himself, even as every bit of him sings in agony and his lungs scream at him to stop. He’s still alive. His powers aren’t answering him but they will, he knows they will, he can’t disappear like he did with Morro. He can’t — he can’t leave it, not like this, not with his father — not like this. If he can’t stop Harumi, if he can’t save his father, if he can’t do anything else at all, he can at least do this.

Stay alive. Stay alive. Stay alive.

He’s never realized how long the nights out here are, before.

* * *

After everything, the light dies down and the Oni vanish, and Lloyd’s heart stops.

It shouldn’t be a surprise to Garmadon, who isn’t even sure his own heart beats now, but it is.

It’s not supposed to stop. There was a promise made, somewhere, to keep it beating.

It restarts before he has the chance to process what that even means, and the swell of relief is so foreign, Garmadon leaves before he even has the chance to ask Lloyd what he’d seen. He thinks to himself, that will be the end of it. The end of whatever tentative connection he has with the boy, whatever frayed and tattered threads of something they once had. Better to cut them away for good.

Lloyd’s not one to let things die, though. Garmadon should know that at least, the boy tells him.

“I know you like repeating yourself,” he mutters. “Letting go is different.”

“That’s not what this is,” Lloyd huffs back.

Garmadon rolls his eyes, the two of them drifting aimlessly down the Ninjago City garden paths. It’s secluded, the rest of the city still recovering, and Garmadon’s grateful for the quiet, even if it is awkward. Building any kind of bridge with the boy is difficult, if only because Lloyd stresses that they’re rebuilding a bridge, and Garmadon has no memory of any bridge to begin with.

He’s still sifting through jumbled emotions, sorting out what his place in this world was and is supposed to be, but he knows that the word son slips easier from his mouth than daughter ever did, so he figures he’s on the right path, at least.

“It’s about—” Lloyd pauses, his expression contorting. “It’s about surviving, I guess,” he grinds out.

Garmadon’s mouth curls into a grin. “Really. You were quite…vocal, that it was about more than that.”

“It is, it’s just—” Lloyd cuts off again, stopping them in a half-ruined section of garden still littered with remnants of concrete. “It’s the payoff, you know? Here.”

He bends down, brushing dust from a surviving scattering of flowers. He gently touches the edge of a petal, pushing the flower head toward the sun. “See?” he says. “After all that, it’s still alive.”

Garmadon stares at the delicate edges of the petal, smaller and more fragile than any of the buildings that crumbled beneath his rule. At Lloyd’s nod, he stretches his own fingers out toward it, his hand impossibly dark and calloused next to his son’s own small one. But he brushes his fingers over the petal edge nonetheless, almost surprised that it doesn’t decay beneath his touch. It’s soft, he notes, like the fragile skin of a newborn. Odd that it should’ve survived, out of everything else that perished.

“So it is,” he says, carefully. Lloyd says nothing, but there’s a ghost of a smile around his lips. They must make an odd sight, the pair of them crouched in the dirt in the recovering garden. There’s no use in sitting here and looking at the flower, no explanation Garmadon can offer himself, but he doesn’t leave. He can take the moment, he decides, to appreciate what Lloyd is trying to show him.

They too, after all, are still alive.

[concernedbrownbread]

Come Home With Me

For @adrienaugust Day 3: Umbrella

Summary:

“Adrien,” Plagg said softly, “It’ll rain soon.”

“Let it.”

His voice was vicious. Desperate.

He wanted to go home. But he really, really didn’t want to go back.

The rain started hitting his face harshly, punishment for his indecision. Adrien wanted to curl up in his bed and cry, but he didn’t want to ever see his too-white, too-big room again.

“Adrien?”

His eyes snapped open, focusing past the blur of water to the person who had spoken.

“Marinette?”

Or, Adrien finds himself alone in the rain, trying to find home, and Marinette lends him her umbrella.

Word Count: 1397

Relationship: Adrien & Marinette (Platonic, but can be interpreted differently), Adrien & Plagg

Warnings: Implied/Refrenced Emotional Abuse

Read here or under the cut

---

“You’re gonna catch a cold out here, kit.”

Adrien’s lips pulled into a bittersweet smile, “I think that’s the least of our worries.”

Plagg sighed, hovering just above his shoulder, “At least transform into Chat Noir.”

Adrien shook his head, “You’re tired, and I’m running out of cheese.”

Plagg sighed, and didn’t say, then maybe we should go back.

Adrien’s never going back to that manor. Father could try dragging him kicking and screaming, but he was never going back.

(He had said that before. So many times.)

The wind picked up, the chill of late October stinging against Adrien’s exposed skin. He was underdressed and overwhelmed, with nothing but his school bag and his phone. His calls to Nino and Chloe had both fallen through, the reception bad because of course his luck ran that way. Adrien truly did feel alone.

Alone, but away from that wretched house.

He closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the park bench. At least he was free here.

(A terrible, nagging part of his mind that sounded so much like Father told him, you’ll go back eventually, he’s your dad, you’ll forgive him like you always do .

That part of his mind, cold and quiet, called this little stunt for what it was - a childish tantrum.)

Tears stung at his eyes.

“Adrien,” Plagg said softly, “It’ll rain soon.”

“Let it.”

His voice was vicious. Desperate.

He wanted to go home.

Plagg said nothing, finally realising that Adrien was serious about staying out. He settled onto Adrien’s shoulder, a comforting weight. He didn’t try to talk Adrien out of this stupid bit of rebellion, but he didn’t encourage him either.

Plagg always gave him space to figure things out for himself.

He appreciated that, but after a life of being told what to do, Adrien wasn’t sure how to figure things out.

The first droplets of rain are kind, a gentle warning. Adrien refused to budge. His heart hammered against his ribs, a steady rhythm that only picked up with the downpour.

Go back, Adrien tried to tell himself. Back to the manor, where it was cold but at least not drenched. Back to Father, who would hug him and say never leave me and it would be more suffocating than comforting. Back to his life, as Adrien Agreste, the perfect little model.

But he really, really didn’t want to go back.

The rain started hitting his face harshly, punishment for his indecision. Adrien wanted to curl up in his bed and cry, but he didn’t want to ever see his too-white, too-big room again.

“Adrien?”

His eyes snapped open, focusing past the blur of water to the person who had spoken.

“Marinette?”

She shifted her umbrella awkwardly, “Uh, hi. You’re wet - no, I mean, er - getting wet - “ she trailed off.

Adrien smiled fondly, “Yeah. What are you doing out here?”

“I was running an errand for my parents,” Marinette managed to say, with minimal stammering, “You?”

Her eyes were wide and concerned and warm against the autumn wind.

Though he counted Marinette as a friend, he couldn’t say they were close. He didn’t know how much to tell her, if anything at all. Had he been behind his mask, he wouldn’t have hesitated at all, but he never knew where Adrien stood with her.

Still, Marinette was dear to him, and always had a habit of showing up when he needed her most.

“I’m not sure what I’m doing here,” Adrien admitted quietly, “Or what I’m doing at all,” he scoffed, "Or where to go."

“Come home with me,” Marinette said boldly. Then, "Not - not home WITH me - I meant - come to my house - the bakery that is - at least, it’s out of the rain - and it’s close - "

She trailed off, smiling nervously, angling her umbrella so that it was covering him.

He couldn’t really say no. And the thought of macarons were always enticing.

“Thank you, Marinette,” Adrien said, “I promise to be out of your hair as soon as the rain clears.”

“Don’t be silly, you can stay forever - um, as long as you like, I mean.”

The bakery was much closer than Adrien had thought. Stepping into its warmth, Adrien was hit with the aroma of freshly baked pastries, which made him instantly hungry.

“My parents aren’t in,” Marinette said as she left the umbrella by the door, “Do you want something to eat?”

Everything, “Sure.”

“I’ll get you a towel too.”

Marinette got them so much tooth-rotting sugary goods that Father would flip if he saw them, which only made Adrien devour them with glee. Marinette giggled when Adrien got cream on his nose and tried to lick it off, completely forgetting he didn’t have Chat’s tongue right now.

They sat by the window, the steady pitter-patter soothing the last of Marinette’s nerves - enough for her to crack a pun about pastries, one that Adrien had to use next time around Ladybug. She laughed when he shared the story about the time he and Chloe had eaten enough sweets to make them sick, and he gasped at her story about how her dad invented a new kind of muffin recipe.

By the time they were finishing off the last macaron, Adrien had forgotten all his previous worries.

It all came crashing back however, when Marinette said, “I noticed your dad didn’t sign the form today. For the trip to Nice.”

Adrien flinched, “No, he didn’t.”

“How come?”

She was more curious than judgemental, which was why Adrien felt comfortable enough to confess, “I think he’s punishing me.”

Marinette drew back, “What? Why?”

“I messed up a photoshoot the other day. There was an akuma attack and I had to … go hide - I guess it’s not really an excuse - but - “

Marinette slammed down the glass she’d been drinking from, “That is SO unfair!”

Adrien shrugged, “It’s nothing new. He might just be being protective, I don’t know. Though … I sort of decided to not go back home today, because of it,” he laughed, “Overdramatic, I know.”

“He’s the one being overdramatic!” Marinette frowned, “Does Nino and Chloe know? I’m telling them, we’re kidnapping you. I’ll tell Alya too, she’ll tell the whole class,” she paused at her phone, “Should I tell Kagami and Luka? They’re not even on the trip …”

Adrien felt his insides warm. Hearing their names out loud … he sometimes forgot how many people he had, that cared for him.

Had he really been worrying over where home was, when he had already known?

“Marinette,” he said softly, “It’s okay. Thank you.”

“It’s not okay,” she pouted, but relented by putting her phone down.

“I know he loves me,” Adrien sighed, “I just wish he’d show it more.”

“Oh Adrien,” she reached over, covering his hand with hers, “I’m so sorry you have to go through that.”

“Yeah,” Adrien smiled, “Thank you.”

“You can stay here tonight if you like.”

Outside, the rain had slowed to a drizzle.

“It’s okay,” he said softly, “I think I’m okay now.”

Marinette didn’t seem to be pleased, but she didn’t push it, “At least take the umbrella with you.”

“I couldn’t - "

“It’s yours,” she blushed, “You - uh - gave it to me. First day of school.”

“Oh,” he grinned, “You kept it.”

“I forgot to give it back,” she softened, “Anyway, I think you need it more than me. For the next time it rains.”

Adrien gulped, blinking back the stinging in his eyes. He cleared his throat gently, “Um, before I go. This might sound weird, but do you have any cheese?”

Marinette laughed, “I do, actually! I keep it around for ... stray cats.”

It took Adrien a moment to realise she was talking about Chat Noir.

“You’re an amazing friend, you know that?” Adrien blurted out.

Marinette grinned, “I’ve been told. And you are too, don’t you forget it!”

Outside, holding plenty of cheese and pastries and one well-used umbrella, Plagg peeked out of Adrien’s jacket.

“Feeling better?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

Plagg snorted, “Then let’s go home. Your dad’s worried.”

“I doubt Father even noticed.”

“Other dad.”

Adrien had no idea what Plagg was talking about until he checked his phone, only to be bombarded with seventeen worried messages from the Gorilla.

“I’m in trouble, huh?”

Plagg only laughed.

Adrien grinned back, looking up at the sky. The rain had come to a stop now, leaving the skies grey, but the world clearer.

---

Author's Note: When I tell you this fic refused to cooperate with me, I mean that I had 5 stories in my head and came up with the 6th this morning. At least I had fun writing the rain as a metaphor!

Platonic Adrinette is an under-used gem, they are such a wholesome duo. The ship is fine, but nothing beats friendship <3

Also, on Gabriel - I don't doubt that he cares about Adrien, but sometimes caring isn't enough. In this case, it DEFINITELY isn't enough.

[k-comfyspace]

Satisfied

Idol: Ahn Yujin (Izone)

Request: Yes

Anon: may i request late night convenience store date with yujin ❤❤ thank u 😊

A/n: Might be a risky first request but I will do my best to avoid anything bad. But it’s too cute especially since I had this type of request in the back of my head.

You didn’t quite understand why students kept murmuring about you as you walked down the hall.

The students kept saying things that went along the lines of:

“Why are they staying with her anyway?”

“She’s going to forget them soon enough”

“Being famous, it gets inside your head sometimes”

“Bless their soul if she decides to forget about them”

You knew they were talking about Yujin but you never listened to them, they couldn’t understand anyway. To them, Yujin was some superstar they couldn’t interact with, it was either they were too shy, or she was too cool for them.

But for you, there was only a cute, dorky, and silly girl you met in 8th grade. For Yujin, you were the smart, clumsy, and the most supportive bestfriend she had, except for her members.

When you entered your class you spotted your bestfriend resting her head on the desk pulling a giggle out of you before you sat beside her and turned your body to face Yujin.

You tapped her shoulder, earning a groan from your best friend. Yujin raised her head and squinted her eyes at you, “I’m tired, leave me alone” you giggled at her tired voice but you kept speaking.

“I told you to get some sleep yesterday, right?”

You asked and earned another groan from the exhausted girl.

Yesterday your school had some sports activity which drained everyone in your class but Yujin was drained the most since she participated in a lot of the activities and added they had practice until midnight which made waking up at 7 am difficult.

“What happened to, ‘yes Y/n I would sleep right after practice so I wouldn’t be sleepy tomorrow morning’?” You pushed, a smile on your face but when your bestfriend shot up and turned to glare, you were afraid you pushed too far.

“It’s not my fault that we stayed up until midnight to practice and the tons of homework that piled up that doesn’t even make sense!” She yelled, catching your classmates attention as the room grew quiet.

You blinked, pursed your lips and softened your eyes to look at Yujin. It’s been the 5th time she blew up on you this week alone, you didn’t say anything, choosing to understand her moodiness but your feelings have been hurting for the past week.

You did offer her some help with her homework and projects but she always refused, insisting that she would do it herself.

When Yujin saw the look in your eyes she calmed down and her eyes softened before she looked around, her classmates looking at her, silently whispering. Yujin felt her eyes stinging as she swiftly covered her face and left the room.

You called after her, stopping at the door and glared at your classmates. “What’s wrong with you people?” You yelled before you followed after Yujin a couple steps behind her, hearing the faint muffled sobs as you ran.

Then Yujin turned sharply inside an empty classroom and slammed the door shut. You stopped, attempting to open the door but it was locked, “Yujin, could you open the door, please?” You called softly but you only got sniffles in reply.

You waited by the side to see if she would open the door before you sighed, moving to the side of the door and gave Yujin a moment.

After a few minutes you heard the lock turning, you stood placing your hand on the knob as you slowly opened the door, still heard some light sniffling from Yujin,

When you quietly closed and locked the door a sudden warm feeling spread against your chest as you felt Yujin’s arms wrap around your waist, feeling her head resting against your back as you reciprocated it. Placing your hand on top of hers and rubbing your thumb on the back of her hand.

Special, that’s what Yujin also thought about you, you were the person she could cry to. When she didn’t want to cry in front of her members she would allow herself to break down in front of you.

Yujin was comfortable with you, she could tell you her secrets, show her vulnerable side and you wouldn’t tell a soul. You respected her privacy and she adored that about you.

When she remembered how much she blew up this week she felt bad and hugged you tighter. You were so patient with her, even when she yelled, complained, ranted.

You listened and took everything she threw every time. She didn’t deserve you yet you came into her life like a blessing.

Both of you stayed inside the room for a few minutes before she pulled away and smiled at you, apologizing multiple times, “It’s fine, Daeng Daeng, I know how hard it is for you,” you rubbed her head before walking out of the room, an idea forming in your head when you entered your classroom.

“I’ll see you tonight?” Yujin asked and you giggled at her hopeful voice, “Yeah, we still have to do our project, remember?” You teased and she pouted at you cutely, “But we said no school work!” She whined, making you laugh while ruffling her hair.

You and Yujin have been planning for a sleepover for ages, but since she was part of a group she had to get permission from her unnies, which was proven to be a challenge since they didn’t know you.

It took a while but after a few months they finally gave in and saw what kind of person you were, allowing you to sleepover at their dorm.

“I’m just joking, I’ll call you when I’m leaving, yeah?” Yujin smiled, nodding her head excitedly as she ran to her van waving at you before the door closed and drove off.

When they turned the corner you pulled out your phone and scrolled until you found a specific number, “Hello? Eunbi unnie, could I ask you for a favor?”

Yujin huffed and laid down on the floor of the dance room, her breath puffing at her exhaustion. They did 3 runs of their choreo back to back just so they could have a perfect performance for their fans, which made her exhaustion add up to what Yujin was feeling that morning.

“It’s getting late, we should end it here, the maknaes need rest,” she heard their leader announce which made your friend shoot up with a bright spark in her eyes which made them giggle. “Not to mention Y/n would come over tonight, pack up everybody!”

With new found energy Yujin ran to her things and packed as fast as she could not noticing the happy smiles the members wore looking at her, only Yujin not knowing the plans in store for her tonight.

When Yujin and the others arrived at the dorm Yujin darted to her room and went straight to the bathroom to wash up, waiting for you to arrive.

A few minutes later you called on the phone, telling her that you were in the elevator heading up to their room, when the doorbell rang your friend excitedly opened it, smiling at you.

“Hey,” you greeted, going inside and waving to the other members as they greeted you.

“You can leave your bag here, Y/n just get it when you get back,” Eunbi said, earning a confused look as Yujin furrowed her eyebrows at the older woman’s comment. She looked at you as you thanked the older woman who wished both of you a goodnight.

“We’re going out?” She asked, earning a nod before Yujin glanced at the clock, confused, “But everything is already closed” she said and you shook your head,

“I know a place” is the only thing you said, making your way to the door mask and cap in hand.

“Tada~” you smiled, spreading your arms in front of the store, looking at your best friend who was staring at you weirdly.

“A convenience store, really?” She asked, a laugh bubbling from you before you pulled Yujin inside.

You went to the aisle, grabbing two cups of instant noodles and ice cream. Sitting it down on a table as you sat on the opposite side of Yujin before preparing your food.

“If you wanted to have instant noodles we have a lot back at the dorm,” she said as you ate some, shaking your head, “But you don’t have ice cream back at the dorm” you replied cheeks filled with noodles making your friend laugh.

Eventually, Yujin, gave up questioning your choices and ate happily, you two talking through the night, telling funny stories that you randomly thought about.

“Let’s take a picture,” You said, taking out your phone before snapping a few pictures, “I’ll title it, late night convenience date with Daengz,” you muttered making Yujin smile as you showed it to her before everything clicked.

You brought her out of the dorm to eat ramen in a convenience store, telling funny stories, knowing that she had a bad day.

Suddenly Yujin smiled brightly, her eyes turning into crescents as she stood up and went to hug you on your side, startling you at her sudden skinship.

“Thank you, for everything,” Yujin whispered, making you relax, a small smile coming to your face when she pulled away, dragging her cup to your side and ate while resting her head on your shoulder.

“It’s what I do,”

You spent the rest of your night talking about nothing and everything, doing your best to make your bestfriend smile with your stupid jokes.

You ignored the swelling of your heart in your chest when Yujin laughed or smiled at you. Because for now you were satisfied, all you needed was to see her smile and be happy.

By the end of the day you could say that you did a good job being her best friend.

[tessiete]

For the Spotify fanfic ficlet: 12 for the Kenobi-Kryze fam? 🥺

@lightasthesun so here’s the deal. I STRUGGLED with this. Because I wanted to give you happy, fun, fluffy times, and there are some real bangers on my Wrapped. I mean, relative bangers.

But you picked probably the most Obitine-angst appropriate song ever, and I was like......oh, no. I can’t - I can’t do that to them.

So, after several days of thinking about it, we came up with this. It’s...I refuse to call it angst, bc everyone is alive, and well. It’s just like, some family fun times. Thanks, especially to the Obitine discord, and @duchess-of-mandalore @mg024 and Finn!

And anyway, I hope you love it! Thank you so much for the challenge! <3

Prompt: The Chain (Ingrid Michaelson)

THE CHAIN

The sky over Capital City is grey, and tremulous when they arrive on Coruscant. A natural storm had surged over the breakers of the planet’s ancient atmo regulators to sound its rage and fury out above the city. It’s rare, but not unheard of, and though some might take it as an ill omen, Satine thinks it a fair reflection of the twisting winds within her breast. Rain falls in great, heavy drops, lashing its grief across the transparisteel viewports as they break through the clouds. Thunder cracks, righteous and defiant. Lightning fractures the plate of the sky, reaching out with jealous fingers to touch the earth. Korkie has slept through it all, but Satine doesn’t want to miss any moment more than she must.

