#never heard of her

[sneakingpasta]

11 NEW DANMEI LICENSES AND A FINALE!!!! WE FEAST IN 2025

[awakenedevildays]

「take-out and matches」 Art Donaldson x F!reader

you can read the other parts here!

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currently thinking of Art watching his latest match on tv to see the mistakes he has done and how he can improve: he is sitting with his bare back comfortably resting against the cushion of the couch, arms crossed against his chest and legs slightly spread and if it wasn't for his eyes fixed on the TV, his eyebrows furrowed and his lips forming a thin line you wouldn't have never guessed he was so focused.

You are watching him from the door of the living room with his shirt on and slighlty disheveled hair tucked behind your ears, your lips curled into a smile while the fingers of your right hand unconsciously go to play with the engagement ring on the left one. Your eyes follow your own movements for a few seconds before hearing a soft rustle against the fabric of the couch that brings you to look at your fiancé again, he is still looking the tv but his lips are shaped into a small smile and his arms are uncrossed, one tapping against his thigh repeatedly and the other is laid out on the cushions for you to take. You swiftly pad towards him and take his left hand in yours, letting him help you climb on his lap like it's the hardest thing you have to do; he kisses your hand before letting you unwrap yours from his to let you hug his neck with both arms, your head falling in between them and against his throat while he caress your thighs with both hands, your chests pressed together and your legs on both sides of him. 

You both stay silent for a few minutes, the tennis ball being hit over and over and the claps of the people on the tv were the only sounds you could hear along with the gentle breathing of Art under you. 

“You did great today” you mumble against his throat before kissing it. 

“Only because you were there” he replies, his hands moving in up and down motions on your legs “didn’t feel like losing in front of you” you smile and lean back to look at him. 

“You would have been great even then” he finally tears away his eyes from the tv and looks at you, eyes softening seeing your messy hair and droopy eyes caused by the two hours nap you two had.

“I think you're slightly biased” he teases and, while you reach behind you to take the remote from the table in front of the couch, his hands wraps around your middle to prevent you from falling.

You pause the match “I’m just honest, the fact that I’m your fiancée doesn’t have anything to do with my opinion about your game” you turn back to him and comb his blond hair with your fingers. 

“Sure it doesn’t” he sarcastically mumbles while his head drops against your chest in a relaxed way, his arms squeezing around you even tighter making your back arch and chest press more against his face. 

“What do you want to eat? I was thinking we could stay here and order takeaway” your fingers massage the nape of his neck and head. 

“Hamburger sounds nice” he mutters sleepily and you chuckle. 

“You'll have to keep this from your nutritionist” a groan came out of his mouth and a mumbled ‘let’s not talk about my job anymore’ vibrates in your chest. 

“I'll have to find a way to burn the calories quickly though, any idea?" He playfully bites your neck, you shudder taking his face between your hands “i might have a few...” and start to kiss all his face except his lips while he sits there with his eyes semi-closed, his head nuzzles the palm of your left hand. 

“You’re so pretty” he whispers “i really want to kiss you right now” goosebumps takes all over your body and your heart misses a beat, he knows what effect this phrase has on you… it was the same one he said your first date. 

For a moment you went back to 7 years before in your college days: when you were pressed between the passenger door of his car and his body after a walk on the beach, his jacket wrapped around your shoulders and your high-heels in one of his hands while the other had your fingers tangled together, and he whispered the same phrase that made your heart jump and goosebumps rise in the same way it did now. 

“Please do” and he does. 

