#now excuse me while i go back to resting for all eternity

[74thcookie]

CondensedMilkAU

The condense milk is stuck in my head but I imagine this goes is mini arcs and we’re just in the BlueberryMilk Arc

This AU I’m pretty sure others already had a similar concept but this one primarily focuses on the Sage of Truth, juggling his duty as the Sage and a “mother” of two young cookies while also fighting with his burnt out from both his passion for the truth and his loneliness.

Nutshell of the Arcs:

Burnt Out

This is the beginning of SoTs crash out phase in where he left like he knows too much and is tired of answering others question. He almost fallen to the deserve for something more fun like deceit, he remember Truthless Recluse and what he became. He then tries to take a break from being a Sage and files for leave, his wise enough that rest is essential even if they’re immortal.

Escapism

He uses his “leave” to observe ordinary peoples life is like, he begins to envy their easy life. He then question himself if it really is easy, if their life really is easy as he proclaimed so he had an idea

Eyes of a liar

He disguises himself as a regular blueberry cookie with a simple back story. He struggled a lot being a regular citizen while pretending to be clueless but his charms manage to make the folks familiar with him easily. He is now one with the townsfolk and is nickname as the Mommy figure due to him accidentally lecturing some people with wisdom accidentally from time to time but they think it’s just “her” kind and caring nature hitting in and not him being smart

HonestFacade

During his time as a regular blueberry cookie he stumble upon a young black sapphire cookie who is working as a shoe shiner, he and the cookie bonded over the fact they love gathering information from clients and agree “all knowledge is good knowledge”. When the Sage warm up to the young cookie he then decided to adopt him and his sister. Though initially black sapphire rejects it and had a debate with the Sage, he lost that debate and the Sage was victorious. Black Sapphire didn’t really feel bad losing but relief he finally have some help with life and he can have some free time for once.

Blueberry Milk

When SoT sees the posters from his actual town of their concern as to where their Sage went, that’s where he realized his been gone for almost a year. He cant abandon this new life he made or his duty as Sage but he scuffs thinking he can balance both of this life with magic but his body seems to feel like it’s not ready to return… yet he has to.

He returns and people celebrate his return but that’s where black sapphire also connect the dots together about his mama. He knows for a fact his mama is hiding something and she is smarter than she let on. The young cookie is good at reading people and now that it makes sense these two are the same person, he now feels not betrayed but intrigued.

He also told Candy Apple cookie because shes a simp for the Sage and she goes nuts but agrees to remain quiet about knowing the truth for the Sages sake.

The events of the HonestFacade Arc made the Sage a bit open to new questions, having the value of time in his mind and unfortunately insecurities he didn’t realize he had like “Once the kids are all grown up or..crumble of old age. Who am I going to share my life with?”. His new thoughts of eternal loneliness begins to plague his usual routines.

And thats about it. I only made this to have an excuse to draw a tired SoT or soon to be wrecked or comfort SoT. Please don’t kill me

Also bonus:

[kr-starz]

Timebomb but I don’t think of smut or making out while they’re alone in Jinx’s room. I think of soft touches while they’re down there. The small way that Ekko uses the back of his finger to remove any of her runny makeup. Tracing his fingers along her cheek and cupping her face. Jinx looks at him with half lidded eyes, her hand on his wrist and she just pushes into it a little. She can feel herself getting more tired as the seconds pass, yet she wants to feel this just for another minute, maybe eternity. Being held so gently like she’s something worth protecting.

I think that after Ekko’s fixed Jinx up, they take a long nap. Ekko doesn’t feel it but he’s tired too, Jinx is wrapped up just about to sleep while Ekko claims he has something to do and she just mumbles the quietest “don’t leave me.” And he swears he feels his heart drop. He sits down next to her, and for a moment he contemplates laying down next to her just to look over her resting face. But he doesn’t, instead he sits down next to her, close enough for her to see and touch him. She reaches out for him, “there’s enough room for two people” Ekko’s not even sure what facial expression she had when she said that since he just felt all the heat rush to his head when she said it. He’s tempted to mumble an excuse, but he doesn’t. Instead he repositions himself, they’re facing eachother and she’s in his arms. They’re tired and battered, losing everything except each other. And everything feels like a blur to Ekko, the girl in his arms doesn’t feel real, she seems like she’s going to slip away from him if he blinks, he feels like this moment is going to be lost to him if he closes his eyes. He holds her tight. Her heads pressed against his chest and this is the most closure she’s gotten in months. She doesn’t want him to ever let go.