They hit the pad with the sudden jolt of gravity reasserting itself, the locking clamps securing them in place. She feels each shudder of the ship echoing in her bones, the soft satyn of her simple travelling gown like water over her skin. Every contrast feels sharp, and malicious. She takes Korkie’s small hand in her larger one, and together they wait for the ramp to lower, releasing them into the wilds outside.

And they are met.

Across the platform, standing silent in the downpour, is Obi-Wan Kenobi. 

Though her vision blurs, and renders his face unreadable, she can see the straight line of his shoulders, the proud tilt of his chin, and the defiant stance of his feet spread wide. His hands are hidden in the fold of his cloak, and at his back are Masters Windu and Jinn.

At Satine’s back is the black maw of the ship, and the wind whistling through it. Korkie laughs, and she looks away from the Jedi to see her son, hands out, catching rain. 

“It’s wet! Belli, look!” he says, showing her his hand, shining in the grey light. “The sky is crying!”

Satine feels the rain coursing over her own face, and smiles in recognition of his delight.

“It is,” she says. “Happy tears, of course. Coruscant is glad to meet you, kih'kairkiyc.”

He grins at her, and she squeezes his hand, and together they cross the narrow bridge from the ship’s dock to the reception platform where they are met by Obi-Wan. He steps forward, and bows, deep, and formal.

“Duchess,” he says. His voice does not waver, but lies flat, and orderly in the space between them. 

He is much the same as she remembers, though his hair is longer, and his braid is cut. A beard has grown in, at long last, though she does not like how it covers his mouth, and hides half his face, and she longs to reach out and wipe it away so she might be able to read him again, like she used to. But there is more than an arm’s length between them, so instead, she nods her head in acknowledgement.

“Knight Kenobi,” she says, like glass, clean and showing nothing of itself.

Korkie tugs at her hand, and she pulls him forward to introduce him next. His fingers linger at the tips of hers as she lets him go. He takes a step. He takes a breath, and just as they’d practiced, he bows with his hands clasped before him, until his back is level with the floor.

“How do you do, Knight Kenobi?” Then, in succession, “Master Windu. Master Jinn.”

The three Jedi return the gesture. Master Windu is tense, and wary of her, she can tell, still unconvinced of the wisdom in this. Obi-Wan’s eyes are fixed on her, but Qui-Gon Jinn smiles at the boy, and Korkie stumbles back until he falls against his mother’s stomach, his hand reaching out to fist in the fabric of her gown to steady himself.

“Hello Korkie,” the old Jedi greets. His voice is soft, like birdwatchers in Keldabe before. “It’s good to finally meet you.”

Obi-Wan is pulled from his study of the past by this reminder of their present company. His hands drop, and he shifts, leaning towards her, his head ducked and uncertain.

“I apologise for the weather,” he says. “I would have - if there had been any indication of inclemence such as this, I would have suggested somewhere with a roof.”

“Of course,” Satine says, too quickly. Then, bridling herself, she continues. “Coruscant is usually such a civilised, and well-behaved planet, it could not have been foreseen.”

There is the promise of forgiveness at the end of her declaration, which Obi-Wan accepts with relief, and they smile at each other. It is brief, and carried more in their eyes, than in their mouths or hands, but it is there nonetheless.

“And you, Master Korkie,” says Qui-Gon, with a smirk of his own. “Are you more civilised, and well-behaved than you appear at first glance?”

He gestures to Korkies rumpled tunic, and mussed hair which sticks up in wild tussocks like knots of grass.

“Someone was rather exhausted by our journey,” says Satine, fondly. “He fell asleep just past Corsin.”

“It was rather a long flight,” says Korkie, in his own defence. “And I don’t much like flying. Lightspeed always feels funny.”

At this, Qui-Gon kneels to meet Korkie on his level, and speaks as if he is confessing some great secret.

“Do you know,” he says, “That Knight Kenobi also dislikes flying.”

Korkie throws a wondering glance at Obi-Wan, who shifts beneath the scrutiny.

“Truly?” he asks Qui-Gon.

The Jedi nods. “Yes, truly. Only he stays awake the whole time.”

“Why?”

“I think in order to complain,” says Qui-Gon. “He needs to be sure that I am equally as miserable as he is, otherwise he feels lonely for company. But it does make for a very long trip, from my point of view.”

“That’s silly, Knight Kenobi,” declares Korkie. He turns to address Obi-Wan directly, and though he speaks critically, his brow is lifted, and his eyes wide in an earnest desire to ease the knight’s discomfort. “It’s much better if you sleep,” he says, with all the wisdom of a moment. “The time goes by much faster.”

Obi-Wan is forced to accept his master’s censure with grace as to spare the gentle feelings of an innocent child, so he smiles, and bows to acknowledge the boy.

“As you say, Master Kryze. You are probably right.”

“I know I am,” Korkie says. “Even though I do look a little wild in the end. But I feel tidy. So I suppose it’s just a matter of which part of me you look at.”

With a rumble that starts deep in his belly, then tumbles out like thunder, Qui-Gon Jinn laughs.

“A man after my own heart,” he says, giving Korkie a little clap on the shoulder. “I foresee you will become a great Jedi, Kiorkicek Kryze.”

“Sorry to interrupt, Duchess, Obi-Wan,” says Master Windu, stepping between the parties, “But as this rain doesn’t look to be letting up any time soon, may I suggest we complete the investiture ceremony somewhere a little drier?”

He levels Obi-Wan with a challenging glance, but its severity is diminished somewhat by his own bedraggled state. Despite their equal exposure, the rain has somehow managed to do more damage to Mace Windu’s composure than any of the others. Perhaps because he is more conscious of his position, and his dignity than the other two, Qui-Gon being rather untroubled by such pretensions, and Obi-Wan still humbled and distracted by the circumstances in which he’s come face to face with the unquiet ghosts of his past. Both of them wear the rain with ease, but Mace has struggled, unable to convince himself of the need to shield himself, but conscious of the desire. His cloak is patchy with damp, and the top of his head reflects the sky, the water washing his face, and dripping from his lips and chin. It is clear that Obi-Wan feels this indignity on his superior’s behalf, but Satine fights laughter at the spectacle.

“I think that would be wise, Master Windu,” she says, her voice tripping and sparking with barely repressed delight.

“Thank you, ma’am,” he says, with a shallow bow. And then he says, “There is an air car waiting.”

And Satine feels her stomach drop.

She meets Obi-Wan’s eye over Mace’s shoulder. His gaze is steady, and somber and as he makes his answer to the master’s request, and she can hear farewell in the heaviness of his voice.

“Yes, Master Windu,” he says. “Satine, I’m sorry we must be so brief, but I -” and he stands gaping, and voiceless for a moment.

The tight knuckle of sickness twists in her gut, scraping across the raw nerves of the underside of her skin, buckling muscles, and shifting against her bones, but she swallows the nausea back, and saves Obi-Wan from the inexorable void of silence.

“Do not apologise, Obi-Wan,” she says. “These things cannot be helped. Perhaps it is better this way. Perhaps the sting will be less.”

“Like a plaster,” he says, numbly.

And she agrees. “Just like.”

Master Jinn’s rises from his crouch, leaving his hands to ghost over Korkie’s shoulders, his hand still wrapped in her own, and Obi-Wan still staring at her, still drowning in the rain. Master Windu is merciful then, and bows out his leave taking.

“I’ll prepare the car,” he says.

“Thank you, Mace,” says Qui-Gon, when no one says anything else, and Master Windu leaves them to say goodbye. 

But still, no one moves. Silence falls, a fragile, lacework thing, too delicate to touch with the clumsy fingers of speech. They remain suspended in its web for an age, until Qui-Gon braves what the others cannot fathom, and speaks again.

“Obi-Wan,” he says, stepping away from Korkie to reach for his own grown padawan. “A word.”

He draws him aside, turning away, turning their backs to Satine and Korkie, and speaking quietly in Obi-Wan’s ear, an arm about his shoulders, and drawing him close in private assignation. At another time, she might feel ostracised and othered by this, but now, she is grateful. It is she who is with Korkie, and the Jedi who must stand apart.

She kneels to face her son, heedless of her skirt, of the thin satyn and how it catches at the rough duracrete, pulling taut, maybe tearing beneath the pressure of her knees. She doesn’t care. It doesn’t matter. What matters is this: herself, and her son, and the rain washing away the things between them.

“I don’t want to go,” says Korkie, and she grips his hands tighter than before.

“You must,” she says. “You must. You are going to be a wonderful Jedi Knight. Just think of that.”

“I don’t care,” he says. “I know I said before, but I changed my mind. I want to go home.”

“You can’t go home, kih'kairkiyc,” she replies, her tongue growing thick with a truth she hates to speak. “Remember? We talked about this. It’s dangerous. But you will be safe here. Knight Kenobi will protect you.”

“But who will protect you if I’m not there?”

“Oh, many people, Kiorkicek,” she says. “A whole court of people. All the people. The people of Mandalore will be my strength, and they will take very good care of me while you’re away, and one day, when you come home, they will be glad to meet you again, and so will I.”

“Do you promise?” he asks. “You won’t forget me? Even if I’m gone for a very long time?”

“Even if you were gone for almost as long as forever, I would never forget you, Kiorkicek Kryze. Ni kar'tayl gai sa'ad. Ratiin.”

“Ratiin,” he repeats. “Always, and always.”

“Yes,” she avows. “Now, do you remember what I told you?”

“To wash my face, and brush my teeth every day, even if I’m very sleepy.”

And she laughs, pulling him close to her breast, and tucking his head beneath her chin.

“Yes,” she says. “That is very important, but what else?”

“To listen to the masters, and study hard, and show respect, and try my best, and to always, always be very kind to Knight Kenobi, because he isn’t always very kind to himself.”

“Yes,” she whispers. She presses a kiss to his hair, and combs it as flat as she can. “That last part, most especially, kih'kairkiyc. Look after each other. For me.”

“Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum, Belli.”

“Bal Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum, balyc.”

“Satine?” The call is Obi-Wan’s and she looks up from the cradle of her embrace, and her son within it to see him standing cautious, and concerned a few paces away. “It’s time to go.” 

“Of course,” she says. She stands. She takes Korkie’s hand, nestled in her own, and places it in Obi-Wan’s. For a moment, the three of them are one, together, and then…

She lets go.

“Goodbye, my Kiorkicek,” she says. “Remember what I told you. Kote, ijaa, aliit. Ratiin.”

He nods, and she can see his grip tighten on Obi-Wan’s hand, fierce determination rising in the face of her expectations. It is Obi-Wan who falters.

“Satine, I -” he shakes his head. His eyes match the storm. “I will do my best by him, I swear. I will not fail you. I will not.”

“I know,” she says, steady where he is not. “I would not give him up to another. None but you, Obi-Wan Kenobi. Gar ratiin ru’kar'taylir. Be gentle with it.”

He nods. There is nothing else to say, and they’ve always been terrible at goodbye. She smiles at Korkie one last time, and he points at the sky.

“Happy tears,” he says, and grins, wiping the salty streaks from his own face.

And with that, he tugs on Obi-Wan’s hand, and leads him off towards the distant figure of Mace Windu, and the air car waiting patiently to take them home.

But Satine is not alone.

Qui-Gon Jinn steps close, until she can feel his shoulder jut up against her own, the warmth of his body breaching the barricade of wet clothes, to soothe her own chapped skin, and she shivers against him.

For a moment, they say nothing, just watching as Obi-Wan turns to Korkie, and Korkie to Obi-Wan, chatting animatedly, his free hand swooping through the air. She imagines he must be telling him of their departure from Mandalore, and the world he left behind, and she hopes that selfishly, she might be included in as many of these stories as he thinks to tell, because he is in all of hers. Qui-Gon chuckles beside her.

“Fast friends, already,” he says.

“Forgotten just as fast,” she whispers, nearly losing the words to the storm. But Qui-Gon is listening closely.

“Never that,” he says. He wraps an arm around her shoulders, and she yields like water, dropping her head to his shoulder, and weeping into the crook of his neck.

“I thought I was ready,” she says, hitching breaths to match the shifting winds. “But it has come too soon.”

She feels his chin press against her skull, and though it isn’t exactly comfortable, there is comfort in the angles of his affection, and she leans closer to him, until her arms sneak beneath the wet folds of his outer robe, and wrap around his waist. She clings there, as though she might blow away. This is familiar, though it is an old, old memory, now. She was once a girl, before she was a Duchess, and Qui-Gon Jinn was once to her the very thing her father could not be. She was bereaved, but never lost, and there were many nights that Qui-Gon held her while she wept just like this. It is easy to reach for him, now. It is easy to look back.

“You are never ready,” he says, his voice vibrating so near to her ear it is as though he speaks to her from within her own mind. “But he is not going very far. He is with his family. He is with his father. You are not losing him to the wilderness.”

“No,” she says. “Only to the Force.”

He does not chide her for the bitterness upon her tongue.

His own words remain gentle, and soothing, and he rocks her in his arms, as they watch the matched set of their hearts walk away.

“Then I have lost my own heart twice,” he says. “First to the Force, and then to you. But people always come back, in one way or another. No one is gone forever.”

And as they reach the car, as though he hears their call from across a vast, unending night, and over the wind and roar of the storm, Obi-Wan looks back, and Qui-Gon smiles.

“Oh, look,” he says, as the knight turns once more to his son. “There he goes again.”

Satine buries her face in Qui-Gon’s arms, and though she doesn’t feel at peace, for a moment, she feels like she has come home.

[ssson-of-sparda]

A TRIP TO THE BEACH - PART 2 (DANTE X FEM!READER)

Summary: When Dante shows up, Patty finally learns how things ended between Y/N and him but that's not the kind of ending she likes. (Part 5 of A Tab To Erase) (Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4)

Tags: Dante is Tony Redgrave / Love / Angst / Blood and Gore / Minor Character Death / Violence

Author’s note: This is the end! I hope you enjoyed this fan fiction as much as I enjoyed writing it. I can't wait to read your thoughts about it. Is it the end you expected? How did you imagine it? Tell me everything. I'm all ears

Patty dared peeping from above the headrest of the couch when the woman opened the door, definitely curious to see the two adults’ reactions when they would finally see each other – though she still feared Dante’s wrath a little.                 But when she finally saw them face-to-face, this couple she had been imagining – and rooting for - for weeks, she didn’t care about her friend’s anger or disappointment - He would definitely thank her later - . They looked so perfect, like coming from an episode of one of those telenovelas she loved so much. Dante was towering Y/N perfectly and she was so pretty. And the lighting.  Gosh “Like a scene from a movie.” She sighed. If only she could read their minds right now.      “There you are, young lady!” Dante declared with a menacing finger as he entered the house            “Hi Dante! What are you doing here?” Patty tried to play innocent but there was something in her voice that couldn’t fool Dante. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I never thought this annoying little brat would dare come here … or steal my stuff.”  “That’s alright, Dante. We were having fun actually. And at least, that girl dared visit me … unlike someone else.” Dante definitely felt that sting and he knew he deserved it. “How long has it been?” “A while.” He said, pretending to be casual even though he had the right amount of years and months in mind. “And this day never happened. Come on, Patty. Let’s go.”             No, no, no. This couldn’t end like that. Patty thought. Not after all this time. “Can I at least finish my tea please?”                  “ I’ll buy you a tea on the way back to Red Grave. Let’s go!” Dante insisted as he came closer to the girl to grab her by the arm and drag her away from Y/N’s place as fast as possible. “Right. Like I’m going to believe you. You never buy me anything, even when you owe me.” Y/N smiled while Dante sighed deeply. “Damn it.”                  “ Plus, you still owe me a trip to the beach.”   “ Alright. I’ll take you to the beach. You happy? Now let’s go.” He tried to pull her from the sofa but the girl resisted.             “ Or … you can let Y/N finish her story.” Patty suggested. Dante glanced at Y/N whom he hadn’t seen go to the kitchen to prepare him a strawberry sundae. “Actually I’d prefer that. Y/N can you continue your story, please?”   “ Well, maybe Dante can tell you so that you can finally erase his tab while I’m making this devil a strawberry sundae. Topped with a cherry and two pink wafers, is that it?”           “I don’t know. You’re the pro.” He had a faint smile at her that Patty noticed and beamed at. About time. “Where did you stop you damn story?”

A TRIP TO THE BEACH - Part 2

Dante was sitting at his desk, eyes closed, a magazine covering his face while he was listening to some good old school metal on the jukebox he had just acquired when the damn machine starting to sizzle and shake. “You gotta be kidding me.” Dante complained and, with a deep sigh, got up from his chair to kick the jukebox like Y/N had once taught him. “Funny how those machines always need a good kick to work.”          When he thought of his beloved girlfriend and realised how late it was, he wondered how the hell she had not arrived yet. It was very dark outside and the clock was striking one. The restaurant should be closed by now and Y/N should have been in his arms at least an hour ago, naked preferably.

Not sure Patty needs to know that.

Worry tied Dante’s stomach in a knot in spite of his sleepy brain screaming at him not to be paranoid. “Relax, Dante. She’s probably helping clean the kitchen or something”, he told himself     And yet, tired of repeating this sentence over and over again in his head, he decided to grab his coat and head to the diner. Better be paranoid and look like fool rather than wait here and worry one more second. Plus, he had waited long enough already and he had made a fool of himself in front of Y/N more than once. So what was one more time, huh?

But when Dante arrived at the restaurant and found it empty and dark, he wished he looked like a paranoid fool. But he was not paranoid and he was not a fool. He was terrified and alert in ways he hadn’t been for years. “Please be okay.” He whispered as he entered the place, feeling once again like a little boy hidden in a cupboard, crying for mommy and his brother. A ghastly feeling for someone who had spent years burying his past deep in his armoured heart as a promise … a dying wish.

Dante climbed the stairs quickly, very quickly and yet not quickly enough to his taste, only to stop and freeze at the sight and smell of warm blood on the wooden floor. But there was not just iron and salt flowing to his nostrils, there was this stench, rotting and disgusting, a stench only his demon sense could pick but that would soon be unbearable for humans too, he was sure of it. The stench of decaying corpses.

The son of Sparda never really liked Y/N’s parents. He actually lost almost all sort of respect for them the second they insulted him and made him understand they would never approve of him or of his relationship with their precious daughter. But when he saw them both, drenched in blood and completely ripped apart, their broken bodies lying on the floor of in their bedroom, he couldn’t help but feel sadness and compassion especially for the woman who was standing in the corner of the room, petrified and in tears, her small feminine frame strongly hold in a demonic grip. A nightmarish vision that had been scaring Dante for too long.               “Took you long enough… Son of Sparda.” The demon said with a calm and yet menacing cavernous voice that would make anyone tremble in fear. But that wasn’t the sound of his voice that made Dante afraid – because yes he was afraid –

You? Afraid? Rrr, shut up!

It was the sight of the woman he loved so close to that monster’s sharp claws.           The half-demon squinted at the devil before him, at his cloaked silhouette hidden in the darkness, trying to hide his fear, turning it into a nonchalant and over-confident mask he knew how to wear better than anything else (except his red leather jacket) but that somehow didn’t look as convincing as usual. “I’m afraid you’ve got the wrong guy, pal. Sparda may have a son. But that's not me.”          “Tony, what’s going on?” Y/N’s voice was shaking just like the rest of her body.            “It’s alright, baby. I’ll get you out of here. I promise.” He had too.        “You can try and pretend to be someone else. But I know who you are. Dante, Son of Sparda. And soon, your blood will flow for what your father did to my master.” Usually, that same old routine would have made Dante scoff and slice that creature in two for he was used to demons coming at him with pathetic threats and silly villain monologues. But today, what was at stake was simply way too important for impulsiveness.           “And who would that master be?”         “The one true king of the underworld. Mundus.”

Dante had heard that name before, long ago, in something that was now a long-time memory. Mundus was the villain of his favourite bedtime story, the one his father would always tell him and Vergil before going to sleep, when they were nothing but kids tucked in their beds.            Mundus. He remembered how that name would make him fidget and jump in anticipation and how his big brother in the bed under his would always kick him through the mattress to make him stop wriggling like a hyperactive goldfish out of water.            Mundus, the so-called Prince of Darkness Sparda had cast away and locked in the underworld a long long time ago to free the human world from his diabolical tyranny. Never thought he would have ever heard about him in another context though.