━━━•❃°•°❀°•°❃•━━━

[blackyote]

Luffy literally like, yeah? 🤨 I do all the time?? 🤨

[she-posts-nerdy-stuff]

I will never actually recover from the line “She was the Queen of Mourning, and in its depths she would never drown” from Nina in Crooked Kingdom (chapter 34) and how FREAKING GENIUS AND EVIL IT WAS

[hannahbarberra162]

I was wondering if you could do an SFW Alpha!Marco x Omega!Reader ABO Drabble? I don’t know if you would do a soft power dynamic between the two, where Reader is under Marcos Division. They have a big fat crush on them but low-key refuse to acknowledge it until they’re stranded on an island together. Reader goes into heat and usually they would just power through it in their own or ask Tate for suppressants. However no one is available and Marcos the only one around that catches it before Reader gets hunkered down. He goes into Mother Hen mode cause, Y’know he’s their division commander and wants to make sure they’re okay, however reader gets flustered and it’s just angtsy sweetness

Soda licious, Nonnie. I absolutely love this idea….. I think I kept the gist of what you were looking for. Hope there’s enough angst for you <3

I’ve been thinking about a night nurse reader for a long time but didn’t know where to put her - I was originally going to pair her with Haruta… BUT

Imagine you’re an Omega in the First Division...

~~~

“Tate, I don’t think I can stay on the ship anymore,” you lamented to your friend, tossing back another shot. It was Girl’s Night on the Moby, meaning you had a rare opportunity to spend some quality time with Tate. All the nurses were hanging out in the galley, which was closed off to the men of the crew. You enjoyed the monthly girls nights for the atmosphere and time spent with your friends and coworkers, especially your old friend Tate. As the night nurse, you didn’t see her much except for an hour a day when your shifts overlapped in the morning and evenings. Tate had hired you to run the infirmary at night so everyone else would feel secure enough to get a good night’s sleep.

You’d met Tate long ago, the two of you bonding in nursing school over a shared interest in helping those less fortunate. You’d become study buddies and had been friends ever since. Over the years as your lives had taken different turns you’d kept in touch, keeping each other up to date on the adventures you’d taken.

Not that you had been helping the unfortunate, it turns out you needed to take a regular job to earn a living. Before working for Whitebeard, you had been the ship nurse for Doflamingo. The gig had been alright but really boring as Doflamingo didn’t sail very often. Save for the few times a year he left for Warlord meetings, you spent most of your time on the ship doing nothing and waiting around. You didn’t renew your contract with the Warlord and were taking short term jobs at different hospitals when you’d gotten a letter from Tate inviting you to be the night nurse for the Whitebeard Pirates.

After interviewing with Tate and Marco, you accepted the unconventional job and you’d been with them ever since. It was interesting, fun, and there was always something going on with 1,000 wild pirates on board. In terms of clinical care, you enjoyed your work and found tending to the Emperor’s crew to be rewarding in its own way. You enjoyed interacting with Whitebeard, the old man reminding you of your own grandfather who you missed dearly. No, the problem wasn’t with the job or the crew, you thought to yourself.

“Why do you wanna leave me? I thought you liked it here,” Tate whined, grimacing as the bite from the vodka hit her throat. Tate wasn’t using a chaser, the two of you already a few drinks into the night. Not that it was a problem, you’d both given your livers quite the workout during nursing school.

“I do like it here, it’s a great job but -” you started, trying to break the news gently.

“It’s Marco, isn’t it? I knew it, I knew you liked him. You’ve got good taste, he’s a catch. You don't need to leave because of some crush," Tate said with a smirk, making you choke on the beer you were drinking between shots.  The Commander in charge of the First Division was...something else. He was smart, kind, charming, and an incredible doctor. His handsome smile disarmed you daily as you passed off the patient reports to him at shift change. He treated you like an equal, not like a lowly Beta nurse as you’d come to expect from Alpha doctors. His scent was amazing, better than anyone you’d ever been around before. And yes, you could admit to yourself that he was stunningly handsome. You weren’t sure what lucky star he’d been born under to make him such a perfect person. 