I don’t think they kiss, I think Ekko tells Jinx about how they were in love in another universe, one where the world is kinder. He tells her how different she is, and Jinx feels like it’s impossible, yet there’s this strange yearning in his eyes when he speaks that makes it real for her. Ekko asks if she would’ve stayed in a universe where everything was better, everyone was alive and happy. (Mostly) and Jinx would shake her head, she wouldn’t trade the moments and people she’s loved here for the world, especially if Isha isn’t seemingly in it, which draws the conversation to Jinx and this little girl who was her world.

“You would’ve loved her y’know? She would’ve loved you.” She says softly, the ache in her tone when she speaks hurts. And Ekko can feel it.

“I bet I would’ve, I’m sorry I wasn’t here sooner.” He rests as hand on her back.

“It’s not your fault, you’re here now and that’s something right?” Jinx tries to reassure him, and Ekko smiles back.

“And I don’t plan to leave.” He says softly, not like last time.

[sunnyknight-original]

What Kind Of Monster Was He?

A @forgettable-au fan (colored) animatic

MINOR BLOOD WARNING!

*Was he the kind to do too much, or not enough?

…OK, SO WHAT HAD HAPPENED WAS-

I had planned to finish this into a full fledged animation, but a lot of the parts I did end up finishing just didnt live up to what I imagined…I waited for more motivation to happen, but it just didnt so HERES THE COLORED ANIMATIC CAUSE IM REALLLY HAPPY WITH WHAT I HAVE and ive sat on posting this for like a 2 weeks 😭 which is an eternity in my time

Im gonna post the unfinished “finished” part on my side account @o-sunny-day though! and probably have people yell at me cause it actually isnt that bad AND IT TOTALLY ISNT I just… art. You get it. ENOUGH YAPPING! ITS TIME TO YAP!

except not yet, MORE BACKGROUND INFO HUCDHUC- but its background info on explaining the lore…

The explaining is much less expansive than in Dear My Dear just because I didnt work on it long enough to think every bit of it through. This is just a clean, nicer looking, and colored version of the very first storyboard.

I usually think about and put more effort into the little stuff while making the FINISHED bits since ive had so much more time to think about that in all the preppin n sketching.

BUT I liked the explaining format I did for Dear My Dear so im sticking with it!

The main idea for this was to do a study of Wingdings’ character from what we’ve been given, mainly focusing in on the expectations he puts on himself because holy shit the lyrics for this works so stupidly well it makes me mad LOOK AT THIS???

its ridiculous. i love it. I didnt know Jack Stauber helped write Forgettable AU???? woww!!! ANYWHO thats the gist of it, not much context is needed past that. Onto the sillies!!!! (per usual excuse the shitty quality of the pngs idk why Tumblr does that-)

Did you know love? Will you rest in peace?

Wingdings and Sans holding hands as kids, before turning to a casket like appearance for adult WD. The flowers hes holding are pretty important too, Marigolds to represent grief, Lilys, new life, and Forget Me Nots for this lovely little line I found when looking up good flowers to use-

“a promise to always remember” ….stop that.

That actually also has a double meaning in this case too. 1, ofc the forgetting of Wingdings. But ALSO Wingdings forgetting something himself. Forgetting who he is. Almost like a Zuko ATLA situation.

Did you have a family?

Who knows where theyre parents are, but this is HAPPY TIME and we’re gonna assume they were so awesome and very kind but had to leave or went to a farm in the sky for whatever reason.

The colors here I had a lot of fun with. Their parents had warm colors but the boys have cold, still with warm accents. Its said they more or less raised each other being very independent as shown in the second part with them running out the door by themselves.

How was the view from the shelf? Did you ever believe in yourself?

Before, we started with the beginnings. The good things, the only thing Wingdings cares to even recall. Now we’re seeing his life really start to turn upside down- making first contact with The Player :D

He’s hesitant to reach out, but is intrigued, before getting a rushing revelation of his reality and how it isnt “real”

Rather than feeling crushing existential dread, he more feels pressured to be BETTER, to figure a solution, to do something. Thats what white represents here

WHAT KIND OF MILK WERE YOU?

We then switch to more examples of how Wingdings is taking this pressure (not well) The soft tones of yellow that were shown before, turn to way brighter, intensifying that feeling that he should be fine, he should be happy, drowning in success of being the Royal Scientist.

But he just desperately wants to just go back to a time of nice coldness.