“Oh. That dude. Thought he would be dead by now… like you soon will be”    “Cocky, just like that filthy betrayer Sparda.” The demon smiled, showing short pointy black fangs that yet shone in the dim moonlight. “And in love with a human, just like he was. It would be a shame …” He grabbed a strand of Y/N’s (colour) hair to toy with it with a vicious smirk, making the young woman shiver even more. “… if something were to happen to her the same way something happened to your slut mother” Dante felt his jaw clench tight and his nails pierce the flesh of his palms. The rage, it was slowly yet surely eating at him.               “Don’t you dare talk about my mother! And don’t you dare lay even just a finger on Y/N!” Dante growled, not realising he had just given his identity up. But the black demon did and with a satisfied smile, he cupped Y/N’s face in between his vile sharp claws to burry his long nose in Dante lover’s soft hair and smell her human perfume that was oh so exquisite to him. An intended provocation and an effective one.      “How chivalrous! How noble! I’m sure your father would have said the same thing…” Dante frowned and clenched his fists even tighter, trying to stay put and in control, trying desperately to resist the powerful will to pounce on that demon and impale him on his sword and spill his guts on the floor. He knew he had too because he knew that the reaction he thought so much about was exactly what that monster wanted.           He was trying to infuriate him, to make him reckless and stop thinking rationally so that he would have him at a possible advantage when he let his rage have the best of him. Provocation at its finest. A strategy Dante knew all about. “… had he been here when I and my fellow demons tore her apart.” Yes, he knew all about it and yet... “Mundus says farewell, hybrid filth.” He suddenly stopped caring about what he knew.

Dante jumped and with a scream, unsheathed his sword to slash the arm that was holding Y/N. An impulsive move, a mistake he realised only too late, when the demon pierced the soft neck of the one he loved the most with his sharp claws in an attempt to protect himself from the demonic blade.       Everything went so quick to Y/N and yet so slow to Dante. She didn’t scream. She didn’t even have time to realise what was going on or to process the sudden pain. She only understood something was wrong when her body hit the floor and she saw Dante’s icy blue eyes widen and stare at her in horror. Then she felt the blood, her blood she was quite certain of it, running along her pale skin covering it in shades of dark red.                   Dante screamed like never before, like no human could, so loud the walls trembled and the demon slightly bowed down in fear. He screamed with an anger, a rage he didn’t know he was capable of, something so deep and passionate he never thought was in him. Something fiery … something … demonic. It felt like his skin was burning, like there was a ravaging fire spreading, growing in his body, menacing to burst, to combust him. And it almost did. It almost did but it stopped just when Rebellion sliced the head of the demon open, spilling his brains and his blood on the walls behind him.   Then, there was a relief that all this was over. The fight. The fire. The fear…  No not the fear!

“Y/N” Dante ran to her and quickly pressed her body against his. His hand found her neck to apply pressure on her bloody wound. She was barely conscious but she was still with him. “I’m so sorry, baby. Hold on, I got you.” He kissed her forehead. It was so cold against his lips. “You’re gonna be okay. I promise.”

Dante stayed by her side for what seemed hours to him, holding her tight against him, trying to keep the weakening life in her safe, when finally blue and red lights began to flicker in the bedroom. What happened next was so blurry. All he could make out were a group of men dragging Y/N from his embrace, saying they would take care of her and that he had to let her go. He didn’t know how he did it but he eventually obeyed those men, in spite of his arms trying to reach for her.         He followed them- followed Y/N- to the crowded street where the nearby residents were crammed into, whispering and trying to take a peep at what was going on in this usual very quiet neighbourhood. But he didn’t care about them or their judgmental looks. All he cared about was Y/N being taken away in an ambulance.   The paramedics didn’t let him in. And in spite of how much he wanted to fight their decision, Dante chose not to. He couldn’t delay them. Y/N’s life depended on time and too much had been wasted already.

But he found her again, like he would always find her, and he spent days waiting for her to wake up, waiting for her beautiful (colour) eyes to open again, for her sweet voice to say she was alright, his hand holding hers in an eternal grip that only her awakening could break, days in which he had to think about what happened, about what could have happened and what will happen. So many hypothesis, each one worse than the last.       And when Y/N finally awoke and, with a soft smile that bear no grudges or hatred, said. “Hey handsome.” He did what he thought he should have done days ago. “We need to end this.”

***

Patty’s eyes were glowing with tears as she was staring at Dante without blinking. This was certainly the saddest love story she had ever heard in her entire life. Even Bolero in Spring had never made her feel so much. “You can’t do that!” She declared as if in denial, as if she could change the past. “The story can’t end like this!”    “But it is not a story, Patty. This is not some television show made to satisfy a bunch of hopeless romantic little girls. It’s real life. And real life is tough and …” Dante looked at Y/N, at her sad eyes and at the scar she was trying to conceal under a red silk scarf. “What’s done cannot be undone.” “But you loved each other!” The girl was almost furious, shaking her head nervously.              “Patty.” Dante said calmly.       “And you still love each other, I’m sure of it. I can tell by the way you both tell your story.”   “Patty.” Dante repeated with insistence this time.     “I won’t have this ending! No way!” She shouted with a deep frown.                  “It has already ended!” Dante screamed and Patty froze. He had never screamed at her, never in his entire life, even in times when she was incredibly annoying. He had never screamed at her. “It has ended. And neither you nor anyone can change it, okay? If it doesn’t please you, you can leave, wait in the car and go back to your mushy love series.”

There was a pregnant silence in which Patty stared at Dante with a disappointment he had never witnessed. “Y/N was right. You know how to fight demons. But you don’t know how to fight YOUR demons.” And she got up and left the house to do exactly what her beloved friend had told her, meaning wait in the car to go back to mushy love stories, leaving Dante and Y/N alone in the living room with nothing else but a heavy discomfort.

“I’m sorry for making a scene.”                “ Well, you always had a flair for the dramatic.” They both had a conspiratorial smile similar to the ones they used to share when they were younger except it was fainter, sadder. “ She read the letter, the one you wrote me” Dante said staring at his hands in discomfort. He couldn’t look at Y/N, not with all the memories rushing in his head.                  “ I figured.” But she looked at him, excepting deep down he would say something, anything about what happened.”Never thought you would have kept it though.”               “ Why not?”       “ You never replied.” And there it was, that disappointment Dante well deserved.   “I did reply. I just never sent the letter.” Y/N's eyes slightly widened at this unexpected confession. What did he mean by that?              “Huh, words of advice. After writing a letter to someone, you need to mail it.” She declared sarcastically, not really knowing how she managed to crack such a joke. Was it a joke? Maybe, because Dante laughed a bit.       “ I had no money to buy a stamp.” The girl scoffed. She knew the man before her all to well to know that this was “Bullshit.” But she had missed it, missed him.  “What did it say?”          “ Same crap I told you at the hospital. How much I was sorry and … You know what? … There.” He opened his red coat to take a crumpled letter from his inside pocket. It was unsealed, stamped –obviously- and her name and address were written on it.                “ I hope Devil May Cry will never provide delivery service cause this has clearly arrived way too late.” However she took it in her hands, gathering all her inner strength not to tremble as she could feel all those emotions shaking inside of her.  “ Years too late. You can say it.” Dante smiled as he watched the letter he had kept to himself for so many years finally reaching its long-awaited recipient.  “I don’t expect you to read it … or open it. You can actually turn it into a paper plane or shove it down my throat if you want. I won’t fight you.” Of course he had to joke, to play it cool but she didn’t mind. She knew it was just one of his defence mechanism and she couldn’t blame him for it.      “ So why giving it to me?” Dante shrugged, refusing to admit he did want her to read what his young 19 years old self had to say, what he still had to say. “You can’t stop with the devil-may-care for a second and admit what you truly want, what you truly feel, can you?”     “ Fight my demons, huh?” He quoted her and she nodded. “Yes. Would that be so complicated for a ‘menacing devil hunter’ like yourself?” It was her turn to quote him but that quote made him melancholically happy.                   “ I guess that’s a challenge I still can not face.”              “ Or don’t want to” There was a new pause and as they finally looked at each other’s eyes, they knew they would not fix what had been broken years ago today. He was not ready. Not yet anyway. And that was okay. Y/N was patient. She could wait. She could keep waiting.     “Goodbye Y/N” Especially when this time a kiss on her forehead and a hand on her cheek felt more hopeful than ever. “Goodbye, Dante.”

And she watched him leave, again, but certain that someday, one day he would come back to her as he always would. After all, he promised.

[softrozene]

Hellooo! I hope you're okay. Can I get a scenario for Benn Beckmann, Crocodile and Smoker with a female reader who confesses her feelings, please ?

I’m doing amazing Lovely. I hope you’re doing wonderful too! <3 I am such a sucker for requests like these. They feed into my love for fluff and cuteness, so I hope you enjoy this! Because of the theme requested and the characters personalities I gave the reader more of a shy girl kind of personality!

Benn, Crocodile, Smoker x Female Reader

Warnings: Fluff to the max

Words: 1818

Benn Beckmann-

Benn has a bad feeling the second he saw your cute form go up to the captain. He always gets an uneasy feeling when you talk to Shanks and yes, he is aware he is jealous, and he does not hide it very well, but this time felt different. Mostly because Shanks is giggling like a girl and your face looks beyond flustered.

Normally, he would go to your rescue but the second he sees Shanks look at him he had the urge to run away from his captain’s idiocy. He could not do so after you turn as well and give him a look that makes his heart ache. Whatever is going on he does not like it but seeing that look you gave him, makes him stay in place.

Benn is usually a quiet man and one who definitely does not wear his heart on his sleeve but the crew members who he’s been with from the start of the Red Hair Pirates can see through him. They know how smitten he is with you just as you are with him. It is almost painful that the two of you are not together and that is why while Benn is keeping an eye on you and Shanks from afar, Shanks is trying to convince you to confess to Benn.

The thought terrifies you. Your face heats up like a fire and you feel dizzy just thinking about it. Shanks is making fun of you and you want to hit him but of course, you do not dare. It is all in good faith that he is teasing you anyway.

The worry practically paints your being and Shanks gives in to give you his captain talk.

“Listen (Name), you are a strong, beautiful, intelligent woman. I can promise you that Benn will reciprocate your feelings. On the highly slim chance that he does not I will owe you a date night to lather you up with the romance you deserve,” Shanks promises.

The thought makes you want to gag immediately since you are not interested in your captain and Shanks laughs since you did not hide that. His words did reach you though and you turn around yet again to see Benn staring at you.

It is now or never.

As you walk up to Benn, he kicks himself for staring for so long. Even more, he wishes he knew what Shanks said to you to make your face so flustered.

“Benn?” Ah. The way you say his name makes him smile as he hums in response.

You go for it. “I like you. A lot. I know I may not be the most confident of women but-“

This is really happening. Benn can’t hear your words as the smile on his face grows. He glances back towards his captain who in return gives him a thumbs up. He cuts your now stuttering sentence off as he places a hand on your shoulder.

“I like you too, (Name). If you are sure you want to pursue a relationship with me then by all means I accept,” Benn says.

And that was how Benn accidentally killed a crewmember, his new partner, with Shanks as a witness when your body hit the ground and you went to cloud nine.

Crocodile-

“Do you know why you are here?” Crocodile questions.

You look a bit nervous but overall, pretty composed. He is impressed since anyone else would have usually pissed their pants by now. You do not answer him and even though that agitates him he lets it pass since you are one of his most valuable assets.

“You have been distracted. It is affecting your work. Would you like to tell me why?” He asks leaning into his hand.

Despite the way he asked it with a certain gentleness to it, his hook starts to carve into the desk leaving the silent threat. Any other person would be terrified, and it looks like you are, but you are just nervous. Your heart is racing wildly as you try to distract yourself from feeling a bit too hot from the threat of his hook.

“I have a perfectly reasonable explanation,” You start.

You want to tell him, but it may mean your death sentence. This man does not tolerate distractions. The only reason why he has not murdered you on the spot for your suddenly slow work is because your loyalty is as high, maybe even higher than Mr. 1’s loyalty. That is a great feat and one Crocodile appreciates even if he has no problems getting rid of his loyal followers.

He raises an eyebrow and you decide that saying your feelings for him would be worth it even if he decides to take your life.

“I like somebody… Romantically,” You begin.

Your eyes widen however when his hook crashes into the desk leaving a big and ugly scratch. The veins on his neck are prominent and for a moment you believe that he is jealous. It is a silly little thought but one that could bring you to tears with joy. It’s impossible though. You want to cry from embarrassment now. Crocodile is just angry that your romantic feelings got in the way of your work, you convince yourself this.

In reality, the second you admitted this, Crocodile saw red. You have feelings for someone? Nobody but he deserves your kind and loyal personality. You fit him perfectly and he would protect you no matter what. So, he is angry at whoever has your mind and heart right now.

He lost his composure for a second and he regrets it upon seeing your saddened face. Slight pride is in him for being able to get that reaction out of you though because that means you know your feelings for another are unacceptable.

Crocodile decides to go straight to the point. “Tell me who he is so I can destroy him. You are aware that feelings only cause distractions.”

The words sting and hard. He can see you flinch from this and your hesitation is strong. This is a first and he astounded that you out of everyone else may withhold this information. It almost makes him scoff. Of course, he should have known better. Even among the most loyal, they may betray him.

He is ready to crush all his feelings for you at this moment when you open your mouth and freeze. He allows you the moment to say the stupid name, but his eyes widen at what you do say.

“It is you. I like you romantically.”

He can sense your need to go run and hide and honestly? With what he does next he does not blame you. He laughs. Anyone would take this the wrong way which is why he is quick to compose himself and say, “This changes everything. Especially since I return your feelings. It would only make sense that we get involved with each other officially to avoid any more distractions, doesn’t it?”

He seems to have broken you as you stare at him awe that he really feels the same way. He accepts that as an answer.

“Prepare for a date tonight. Expect nothing but the best now that I can freely call you my woman.”

Smoker-

Today felt funny to Smoker for some odd reason. Usually, he is not this dense especially when his subordinates are involved which is why he is getting heavily annoyed that they are whispering amongst themselves while sending him glances.

He can’t recall what he did to warner these glances, but he suspects it has something to do with you as soon as he sees them glance your way. You, as always, are stuck in your head. It makes him stop as he thinks about you for a moment.

You are a strong and resilient woman. At first, he did not believe this with how much of an airhead you were but then he saw you in battle and honestly? He saw you more than a subordinate. He realized how compassionate you were for others. Seeing you in a different light alone made him angry but whenever you are around, he becomes fully aware of his body’s and emotion’s reactions to you. He becomes aware of how the subordinates treat you.

Getting a bit irritated with his feelings, he looks away from you and begins to glance over the ship. Though from the corner of his eye he can see Tashigi talking to you. He huffs more at the thought of you two being closer seeing as you both are the only females on this marine ship.

He looks away and grits his teeth as the irrational thoughts in his head begin to deepen.

“Sir? Sir!” You call out making him jump.

He immediately tries to fight off the blush trying to paint his cheeks as he realizes how close you are to him. You are trying to peer into his face to see if he is okay.

“Are you okay?” You ask genuinely concerned.

Smoker forces him to cough as he nods his head. “Yes. Fine. What is it you need, (Last Name)?”

“I, uh, it really is nothing. I just wanted to say how much I appreciate you and that I actually find you really attractive and I know it’s against the rules since you are my superior and all but when I look at you I see a handsome man that I can really build a future with and I haven’t felt this way about anyone else before and I just can’t help admire the way you look and behavior sometimes and-”

Many ands later, Smoker’s face has turned beet red and he can feel the need to vanish into the smoke but from sheer happiness. You, you confessed to him? Even more, you gave a whole speech with your confession and somehow you manage to look adorable as you try and retract your confession. You seemed to realize that you ended up rambling and now became a mess as you try and backtrack the conversation to the original question of if he was okay.

He finally as enough. He can’t help it, especially when he finds out that your feelings are mutual. He grabs your face with one hand, pinching your cheeks as he makes you pucker your lips and he pushes his on top with ease.

It made you shut up… Oh… It made you almost pass out. He can feel the heat off your face as your brain sizzles from malfunctioning.

“Go finish your duties (Name)… I’ll request a night off for the two of us for a proper date,” Smoker whispers as he returns to his serious face.

Even if he does get serious again, you can’t help but notice the slight pink on his cheeks still that is proof you accomplished something with your confession.

[headaching]

headaches

excerpt from a mailee work in progress based on "headaches" by raveena.

hurt/comfort, flashback to childhood, more coming soon <3

Ty Lee sighs and unwinds her arms to rest her hands against Mai’s shoulders again. “I missed you,” Ty Lee says quietly, fiddling with the collar of Mai’s uniform, staring at her fingers. Mai’s tongue is like steel in her mouth, unable to form a response. “I’m sorry,” Ty Lee whimpers, then finally looks into Mai’s eyes. She shakes her head and gives something between a laugh and a cry.

“Ty—” is all Mai can say before Ty Lee’s shoulders crumple forward and heavy tears streak her makeup slightly. “No, no, no,” Mai mutters as she sits up straighter. Instinctively, Mai’s hands find Ty Lee’s shoulder blades and begin rubbing circles into her back. “It’s okay. Don’t cry, Ty Lee. You’ll ruin your hard work.”

Ty Lee’s hands move to touch her face, but Mai’s catch them first. She squeezes firmly, and Ty Lee watches in surprise, tears momentarily lapsed. Mai scours her brain for something, anything, to make them disappear altogether. “Hey,” she says gently, then smiles, only adding to Ty Lee’s confusion. “Do you remember when you used to have nightmares, at the academy? And you would crawl into my bed because you were scared?”

“Mai?” A breakable voice stuttered in the night.

Mai knew the nightmare had been different when she rolled over and got one look at Ty Lee. Her head was bowed forward, hands cradling her own shoulders, eyes closed, all in a way that made her look smaller than usual.

“Hey,” Mai said groggily, shifting to sit upright in her bed. Ty Lee’s eyes opened, then screwed shut again as she turned her head away. Tears shone on her cheeks in the minimal moonlight, and the most horrific, pained sobs escaped her quivering lips. A sense of protection washed over Mai, and suddenly her toes made contact with the cold wood floor.

Standing, the space between them felt charged. Ty Lee’s eyes opened at the sound of Mai’s feet on the floor, but only for a moment. She twisted her body away from her, hiding further into herself. Usually, Mai would pretend to be uninterested in comforting Ty Lee for selfish reasons; her presence in Mai’s arms was not permanent. When she reached for Ty Lee, and she always did, it came with the promise of early morning light, the painstaking disentanglement of their arms, the final featherlight touch of her fingers against Ty Lee’s cheekbone before Mai turned away for good.

Seeing her like that, exposed and scared, none of it mattered anymore.

With one arm outstretched, Mai bridged the gap between them. A tentative hand smoothed across Ty Lee’s trembling shoulder. “You’re shaking,” Mai mumbled as a justification for wrapping both arms around Ty Lee’s shoulders. Ty Lee steadied herself by holding onto Mai’s arms, and gave a single calm sigh. Mai exhaled deeply as she rocked Ty Lee back and forth, eventually resting her forehead against the back of Ty Lee’s head.

“What happened?” Mai asked as her chin fell to Ty Lee’s shoulder so she could gauge her reaction. Ty Lee didn’t respond. “Hmm?” Ty Lee breathed evenly, but tears still fell with every blink. “Creatures?” Mai guessed, and Ty Lee shook her head. Mai tried again, “Someone you know?” These were frequent plots to Ty Lee’s nightmares, either some hellish monster or the tragic loss of a loved one.

Ty Lee broke into another alarming sob as her head bowed forward so her face was hidden in Mai’s arms. Mai held them steady, no matter how hard they tried to shake. “Ty Lee,” Mai said, something between a reprimand and consolation. Strangled gasps filled the room, and Mai could feel the rigidness of Ty Lee’s body under her arms. “You’ll feel better if you tell me,” Mai added, praying it was true. Mai eased her hold when Ty Lee sank to her knees and curled up into a ball. Her neck was bent forward, shielding her face from view.

Mai sat cross legged next to her and smoothed a hand across Ty Lee’s back. Helplessly, Mai whispered, “Ty, you’re scaring me.”

“You’ll think it’s stupid,” Ty Lee whimpered, muffled by her proximity to the ground.

“No, I won’t,” Mai maintained, attempting to disguise her hurt feelings. Ty Lee glanced up from the floor with a sniff. “Promise,” she added.

In one singular motion, Ty Lee unfolded her body and draped her head across Mai’s lap, arms clutching her waist. Mai was taken aback, and the violent blush on her cheeks was a clear indication of that.

Ty Lee stared up at her with her cheek pressed against Mai’s leg and quietly asked, “Is this...okay?” between gasps. Mai stared at her, dumbfounded. “Can you...Can you…”

“I can,” Mai agreed numbly, the assurance for her benefit as much as Ty Lee’s. Finally, Mai moved her stunned hands to smooth over Ty Lee’s disheveled braid. “Turn your head,” she said softly as she straightened her legs flat in front of her. Ty Lee shifted onto her other side, her arms left to rest on Mai’s knees.

“I can fix it,” Mai rasped, and Ty Lee’s breathing stabilized as she tilted her head toward her. Mai nodded, again unsure of which one of them she was trying to encourage.