“No, it’s not that. I don't have a crush on him, I just don’t know if I can keep this up,” you said, motioning to your whole body.  Marco was one thing, but you’d worked with intelligent and sweet doctors before. No, the bigger issue was that you were an Omega. It was well known on the seas that Whitebeard didn’t allow Omegas onto his crew, not even among the nurses. He said that they caused nothing but trouble as their scents and heats would throw the crew into chaos. And so it had been…until you’d come around. Tate begged you, literally on her knees, to join the crew. She said there wasn’t anyone else she trusted to take care of the crew at night, that she couldn’t sleep at night over worry for the patients, that you were the only person who could fill the job. She said she’d keep suppressants secretly stocked on the ship and that no one would ever know. You thought it was a bad idea to disobey an Emperor’s command but the offer of working with Tate on the ship was too alluring to turn down.

Month over month you took the suppressants to dull your heat down to an unpleasant sensation similar to period cramps. It messed with your head sometimes but overall the medications were working. None of the many Alphas on board smelled your heats or tried to scent you and they treated you like any other Beta. It was kind of freeing in a way, not to be taken less seriously because of your designation. Omegas were thought to be flighty, vapid, and childish, even if it wasn’t true. You were finally getting a taste of what it would have been like to be born as something other than Omega and you'd been enjoying it.

The suppressants worked but the stress you felt every month was overwhelming. You didn’t want to have to answer to Marco in case they ever failed. You started having stress dreams about going into heat and someone finding out, the Captain making you walk the plank to your demise because you were an Omega. Knowing Whitebeard's personality you didn’t think it would happen but ultimately he was a powerful pirate who answered to no one. So even though you enjoyed the work, you didn’t think you’d renew your contract with Tate. You just couldn't take the stress of hiding your dynamic from Marco anymore.

“Oh, come on. No one knows and no one will ever know. The meds work just fine and besides I don’t think anyone would care at this point. You’ve saved me n’ Marco so much anxiety by being here that Whitebeard would make an exception for you,” Tate explained, already eyeing the bottle of vodka for another shot.

“I don’t know, I think it also does something to me. Y’know, avoiding…that for so long,” you said quietly, indicating your heat. Suppressants weren’t meant to be taken long term and you’d already been on them for six months, you needed to take a break or they’d stop working. You’d have to pay the piper and suffer through another heat. You didn’t know where you’d do it - you’d have to find some island far away from anyone on the ship that might know you. 

“Just do it on the next set of islands - there’s a huge city filled with all kinds of people on the main one but you can rent private cabins on the smaller surrounding islands. If you’re missing from the crew no one will notice with so many people and smells around. Rent a cabin room and find some rando to help you. I’ll cover for you, say you need a break from the crew if anyone asks,” Tate argued, filling your shot glasses again. You hummed, mulling over the idea in your head. It wasn’t a bad plan and you hadn’t had a break from work in months.

“Alright, that might work. Let’s think through the details tomorrow - after these SHOTS!” you finished with a whoop, causing the other nurses to woo their enthusiastic reply. You’d deal with all your Omega problems in the morning, it was time to have fun with your friends. 

A few days later you came around to Tate’s idea. The Moby docked at a densely populated island known for its nightlife and partying. Surrounding the main island were quieter islands known for their tranquility and privacy. No one was likely to find you during your leave, you’d booked a solo cabin on a small island. You were spending a ton of money on the cabin and you didn’t think the other crew would bother spending their hard earned wages on something that they couldn’t drink.

You were preparing to leave the ship, making sure your notes and reports were all finished when you felt someone looking over your shoulder. Glancing up, you saw the beautiful blue eyes of the First Division Commander and became flustered.

“Oh, h-hi. I’m just wrapping up, I have um - well, you know, you approved it -”

“Shore leave,” Marco finished your sentence with a lazy smile. He glanced down over your notes from his high vantage point and leaned over your shoulder. Your face burned with a flush as he took the pen from your hand and crossed out a word in your report and rewrote it from behind.

“You accidentally wrote carotid with two ‘r’s. I’m a stickler for spelling,” Marco said, putting the pen back in your hand. You hadn’t moved an inch, the heat and proximity of his body throwing your senses into overdrive. If Marco stayed for a moment longer you were going to combust from all the blood rushing to your face.