The warm vs cold tones in this I had so much fun with, coldness is supposed to represent hostility usually, while warm is nice and happy. (same with Black and white. Scary, relieving,) But these points often contradict each other, its hard to tell what you’re feeling vs what you���re supposed to be feeling. Just like Wingdings!

WHAT KIND OF LIFE DID YOU LIVE THROUGH?

The white lab coats, the expectations, theyre on all of them. But Wingdings has essentially become his expectations.

He questions what life he wants to live, one being himself and alone (speaking in wingdings) or not himself and with company (speaking in a “normal” font) Still, he frames it in past tense as he believes theres no going back now, based on what he knows.

“One of the last happy moments they had together” stop that. (i cant find a link to when that was said but I know it was once, about them taking a photo together….)

DID YOUR LIFE RUN RICH WITH CALCIUM?

Calcium….bonesss :3 Hehehehdhehfhehehheheheh still dont know why he has holes in his hands so we’re movin on

DID THEY LAUGH AT YOU OR DID YOU LAUGH AT THEM?

Compared to the childhood Wingdings remembered, heres the sadder, bleaker, more realistic version. He always thought they were laughing at him but… maybe they werent.

DAIRY BELOVED. YOUR DAYS ARE GONE,

It doesnt matter now though. Because in the NOW, Wingdings has become consumed by his expectations of himself, seeing this has the “only option” to do the only thing that he feels will give his life meaning and purpose, establishing connection with THE PLAYER

But the grocery list goes on…

And yet life continues on without him, and his room is transformed into a more livable space now that someone is…living in it. Always hurts so much making the differences between Wingdings and Papyrus’ room. It feels like making something out of the man Wingdings COULD HAVE been. Because honestly thats just what Papyrus is,

Thank you to my bestie @fruitytrip for helping me with all of my art in general but especially the storyboarding on this :3 <3

[firelilyfox]

Nightmares & Soft Words

Dune : Paul Atreides x female reader

Warnings : fluff / mention of loosing someone / mention of war / teasing

You had a nightmare & Paul comforts you

(English is not my first language so please excuse spelling and grammatical mistakes)

Words : 1033

______________________________

Your breathing is shallow as you wake up in the middle of the night because of another horrible dream. Beside you lays Paul who is still peacefully sleeping. His dark curls have managed to fall all over his beautiful face and you resist the urge to touch it to remind you that you are back in reality. Weeks have passed since you were able to sleep peacefully. Too much worries and sorrows filled your mind with fear.

Fear to loose Paul. Fear to see all your friends die. Fear that this brutal war will never end. 

But you haven’t told him about any of that. Paul has such a big responsibility to carry around, that the thought alone telling him about your stupid litte nightmares was pathetic. He deserves to rest and not have to think about his girlfriend being anxious about something that hasn’t even happened yet. 

You take a last look at him and deciding to go for a litte walk through the halls of your underground home. The massive, old stonewalls always seemed to calm you down since you were a little kid. You imagined all the stories that they had been witnessed and all of the Fremen that were here before. 

Every footstep of yours sends a little echo through the empty hallways and while you let your thoughts run free, you somehow find your way to the waters of the souls that died for the greater good. Normally this place would make people sad, but for the Fremen it is a great honor to still be a part of the remaining for eternity. 

The torches on the walls flickers and their light is reflected by the water, wich made the big hall looked warm and gloomy. Before you could take a seat near the water, something catches your attention. Paul was leaning against a wall right behind you. The look on his face made you nervous. 

„Why are you up? Did something happen?“ 

He comes towards you with a frown. „That’s what I should ask you, Y/N. What are you doing here in the middle of the night?“ 

„Oh it’s nothing. I-I just needed fresh air“, you shrugged. 

Paul shakes his head with a smile of disbelief. „You are terrible at lying, love.“ He puts his arms around you and pulls you closer to him. You let him, but still trying to avoid direct eye contact. You are more than sure about the fact, that Paul would be able to see all the horrible things you dreamed about in less than a second. So you just leaned against his touch and trying your best to put on an effortlessly smile for him. 

„Really it’s nothing. Maybe I ate something wrong or haven’t drank enough. We should go back to bed.“ You are trying to get out of his grip, but instead you can feel it tightened around your waist. 