“Okay,” Ty Lee breathed, resting her head.

“Okay,” Mai repeated. She unfastened the braid, and it stayed in place. Mai tugged experimentally at one of the crosses, but it was tangled. She sighed. “It might take awhile, but I’ll fix it.”

Mai wrapped one hand around the base of Ty Lee’s braid, and the other began work on the knot at the center. “Ouch,” Ty Lee gasped almost inaudibly, coupled with the intensified grip of her hands on Mai’s knees.

“Sorry,” Mai muttered. “It’s really bad this time.”

Ty Lee sighed, “Yeah,” with a resigned sniff.

“Talking helps, gets your mind off it.”

“It’s just hard.”

“What is?”

“Telling you,” Ty Lee stuttered, and Mai felt the tears begin to fall against her skin.

“Well,” Mai said automatically, expecting a retort to come, but instead her hands stopped. “Why?” It sounded wounded, even to her. Ty Lee cried harder, leaning in further to Mai’s legs. Her stomach lurched.

“Because it was about you,” Ty Lee sobbed.

“Me?” It felt like it echoed through the room, through her head.

After a few pained breaths, Ty Lee continued, “You were there, in my room. You told me we had to leave, that something bad happened. I don’t know what, but…” Ty Lee struggled to breathe, and Mai abandoned the braid to hold her head in place gently. Ty Lee’s hands clutched Mai’s wrists. “Your aura was red.”

“That’s...serious, right?”

Mai hoped Ty Lee would lecture her on the severity of a red aura, but instead she absentmindedly replied, “Yeah. I tried to get out of bed but something was holding me back. You turned and walked out, but I just kept getting further away.” Mai’s thumb caressed her cheekbone, pressing the tears into her skin.

“I was suffocating,” Ty Lee whimpered. “I tried to scream but nothing happened. I tried to tell you I was in danger, but you were gone.” She shuddered out the last words in a depraved way that made tears sting Mai’s eyes.

“I’m here,” Mai insisted with an edge of defensiveness. “It was just a dream.”

“When I woke up, I couldn’t tell if it really happened or not.”

“I’d never do that.” I’d never leave you. “You know that, right?” Ty Lee gave Mai’s wrists a reassuring squeeze.

“I know. It was just so realistic. I was scared I’d come here and you wouldn’t be in your bed, but you were. I was relieved, but I felt so...silly.” Ty Lee looked away from Mai’s face to the ceiling with a blush.

“You shouldn’t,” Mai coaxed, tilting Ty Lee’s head to continue detangling her hair. “It sounds like it was bad.” Ty Lee sighed and nodded as Mai worked through a particularly tight knot. “And...I didn’t say why we had to leave?” Mai asked curiously, figuring there had to be another reason why the idea of Mai leaving made Ty Lee so distraught.

Ty Lee considered it carefully. “I think you mentioned something about Azula,” she answered slowly. Mai ran her fingers through the newly smooth section of Ty Lee’s hair and grimaced. Of course it was Azula. Mai hummed stiffly, and Ty Lee said nothing else about it, either.

Mai successfully worked through the biggest tangles, and noticed how much she had improved at unraveling Ty Lee’s hair in a short amount of time. With a few more brushes of her fingers, she was done. She released Ty Lee’s hair completely, and it fell into Mai’s lap.

Though Mai knew it might destroy her small amount of triumph, she asked, “Do you ever wish Azula did this for you?” The numbness in her legs began to spread throughout her body with the ensuing silence.

“No,” Ty Lee replied finally, but her voice caught in her throat. To Mai’s confusion, Ty Lee sounded apologetic when she asked, “Do you?”

“No,” Mai insisted. “That’s not what I…Well, surely you’ve asked her before, right? And she said no?” It was the obvious conclusion Mai had assumed was true the first night Ty Lee appeared at the foot of her bed, that she had been rejected by Azula when she asked for her comfort.

Ty Lee sat up unexpectedly and crossed her legs. She stared at Mai intently with furrowed brows, like Mai said something crazy. Mai was overwhelmed by both Ty Lee’s intense expression and her wavy, long hair cascading down her back. “I never asked her,” she said in an equally inquisitive tone.

“Oh,” Mai breathed, and instant regret hit her. “I— Sorry,” she stuttered, and Ty Lee shook her head.

“It’s okay. I just never even thought of asking her. Azula would probably laugh at me and say something mean, but you…” Ty Lee trailed off as her fingers skirted their way to the back of Mai’s neck. “You’re the only one who’s really nice to me.” Mai exhaled and watched as tears began to fall once again. “I know it annoys you when I show up here like this,” Ty Lee whispered, then bit her lip.

Mai pulled her into a hug and Ty Lee shifted onto her knees. Though she relaxed into the embrace, Ty Lee was sobbing again. “It doesn’t. Not really,” Mai admitted into the wall of Ty Lee’s hair. She pulled her knees upward, and when Ty Lee reclined backward to look at Mai, her knees supported her back. Though tears were still streaming, her eyes were hopeful.

“Really?”

“Really,” Mai reiterated. She took a breath and chose her words carefully. “Ty Lee, is there something you’re not telling me about the dream? Another reason why you’re so upset?” Ty Lee’s slight smile vanished.

“Well…” She looked away nervously, then, “With the break coming up and both of us visiting home, what am I gonna do without you? When the nightmares are bad?”

Mai’s lungs felt like they’d been pierced with swords as she opened her mouth and no words came. She closed her eyes for a moment, then made a swift turn to scoot onto the rug under the window. Mai motioned for Ty Lee to follow and she huddled close to her. Mai drew the curtain and illuminated the room with moonlight, and snuck a glance at Ty Lee’s tear-stricken face. It looked blue.

Mai pointed at the moon, full and glistening amongst the stars. Ty Lee’s gaze fixated on it as she reached up to cross her arms on the windowsill and rest her chin there. Mai followed her, if only to get a closer look at her eyes. “You look out your window,” Mai instructed simply. “I’ll always be under the same moon.”

Ty Lee blinked a few more tears, then her glassy eyes were on Mai. Mai wiped a few away and tucked Ty Lee’s hair behind her ears. She allowed one hand to linger at Ty Lee’s elbow. “The break’s not that long. Write them down, and you can tell me when we’re back.” Ty Lee smiled fondly, prompting Mai to continue, “Just…Just imagine what I’d say. It won’t be that different.” She went red when Ty Lee laughed and shook her head.

“It’s not the same,” Ty Lee said sadly. “Thank you. That’ll help, but what I really need is…” Ty Lee took a few stabilizing breaths, then leaned forward to settle her cheek against Mai’s hand. “You. You calm me down, y-you help me.” She pointedly avoided Mai’s eyes with a bittersweet smile. Ty Lee shuddered out a breath. “I know you didn’t ask to take care of me— What are you doing?”

Mai wasn’t so sure herself.

She had drifted forward into the space that fit Ty Lee’s neck with one hand braced on the windowsill, the other on Ty Lee’s shoulder blade. Mai’s eyes were almost closed, her lips a fraction away from touching Ty Lee’s cheekbone. “I hate when you cry,” Mai whispered. With an uneven breath, Mai kissed just below Ty Lee’s eye, where the tears fell. It was hesitant, almost still. When Mai pulled away, she pursed her damp lips. She studied Ty Lee, her quick intakes of breath, her closed eyes, still producing tears.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have—” Mai began to groan, but was interrupted by expansive gray eyes suddenly opening and finding her own.

“No,” Ty Lee gasped, high-pitched and hushed. “Can you…do it again?”

With a shaky exhale, Mai said, “Really?” and tried not to sound eager. Ty Lee nodded profusely and angled her elbow on the windowsill so she could rest her head against her arm.

“No one’s ever done that before,” Ty Lee mumbled, and Mai noticed the neediness in her eyes.

“Oh,” Mai replied softly, and prayed her burning cheeks were disguised by the moonlight. “Well, I’ve never done that before.”

“You don’t have to,” Ty Lee maintained.

“No,” Mai whispered and tucked a wandering strand of hair behind Ty Lee’s ear, “I will. Stay still,” she commanded quietly. Mai held her face steady in both hands as Ty Lee closed her eyes.

Mai cautiously kissed lower on her cheek, terrified Ty Lee might take it back, and even more terrified she might not. Ty Lee breathed deeper, more relaxed. You can do this, Mai told herself as she kissed her again, this time on the other side of her face. She trailed them down Ty Lee’s face, each one more confident than the last.

When she kissed the space close to Ty Lee’s lips, Mai halted. She pulled away as tears pricked her eyes, then fell rapidly. Before she could wipe them away, Ty Lee was looking at her with concern. “Hey,” she whispered, shifting to grab Mai’s shoulders. “Why are you crying?”

“I don’t know,” Mai shuddered as her shaky fingers attempted to remove the tears. “I don’t know,” she repeated, looking at the floor.

“Mai,” Ty Lee consoled, sounding heartbroken. She hugged Mai around her shoulders, and though her impulses told her not to, Mai welcomed the embrace by resting her head on Ty Lee’s collarbone. Ty Lee sighed and ran a hand through Mai’s hair. “I’ve never seen you cry before.”

“Don’t get used to it,” Mai grumbled, but held Ty Lee tighter.

“Let’s lay down,” Ty Lee suggested, ignoring Mai’s irritation. Without breaking their hold, Ty Lee lowered them both onto the rug. Mai burrowed further into her, and against her will, the tears still fell, accompanied by distressed gasps. “Everything’s okay,” Ty Lee said to the top of Mai's head.

Though it clearly was not okay, Mai nodded, and her forehead brushed against Ty Lee’s neck. Ty Lee caught her chin between her thumb and index finger. Mai stopped breathing as Ty Lee’s hand guided her head to the floor. Her eyes remained closed, too timid to open, until Ty Lee traced her fingers along Mai’s cheekbone.

“Why are you sad?”

Mai considered the question for a long while, and inwardly decided she was crying for a multitude of reasons. Their midnight meetings had never extended past half-asleep hugging, but there Mai was, kissing Ty Lee's cheeks and crying directly after on her scratchy rug in the lowlight. Waves of incapacitating loneliness and unprepared vulnerability struck Mai. Then, came the realization that they would be away from each other for months when the break began, a thought that laid dormant in her mind until Ty Lee mentioned it. She grew accustomed to falling asleep next to Ty Lee however many nights a week, and there was already an ache forming under her skin.

Mai decided on, “Like I said, I’ve never done this before,” which was enough of the truth but certainly not its entirety. This, kissing the tears away from someone’s face. This, being held by someone, anyone, but especially Ty Lee. This, acknowledging the feelings Mai kept so carefully wrapped as far into herself as she possibly could.

This, steadily unraveling.

Mai’s hand ambled in front of her face, palm flat against the rug. She chose to focus on her fingers, her shallow breath, the wind howling outside the window, instead of the harsh quiet between them. Then, Ty Lee’s hand was over Mai’s, interlacing her fingers around Mai’s outstretched ones, her palm squeezing the back of Mai’s hand. Mai sighed when her sight blurred once again. She curled her fingers inward, returning Ty Lee’s grip.

“Let me help you, like you help me,” Ty Lee said softly, her shadowed face earnest. Mai’s heart drummed against her ribs. Her lips parted, but an answer did not come. “I can take these out,” Ty Lee offered eventually as her free hand smoothed over one of the buns in Mai’s hair.

Mai turned to the opposite side in response, begrudgingly separating their interlaced fingers. Ty Lee locked one arm around Mai’s shoulder and tucked it safely beneath her chin. Mai cursed the tears that soaked into Ty Lee’s sleeve. Ty Lee first brushed through the undone section of Mai’s hair with her other hand. She scratched at Mai's scalp gently, and it left her admittedly comforted.

She tugged the first bun free and it fell easily in one fluid motion. Ty Lee breathed a funny sound, and Mai imagined what sort of expression accompanied it. Mai tilted her head farther into the rug to allow Ty Lee to release the final bun, and it joined the rest of her hair, again free of tangles.

“It’s so pretty,” Ty Lee gasped in wonder. She let go of her hold around Mai to brush both hands through the length of her hair. “Perfect,” she whispered, and Mai cocked her head toward Ty Lee. She propped her head up in her palm, her elbow braced against the ground.

Mai dared to angle herself onto her back and stare up into Ty Lee’s mystifying eyes. Ty Lee was studying her intently, and it made Mai’s skin crawl in an all-too-familiar way. Ty Lee’s thumb danced across Mai’s cheekbone, and when she blinked, more tears rolled down her temples. Ty Lee moved her finger directly where they fell.

“Can I kiss you, too?” Ty Lee asked as her lips hovered over Mai’s cheek. Loose strands of dark honey hair tickled Mai’s shoulder. It felt like a fever spiking, the air in the room too humid, the very limited space between them still restrictive.

“Just once,” Mai croaked, her voice gravelly. She was at least trying to be smart; if she had any chance of calming down, it would have been destroyed by anything more than one kiss (and, if she was really being honest with herself, one kiss was enough to break her). Ty Lee nodded in easy compliance, as if she expected Mai to be conditional.

Ty Lee’s eyes drifted closed. Mai meticulously left her's open. She memorized the even breath through Ty Lee’s nose against her skin. Then, her lips, soft and unmoving on the apple of Mai’s cheek. Ty Lee puckered them and kissed her even slower. It seemed to last forever, and Mai wished it had, but eventually Ty Lee’s mouth broke away as her forehead fell to Mai’s temple.

“Thank you,” Ty Lee whispered, and Mai laughed, a choked, bitter sound.

“For what?” she gasped, and wiped the tears away from her face only for them to be readily replaced.

Ty Lee grabbed Mai’s shaking hands and gripped them steady. “Letting me,” she replied simply, and Mai dared to squeeze back. Mai blinked a few times, and against all intention, her face contorted into a sob. She twisted back onto the other side and hid her face in her arm, her knees curled inward.

Ty Lee’s fingers rubbed her shoulders while Mai weeped as quietly as she could. “Mai, I’m sorry,” she murmured after a long while. Mai only cried harder, the tears endless. With a deep exhale, Ty Lee laid beside her and locked a tentative arm around her shoulder. “Is this okay?”

Mai nodded immediately. Ty Lee relaxed against the rug, and Mai allowed a hand to fall and rest against Ty Lee’s arm. Her cries graduated to a steady stream of tears, thankfully. When Ty Lee began humming, Mai’s eyes drifted shut. She had to admit, it was incredibly calming, even when her stomach was still reeling.

Mai was alert when she felt Ty Lee’s hand move to her head. “Okay?” Ty Lee asked, then pressed the pads of her fingers into Mai’s scalp. Mai nodded much slower than before, and Ty Lee’s fingers were gently caressing her head.

Mai’s breathing level began to reach equilibrium. The gentle tune hummed in her ear and the comforting, blissful touch of Ty Lee’s fingers felt like a good dream. When the lines of reality started to blur, Mai’s eyes fluttered open.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Ty Lee sighed, and Mai could hear the smile in her voice as she replied, “You’re welcome.”

With that, Mai’s eyes closed once more. Ty Lee’s hand was a lullaby, her voice gently rocking as Mai as if they were adrift at sea. At the threshold of consciousness, a soft dreamland invited her. With one more bittersweet recognition of reality, Mai floated into a dream.

[youare-mysonshine]

gangsta || oscar diaz

Summary: one of the santos doesn't realize that the reader is oscar's girlfriend and shoves her in front of him. Requested: yes. "could you do a story of someone in the santos yelling at "y/n" and/or shoving her in front of Oscar and how he reacts? if so, thank you!!" Pairing: oscar diaz x reader Warnings: cussing, drinking, violence. Word Count: 2.9k A/N: SHE'S BACK! I took a break from writing because I wasn't feeling it. I lost my groove for a bit, i just didn't have the motivation but I'm slowly getting back into it again. I've missed you all, I've missed writing and I've missed Oscar lmao. the season 3 release date has me hyped as fuck and i couldn't leave you all hanging any longer. this isn't my best work, i'm a bit rusty so pls be nice lmao but HERE WE GO! Send me an ask if any of you wanna be tagged in future work of mine!

________________ "you coming?" oscar's deep voice came out through the speaker on y/n's phone, which sat on her dresser as she finished getting ready, swiping one last touch of lip gloss on her plump lips before putting it back in her make up bag. she looked at herself in the mirror, running her finger through her y/c/h hair. "si, i'm just waiting for angelica to get here. so impatient. i'll be there soon baby." her lips curved up in a tiny smirk as she heard her boyfriend let out a little scoff at her words. she and oscar had been dating for nearly a year now - they had met each other at a party and immediately hit it off. people had warned her to stay away from spooky, that he was no good, nothing but trouble - and sure, she initially had her reservations about dating him given his lifestyle, but she couldn't deny her feelings for him the more time they spent together. their relationship was passionate, intense, fiery. people had doubted that they'd last but there they were, proving everyone wrong. that didn't mean their relationship was always great - they had fights, disagreements. she hadn't agreed with his treatment of cesar, kicking him out and essentially leaving him homeless, but she realized it really was out of his control. "yeah alright. i'll see you mamas." just then, she heard a honk come from outside her home. angelica was there. saying she'd see oscar soon, she ended the call and made her way out of her home, locking the front door behind her and walking over to the car parked beside the sidewalk. inside was her friend angelica and all her friends - she and angelica went to school together and stayed in touch even after they both graduated. it was y/n that had invited angelica to the little party that the santos were throwing. getting in the car, the young female greeted angelica and her friends and with that, they were off, driving down the familiar streets of freeridge to the party. "so you and spooky are still together, huh?" one of angelica's friends, mariana, questioned. at the mention of her boyfriend, the y/h/c haired beauty felt a smile tug at her glossy lips. it was an instant reaction at this point. "oh yeah she is. look at her, she's blushing!" one of her other friends, yesenia, remarked, a wide, amused grin on her face. y/n rolled her eyes, but wore a smile on her face nonetheless. "ay ya cayense. yeah we're still together. it's gonna be a year soon." she told them. "a whole year. and some people thought we wouldn't make it past a month." "so i'm guessing you're not gonna need a ride home after the party?" "oh girl you already know what she's gonna be riding after the party. tu ya sabes." ____ the drive lasted only about a few more minutes before they finally arrived at their destination. mariana parked the car in front of the car and all four ladies climbed out. y/n immediately spotted her boyfriend's cherry red car and she got excited, wanting nothing more than to just see him already. together, all four ladies walked side by side down the driveway of the house and into the backyard where the party was just barely getting started. the sun was still out and the backyard wasn't as full as she knew it would become. she knew once the moon was out, that's when shit would get cracking. y/n's y/e/c eyes scanned the group of santos for her own santo until she finally saw him. he had just turned and walked away from who she recognized to be ruby and his older brother mario. mario who just so happened to be angelica's ex boyfriend. but that went to the very back of her mind when oscar's dark eyes landed on her, when a smile pulled at his lips and showed off those dimples she loved so much. her feet moved on autopilot, carrying her toward her tall boyfriend until both of them were standing in front of each other. "hey mamas." he greeted. he leaned down ever so slightly, hands on her hips, pulling her body flush against his muscular one. the butterflies in her stomach were going wild and she wasn't ashamed to admit that oscar always had that effect on her. "hey papito." she leaned up as he leaned down and finally closed the space between them, their lips meeting in a kiss that took her breath away. in the midst of their lip locking session, y/n felt oscar's large hand sliding away from her hip, moving to her back and down to her ass, giving it a firm squeeze. she let out a small gasp followed a breathless laugh against his lips, resulting in a smile pulling at his lips. both of them pulled apart, her hands resting on his chest and his hand still holding onto her hand, meanwhile the other was on her hip. "you look good." he commented, glancing down at her body. y/n smiled, removing one hand from his chest and lifting it up to his face. with her thumb, she wiped away from of the shiny residue of her lip gloss from his lips, knowing for sure that her own lips were now smudged with the clear gloss. "you don't look so bad yourself baby. thanks." she snatched the beer right from his hand and took a drink from it, giving him an innocent look. "damn, so you just gonna come up in here and take my drink?" he asked, face hardening, though she could see the humor shining in his eyes. he wasn't serious and she knew that. one thing that she loved about their relationship was the different sides she saw to oscar - she saw his vulnerable side, the side no one really saw, and his goofy and silly side. sure, oscar was a serious man but with her it was as if he was comfortable enough to be what he couldn't be in front of everyone else. "mhm. what's mine is mine and what's yours is also mine." she took a drink from the beer to drive her point home, laughing after she had swallowed the alcohol, laughing because oscar gave her ass a soft smack. "alright smart ass. let's go get another beer since you wanna be taking mine." with oscar's arm now wrapped around her, they walked toward the cooler, y/n greeting the santos that she was familiar with. most of the people that were there already knew her or had heard of her - it wasn't a secret that spooky had a girlfriend. "so, mario is here. angelica is here - that's not gonna end well, you know." she commented, glancing over to her clueless friend who had absolutely no idea her ex-boyfriend was at the same party with his little brother. mario on the other hand had seemed to notice angelica and was doing everything in his power to avoid being seen by her. "shit, that ain't my problem. i was just trying to help little man out." ____ the sun had gone down and now the moon (along with some lights) was illuminating the party which was in full swing. there was a dj booth set up, more people now occupied the backyard. music was playing, people were drinking, playing beer pong and having fun. y/n was among them - oscar was standing a few feet away with his homies while she stood with some of her own friends, some of them were also girlfriend's of santos. the young female held a drink in her hand, her body slightly swaying to the music that was playing loud through the speakers, a smile on her face as she listened to one of the other girls animatedly tell a story about the time her boyfriend got shit faced drunk. it all happened so quick. one moment y/n was laughing, tipping her head back, and the next her shoulder was accidentally being pushed by someone walking by her. it wasn't hard enough to hurt but it was hard enough for her to lose her balance and trip on her own feet. she crashed into a body beside her own, her drink spilling down their shirt and regret and embarrassment immediately took hold of her entire being. "shit! shit, i am so fucking sorry!" she apologized profusely. it was a guy she had crashed into - she recognized him as someone who had recently been initiated into the santos. she thought she had heard some of the guys refer to him as carlos. his eyes were on her and he looked anything but happy. his nostrils were flaring and his eyes held anger. surely he understood that it had been an accident right? "i can get you some napkins-" "you dumb bitch! watch where the fuck you're going!" before y/n could even react or have time to process what was happening, she felt her body being shoved backwards roughly, the air leaving her lungs for a brief second. she collided with the cold hard ground rather harshly, her palms breaking her fall - she could already feel the sting of the scrapes she was sure that she had. her ass hurt too from the sheer force in which she had fallen. she could feel the tears stinging at her eyes but she refused to cry, not in front of all these people who now had their eyes on the scene which was unfolding. "you stupid hyna. that'll teach you to watch where-" he never got the chance to finish what he was saying because a fist collided with his face and sent him falling to the ground similarly to y/n. it was oscar and he held nothing back as he leaned over carlos and began punching the absolute shit out of him, anger radiating from every inch of his body.