“Whatever perfume you’re wearing for your trip is becoming yoi,” Marco said with a tilt of his head and a smile, straightening up and walking away. You felt sweat dripping down your back from sudden stress- you weren’t wearing any perfume. You’d stopped your suppressants that day in anticipation of going into heat for the next few days but you hadn’t expected your scent to begin to come on so strongly so quickly.

“Uh, t-thank you Mar- Commander. Commander Marco,” you stammered, trying to end the conversation so you could get away from the ship full of Alphas.

“Just Marco is fine. I’ll be on shore leave too, maybe we can meet up for a drink?” His tone was calm but his eyes held a fire in them that you couldn’t identify.

“Ah, oh. Um, I’m gonna be busy, I have to - um…I’m busy,” you trailed off, not wanting to tell him the reason you’d declined. If he asked you a second time you felt like you’d fold immediately, telling him anything he could ever want to know about you. 

“Of course, maybe another time then yoi,” he said easily, unwinding his stethoscope from around his neck to continue working. 

“Y-yeah, another time,” you said, still blushing.

You practically threw your notes at Tate to get away from Marco as you left the infirmary that morning. Any other time you might have considered his offer to get a drink but today was not happening. You were already tired from working the night before and you still had a ways to go before you could rest. The urge to nest was building in you, you could hardly stand being on the dinghy to the island with the Alphas and Betas on the crew. It felt like it took an eternity to get from the ship to the little island with the cabin you’d rented. You were bursting with the need to arrange the clothes you’d brought with you as you disembarked on the tiny island. You were walking on the path to your cabin when a familiar bird landed on the dock of the island and transformed. You felt the blood drain out of your face as you ducked and tried to hide behind a tree from your Commander. It didn’t work as Marco spotted you right away and waved. Cursing in your head you couldn't think of a way to get rid of him without at least speaking to your boss.

He began walking over to you with a smile but it faltered into something more serious as he sniffed the air. Tilting his face and looking about, he quickly located what he was looking for - you. He walked briskly over to you in long strides, his brow furrowed as he continued to take deep breaths through his nose.

“Come along,” Marco said calmly like he was talking to an errant child, taking your forearm in his large hand. You bristled at the contact, hoping he was just smelling your stronger scent like in the morning, not reacting to you going into heat. Maybe he was just upset that you’d turned him down for a drink saying you were busy and found out you were alone on a vacation island instead. There was no way he should know you were going into heat this early, the suppressants should hold you over for a few hours until you had time to make your nest.

“W-wait, I need to get to my cabin, I rented -” you tried to object weakly.

“No, you’ll stay in mine, I rented the only other cabin on the island. It’s bigger and has better accommodations. I need a break from my siblings every now and again yoi. I didn’t expect you to be here - and going into heat,” Marco said with a pointed look as he pulled you towards the larger cabin. Your hopes were dashed along with your future - you hung your head as you continued to trail behind your Commander, tears falling unbidden down your cheeks. Finally reaching the little house, Marco opened the door and pushed you gently inside. When the door shut, your fingers itched to begin making your nest in the bedroom, wherever it was.

Marco was right, his cabin was way better than the one you had rented. It had two bedrooms, a full kitchen and a huge claw footed bathtub. You hadn’t had a bath since you’d joined the Whitebeard Pirates and the thought of soaking in hot water was enough to make you swoon. But you had to deal with Marco first, your Commander looking at you sternly as you set your bag on the floor.

“How long do you have until your heat comes on?” Marco asked with concern. He was standing in front of you as you studied the floor at his feet. You couldn’t make eye contact with him right now, it was too overwhelming. He was your boss, your Commander, and the only Alpha in the room and you didn’t want to make things worse.

“It’s supposed to come in about two to three hours,” you whispered. Marco tutted at you, wiping your tears off your cheek with his thumb.