„I won’t let you go anywhere now, until you told me the truth. You seem upset and I will be dammed if I let you go back to sleep like that.“ Paul puts his finger under your chin to force you softly to look at him. That’s when you start to tear up a little. „Talk to me, love.“ 

You sigh. „I had a nightmare again.“ 

His thumb softly wipes away a tear that was rolling down your cheek. „You haven’t told me you were haunted by nightmares before.“ 

„I didn’t want to stress you about something pathetic like that. With all that is going on with the war and the revolution right now … and the Fremen seeing you as their leader … there is no room for something irrelevant like that.“ 

Paul shuts you up with a soft kiss on the lips. Your hands grabbing the thin fabric of his shirt to hold him close to you. 

„Never say something like that again or I’m forced to use the voice on you to get rid of that stupid idea that your nightmares are irrelevant or that there is no room for you coming to me with your problems.“ His words were determining but his voice sounded so very soft, that your heart melted a bit. „I couldn’t possibly do any of this … crazy Lisan al Gaib stuff without knowing that you are alright by my side.“ 

You couldn’t hold back a little smile. „You are very good at finding the right words, Usul.“ 

You using his Fedaykin-Name always had the impact of lightens up his gaze. It reminds him, that you two are very much equal and that he is a part of something worth fighting for. 

„Now tell me what this nightmares are about.“ 

And you did. You told him everything while going back to your room and he hold your hand the entire time. The words came out like a waterfall but now that you hear them out loud, they not seemed so scary anymore. You felt the moment the tension left your body when the two of you got back to bed, lying next to each other so close that no nightmare can come between. 

„If you ever have thoughts like that you need to tell me, love. It is unbearable to me if I can’t be sure, that you and that pretty little head of yours are doing okay.“ He tapped his finger against your forehead. „Do you understand?“ 

„I do understand. But for now…“ You say while you sit up again and take a seat on his lap with spread legs. Paul leaned back on his forearms, admiring you as if there is nothing more beautiful in this world. And to him, there is none. „For now my head is doing more than just okay.“ 

He gives you a little smirk. „That’s good to know. Maybe there is a way we could make your body feel the same way.“ Paul grabs your hips and you start kissing him passionately while your fingers run through his hair. A dark sound escapes his throat as you are slowly moving your hips to create pressure to his growing length between your legs. 

„We should figure out how good you can make me feel, Muad’Dib.“ 

————————————-

⏳Paul Atreides Masterlist ⏳

[seokari]

He doesn't know what his true feeling are.

Note𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅: Remember that english is NOT my first language so please, excuse my spelling mistakes ♡.

Warnings₊‧: None, just fluff and I think there's no angst, or maybe just a little bit, so, please enjoy.

Accepting his feeling was a no go for megumi, and there's the problem, he knows he isn't good at expressing himself, but he doesn't even wants to try.

And, another problem is that you don't know this, so, he trying to be nonchalant to you made you think he hates you.

When you hang out with your friends, there was Megumi talking peacefully to the rest of them but ignoring you completely, even tho you tried making a conversation.

On mission, he just said you don't need to go do the work because you are going to be a bother for him. (You ended up saving his dumb, egocentric ass)

On training, he says he doesn't want a vs with you because you are too weak for him. (He's trying to sound interesting plus he is really afraid of hurting you by accident).

One time you fell asleep on his shoulder, and he pushed you until you were sleeping seated, he didn't wanted you to think he has a sweet spot for you, but he does.

He knows that, even tho he is an asshole to you, he has your attention. Or well, he had, once you had enough of his demeanor, you started ignoring him, acting nonchalant, being more friendly, touchy, even flirty with Yuuji, and, he (Megs) didn't like, not even a bit.

-------------

You two could be joking during a mission while Nobara did something else, but Megumi's hot gaze was set on you two.

He tried convincing himself that he hated your laugh, but he didn't, he hated that you were laughing at other man's comment, not his.

Until he had enough, "Could you two shut up already, we are trying to concentrate" His brows furrowed.

"I didn't said nun" Nobara spoke.

"Ok, geez, I don't know why you hate me so much" You said.

"I d-dont ha-" He was interrupted

"Hey look here, I think I found it" Nobara pointed

-------------

Yuuji noticed Megs behavior, his suddenly annoyed face when you were near him (Yuuji), so Yuuji started getting away from you (not that much, just being less touchy and stuff), you noticed this and thought he hated you too now.

But he reassured it was nothing.

Yuuji decided to have a conversation with Megumi about his demeanor towards you, Megumi really denied it at first, but after listening to Yuuji's yapping for what seemed like an eternity, he started believing it.