oscar hadn't seen what had led up to her getting shoved to the ground, but he had seen carlos laying his hands on her and pushing her to the ground and he saw red. nothing but red. he was protective over those he loved and cared about and there was no exception when it came to y/n. he wasn't about to let some pinche desgraciado disrespect his lady like that, he wasn't about to let him get away with putting his hands on her and pushing her to the ground.

all anyone could do was stare as oscar, who no doubt was now spooky, lay into carlos' bloody face, face contorted in anger. people knew better than to try and stop an angry oscar. "you fucking put your hands on my girl? huh?!" y/n had seen oscar get mad before, but she had never seen him get that mad. she had never seen him become that enraged. and while it was certainly a frightening sight, she couldn't help the way that it made her feel - he was defending her. "i should fucking kill you for laying a hand on her puto. i should fucking kill you!" meanwhile carlos was whimpering beneath oscar that he hadn't known she was his girlfriend and that he was sorry. that was when y/n sprang into action, pushing herself up and ignoring the sting she felt in her palms. she knew that if she didn't stop oscar, or at least try to, he'd definitely kill carlos. she knew what that tear drop tattoo meant, but that certainly wasn't how she wanted the night to end. "oscar! oscar baby, stop. stop!" she looked over at two santos and gestured for them to stop oscar and they did as told, each of them grabbing oscar by the arms and pulling the tall man away from the now bloodied carlos. he gave a wheeze, spitting out some blood, turning on his side and curling in on himself from the pain. oscar shoved the two santos off of him and leaned down, harshly pulling up the bloodied man by the collar of his shirt, getting in his face, lips curled like a rabid dog ready to bite. oscar was certainly ready to strike again, the only person stopping him was y/n and his need to make sure she was okay. "you're gonna apologize to her. and then you're gonna fucking leave. i don't wanna see you because if i see you, i'm gonna fuck you up again. don't ever put your hands on my lady again. that goes for everybody here!" his voice boomed, eyes looking around at the crowd that had gathered around the scandalous scene. "if any of you ever put your hands on y/n, it'll end the same way it did for this puto desgraciado." he spat. then his focus was back on carlos, shoving him in the direction of y/n, who was gently rubbing at her palms. "you're fucking lucky i didn't kill you. apologize. now." carlos, genuinely fearful, looked at y/n as best as he could with one of his eyes already closing shut. "i-i'm.. i-i'm sorry.. i'm r-really.. sorry.." each word he spoke seemed to be painful for him to get out. but y/n didn't care. all she was focused on was oscar. after the apology, oscar shoved carlos in the direction of the driveway, everyone watching as he stumbled off by himself. the crowd dispersed, chatter now erupting all over the backyard once more, everyone no doubt discussing what had just happened. everyone knew to give oscar space, leave him be because he was still seething with anger. but while everyone moved away from the angry santo, y/n moved closer to him, gently reaching for his hand that was bloody. she couldn't tell if it was his blood or carlos' blood. "os.." she spoke softly. his eyes met her own and they softened ever so slightly before he looked away, looking anywhere but her. she sighed, pulling him along with her inside the house. with his hand in hers, she walked them inside the bathroom, shutting the door behind her. the young female put the toilet lid down and sat him down on it. she grabbed a towel and wet it with some water before reaching for his hand, wiping away the blood. the white towel became red, and she realized all the blood was from carlos' face. oscar suddenly reached out and stopped her actions. her took the towel from her hands and turned them around so her palms were facing him. they were scraped up and some little pebbles from the ground had embedded themselves in her skin. it wasn't bad but it certainly stung, especially now that the adrenaline she had felt earlier was starting to die down. oscar gave a deep sigh, bringing her hands up to his lips and pressing a kiss against her skin. "i'm sorry, mamas." he still wouldn't look at her. "i'm sorry this shit happened to you. lo siento. i never wanted you to see me like that." it made sense to her now. oscar was ashamed of y/n seeing him like that, seeing him lose control and beat someone to a bloody pulp. he had never wanted her to see that side of him - she knew being with oscar wasn't gonna be a fairy-tale, she knew what his lifestyle was like and what he did, who he was. but she loved him regardless. "oscar, hey. look at me." she spoke in a soft voice. "look at me." she removed her hands from his large ones and placed them on his cheeks, getting him to finally look at her. her eyes fell on the teardrop tattoo resting below his eye, and her thumb smoothed over the black ink, then their eyes met once more. the dark eyes she loved so much stared deep into her own and it was like she was swimming in pools of chocolate. "you don't have to be sorry. what happened, it was fucked up but i'm fine, alright? really. it's just a few scrapes. nothing bad. and.. i'll admit, seeing you like that.. it definitely took me by surprise." she admitted. oscar's jaw clenched, and he tried turning his head but she wouldn't let him. "it took me by surprise but it also made me realize how safe i am with you. i remember when we first got together, you told me that being with you was dangerous but.. you protect me better than anyone. don't be ashamed, not with me. i know you, os. and i love you." he perked up at those words, the shame leaving his eyes, being replaced with something else entirely. for a few seconds he was silent, but his hands slipped around her waist and tugged her forward. he rested his forehead on her stomach, shutting his eyes. "i love you too preciosa. i'd do anything for you. anything." when oscar looked back up at her, eyes shining with an emotion he rarely showed around anyone else, she leaned down, capturing his lips in a kiss. his lips that were spewing nothing but hate at carlos were now moving soft against her own. "you know.." y/n murmured softly against his lips, pulling away slightly. she rested her forehead against his own, their lips still brushing together. "it was actually kinda hot seeing you like that.. seeing you defend me like you did.." oscar's lips curled up into a smirk, his hands now sliding down to her ass where he grabbed two handfuls, fingers lightly digging into her ample, clothed flesh. "oh yeah? how about we get outta here, baby girl? you can, uh, repay me for defending you.." "yeah alright. i do need a ride."

[softyoongiionly]

🧊lo-fi hip hop🧊

You have a terrible day and, Yoongi comes to the rescue.

In more ways than one...

Genre: Fluff, Smut (18+ only plz)

Word Count:

Warnings: a wee bit of angst but, not a TON, Yoongi :o), smut and explicit language.

A/N: Hiiiiii I missed you I love you please enjoy! This is unedited for now.

Also, yes this is technically a FnD drabble but, it can be read as a stand alone. HOWWeevvverrr if you want to read the fic this belongs to, 

subscribe here x

You are having the worst day. 

Like, the kind of day where you stub your pinky toe on the corner of the table, spill your coffee all over yourself and, miss your train to class kind of day. 

It’s the kind of day where all you want to do is crawl beneath the covers and, cry for approximately 18 hours straight. 

Just the girly things. 

But given the fact that you’re 3 weeks away from graduation and, you can’t do that.   

You catch a taxi to your classes, walk off the soreness in your foot and, change out of your coffee stained shirt. 

The day drags on endlessly and, you feel yourself getting overwhelmed at things that would normally roll off your shoulders. 

On the subway ride home, you’re practically holding back tears as you try to reign in all the emotions you’re dealing with.  

You could call Jimin. 

You know he’d be here for you in a heartbeat. 

You could text your two other best friends and, you know that they’d cheer you up with various memes and tik toks. 

But, there is only one person you want to call.  

There is only one person, in this moment, who’d be able to put a proper smile on your face.   

Yoongi.  

The only problem is: your boyfriend is also dealing with his own mountain of stress.   

He’s been in the studio since Monday mastering his final project.   

You’ve barely heard from him. 

You haven’t seen each other since the day after Jimin’s showcase and, that was nearly a week ago.  

You miss him.   

A lot. 

Yoongi has a way of making everything smaller.   

He takes life in piece by piece and, with a perspective that is so uniquely him, he seems to know the right thing to do. 

It’s almost as if it’s instinctual.  

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t need him right now.  

You needed his gentle words of encouragement, the lullaby of his voice, the tenderness behind his touch…  

There is a bit of embarrassment that washes over you. 

You’ve never been the one to need anyone.  

You value the people in your life of course but, you’ve never felt like this before.  

Sitting on your couch, there is strong battle waging inside your head.   

To call or not to call.   

He is your boyfriend so, you know he’d be there for you.   

But you don’t want to bother him.  

You know how much stress his under and, you don’t want to add to that.   

But fuck, today is rough.   

Sometimes you just need your mans.   

You decide to bite the bullet and call him.   

The persistent ringing on the other end of the line is causing a bit of anxiety to knock against your chest. 

What if he’s too busy?   

What if he thinks you’re being dramatic?   

You know these concerns are unreasonable; Yoongi is the kindest person alive. 

But, there is still a level of apprehension regarding asking others for help. 

“Hey, I’m sorry I haven’t texted back today, I should be almost done.” 

His voice soothes you immediately. 

“Uh no- no it’s ok. I just um…” You trail off, trying to contain the instability in your voice but you’re too late. 

He’s already heard it. 

“Yah is everything good? Are you alright?” 

“Y-yeah I just- I just wanted to check in.” 

“You don’t sound alright. What’s going on jagi?” 

His concern chisels away at the bit of resolve you have left and, rather than lie to him, you decide to be honest. 

“I’m just not having a good day and-“ Your voice breaks and Yoongi can feel his chest clenching at the sound, “I just wanted to say hi.” 

“Are you home right now?”  

You nod despite his inability to see you, “Yeah I just got in. I’m sorry to bother you in the studio-“  

“Hey you’re never bothering me, don’t worry about that. Are you up for seeing anyone or do you just want to talk?” 

Yoongi is amazing this way. 

He never assumes. 

He always asks what you’re comfortable with. 

He knows that there are times when sadness is left alone and, there are times when sadness needs a visitor. 

“I don’t want to interrupt you in the studio. I just miss you…” 

Yoongi bites his lip on the other end of the line. 

He wishes you knew how important you were to him. 

He wishes you knew that he’d drop anything for you.  

“I’ll come over ok? I miss you too. It’s been a long week huh?” 

You want to protest, you really do… 

The sound of his voice is too much to resist though and, you find yourself resigning to his plans to come see you. 

“Yeah it has. Are you sure you can? I don’t want to stop you from working.” 

Yoongi can hear the tension in your voice and, right now all he wants to do is bring the light back into it. 

“You are more important than anything I’m doing here.” You can already hear him grabbing his things and, for the first time today you feel a smile coming across your face, “I’ll bring dinner too, are you craving anything?”  

Jesus, you really love this man.  

“Dumplings.”  

Your reply is paired with a light giggle and, Yoongi’s rickety laughter continues the process of lightening your mood. 

“Why did I even ask? Alright, I’ll grab those and then I’ll be right there ok?” 

“Ok, thank you…I love you.” 

The words are still so new between the two of you and, they cause a giant gummy smile to erupt on Yoongi’s face. 

“I love you too jagiya.” 

Just like that, with a few simple words, your bad day is suddenly much brighter. 

After changing into more comfortable clothes, you tidy up a bit around your apartment to prepare for Yoongi’s arrival. 

He doesn’t take long to get to you and, when there is a knock at your front door, you nearly trip as you run towards the sound. 

Yoongi is standing in the doorway with a takeout bag in his hand, looking like the most beautiful man on planet earth.  

He’s in a black v neck and, gray sweat pants and, his black hair is a fluffy mess atop his head suggesting that he had recently showered. 

He smiles at you with a knowing look in his eyes but, before he is able to stay anything, you wrap your arms around his waist and, bury your face in his chest. 

“Hi.” He murmurs, wrapping his free arm around you, kissing the top of your head. “Rough day hm?” 

All you do is nod, taking in the clean scent of his cologne. 

A fond smile is immediately on his lips as he too, is comforted by your presence.  

Yoongi makes his way into your apartment whilst he still holds onto you, setting the food on the counter so he can hug you properly.  

In his arms, you peek up at him and, one sight of his pouty lips is enough for you to kiss him.  

It’s the not kiss Yoongi expects as figured you’d be pretty emotional when he got to you but, the way you’re working his lips makes his knees weak. 

You didn’t expect it either but, you couldn’t help yourself. 

Sliding your hands up his back, you tangle your fingers into the loose strands at the base of his neck, your lips moving slightly more urgently against his. 

“Hey-“ Yoongi doesn’t want to stop you, he really doesn’t but, he wants to make sure you’re ok before you go any further. “Are you ok?” 

He smooths a thumb over your swollen lips, his eyes slightly lulled from the effect your kiss has on him, “What do you need?” 

His questions have multiple meanings and, you wish you had clearer answers for him but all you can muster is, “I need you.” 

A small smirk comes across his lips as he tilts your chin up towards him, “I’m right here jagi.” 

You nod and, move to kiss him again before he brings you to a gentle stop, placing a kiss on cheek, “Hey…lets slow down ok? I wanna make sure you’re alright before we do anything…”  

Now listen… 

The next thing you’re about to do is a little unreasonable. 

It’s a little ridiculous... 

It’s a little silly.  

But, you’re only human.  

For whatever reason, Yoongi wanting to hold off on sex makes the tears congregate back to your eyes. 

“Oh- Oh you’re right I’m sorry. I’m sorry I should have asked...” You sniffle, avoiding his gaze and, stepping away from him.  

The sting of embarrassment heats up your cheeks and, before he has a chance to say anything, you nod to the food on the counter, “Thank you uh- thank you for bringing the food. How much do I-?” The emotion squeezes at the tone of your voice until it’s clearly noticeable that you’re about to cry. 

“Whoa hey- hey…what’s wrong?” Yoongi rushes over to you, place his hands on your upper arms, “Jagi…look at me.” 

You’re frozen in the middle of your kitchen, your gaze fixed firmly on a chewed up hair-tie courtesy of Marzipan. 

“I’m ok.” You insist despite the tears filling your eye sockets, “I’m sorry I jumped on you like that.”  

“You have tears in your eyes, you’re not fine.” He remarks sagely, tilting his head to get you to look at him “Come here…”  

He pulls you back into his arms despite the stiffness in your body before he speaks up again, “Did you just apologize for kissing me?” 

“I just-“ You sniffle, your chest heaving with the onslaught of emotion, “I can’t do anything right. I spilled coffee all over myself this morning, I stubbed my toe, I missed my train, I kept getting questions wrong in the lecture, I am freaking out about this deadline this Tuesday and, then…and then…” You’re trying to speak through your tears but, it’s becoming a jumbled mess, “I can’t even turn my boyfriend on without making it weird and, I interrupted your studio time and, I’m just a mess-  I’m sorry.” 

Yoongi wants to tell you how wrong you are, he wants to slough away all of your tension but, for the moment, he lets you cry into his chest. 

He holds you in the middle of the kitchen floor, pressing kisses into your forehead as the two of you sway gently from side to side.  

“Let’s go lay down…” 

The tenderness in his voice is impossible to refuse and, all you can do is let him lead you to your bedroom, abandoning the food  on the countertop. 

Yoongi is an expert at reheating leftovers as he often forgets to finish all of his food. 

The covers are pulled back despite the fact that you’re still clinging to him but, he doesn’t miss a beat as he pulls you underneath your duvet, insuring that you don’t move far from him. 

“I got you, I hear you…” He whispers into the near darkness of your bedroom, his words punctuated with more kisses. 

“I’m sorry…”  

It’s a terrible habit of yours, to apologize when you’re sad, but it’s a habit none the less. 

“Stop apologizing, you didn’t do anything wrong. You’re just having a bad day baby…” 

Yoongi reserves terms of endearment for when he really means them. Sure, they slip out during heated sessions in the bedroom but, they always have a meaning and, they are never used as just another name to call you. 

“I’ve read your paper yeah? It’s full of so much passion and, research. They are going to want to publish it in an undergrad journal of some kind. You have so a way with words, it’s incredible. I know it’s easy to get swept up in the pressure and, that’s ok. Just try and remember that you’ve done your best and, that’s all you can do.” His hand combs through your hair gently, stopping at any snags along the way and, moving to a new spot as he continues, “You don’t ever have to be sorry for having a bad day. I’m not just around for the good days…” 

Shifting beneath your duvet, you peer up at him with a hopeless glance, “I just hate feeling this way, I feel weak.” 

Yoongi’s pretty mouth curves up into a fond smile as he brushes his thumb over your cheek, “You’re weak for having a bad day?” 

“I mean…no. I guess not, I just feel weak for-“ You cut yourself off as your teeth take their place on your bottom lip, “for feeling like I needed you. I knew that nothing else would have made me feel better and, I guess I’ve never been in that position before. It freaks me out a little bit.” 

Yoongi’s wise eyes follow along with your words, his smile lingering all the while, “Terrifying isn’t it?”  

You groan, burying your face into his neck, causing rickety laughter to leave his lips as he holds you tighter to his chest.  

“I…hate….feelings.” You grumble against his skin, placing a few timid kisses there. 

Yoongi continues laughing, his capable fingers brushing against the exposed skin on your back. 

“I felt the same way that night at my studio. I knew there was no one else I wanted to see.” Yoongi murmurs, the tone of his voice soothing you, “I hated that I was right. You made me feel so much better. I didn’t want you to leave the next day even though I was going to see you that night. Trust me, I understand how scary it can be to need someone but, I know for a fact you didn’t think I was weak for needing you that night. So, I don’t think you should apply different standards for yourself. That isn’t fair.” 

As expected, Yoongi provides the exact support you need. 

He’s right. 

There is no weakness in being vulnerable. 

There is no weakness in having a bad day.  

“You’re smart.” You note and, a smile breaks across your mouth as Yoongi laughs again. 

It’s one of your favorite sounds. 

“So are you.” He kisses the top of your head, his hands sliding down to your hips, squeezing at them gently, “it’s not always easy to see the good in yourself but, keep trying ok?” 

A response from you comes in the form of a nod whilst warmth flutters into your heart.  

It’s the kind of warmth only Yoongi can provide and, it makes you want to kiss him until the early hours of the morning.  

It’s a possibility right? 

You know he should probably go back to the studio after dinner. 

Yoongi maneuvers the two of you during your contemplation so that he’s in a position to connect his lips to yours. 

He’s so gentle. 

He kisses your bottom lip first, lingering for a moment before proceeding to your top lip.  

Yoongi’s hooded eyes remain partially open, staring into your own as he repeats the motions on your lips over and over again. 

You let him, enjoying the plushness of his mouth, enjoying the way he wets your lips.  

Finally though, it becomes too much and your hand reaches up to brush at the tender skin of his cheek before pulling him closer to you. 

Yoongi kisses you slowly, as he usually does but, you can feel the emotion behind it. 