“And what was your goal yoi? To have it here, alone on the island? What if another Alpha smelled your scent and tried to get to you? What if the pain became too unbearable and you suffered? Not a very good plan.” he said, chastising you gently while cupping your cheek. The heat building in you had you wanting to nuzzle into his hand but you were able to stop yourself - for now. You took a deep breath and held it to calm yourself down.

“I didn’t - wasn’t - I’ve been on suppressants,” you stated plainly, glad to be done lying to Marco. 

“I figured that out yoi. I won’t help you through it if you don’t want me to. But I’d like you to stay here where I can keep you safe. I would feel…neglectful if you were hurt during an unattended heat,” he said, stroking his fingers along your cheek.

“Because you’re my Commander?” you asked in a whisper.

“Something like that. Go on now, make your nest,” Marco replied, picking up your bag and handing it to you. You grabbed it with both arms, clutching it to your chest. What you really wanted was the shirt he was wearing and his sash - you needed it for your nest. Maybe you’d ask later but for now you were already ashamed enough at being caught lying to the Emperor and being caught going into heat by your boss. You didn't know what the punishment was going to be but your mind was already clouding with the heat. Scurrying along, you quickly found the bedroom and threw your clothes on the bed. You didn’t have much time before you were hit by the pain of heat onset, you had to hurry. 

You felt Marco watching you from the door frame as you stripped the bed of its blankets and pillows to move them around. Sniffing through the room, you tossed out the rank decorative pillows into the hallway.

“Do you need anything else? Any more linens?” Marco asked, still watching you.

“Ah, no. I think I brought enough,” you said, staring at his sash. Following your gaze, he removed his sash wordlessly and handed it to you with a soft smile. You flushed furiously but took the garment, barely able to stop yourself from putting it over your face to bask in the scent.

“And did you bring ibuprofen for when the pain starts?” Marco asked as you worked his sash into your half built nest.

“It doesn’t help much,” you said while arranging the sheets into a new formation. Marco hummed and continued to watch you. Having him observe your process was even more nerve wracking than it usually was to go into heat. Part of you wanted to tell him to leave but another part was preening for the Alpha in the room. Pushing off the wall, Marco walked towards you slowly. You watched him warily, putting down the shirt in your hands.

“What?” you asked suspiciously as he approached you.

“It’s alright, I’m not going to yell at you. I’m disappointed you hid the truth from me but now’s not the time for that discussion. We can talk it all through later. Tell me what you need, little Omega.”

You cleared your throat and looked up at the handsome doctor. He was watching you with concern, like you were something precious about to shatter. No one had helped you in so long, you'd been taking care of yourself for years. Maybe just this once you could depend on someone else, on someone you knew you could trust.

“I need you, Marco.”

[toomanyteefs]

You just know Nari and the Lamb fight like an old married couple (i.e. all day long), meanwhile Aym and Baal live as a captive audience.

Bonus:

[finn95o]

Finally coloured it🙌

I can’t do backgrounds, someone save me…

[mmandibles]

“Ahahaha, oh my god, you’re so brave and cool and hot, Usopp-senpai~” —Bartolomeo, definitely

[batfambrainrotbeloved]

Based on a comment on my fic-

The fic- "The Drakes Spoiled Brat (im sorry dad)"

Check my other posts for more info, but link below

[leobashi]

Henrik requests

[maxedry-art]

'This is a bad idea.'

'When has that ever stopped me?'

Actual screenshot:

[moonylouwho]

in a way, this season of 9-1-1 is a tv show’s version of a fix-it-fic

[onceandfuturelesbian]

merlin: uh, we’ve actually been married for two years.

uther, eyes bulging, brain blue screening: hUH?

in which, uther is not homophobic or a terrible parent or an asshole, just Confused And Shook™️

i’m picturing this in modern setting but works for canon era too

maybe he hadn’t known/realized arthur was into men. maybe he thought they’d only been together a few months. idk

OR

in which uther was a terrible parent and arthur cut him off when he was grown and slowly realizes how bad he was and tries to get better but doesn’t reach out to arthur cause he can’t find him or doesn’t think arthur would want him to, idk. uther and merlin meet and get along well and merlin casually mentions his partner sometimes and uther doesn’t put the pieces together until merlin refers to arthur by name and uthers like wait a second. they figure out together that merlin is with uther’s son and uther asks how long they’ve been together (assuming maybe like a year or so) and merlin reveals they’re married and uther goes through his whole grieving-his-relationship-with-his-son thing and how he missed so much aka seeing his son happy on his wedding day. maybe they have a reunion ?? and it goes well ?? idfk