You were a little bit far away from them talking and messing around with Nobara, Megumis soft look has being around your during all the convo with Yuuji.

He started thinking "stupid" things meanwhile, like how is you skin so porcelanic, how soft your hair looks, that dumb smile you have when Nobara said something that seem funny made you look cute, and your hands looked so tiny, how are they compared to his?. He couldn't deny it anymore, he felt, hard, he felt really hard.

He turned his head towards yuuji that is still yapping. "Im an idiot right? Is the first time I feel like this"

"Yeah. I mean kinda-" He kept quiet when he saw Megs serious face.

"Omfg" He got back on his feet. "im having a walk, and then im talking to her"

"Yeah, you should, she told me she thinks you hate her, like, extremely, like you despise her"

"Just shut up you are making it worse, what if she decides i was just being an ass and she doesn't wants to talk to me"

"I think that is what is going to happen"

"Ok, now in definitely not going to talk to her"

"I meannn" Megumi looked at him "I could be wrong"

"Kill yourself" Megumi took his things and started walking towards you.

" If that makes you happy megs" Yuuji took his things too and started walking toward nobara, you and Megumi need privacy.

--------------

Hiii, I dont know how to continue this, cuz I think it pretty obvious what is going to happen.

Confession -> is mutual -> Megumi being a complete tsundere at first -> Getting used to be around you -> Clingiest boy ever -> Happy ending.

Hope yall like it₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

[yarafic]

Imagine~ Damon is your best friend. He notices that he has feelings for you when a guy starts talking to you

No one really understood why you became best friends with the older Salvatore. Your friends thought you were mental. That being friends with Damon Salvatore will be your downfall. Even Ric, who hangs out with Damon did not approve of the relationship. He thought that you will end up getting hurt or worst killed by Damon, himself.

Nevertheless, you shook your head and told Ric that wasn't going to happen. Then he reminded you about Vicky Donavon and Rose, who both were killed by Damon. You kept shut for a minute and replied back saying that yes, Damon killed Vicky to turn her into a vampire, but Stefan ended up killing her fully at Halloween party. While Rose, he killed her so she wouldn't be in pain anymore.  Ric would roll his eyes and say that wasn't the point. You should consider stopping yourself from making excuses for Damon's actions.

Which you found that statement to be the dumbest thing that Alaric has ever said. He has done some outrageous things in his time and now, when helping Elena Gilbert. Alaric and the Scooby Doo gang are a bunch of hypocrites.  The way that they judge those that make a little mistake or who, they become friends with as well.  It feels just like yesterday when the Mikaelson's were in town, you became friends with them. Even spend most of your days hanging out and chatting about life. You got along well with Rebekah and Klaus. When Elena and the Caroline caught word of your friendship with them, they were absolutely furious. They stop talking to you for months, they even wouldn't look your way. Rebekah found it annoying that they would act like this towards you and Klaus said loudly for them to hear that your group of friends do not own you nor do they have the right to control every aspect of life.

When the Mikaelsons left Mystic Falls, your heart broke, but Klaus and Elijah said that you had a home in New Orlean's whenever you need it. Just to make sure that you do not bring any of your pesky little friends with you. It has been two years and still kept in touch with the Mikaelson family, Klaus has been pleading (more like begging) for you to come to New Orleans to meet the new edition of the family. He spoke with Hayley, that he wants you to be the godmother of their child.

Which is how you were currently standing in the middle of your room with piles of cloths all round you. Not only cloths but gifts for you godchild and the rest of the Mikaelson. To even meet Freya, the times you have been on the phone with Rebekah; you were introduced to Freya. The two of you got along so well that you are so excited to meet in person.

As you put together outfits and collect all the gifts, Damon came barging into your room. Throwing himself on your bed while making your luggage fall to the floor.

"Please be careful!" You exclaim as you pick up your cloths and luggage that he drops to the floor.

"I can't believe that you are leaving me." Damon says as he plays with one the plushies on the bed.

I'm not leaving you. I am just going to see my best friends that you hate." You murmur back to him as you fold clothes and shoving them in the luggage. You can see that you are almost done putting everything away.

"How about you take a break and let's go to the Mystic Grill." Damon suggests as he looks at you. You huff in annoyance and gave him a glare, you point at everything on the floor and replied back, "I can't leave until I finish packing everything."