The sun informs you of its dwindling position in the sky as the light in your room grows dimmer and dimmer.  

The traffic outside your window is a distant sound compared to the soft increase in breath coming from your boyfriend.  

“I love kissing you.” He whispers, suckling at your bottom lip. 

You smile into his mouth, reconnecting your lips fully before responding, “I love you.” 

His gums are out then, beaming brightly at your sudden proclamation. 

Yoongi swears he could listen to you saying those three words a million times and, he’d never get tired of it. 

“Don’t try to one up me…” He chuckles, the sound rumbling deep within his chest as he tilts your chin up towards him with one finger, “I love you too.” 

It’s your turn to grin now, your eyes likely staring up at him as if he were the greatest gift in the world. 

Because, you know, he is.  

“Is your appetite back? I can throw those dumplings on the stove really quick if you want.” He offers, his finger still hooked underneath your chin. 

Although it’s a tempting offer, it surprises you a bit and you can’t help but pout up at him. 

“Yah what’s that face for?”  

“We’ve been making out for like 10 minutes, how are you thinking about food right now?”  

Your tone isn’t accusatory as normally something like this wouldn’t phase you but, you’re a bit fragile today and, unfortunately your insecurities tend to pop out during times like these. 

Yoongi still remains endeared beneath your inquiry, a smirk at the corner of his mouth, “I’m thinking about your needs right now. If I was thinking about myself I’d probably be kissing my way up your thighs right now…” 

His answer is surprising and it’s enough to send arousal flooding to your core.  

You’re extra sensitive today and desperate for relief that you know Yoongi is more than capable of providing. 

“I don’t need food…” You grumble, trying to hide the way he affects you and, Yoongi is quick to kiss the pout of your lips, snickering as he does. 

“No? What do you need then?” 

You’re really receptive to his touch now as he slides his hands back down to your hips. 

He notices and, your reaction causes his dick to twitch in the confines of his sweats. 

“You…” You murmur against his lips, parting your legs subconsciously, “I know you probably have to go back soon but-“ 

With a furrowed brow, Yoongi moves from your lips, “Go back where?” 

“To the studio.” 

Yoongi shakes his head, pecking your lips twice in a row, “I’m not going anywhere. I told you, you’re important than anything in the studio.” 

Biting your lip, you nod, sliding your hands up his nimble arms and resting them on his shoulders, “Can you stay the night?” 

A soft smile is on his lips then, “Of course…” He whispers, before nodding to the pillows, “Now lay down for me…” 

As you’re settling back against the bed, Yoongi is up on his knees shifting so he can lay between your legs. 

Before he does though, he smirks shamelessly looking over his shoulder towards your window, “Alexa, play Yoongi’s lo-fi mix…” 

Your mouth parts in shock before a giggle rushes past your lips, “When did you have time to do that???” 

He chuckles as the music starts flooding in through the speakers, “I paired my phone with it when I set it up for you. It auto-connects whenever I come over…” 

You roll your eyes, giggling still, “I should have known- did you make a sex playlist?” 

He blushes at your accusation but, he doesn’t immediately deny it as he slowly parts your thighs, “Stop asking so many questions.” He smirks again as he hears your laughter, feeling warm at the sound of it, “Close your eyes…” 

As your giggling fades, you oblige and allowing your eyes to flutter shut. 

The low hum of the music fills you with a sense of relaxation despite the quickening of heartbeat. 

Yoongi runs his hands gently up your legs, parting them further as he allows his finger tips to tease against the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. 

His motions cause goosebumps to erupt beneath his touch and, he can’t help but smile to himself at your reaction.  

It’s satisfying to know he affects you this way. 

Although, Yoongi still believes it’s incomparable to the way you affect him. 

Silence settles between the two of you for the moment as the smooth ambience of the music dances around the room.  

Yoongi continues teasing over your skin; trace shapes over your hips, fluttering his fingers dangerously close to the ache between your legs but, he pulls away to push your t-shirt up your body, revealing your breasts to him.  

You can’t see his reaction to you but, you can hear him inhale shakily at the sight of you. 

“So beautiful...” He murmurs in Korean, the sound of his voice sending a shiver up your spine. 

A smile presents itself as you recognize the word, “You said beautiful...” 

Yoongi returns your smile at your pride, nodding as he brushes his fingers over your nipples. 

“Hmm so you have been studying...” He observes and, you can feel his breath against your skin as he leans down to press a kiss between your breasts. 

You nudge him with your knee, keeping your eyes shut despite your urge to look at him, “Shut up.” 

He snickers before placing lingering kisses down the length of your torso, nipping at the top of your belly button, smirking as you giggle. 

As he gets to the waistband of your shorts, you feel around and gently brush your hand against his cheek, “I didn’t shave...” 

Yoongi doesn’t falter but, he does take your fingertip between his lips, sucking on the end of it, “Good.” 

His response fuels something inside of you and, for whatever reason, it makes you wetter. 

Acceptance in all forms is sexy, what can you say? 

Yoongi continues his motions down the seam of your shorts, spreading warmth and pleasure as he does.  

He purses his lips, hovering over the fabric right above your clit before pushing against it with his mouth, rubbing back and forth.  

The movement is slow and deliberate but, it’s enough to cause your center to throb. 

Yoongi does this for a moment, before he licks up the length of your shorts. 

You say nothing as he teases you because, you know his intention isn’t to be cruel. 

Build-up can make or break a good orgasm. 

Yoongi finally tugs down your shorts and, at the sight between your legs, he feels himself growing uncomfortably hard. 

A deep breath is pulled through your nose as you feel his lips on you. 

He kisses at your lips before licking up one side of you, then the other... 

“Fuck, I’m hungry...” 

The bit of Korean is the last thing he utters before his tongue rubs over your clit. 

The sensation sends a jolt of pleasure to the base of your spine, an unstable breath leaving your lips. 

You don’t have time to decipher what he says because, he quickly gets to work on eating you out.  

Yoongi really is an artist between your thighs.  

He knows exactly where to lick, when to suck, when to rub... 

His quick but deliberate and, yet it feels like it lasts forever every time.  

You feel his lips kissing and licking at your clit before your hands tangle in his hair, urging him to go harder. 

And harder he goes... 

You can feel yourself growing closer to cumming so, with your eyes still closed, you trail your fingers over your breasts, allowing your fingertips to ghost over hardened nipples. 

Despite your lack of vision, you can assume Yoongi is watching you by the way he groans into your pussy. 

“I wish I could do that for you.” He whispers, lightly pressing a finger against your entrance, “But I need my hands for something else.” 

“Oh-” 

The sound is involuntary, the feeling of Yoongi curling a finger inside of you prompts it from you without warning. 

Yoongi can feel how close you are and, he knows it’s a matter of time before you come into his hand.  

“Does it feel good?” His voice is deep but, it’s heightening slightly to accommodate the way he coos at you; he really can’t help it. He loves seeing you like this. 

Your rapid nod fuels him to increase his speed, his tongue still working wonders on your clit. 

“Open your eyes, try and look at me jagi...” He urges, his tone growing reedier 

Of course you do as he asks and, immediately you find his gaze despite the intial haziness in your vision. 

He’s barely illuminated by the city lights streaming in through your curtains but, you can see the loving smile on his face, the arousal heavy in his eyes... 

“Are you gonna cum for me?” He whispers, pressing his fingers into your g-spot, creating a sinful amount of pleasure inside of you. 

“Yes- yoongi...” Your moan is cut off by silence as your orgasm rears it’s head, your back beginning to arch off the bed, “Fuck, I’m gonna cum. Yoongi-” 

He sighs hopelessly into your pussy, the sound of his name on your lips makes him weak, “Cum jagiya. You deserve it, cum for me...” 

It’s not long before you’re sitting up, ignoring the twinkling stars in your vision as you tug your boyfriend on top of you, finding his lips immediately.  

You love that you taste yourself on him and, you take your time to kiss him deeply, showing your appreciation for the work he did between your legs. 

“You came so much.” He whispers, nudging at your nose as he takes his position back against the pillows whilst pulling you with him, “You did so good...” 

Small words of encouragement mean a lot on a day where you aren’t feeling 100% and, they cause you to smile when you tuck your face into his neck. 

“I wanna make you feel good now.” You punctuate your declaration with a kiss behind Yoongi’s ear, “Can I?” 

Yoongi tilts his head to allow you better access to his neck, his hands tightening on your hips, “Please. I missed you.” 

You smile then, kissing at his sweet spot again before a request leaves your lips, “Can I give you a hickey?” 

This causes Yoongi to snicker, relishing in the juvenile nature of such a question but, he can’t deny that he likes it when you mark him. 

“Yeah...just one though.” He warns, knowing full well how decorated his neck would become if he gave you full reign, “I have a presentation in two days.” 

You don’t have control over the pout that forms on your lips, “Just one?”

Yoongi chuckles again and licks his lips before looking down at you, his brows rising in amusement, “On my neck yeah- there are other places to mark me.”

At this, you smirk, conceding with him as you secure your lips right at his sweet spot. A few kisses are placed against his neck before sucking his skin between your teeth.

Yoongi tenses up beneath you, his hands squeezing at the fabric of your shirt whilst his eyes flutter closed.

“Fuck.” He whispers, slightly breathless, “Bite harder…”

And you do by apply more force with your teeth, your free hand trailing down his stomach to palm him through his pants. His dick is pressing uncomfortably against the seam of his sweat pants, the gray material dampened with pre-cum.

“You’re so hard.” You giggle

With a loud sigh, Yoongi speaks again, his voice deepening slightly with the onslaught of arousal, “I just ate you out- what did you expect?”

With a satisfied smile, you lean back into his lips, indulging in him for a moment.

He smirks into your mouth, pulling you onto his body so you’re straddling his hips, “You wanna ride me?” Yoongi mutters whilst his hands rest on your ass.

You’re only in your t-shirt after all and, you’re now sitting on top of his hardened dick, it would only make sense to make him cum this way.

He pulls away momentarily, lips wet with spit, eyes lulled with desire, “I really want you to.” He whispers, kissing you again, batting his pretty eye lashes for you.

Biting your lip, you push his hair back away from his forehead, trying to cope with how hot he looks right now; slightly sweaty, disheveled, horny…

You want to fuck him so bad.

“Hold onto my hips and help me, I want to go at your pace…”

He smiles softly, nodding silently, heading turning toward the speaker, “Alexa- play Withdrawn by Mello…”

Your lips bubble over with laughter as a new song starts playing but, otherwise you don’t comment on it, instead opting to lean down and kiss him once more.  

Moments later, Yoongi’s eyes are rolling back as he feels you sink down on him, his fingertips pressing hard into the flesh of your hips.

“Ugh shit-“ He breathes and, with his neck fully exposed, you can admire the violet mark on the side of his throat, a sense of pride filling your gut as you do.

Yoongi’s hands guide you up and down his length, his eyes squeezing shut once again as the feeling of you begins to overwhelm.

With tender lips, you lean down, kissing up the side of his throat, ensuring that your hips keep their pace on him, “Does it feel good?” You whisper in his ear and, he’s quick to turn towards you to tuck his face into your neck.

“Y-Yeah…please don’t stop.”

You don’t.

You ride him all the way off the deep end, kissing each of his pretty features as he cums, telling him you love him as he’s coming down.

Your orgasm is a natural occurrence when he’s inside of you  but, it wasn’t your main focus.

Sex with Yoongi isn’t transactional.

There’s too much love for that.

You’re laying on Yoongi’s chest now, your fingertips tracing shapes over the skin on his ribs, admiring the instability in his heartbeat.

“I love this.” You murmur, turning slightly to press a kiss to his chest.

“My heart?” He smirks, combing a hand through your hair.

“Mhm- it’s my favorite.” Placing another kiss to his chest, you shoot him a pointed look, “If you say anything sarcastic regarding the fact that your heart is just an organ, I will fight you.

His body shakes with laughter but, he nods regardless, opting out of being a little shit.

“How are you feeling?”

You soften, resting your chin on his chest, “So much better. Thank you for coming over.”

He pinches your cheek, “I’m here for you anytime you need me. You know that right?”

Nodding, you kiss the hand against your face, “I do.”

“Good.” He nudges against your lips, his gums peeking out with smile on his mouth when you giggle. “I love you…”

With all the warmth in the world, you snuggle up to him and, he responds by tugging the blanket over the both of you.

“I love you too.”

[ssfghfrrggf]

In Your Arms part 2

the continuation of the fic for @adamruz , there might be a part 3 but i’ve got some other fic ideas that begging to be written first.

Her head is pounding when she finally comes to, and everything hurts like she’s been hit by a truck.

“Adam?” Kim chokes and opens her eyes, everything around her is a spinning blur of color and vague shapes that she can’t quite make out. She tries to lift her head off the hard ground, but she can’t seem to make her body do what she wants it to. It’s like she’s trapped in her body.

“Adam!” She cries louder. She can’t make him out anywhere in the dim room with her. The last thing she remembers is seeing him collapse on the pavement in front of her just as a needle got stabbed into her neck, but it’s all so fuzzy. She can’t remember why he collapsed, maybe he got drugged too.

“Sounds like she wants her partner,” a harsh voice says as a door opens, letting in a stream of blinding light that stabs at her eyes and makes her flinch in pain.

“What did you do to him?” she growls and manages to clamor upright to face the two men who have just come into the room. She knows their faces but can’t place names to them, she’s pretty sure they’re two of their suspects. “Where’s Adam?”

The two men glance at each other, and one of them laughs, it’s a harsh and bitter laugh that makes her blood run cold.

“I assume he’s still lying dead in that alley where we left him,” the taller of the two men says with an evil chuckle. His words hit her like a kick to the stomach, but she refuses to give these two animals the satisfaction of seeing her pain, so she forces back the lump of panic rising in her throat and the wave of grief trying to crash over her. Adam can’t be dead, she can’t lose him. 

“What did you do to him?” she chokes, glaring up at them, trying to focus her spinning vision. She can’t believe what they’ve just told her. She has to believe Adam is okay or she’ll never make it out of here. She has to fight to get back to him.

“You’re not the one asking questions here, honey,” one of the men says and crouches down in front of her. “We need the name of the guy you were talking to.”

She spits in his face. “Go to hell.”

Her harsh remark is met with a hard slap to the face that knocks her to the ground and makes her face sting until tears into her eyes. 

“Answer my question, bitch!”

Kim clenches her jaw and tucks in on herself. She’s not telling these bastards anything, if she talks she dies. She just has to hang on until Adam can find her, and she knows he will. He always does.

A boot slams into her back and it takes everything in her to stop herself from crying out in pain.

“Okay, we’ve got security footage from outside the alley where we found the blood,” Jay reports, skipping stairs to get up to the bullpen. They’d found blood in an alley down the road from where Adam wrecked, and by some miracle there’d been a camera close to the entrance.

“Was there anything usable?” Kevin asks, sitting up straighter in his desk. Jay can’t imagine what he’s going through, both of his partners are in danger. Kim is missing and Adam… From the sound of Trudy’s phone call to them, it’ll be a miracle if he makes it through surgery.

“We can’t see anything inside the alley, but there's still a lot.” Jay says and pulls up the footage on the tv. “Adam was parked here,” he points out Adam’s jeep on the screen. “Then this van pulls up.” he narrates as a white van pulls up and blocks the entrance to the alley to the board. “Five guys get out with guns and disappear into the alley. A couple minutes later they come out with Kim.” He can’t help but notice Kevin ducking his head as the video shows the guys hauling Kim’s limp form into the van. “They speed away, and then Ruz comes out of the alley.” It’s easy to tell he’s hurt badly from the way he’s stumbling and barely manages to get into his car. “And he gives chase.”

“That’s why he ran the light,” Kevin sighs. “He was trying to get Kim.”

“Yeah, techs managed to track the van down to the south loop, but lost it. We already have boots on the ground looking for it,” Jay finishes. “We’ll find her, Kevin.”

“I know we will,” he says and stands up. “Do we know where the CI they were meeting is? We can’t sit around here and wait for patrol to find that van, and that guy seems like our best connection right now.”

“We had uniforms stop by his house, but he’s not home,” Hailey says, shaking her head. “I’m going to start digging into his known associates. It’s possible he heard or saw what happened and maybe thought his cover was blown.”

“Or he had something to do with it,” Kevin mutters.

“If he did, we’ll get him,” Voight says, looking around the room at each of them. “No one involved is getting away with it.”

As he finishes speaking, his phone rings.

“It’s Trudy,” He says solemnly, and the room goes dead still.

***

“Adam!” Kim's scream is chilling, and cuts deeper than the burning pain tearing through his body. 

He’s never heard her scream like that. Why would she scream like that?

He hits the pavement. Numb. So numb. The world spinning. Blinding lights coming straight for him. Pain. deafening beeping matching the pounding of his heart… blackness.... Nothing.

“Adam.”

It’s not Kim. It should be Kim.

“Adam.”

Adam opens his eyes slowly as awareness creeps slowly over him, and feeling returns to his body.

“Kim?” He mumbles and looks around the room, struggling to move his head and barely managing to keep his eyes open. Everything hurts, breathing, moving, even the feeling of his own heart beat, all of it hurts, but he has to find Kim. Someone took her, and he has to find her even if the pain of simply being awake kills him.

“Shhh, we’re going to find her. I promise.” It’s Trudy’s voice that soothes him, and urges him to relax, and it’s her hand that gently slides into his.

“They took Kim,” he rasps, struggling to breathe, let alone form words.

“We’re looking for her, I promise. Everything is going to be okay,” Trudy replies, giving his hand a small squeeze.

“She’s not here,” he gasps, and his lungs seem to give out. He tries to breathe in but nothing happens; his chest gets tight as he struggles and fales to bing in air. Everything around him starts blurring together and spinning out of focus, and the distant beeping that used to be steady speeds up.

“Adam?!”

Trudy lets go of his hand and he feels completely alone as darkness folds over him like an all consuming wave. He tries to fight it, he has to stay awake, he has to survive so he can find Kim, so he can be there for her. No matter what, he has to be there for her.

***

“Hey, Kev,” Jay stops Kevin as he tries to walk to his car. This is the third house they’ve been to in search of Darrel, and the third house that has turned up empty. “I just got off the phone with Voight.”

“He got another address for us?” Kevin asks. He’s trying hard to stay positive, but it’s not working. Ruz is dying and Kim is missing. He’d gladly take either of their places, hell he’d gladly take both their places. He’d do anything for them, and yet, right now he can’t seem to do a single thing to help them- to save them.

“No, he said you should go to Med,” Jay replies quietly. “Ruz just got out of a secondary surgery, but he’s still taking a turn for the worse.”

The detective’s words hang in the air. Kevin hears them, but he doesn’t really process them. The idea that Adam might actually die is something Kevin can’t wrap his mind around. Ruz will be fine, he has to be. Right now Kevin needs to be out searching for Kim, it’s where Kim needs him to be, and it’s where Adam would want him to be. “I need to keep working the case.”

Jay shakes his head, and locks gazes with him before rephrasing what he said. “Kevin, you need to go see Adam. It’s bad, and Voight said you might not get another chance.”

“But Kim needs as many people as possible working this case,” Kevin tries to argue. He’s not sure why he’s arguing; he knows Jay is right. If Voight is trying to pull him off the case to go see Adam then it has to be bad. Part of him doesn’t want to go because he doesn’t want it to become real.

***

Kim keeps still. She has no idea how long it’s been since her last beating or even how long it’s been since she woke up in this horrible gloomy place. Things are starting to come back to her though, things about the case, things about the attack in the alley, and finally what happened to Adam. They’d shot him, and as she screamed his name a needle was shoved into her neck and she was pumped full of drugs. And that’s one thing she can’t figure out, why would they shoot him and take her. Do they have plans to use her like they did those other girls. Pump her so full of drugs that she loses her will to fight, loses herself and her life, forgets the faces of the people she loves… forgets Adam. She presses her eyes closed and leans into the cool floor. She could never forget him, no matter what these people do to her she’ll never let him go, never lose his memory.

She remembers now that they shot him and left him in a pool of blood in that alley, she can remember it vividly, the pain that flooded across his face as the bullets tore through his vest. It was real and horrible and as much as she wishes it were just some horrible nightmare, she knows it not. And yet some part of her is still holding out for him, waiting for him to bust through the door and save her, carry her away and wrap her in the warm comforting safety of his arms. She knows it’s silly, but she’s still waiting for him.

Kim sits up as two of her captors enter the room yet again. She refuses to face them laying down, to submit to them.

“Have you decided to tell us what we want to know yet?” one of them asks, stepping close to her.

“Why shoot him? And take me. He knew more about the person you want. They’re his CI,” Kim questions without answering their question.