this prompt DEFINITELY works better in a modern setting though

[unch4rtedwxters]

reading negative reviews on the pjo show for funsies is a wild ride

like what is this guys spelling (this one is one star) (there's so many one star reviews it makes me sad)

[chelsiegeorgia]

Trying out a new colouring style QwQ

[surplus-of-sarcasm]

Bloody Love Letter

The overdue fluff (I tried, okay?) snippet for @thelazywitchphotographer

TW: Blood, murder mention, knife mention

To most people, the sound of footsteps padding across asphalt in the middle of the night would have been worrying, but Villain didn't exactly fit into the category of 'most' people. Besides, these particularly heavy footsteps were dragging across the street slowly, probably belonging to a drunkard, all the more reason for her not to give a damn.

Still, she decided to humour her unfortunate stalker, turning around to face them, the expression on her face something between irritable and smug, one dark eyebrow arched and a very slight upturn of her lips.

The familiar mask that she was so used to wearing seemed to practically melt into nothing as she realised who the footsteps actually belonged to: Civilian. The man was dressed in his usual business casual, a pair of jeans and a white shirt, except this time, it was more of a shredded rag of blood-stained fabric than a shirt.

Scratches and bruises littered his face, dark crimson encrusted on the corner of his lips, and he was also sporting a black eye. Except the civilian was unfazed in the slightest, as though this was some sort of everyday occurrence. "I'm sure you've seen a lot worse," he remarked casually in response to the look of utter shock the villain had failed to hide, her eyes going wide.

"What happened?" she questioned, as the muscles of her face worked to pull it into a neutral expression.

The civilian snorted incredulously. "I skipped my skincare routine, so I don't look as pretty as usual," he retorted, his lips stretched into something between a smirk and a dark scowl.

This was the kind of insolence that the villain would kill people for, but Civilian had been sharp enough to notice he was an exception, an idea that was frankly poisonous to the villain. She wished to remind him exactly just how dangerous the game he was playing was, but in his current state, it really didn't seem like the time.

So, she simply ran a hand down her face exasperatedly, "Who did this to you?" she demanded, a slight edge of well-concealed anger to her tone that she knew the man would catch.

"What I did to him. You should've seen the other guy." He grit his bloodstained teeth in a feral grin, an expression the villain had never known he was capable of, thanks to his usually mild-mannered nature.

The villain sucked in a sharp breath, folding her arms across her chest. Whatever had warranted this kind of reaction from the civilian was definitely terrible.

Or maybe, if his words and cocky attitude weren't misplaced, this was an indication that the man was a lot more dangerous than he'd seemed, and she just wasn't entirely pleased with that conclusion.

"Alright, hotshot. What did you do?" she challenged, her own piercing blue eyes trained on the civilian's sage green ones, trying to stare through him as though he was no more than a sheet of paper, as though something in his resolve would crumble.

It was the civilian's turn to take in a heavy, measured breath, his gaze refusing to meet the villain's. He seemed almost lost, for lack of a better word, worrying his lip between his teeth, his smug attitude crumbling incredibly fast. "I- killed him," he admitted, trying hard to hide the solemness in his tone with a matter-of-fact intonation, a poor cover-up he failed to paint over the nervousness.

The civilian was never the type to take risks. Before he'd met the villain, he was as cautious as could be, a normal man with a normal job who lived in a very normal neighbourhood. Or that was what the criminal had took him for at first, until she'd found out that this was merely the tip of the iceberg. The civilian had gotten tired of trying to glaze over every side of him with well-fabricated normalcy.

But to confess to murder? That was lightyears away from "trying to change things", from driving a little faster than he was used to or any of the new things he'd done after he'd known her. If there was any shred of his old self, of any basic common sense, he should've already noticed by now that there was a great chance he'd ruined his life, shredded it to pieces.

"Why?" she asked, voice barely above a whisper, instinctually feeling like she would despise his answer.

This time, there was no hesitation in the civilian's tone. "He said he'd go after you. Said he'd hurt you, and I wasn't giving him that chance. Consider it my bloody love letter," he half-snarled, his fists clenched and the muscles of his face taut with conviction.