“Because we couldn’t use him after we got the information we needed.”

Kim feels sick. She was right. They have more plans for her than just using her for information.

“Then you should kill me, too. I’m not telling you anything, and you won’t break me.”

“Everyone breaks.” and before she can fight back, one of the men grabs her by the hair and yanks her head to the side, exposing her neck. She twists and tries to get free, but before she can do anything, a needle is jabbed into her neck and some horrible poison is pushed into her body. She can feel it spread through her as she goes limp and falls to the ground. A fog sets in over brain, she loses her grip on reality, but she can still feel everything.

***

“Hey Trudy,” Kevin says quietly and shuffles into Adam’s hospital room. He can’t bring himself to look at her or his partner. He’d seen the blood in the alley and in his mangled car, and that had been enough. He doesn’t need to see how injured and weak he is now and he doesn’t need to see Platt’s fear and worry, so he keeps his gaze training on the smooth white floor tiles below his feet. “How’s he doing?”

“He’s hanging in there,” Trudy says quietly, her voice wavering slightly. “He keeps asking for Kim.”

Kevin steps closer to the bed, and finally finds it in himself to look up at Adam. He’s pale and still, for a second it doesn’t even look like he’s breathing; there’s dots of red soaking through the bandage wrapped around his head, and his left arm is in a sling and rested across his abdomen. He looks like hell.

“Hey, Ruz,” Kevin whispers and gives his partner a reassuring pat on the hand. “You’re gonna be okay, and we’re gonna find Kim, I promise.”

“Kev?” Adam mumbles, his lips barely moving as his eyes flutter open just a crack. He’s too weak to open them all the way.

“Yeah, I’m here man, I’m here,” Kevin promises and grabs Adam’s hand. 

“You gotta find her,” Adam replies, his eyes closing again. “She has to be okay.”

“She will be,” Kevin says, trying to sound confident. “She will be, Ruz. But look I gotta go, they need me on the case. I just wanted to check in on you.”

Adam doesn’t reply.

Kevin looks up at Trudy, who shakes her head.

“I should go,” Kevin chokes and takes a step back. “I’ll be back later…”

“Kevin, he’ll be okay,” Trudy says confidently. “You just focus on getting Burgess back.”

Kevin nods. “I will. I’ll get her back.”

He’s on his way out of the room when Jay calls him.

“Did you guys get something?” He asks, casting one last glance back at Adam.

“Yeah, we got the CI, and he thinks he knows where they took Kim.”

***

The dark grey stone sealing above Kim seems to be spinning dizzyingly, like when you stare up at the sky after spinning in circles. She still can’t move, she can’t communicate to her body what to do, she can’t even stop the tears trickling slowly down her cheeks as she lays on her back staring up at the stark emptiness above her. Everything hurts, she feels broken, like they’ve kicked and beaten and shattered every part of her. Deep down in the core of her being, it hurts.

There’s a numbness slowly creeping up her body and bringing with it waves of exhaustion. She can feel herself slipping away, losing her grip on the present and drifting off into old memories. Long nights with Adam; the joy that bubbled up inside of her filling her up and making her feel whole and loved when he proposed; the hollowness, the empty pit that opened up inside of her when she left him; and  the comfort of him holding her in his arms. She never feels safer than she does when she’s wrapped in his arms, leaning close to him and being able to hear his steady heart beat in her ear.

She doesn’t even flinch as the sound of gunfire rings through the air. It’s muffled by the haze surrounding her, trapping her in some distant uncaring state of consciousness.

“Burgess!” a familiar voice cries out to her as light floods what might as well be her tomb. She knows the voice, but it could be anyone, and for all she cares it could be no one, because it’s not Adam.

“Kim! Kim, we got you,” A second voice joins in and bodies surround her and touch her. Part of her wants to reach out to them and cling to them for dear life, but she doesn’t. Adam is missing. He should be there, he’s always there. No matter what he’s always there for her, he’s always there to pull her into his arms and keep her safe.

“Where’s Adam?” she manages to whisper as her head falls against someone’s shoulder. Dark spots are beginning to spread across her vision and she’s quickly losing her grip on consciousness. “Adam…”

“We got you, Kim.”

She finally slips into the welcoming blackness tugging at her.

***

“She’s gonna be okay.” Kevin stands up as Will comes into the waiting room to share the good news. “They drugged her with some heavy stuff, but we’re giving her some medication to help her come down from it.”

“You’re sure?” Kevin asks, glancing at Jay and Hailey who are both letting out sighs of relief.

“Yes I’m sure. She’s got some cuts and bruises but she’s responding well to the medication we have her on,” Will reasures him.

“And they only beat her up? They didn’t do anything else?” Kevin asks, lowering his voice. He knows he’s not the only one who has that thought running through his mind.

“There wasn’t any evidence of sexual assault. They didn’t do any of that to her,” Will promises, and gives him a pat on the shoulder. “She’s not awake yet, but you can go see her if you want to.”

“Thank you,” Kevin breathes, relief flooding over him. For the first time since getting the call about Adam’s wreck he feels like he can breathe easy. Kim and Adam are safe now.

***

“Where’s Adam?” Kim asks. Looking around the room trying to find him. He should be here, he’s always there for her when she wakes up, holding her hand, promising her it will be okay, and making sure she knows he’s there and that he won’t leave her. The room feels empty without him, she feels empty without him.

Kevin purses his lips and takes her hand in his.

“Kevin, what happened? Where is Adam?” She chokes, searching his gaze for answers. His expression is grave. “Kevin?”

“Kim, he’s in ICU,” Kevin says gently. “He’s hurt pretty bad.”

Kim shakes her head and squeezes her eyes closed. “No, no, no…”

“Hey, it’ll be okay,” Kevin tries to console her, but she can’t find comfort in his words. She needs Adam here with her, she needs him to tell her everything’s going to be okay, everything always feels okay when he’s there with her.

“What happened?” Kim asks, taking in a deep breath and reminding herself to breathe.

“He got shot, but tried to go after you anyway,” Kevin starts.

Kim shakes her head miserably.

“He ran a redlight and got hit,” Kevin finishes. “It was bad, but he’ll be okay. He’s too stubborn to die.”

***

It’s late when Kim wakes up next, the clock on the wall says it’s well past 3:00 A.M. Her room is empty and the hallway outside her room is quiet. Really the only sounds she can hear is the quiet beep of the monitor next to her and the night sounds of the city outside her window. It’s peaceful and… lonely. She’s never woken up in the hospital before, Adam is always there. He always makes sure she’s not alone, that she knows someone is there with her.

Her muscles are still sore, and her scrapes and bruises hurt despite the medication they have her on, but she makes herself sit up anyway. She knows she’s not supposed to do it, but she doesn’t care, she peels the monitor leads off her skin and swings her legs out of bed. She’s going to go find Adam. She’s not going to let him wake up alone. She wasn’t able to pry many details out of Kevin about his condition, but she knows it’s bad, and she knows he needs her there with him.

It’s a painful walk from her room to the ICU, and the tile floor is cold under bare feet, but she keeps going, checking each room until she finally finds him. Trudy is asleep in the chair next to his bed, and he’s asleep too, but that doesn’t stop her from slipping quietly into the room. He looks to be in worse shape than she’d been expecting; Kevin had said it was bad, she didn’t think it’d be this bad. He looks dead; all the color is gone from his face and he’s cut and bruised. The only sign that he’s still alive is his shallow breaths that seem to be hurting him. There’s a blanket pulled up over his chest that she’s sure is concealing the worst of his injuries. 

“Hey, Adam,” Kim breathes as she climbs slowly into the bed next to him, being careful not to bump him. She’s sure he can’t hear her, he’s out cold, but she doesn’t care. She needs him to know she’s there. “I’m right here with you.”

She settles in close to him and slides one arm under his neck, so his head is leaned against her body.

“Kim?” His soft mumble takes her by surprise. Between the amount of blood he lost and the amount of painkillers they must have her on she hadn’t been expecting him to wake up anytime soon.

“Yeah, it’s me. I’m right here with you,” she whispers and kisses the top of his head.

“I’m sorry… I should’ve been there for you…”

“Adam, it’s not your fault. You have nothing to apologize for,” Kim soothes.

“I thought I lost you,” he replies softly and  leans his head a little closer to her.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Kim promises. “Now get some rest.”

[willadisastercry]

The part where they pick up the pieces...

tw: discussion of blood, severe breathing difficulties, impalement, loss of conciousness, setting of a bone, needles, near death of a character

Part 2 of everyone gets whumped...

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

The ride back to the castle was less than ten dobashes, but it felt painfully longer.

Before Green’s paws even touched the hanger her ramp was already setting down to reveal Coran and Allura anxious to board.

Lance struggled to stifle the groan that the rumbling of Green’s jaws opening produced deep in his throat, setting alight a new fire in his shoulder when the jolt of it sent him forward, the metal still deep in his thigh shifting and letting a new spurt of blood well up and add to the small puddle forming underneath him.

Hunk clamped his hands over his ears and took several shakey breaths before he was certain he had pushed most of the bile that had risen up back down, shifting uncomfrotably to cover his eyes in the crook of his arm in anticipation of the inetsense lighting of Green’s hangar.

Keith didn’t fare well upon arrival either. He had been fighting the darkness that slowly clouded his vision as the pressure in his chest mounted, but the sudden landing sent him sprawling and all the spots he was sore and aching seemed to beat with a new fury as his vision wavered against his ragged breaths.

“I’ve got Pidge! Someone needs to grab Keith and Lance—no you’ve done enough buddy, let her help you...” Shiro ordered as he rose to his feet with Pidge still cradled against his chest, some soft cries escaping her mouth when he leaned back and hefted Hunk up as well.

He ushered his apologies while he waited for Hunk to orient himself before letting his grip on his arm go.

“Um... so you’re saying missing a shoulder bone is a common human injury?”

“More like misplaced, but yeah, wait—PLEASE do not touch, oh my god! Just because it’s missing, doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt, it’s still there Allura...”

Coran knelt beside Keith who had waved off the helping hand at first but the effort of even bringing himself up to his knees sent him into another coughing fit. The world before him spun and the pulse behind his eyes raged harder than ever, muffling everything the altean said to him before he found himself slumping into his embrace, the sound of his chest rattling was harsh and unnerving.

“Oh, my boy... alright, brace yourself,” was all Coran uttered before hefting Keith up and over his shoulder, the movement producing a stiff sigh while his arms shook from where they clutched then hung down limply as his chest contracted.

“Just relax, number four. Relief will come soon.”

They were just leaving Black’s hangar behind when Pidge uttered her first coherent words, she was mumbling for Shiro and then for Matt, her voice hitching and breaking when she called out for her parents. Shiro just shushed her and cradled her tighter into his chest as he tried his best not to break himself while he ran as fast as he could.

Hunk made his way slowly, using the wall heavily while he fought to keep his balance, Allura checking in on him every now and again when he would stumble while she fought Lance.

His good arm slung around Allura and his injured shoulder hanging unnaturally low as he limped along, his injured leg barely able to hold any weight now.

“This is silly Lance!”

He refused to be carried even though his legs shook so badly his balance was nearly as skewed as Hunk’s.

“What could possibly be so silly ab—agh!”

Allura had stepped away from Lance who lilted and was forced to catch himself by putting weight onto bad leg, biting down hard on his lip to keep from crying out.

“I’m done entertaining this,” the Princess stated before sweeping a grumbling Lance onto her shoulders in a fireman carry.

“Just be glad your travel size,” Hunk sighed wearily.

Coran and Shiro were the first to arrive and activated the sliding doors of the medical facility.

“This bed here, Shiro!”

“Wait, bed? Why not a pod?” Lance asked worriedly.

“I am most disheartened to say that only one pod is adaquately charged at the moment, I’ve redirected the castle’s power to charge a second but the system sustained substantial damaged during the fight... it might be a while before a second is operational,” Coran noted grimly, setting Keith down to sit on the edge of the bed across from the one Shiro was settling Pidge in.

“For now we must assess who truly cannot afford to wait and should it come to it we will conduct the healing process in stages.”

The (semi) walking wounded were just making it into the room when Keith let out a particulary wet hack and wiped the blood that came away off on his sleeve.

“Oh alaran, okay... Allura where are your mice?! We need these suits off now so I can begin my assessment and we don’t have enough hands!”

Coran tossed Shiro a pair of scissors who took over peeling the shredded suit away from Keith’s front, slowly revealing the giant welt that seemed to be his chest and side, all varying degrees of purple and red. His labored breathing made it difficult to work around and slowed the process, so he ended up leaving the more precise work of his shredded back for Coran.

“We must determine who can do without a healing pod for now...”

The mice were doing a swift job of Pidge’s suit while Coran attached wires to her chest and inserted an IV in her arm after getting both arms through a gown. There were dozens of wires now on her small body, a thingy on her finger, a canula around her ears delivering more oxygen though her nose. There also soon dozens on bandages.

The mice picked the large pieces of metal out of her wounds while coran wrapped gauze down her arm and thigh before moving to fully asses her stomach under a dense pile of white already soaked through.

“Pidge first,” Keith rasped as he look across to his teammate, so lifeless and small on the bed. He knew she was physically smaller than the rest of the team, she always had been, but never before had her tiny form scared him like this.

She remained unresponsive and bleeding from way too many places, another puddle quickly forming under her on the bed. Coran was murmuring nonsense about her vitals while preparing a pressure bandage for the largest of the leaking wounds on her stomach. Once it was covered it seemed to stabilize her and made the blaring machines quiet of which Hunk was very thankful for.

“Shiro, wave this scanner over number four’s chest and tell me the extent of the damage. Allura, cut three out of his suit as well, wrap the metal in place with this, use the scanner after. Then scan Hunk’s head, he’s look a tad green, maybe grab a bucket for the lad.”

Allura settled Lance down in a chair next to Hunk who helped himself to an ice pack and tried to keep from passing out or throwing up as he waited, the mice settling themselves on his shoulder and licking his face when his eyes fluttered shut.

Barely any of Lance’s suit survived Allura’s scissors. She cut the entirety of his right sleeve into bits so as to not disturb his shoulder, then rummaged around in the cabinet for a sling. It went on with some protest, but ultimately the stability of it hurt less. 

“So strange how a cold block revlieves pain for humans... seems a bit barbaric to me.”

“It’s not barbaric, it’s heaven,” Lance hissed as she secured the last pack with the altean equivalent of an ace bandage and he shook under the delightfully painful sting of the cold against his throbbing shoulder.

Hunk leaned back in his chair and squeezed his eyes shut, somewhat reliving the exhausting spinning he experienced when they were open as another wave of nausea washed over him, he wouldn’t be able to keep his dinner down much longer.

“You’d better stay awake number two, haven’t had a look at that third eye yet,” Coran almost laughed at himself, but somehow he couldn’t as he worked Pidge. 

She was too pale. Too quiet. And while he had managed to somewhat staunch the bleeding for now, he couldn’t remedy what had already been lost. Not with gauze. And not with the pod.

But Keith’s breathing was taking a turn for the worst.

Shiro peeled the last of the top half of Keith’s suit from his arms and asked Allura to help hold him steady while he scanned the already dark expanse of his chest. 

His eyes were glazed and his breathing was very labored now, not much getting in and not much coming out.

There was blood leaking from the corner of his mouth now, the stream almost steady.

The scanner blared red as it passed across the front of his body. Four broken ribs, several others bruised, and a pulmonary contusion. The cuts on his back were superficial mostly, some deep and wide enough to need stitches. But that was all expected.

What wasn’t expected was the bleeding in his abdomen.

His liver. The damage was extensive.

Coran looked over when Shiro relayed that bit, Keith was pale and shaking now, the effects of blood loss ringing true.

He was at Keith’s bed in a second, holding his head up limply so he could secure an oxygen mask on his face, his skin was warm to the touch and his face glistened with sweat. 

He had no idea how the boy was still coherent, let alone sitting up mostly on his own.

Coran began attaching wires all over to track his vitals, ignoring how he winced under the touch, his head remaining in the crook of Shiro’s arm where it had resided after Allura left with the scanner.

The mix 100% oxygen and an altean herb that relaxed distress seemed to bring his levels up and calm him down. It somewhat and soothed the burning in his throat, but he continued to wheeze, the rattle in his chest as present as ever.

“Can you hear me, lad?”

Keith’s eyes lidded and he looked around, searching for Coran who lifted his chin up and shined a light across his eyes. They were sluggish but followed it accordingly.

“Shiro get him on his side. Begin cleaning the wounds on his back and removing all of the debris. Call out his oxygen saturation every few minutes. All we can do is monitor his internal bleeding for now, but if his breathing takes a turn he’s going into a pod immediately and the shrapenl cannot be there if he does.”

He returned to Pidge and flicked through her chart with all of his diognositics on it shaking his head.

“I need Lance scanned, and pricked,” he said after a moment of deliberation, holding up a finger pincher for blood typing.

“Shiro and Hunk I also need you pricked... actually maybe not Hunk just yet.”

“M’ fine,” he protested, barely able to string coherent words together, the mice squeaking in protest.

“Pidge needs a blood transfusion before she goes into a pod, if I put her in now without having stopped the bleeding... she may bleed out in a matter of minutes, and with the rate that Keith is losing blood into his abdominal cavity, he will too.”

“No need to type everyone, I’m compatible with both. Universal donor, baby! Take my beautiful blood,” Lance beamed holding his good arm out.

“We’ll have Shiro typed as well, you can only give so much since you’re also injured.”

“Pshh, take as much as you need.”

Allura rolled down the remnants of his sleeve until it slipped off.

“Hook up his vitals, Princess. Can you start IV fluids and the donation line like I showed you?”

“Yes, I think so...”

“Think so? You are not—OUCH, hey! Well... that wasn’t so bad.”

The princess stifled her laughs as she attached a bag of fluids to the IV she placed in Lance’s hand, then tied a rubber band around his bicep.

“Shiro, can you finish dressing Pidge’s more minor wounds? Pack the gauze on before you tape, and don’t fret about being gentle. I’d like to take a look at Keith’s chest for myself... Princess after you’ve started the first donation can you type number one?”

Everyone uttered in agreement and Coran sighed as he left Pidge to switch with Shiro.

He sat on the side of Keith’s bed and picked up where Shiro had left off on his back, holding together the wider gashes with surgical tape and packing them all with gauze as well. Only a few needed stitching, but he packed them with gauze for now before bandaging.

“I’ve got to take a look at your front, my boy,” Coran noted as he shifted Keith from laying more on his stomach to completely on his side.

His face scrunched up in discomfort when he did.

There was hardly a spot on his front untouched by darkening bruises, each in different stages of purple and red.

He waved his scanner over the darkest spot on his side just as Lance cried out, the results would take a dobash to calibrate.

“Fuck, AGHhh, owh Allura! I—mmph” Lance kicked his feet out to keep literal tears from escaping his eyes, then clutched at his leg when kicking shifted the rather large metal spire still inside of it, and grimaced again when all of his movement agitated his shoulder once more.

“What is going on over there?!”

“I may or may not have bumped into Lance’s mangled shoulder...” Allura said guiltily as she held Lance firmly in his seat while he squirmed, scared that he was going to continue hurting himself or pull out both of the vital needles in his good arm.

“Erm, Coran you might want to take a look at this,” Allura postured once Lance had calmed down enough to let her move the ice pack, he was exhausted both from the pain and the energy it took to thrash given almost an entire pint of of his blood was now in a bag next to him, not to mention what he’d already lost.

Coran left the scanner as it loaded it’s prognosis.

“Shiro, what did you call this strange phenomenon?” Coran asked as he mused over the lack of shoulder bone at the top of his neck.

“His shoulder is dislocated...?”

“That’s to say, the head of the joint is in another location?”

“Yes...?”

“Where then—oh. Oh, dear. How does one go about correcting this? Altean joints are connected by seemingly much stronger tissues and tendons... this is most unusual,” Coran asked nervously as he looked over Lance’s shoulder to his back where the missing bone was protruding from.

“You put it back into place. I’ve seen it done, it’ll hurt but you kind of just pull depending on which way it went out...”

Coran waved the scanner over it and it blared red, corroborating Shiro’s diagnosis.

“Very well, number one, Lance’s shoulder is indeed dis-lo-cated. You said to just... pull?”

Coran asked quizzically as he removed the sling and took up Lance’s arm straight out in front of him.

“HOLD UP—GAH!”

Lance was thrashing once more and cradling his arm now, sweat dripping from his forehead as he panted.

“How was that, number—“

“HOW WAS THAT?! That was awful! It’s also still not back in place and... jeez, is it warm in here or is that just me?”

Coran waved the scanner over Lance’s shoulder once more.

“Hmm, the injured muscles appear to be spasming. It seems the joint cannot be reduced unless the muscles and the patient are relaxed, the scanner advises a muscle relaxer be injected in the area...”

“Will this do, Coran?” Allura was holding a vial and syringe she had just pulled from the cabinet freshly restocked of human medicines and vaccines.

“Yes, princess! This may sting...” Lance had no energy left to protest. He barely even felt the needle going into his shoulder, though he doubted he’d ‘barely’ feel what came next.

His head hung low as he braced himself, a steady, thumping heart beat the only thing he could really hear at that point. He vaguely wondered if he should tell Coran he was seeing stars or not, thinking it wouldn’t matter in a minute anyway.

“Shiro, can you hold the boy steady... yes, like that. Okay, deep breath number three.”

Lance had just began sucking in a huge breath when Coran pulled on his arm and Shiro pushed on his chest, keeping his body still while the tension on his arm slipped the joint of his shoulder back into place with a satisfactory pop!

He couldn’t even feel the pain or relief that came with the reduction of the injury because his head lolled forward to rest on Shiro’s forearm, his hands on his chest the only thing left keeping the exhausted boy upright as consciousness dripped away and he slumped further.

“Lance!”

“Crap,” Shiro exclaimed, pushing his weight back against the chair and holding him there.

“That’s enough blood from you,” Allura said as she stopped the donation.

“All vitals normal except... blood volume, but that’s expected... heart rate elevated, that should return to normal soon... and blood pressure extremely high, yep. Right, so the boy has passed out,” Coran stated as if that fact wasn’t already blatant enough.

“Think we knew that already,” Shiro laughed blandly, Lance’s head still in the crook of his arm.

“Allura, can you start the line for the transfusion on Pidge?”

She nodded as she unhooked the line from Lance and brought the bag of blood still very warm over to Pidge’s bed.

“Can you set Lance up in a bed for me while I check in on Keith?”

“Yes,” Shiro gruffed as he carefully lifted Lance, trying not to jostle either of his injuries.

Keith hadn’t improved when Coran returned, the IV fluids and oxygen only preventing a further decline in his condition.

“This isn’t good my boy,” he mused, flicking through the report and brushing his hair out of his eyes. He leaned into the touch, his face filled with desperation and slick with sweat from his constant efforting to breathe.

Coran let out a rather aggressive sigh.

“I need a 14 gauge needle.”

“14 gauge? But that’s for... “

“Yes, I am afraid the pressure in his lungs is building and if i don’t decompress now his contusion will progress into a tension pneumothorax and cut off oxygen to his brain and—thank you. Keith...”

He reached for the mask on his face and tried to garble out a few words but none of it was coherent through the wheezes that came with them.

“I know, my boy. Relax, you will feel much better in a moment, I’ve got to roll you onto your back now—I apologize for the discomfort.”

Keith groaned at the new orientation and soon his breathing nearly stopped altogether, his body spasming and his face twisting up as it was deprived almost entirely of air.

It wasn’t just the injuries on fire underneath him, the fluid that had built up in his lungs and chest cavity had moved to block what little air he had been managing to make it in.

“I’m sorry,” Coran offered as he pressed on his chest right next to his sternum and just below his collarbone than found the third rib down and stabbed the large needle into the intercostal space between it and the next.

He had taken the inside of the needle out so it was just the tube that was now letting out a high pitched hiss as the pressure in Keith’s lungs dissipated. He heaved gratefully, choking and sputtering on the renwed ability to in bring air, his throat aching dryly and his head buzzing while blood rushed back up to it.

“Vitals stabilizing... oxygen saturation increasing... blood pressure steady... heart rate lowering... blood volume still dangerously low... How’s number three? Keith also needs a transfusion.”

“Lance can’t give anymore, he’s still out,” Shiro said as he rearranged the wires attached to him and took the needle left from the donation out.

“Allura says I’m B negative. What is Keith?”

“He’s AB positive, you’re compatible but I have reservations about the Galra component of his blood... if he were donating I’d be more hesitant, I just don’t have enough expertise in this area to be confident that he won’t react as if you weren’t even compatible...”

“Just-just do it,” Keith croaked almost inaubidly. “Do it so Pidge can go in the pod. I’ll be fine, j-j-just do it.”

“Alright, number four, but you tell us if anything feels wrong, okay? Allura can you prep Pidge for the pod?”

Shiro dragged a chair over to Keith’s bedside and rolled up his sleeve. Coran tied a rubber band around his bicep and started the donation then went to Keith and got him set up for the transfusion. The line coming from Shiro’s arm connected directly to Keith’s, a small monitor tracking how much was being distributed.

Neither boy said much of anything for a while, both staring helplessly as Coran and Allura situated Pidge in a healing pod. It was dimmer than usual and seemed slower to activate, but Pidge hadn’t moved so much as an inch and didn’t seem to mind the wait.

It was only when Lance woke up again that either were aware their eyes had drifted shut. They didn’t remain that way for long though...

LOL didn’t think there’d be a part 3 but here we are, I apologize.

[yuna-dan]

Hi. Since you like BTR can you write a Logince fic with a BTR song? Thanks.

Hello! I want to say that I was very happy when I got this and i was like i’m going to write about Cover Girl but then I remember I’ve always loved Cruise Control and it’s not exactlly a known song, so yeah. I hope you like it

please ignore the fact that it’s 4:00 am

--

Warning: Homophobia, transphobia and teens running away. This is also highly,,, huh, positive? 

if you wanna be added to the tag list please interact with this

Buy me a kofi?  | Masterpost | Comission Info

Based on this song [x] Also in this universe Roman is a only child

---

I just wanna get in the car

And drive away

That's all I wanna do

Doesn't matter where we go

As long as it's me and you

“Meet you at the bridge at 22:10, if I’m not there at 22:10, don’t wait for me.” Those were the words that his friend had whispered in his ear right before the teacher arrived.

“Roman…”

Roman’s eyes were filled with something that Logan couldn’t pinpoint exactly, but nodded anyways, “I’ll tell you.”

Come ride with me all night

Wherever you wanna go

The six had been talking about leaving the hometown. Logan always thought it would be when they decided to go to college but seeing Roman’s bruises made Logan’s mind quickly.

“Homophobia is a bitch, isn’t it?” Janus had said at some point on their life, before they left the town for good. Sometimes Logan goes into Jan’s Facebook profile just to see if they’re okay…

(The account was deactivated three months after they left, but for some reason Logan knew that Janus was okay. He hoped his sibling was okay.)

“My parents know about us.” Roman said, softly as they kissed behind a tree, hiding. They’re always hiding.

“What?” Logan’s brain didn’t register what came out of Roman’s mouth.

“My parents know about us.” He repeated, his voice getting smaller, “I-…”

Logan braced himself for the I’m breaking up with you, but it never came, “I’m sorry.”

“They said they wanted to fix me…”

There’s nothing to fix you’re perfect he wanted to say, but words were lost.

“Let’s run away.”

Into the moonlight

Drive to the end of the road

It was night, and Roman hasn’t arrived. Logan’s backpack wasn’t even that heavy, but it was heavy for him.

“Are you sure?” He asked. Logan knew for a fact that his parents would not be happy if he decided to came out, he stills remember the way they refuse to call his sibling Janus, always going for the Janice.

“I know I’m asking for a lot… but…”

“No, let’s do it.”

Keep going to the sunrise

Put the car in cruise control, cruise control, cruise control

Anywhere you wanna go

It 22:09 and Roman wasn’t here. A small voice behind his mind told him he’s not coming, he’s not coming.

He was ready to give up, go inside his small car and drive away until this town was far behind. He felt hot tears stinging in his eyes.

“Don’t you dare.” He heard, “Don’t you dare leave without me, Specs, I’m coming!”

Everyday it's always the same

Gotta get away

Out of this game

Am so sick of this same town

This same place and these same faces

They drove in silence, not sure on what they could say, “We need to stop at an ATM.” Roman said, after a few minutes of silence. Logan threw him a questioning look, his eyes leaving the road for a second.

“I steal her card.” He said, holding a blue card between his index and middle finger, “We can withdraw all the money and disappeared.”

Logan chuckles, “That will be nice.”

They decided to stop at a gas station, it was still night, probably 3 am. They got rid of their phones a few miles after the town ended, not risking getting located. His mind drifted back to his sibling, who had done the same thing a few years before.

“I will be okay, I promise you, once I’m in a steady place, I will find you.” They said, the night they left. Two years ago, sometimes Logan wonder about them and wishes he could’ve been a better brother.

The small voice in his mind him you’re the youngest brother and look in the position you’re.

Thankfully Roman came back, breaking his thoughts “There were only 1300 dollars, babe.”

Logan choked, and wanted to say only? He had 180 dollars, “Wow, that, that will be okay for now.” For moments, Logan forget that Roman was that rich kid. Back when they met, when they were younger and before the town casted them outside for being different Roman used to be a spoiled kid, who would cry until his mama bought him the latest and newest toy.

Now, he thought, we’re starting from scratch. 

“I guess we’ll have to work.” Roman said, as if the idea scared him, it probably did.

Logan chuckled, “Hop in, we’ll see how it goes.”

When Roman got into the car, the card was on the ground, abandoned.

So you came

And you open my heart to

Everything I never thought I do

And everyway and all because of you

Roman was driving now, as Logan stared into the map, “We’re heading north, right?” Roman asked.

Logan nodded, staring into the night sky, “Why?”

“Janus told me he went to the north, besides the south sucks.” They chuckled. After a beat of silence, Roman spoke again, “Do you think they’ve noticed?”

“It’s been two weeks, Roman, and it’s not like that shithole is exactly huge. Of course they noticed.”

“Do you think they cared?”

Logan remembered the way it was after Janus left, “I don’t know…”

“Is it bad a part of me wishes they cared?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

“Sometimes, I wish thing were different. I wish holding your hand didn’t mean danger, and I wish I could kiss you without going to a camp.” His eyes were on the road, but Logan knew they weren’t focused.

“I’m sorry.”

“it’s not your fault…” Roman’s eyes were watering now, and Logan simply put his hand on his tight, “I just…”

“You wish you could hate them?” He guessed, maybe projecting, and Roman nodded, “Yeah, I know.”

They slept parked on the sideway, they were holding hands.

I gotta get away, get away, get away

And never come back, no

They arrived at a city and rent a hotel room. Ten dollars the night. It wasn’t a great a room, but it wasn’t perfect.

They decided they didn’t want to watch the news, so they spend that night watching silly cartoons a cuddling (after showering, thank you very much, someone can spend a specific amount of time inside a car)

“We can stay here a few days,” Logan was the one managing the money, and Roman had managed to exchange some things for a couple of dollars. They’ve work, doing some errands.

It was hard, it was heavy, and it was tiring.

They wouldn’t have it other way.

As they slept, Logan noticed that this was their third month on the run, and he hadn’t felt homesick at all.

Home is not a place, the voice provided, and he closed his eyes.

I just wanna get in the car

And drive away

That's all I wanna do

Doesn't matter where we go

As long as it's me and you

A year. 

They never left that small city. Roman found himself working in the hotel and Logan found a job too, which wasn’t exactly his dream job, but he couldn’t be picky.

“Do you regret the decision?” Roman asked, one night as they kissed.

“What?” 

“Leaving.” He simply said, kissing his temple.

“Never.”

When they kissed, Roman tasted like home.

“Sometimes I’m scared you’ll wake up one day and you’ll realized that you don’t want to spend the rest of your life trapped on a hotel room…” Logan pecked his lips, interrupting his thoughts.

“Roman, I would follow you until the end of the world, doesn't matter where we go, as long as it's me and you.”

Come ride with me all night

Wherever you wanna go

Into the moonlight

Drive to the end of the road

Keep going to the sunrise

Put the car in cruise control, cruise control, cruise control

Anywhere you wanna go.

Five years went by, jobs went by. The only steady thing in Roman’s and Logan’s life was each other.

When they bought their first house, they couldn’t be more excited, Roman was practically shining as he received the keys. 

“Welcome home.” The salesman said, as she opened the door.

“I’ve always been home.” Roman said, kissing Logan.

Doesn't matter where we go

As long as it's me and you

[hotchocolatewriting]

A call for help #6

TW: Low self esteem, death mention

Part 1  || Part 2  || Part 3  || Part 4  || Part 5  || Part 6  || Part 7 || Part 8

1. I just learned how to use the read more button. 2. This part is long and it’s weird because I wanted to write 4 parts and now we have 6. I just can’t stop.. I fell in love with hero, so maybe there will be even more.. Anyway, here is part 6! With a little bit more fluff! There was nothing to do inside the house and hero wasn’t ready to leave the house either. Cleaning was one of the more logical options, so hero went upstairs to sort some of their boxes.

It worked calming and it distracted their mind. It was a good thing not to think about everything that had happened in the last few years. It felt good to take some time for themselves and do some easy things. 

Hero stood on their toes, trying to take one of the bigger boxes of the closet. Hero could feel old injuries sting, but they ignored it. They were old and healed, the pain would go away after a few hours. 

The box was heavier than hero had thought in the first place and it slipped, falling down on the ground. Hero looked at the albums on the ground. Old photo albums.

“Great! A reminder of my family. I could use that now.” They picked the albums off the ground when something cached their eyesight. An article about them, when they had saved a child.

Hero sat down on the ground and looked through the album. It was one that they had made years ago and filled with all kinds of articles. There were a lot of pictures were they stood in their suit, smiling. People that talked about them like they were the best person in the world. That they were thankful for everything hero had done for the city.

“But supervillain said…” Hero flipped a few other pages. More happy people, more good deeds, more praising. “Why do I even care what they said. I didn’t kill them myself, that were the other villains, not me.” Hero closed the album and held it close to their chest. They looked at the other albums spread on the floor. Family pictures, friends. “Maybe I didn’t kill them, but I was the cause that led to their death.” 

Their mind was fighting against them. Everything that supervillain told them, every negative thought they had, fighting against this one or maybe two good thoughts. Hero got to their feet and left the house for the first time in two weeks. They needed time to think and for once they didn’t want to stay inside.

Being outside still felt uneasy for them. People stared and walked away as soon as hero came near. It confirmed the negative thoughts hero had. Everything around them got killed. Hero tried to think about the good things they had done, but it was hard to keep the positive thought in mind when all those negative thoughts were trying to consume it. 

“Hero? Is that you?” A person ran towards them. Hero froze, not sure how to react, ready to run away. They closed their eyes and shielded their face with their hands.

“Easy, I’m not gonna hurt you.” Hero slowly lowered their hands and looked at the person standing before them. Hero had no idea who they were or what they wanted.

“You shouldn’t come close, I.. Everyone around me dies.” The other person gave them a friendly smile, reached out, but pulled back before they actually touched hero.

“It’s okay, you know me as other hero. I just want to help. I saw you walking and.. I didn’t know you escaped.” Hero sniffed. Them? Escaping themselves? It was more like supervillain kicking them out and them wanting to crawl back like the coward they were.

“I didn’t escape, they let me go two months ago.” Other hero looked at them with worried eyes.

“Why didn’t I see you sooner then? Are you okay?” Hero didn’t really know what to answer. Were they okay? 

“I don’t know, I don’t come outside that much. I don’t want people to get hurt because of me and I don’t deserve to do things I like after what I’ve done.”

“What? Hero, you can do whatever you want! You’re free, that monster isn’t going to hurt you again!” Hero shook their head.

“They come to visit sometimes. I bought a puppy because I was lonely and they took it away. They help me remember what I did. They are the only one I still talk to. Everyone else is gone.” Hero gulped when other hero pulled them into their arms. They tensed, heart racing in their chest, but other hero didn’t let go.

“You are not alone anymore and you shouldn’t listen to that monster. Don’t let them in any more, okay?” Hero shook their head, tears had started to stream down their face.

“I can’t, they just come and go. Besides who else am I supposed to talk to? Everyone is dead, other hero, everyone I cared about is dead or gone!” They cried and their body started to shake with every sob. Other hero stroked their back.

“Come with me, I have a place for you in my base where you can heal without supervillain interrupting. I will help you and give you everything you need. I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner, but it’s okay now. You’re not alone. Easy, hero.” 

Hero cried even harder now. They melted in the soft touch, the comfort they had to miss for years. The reassuring words, the kindness.

They walked back to hero’s house to get a few clean clothes. Hero insisted to take the photo album with articles with them, but they weren’t so sure about the other albums. It hurt to look at the pictures. It was their fault, they didn’t deserve the kindness of other hero.

Other hero could see hero’s doubt. “It’s okay if you don’t want to look at them for a while. I can keep them outside your room, but take them with you. We don’t know what supervillain will do when they see you’re gone and I don’t want you to lose the last thing you’ve left of your loved ones.” Hero nodded and took the whole box with them. Their shoulders hurt because of old injuries and the weight of the box. “Are you really sure you want me with you? I mean..”

“Yes, you need time to heal and I’m sure supervillain won’t find you. You deserve to heal, hero.” Hero smiled a little at that. At least one person in this room thought they deserved it.

“Take a nice warm bath, I will make your room ready and get you some new things.” Hero stood still in their place. A bath? Was that okay for them? The idea wasn’t relaxing at all. Still hero did as they were told. They hoped other hero wouldn’t go over and take too many things. Hero didn’t want to be a burden to them and they didn’t want other hero to spend all their money on them. When other hero returned, they found hero sitting on the floor. They placed the two bags on the table and gestures hero to take a look. “T..that’s a lot..” hero said as they looked at the bags. Other hero smiled, hoping hero would see that it was okay with them. “Why all those extra pillows?” “Your shoulders seem to hurt a lot, probably the rest of your body too.” Hero nodded, they had no idea what kind of damage supervillain had really done, but they knew some of the pain would never go away. “Chronical pain, my shoulders and legs are the worst. Sometimes they hurt so bad that I don’t know how to sit or sleep,” hero admitted, thinking about how frustrating that was. How only their painful shoulders were sometimes enough to make them cry again. “That’s what these pillows are for. To make your comfortable. I also got you soft pyjamas and a few candles for in your room, oh, and books!” Hero’s eyes filled with tears. There was no need to do that and still they did. Why? Why would they do that for someone like them? Hero shook their head. Try not to think like that, supervillain was lying… Right? Other hero looked a little unsure before they showed a third bag. “I also got you a few soft blankets for in the house and I got this.” Other hero pulled a stuffed animal out of the bag. It looked soft, just like everything else. “I know it sounds silly and don’t think that I see you as a child or something, but you missed contact and hugs for a long time. It helps me when I feel down, maybe it can also help you. Give a feeling of reassurance.” Hero smiled, they liked that idea. “Thank you.” Months passed by and hero had their ups and downs. The negative thoughts never really left, but they tried to keep positive. At least they slept in a bed again and they were outside more often. They kept a journal with friendly reminders and talked to other hero who eased them out of the negative thoughts. Sometimes they watched TV with other hero, other times they just read a book. It was hard not to think about what supervillain had said, but hero managed to live like a normal person most of the time. People kept avoiding them and they kept staring and whispering, but as long as other hero was there for them, it was alright. They weren’t alone anymore and with the months that had passed, hero started to forget about their love for supervillain. It had always been a toxic idea and other hero was far better for them. That was why they loved all the hugs and even the forehead kisses they could get.

“Hero?” Hero looked up from their book. Watching as other hero walked into the room with a package in their hands. It was beautifully wrapped and even closed with a seal. Hero raised an eyebrow at the sight of it.

“What’s that?” They asked curiously as other hero sat down at the bedside.

“Remember that you told about regretting that you burned your suit?” Hero nodded, of course they remembered. It was one of the first things they had started to regret as soon as they were getting better.

“I don’t know what I was thinking back then, other hero... I even tried to save the life of a rat! I was going insane.” They both laughed at that. Now hero was getting better, they could see all the illogical things they had done because of supervillain. Refusing to watch TV because they didn’t deserve it? They’d just been so scared, they still were. 

“Open it, it’s yours.” Hero slowly broke the seal to open the package. It was heavy and hero wasn’t sure what they wanted to do with it. There was one thing they had decided after they got better and that was that they would never be a hero again. Supervillain was right about one thing. They had been selfish and they didn’t want to be like that ever again.

“It’s beautiful!” It looked exactly like their old suit, but it was stronger and there was an extra protection for their mask. Not that they needed it anymore, everyone knew who they were.

“Thank you,” hero was quiet for a moment, “but… what do you want me to do with it? I don’t want to be a hero anymore.” Other hero grinned.

“Maybe not, but you can look at it as if it’s your old one and maybe you get to wear it one more time.” Hero couldn’t think about them wearing that costume again. They refused.

“What for? I told you I don’t want to be a hero anymore.” Other hero laid their arm around hero’s neck. Knowing they still loved to be touched in all the good ways, without being hurt.

“We need to get a certain dog back.”