The villain tried for a few false starts, only for nothing to come out, her lips left parted in surprise. 

At that, the civilian's expression softened into something she'd never seen before, into something she realised she wished to see more often, something that lit up his features beautifully. 

The civilian was a good-looking man, in a strangely dishevelled sort of way. Dark, wind-ruffled hair with very slight flecks of grey and unwaveringly bright tourmaline eyes that never seemed to dim no matter how exhausted he was. Surprisingly, the crimson streaked across his face seemed to highlight the high-set cheekbones; somehow rendering his current frazzled state even more beautiful than what he usually looked like.

And the realisation that she found the civilian attractive seemed to hit her like a freight train, as did any wave of strong emotion she wasn’t accustomed to. Still, the lingering tension in the air as he crossed the distance between them was very palpable.

“I love you.” The soft smile he gave her at her expression of surprise was equal parts cruel as it was kind. The villain had never been the oblivious one, the shocked audience of a plot twist. So openly vulnerable with someone who downplayed his own cleverness more often than not as a protective tactic.

But she wasn’t exactly sure she hated it. Quite the contrary. She’d evaluated their relationship as that of two unlikely friends aware of each other’s attractiveness and no more, something surface-level and entertaining, but she’d come to realise in that moment, that she’d been wrong. 

“I love you too,” she offered as the civilian’s surprisingly warm fingers skirted across her hand, and Villain tentatively got closer, her lips pressed to his jawline, almost fitting there perfectly. She didn’t mind the blood on her mouth, she probably didn’t even notice as the civilian pulled away for a moment, her breath catching in her throat until he got closer again, a soft, almost high-pitched laugh of euphoria escaping his lips as they made contact with the crown of her hair, velvet-soft and blissfully cool against her skin.  

“Do you trust me enough to let me take you home so I can fix you up?” she asked.

He pulled away again, a wild, wolfish look in his eyes. “You know, I didn’t even need a knife to kill him,” he answered cryptically, except between the two of them, this was a clear enough response.

✨Timeskip✨

"Just one more left," she said placatingly.

"Well it burns," he hissed, pulling himself away from the cloth soaked in antiseptic near his face, and yet he made absolutely no effort to stop her from pushing him down on her lap again, unless you considered a petulant mock-pout an effort.

"I'm sure you've seen a lot worse," the criminal replied swiftly, quoting him from earlier with her lip curling upwards subtly as she wiped away the last of the blood and dirt on him. The civilian looked significantly younger with all the gunk off, the white hairs seeming to have shown up prematurely, with him being so stressed half the time.

Except right now, he sported a lazy half-smile, looking at her admiringly through half-lidded eyes, lashes so enviously long they fell against his cheek when he blinked. He lifted himself upright, easily pulling her into his lap and tracing the shape of her cheekbone with his finger and then slowly kissing it. "It's never been fair, how gorgeous you've always looked, but now that you're mine, maybe it is, only slightly more just," he crooned, kissing the other cheek with a haunting gentleness that made it seem impossible that he could've killed someone, but with enough passion to prove the previous assumption incorrect.

The villain hummed thoughtfully, pulling him even closer somehow and running her fingers through his hair, smooth like strands of silk now that he'd showered. She felt him shiver, knowing full-well he was touch-starved, "It's alright. You'll get used to it."

"I will," he replied with a smirk, except he leaned further into the touch as she ran her hands through his hair and down to his shoulders, still unaccustomed but the small smile on his lips as he closed his eyes indicated his approval of the touch.

Love is not as concrete as we like to believe. It is certainly senseless to try and learn the exact mechanisms of it because only a fool would wish to learn of something that does not exist and never could. And sure, it is a terrifying product of fate, an outcome of a game where you can only control half of the moves, but still, love is such an awfully human quality; just as wild, just as unpredictable and just as beautiful. It holds the power to draw blood, to start fires but also to bring the taste of euphoria to your lips better than any drink or drug could ever hope to.

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