Damon groans and throws a plushie at you, the plushie hits your head and lands inside the luggage. You shook his head side to side, you can't believe you have to endure him for all and eternity being friends with him. You had a feeling that you regret becoming friends with Damon Salvatore (okay that is a lie, you adore being friends with him. He has been the only one that been by your side since for ever). Maybe he is right, you have been doing this since the morning. Maybe a little the break wouldn't hurt, yet again you wouldn't have to worry if you loose your flight cause Elijah and Klaus got you a private jet to pick you up. You were hoping that one of them will be waiting for you in the jet.

"Please!" Damon pleas as he goes to his knees and begs, you stifle a laugh and moves your hands to tell him to stop. he begs even harder, you shook your head and told him to stop.

"Fine, let's go to The Grill." You replied, while dusting yourself off.

"YES!" Damon screams in joy, runs out of the room and rushing down the stairs. "Come on, I'll buy."

I bag my bag from the chair thats in the corner and walked out  of the room. I meet Damon outside and said, "Please we both know that you are going to compel the workers to get it for free and the only time you pay for anything is when Donavan works."

Damon gets up from the bar and to answer his phone. He gestures that he'll come back. You nod your head and went back on eating your fries and drink your soda.

"Hey" I heard a voice call me, I turn around to see my next door neighbor. I smiled and gave him a small wave, then turn around to face the bartender. Thinking that he will walk away, he slide across from you on the other seat.

"Did you came here alone? "He questions while startling you, placing your hand on your chest to reassure yourself. you rolled your eyes and place a sweet smile on your face, before you could twist yourself to face him. He wraps his arm around your shoulder and gives you a tight squeeze. Grimacing from the interaction, you began praying that maybe Damon could come and save you. If there is one thing that you absolutely hate is when that you do not know comes up and touches you. You only have ever allowed your friends and family to hold you in their arms or touch (in a respectable way of course). But your neighbor is not one of those people, you laughed it off.

"I'm not alone." You replied to him as you take a sip of your drink.  Your neighbor raises his brow and looks around to see your "companion".

"You know you don't have to lie to me." He says while chuckling, "you could've been honest with me. It no shame on coming here alone."

You open your mouth in shock, not this man being such an asshole. Why is Damon taking so long. Who the hell is he talking to and why of all times did they decide to talk to him at this moment.

"Tell me beautiful, what are doing here all on your lonesome."

I hold back a scoff and I have gave him a tight smile. "Like I told you before, I am here with someone but he went outside to take a call."

His grin widens and shakes his head, not believe a word that is coming out of your mouth. He raises his brow and scoffs, he wraps an arm around your shoulders. He leans in closer to you, you tried to push back but he wouldn't budge.

"Come on, baby."

"Can you remove your arm and give me space." You replied as you try to remove him from your space.

Damon walks back into the Mystical Grill, he told everyone to not call him. That he was going to spend all the remaining time with you before you left to New Orleans. But no! Little Gilbert got in trouble and they need him, so Damon replied back that in the meantime they can conjure up a plan to save Pocahontas. He will spend his time with you and personally hand you to Klaus or Elijah.

He looks at the bar to see you and a man talking. A bubble of anger burst through his chest and he began stalking towards the two of you. Why does he feel this way? He shouldn't feel jealousy towards this interaction but he does. He hates how close this man is towards you. Now that he fully opens his eyes, he could tell you uncomfortable posture. He quickens his paces and puts his hand on his arm and removes it.

"How about you step back?" Damon barks out, with a menacing look on his face.

The man stumbles aback and replies, "Leave us alone man. I saw her first."

Damon becomes with anger and pushes him away from you.

"She came with me. She is mine."

The stumbling man lands on the floor from the push that Damon gave him. He looks up to give him a glare but the Salvatore man bought out his fangs out to scare the coward. Upon seeing his face, he scuttles out in fear of The Hrill.

Damon turn to look at you in worry and begin to check for an injury.

"Are you okay?" He questions as he cups your face.

"I'm yours?"

Damon smiles and mutters to you, "Your mine and I'm yours." As he leans down to give you a kiss.

In the background you can see Matt Donovan take a picture to send to the group with a simple text saying finally!

[coulsons-fullmetal-cellist]

Your Vampire: Chapter Eight

He Loves, She Loves

(Max Phillips x f!reader)

Words: 1, 310

Summary: going back to work after such a wonderful weekend may prove harder than you thought

Warnings: saucysuggestions, the worst ex in the world, mild swearing, no y/n, reader has nickname Garland, Max being a lovable menace

Check out masterlist here

“Sure you don’t want to just take the week off?”

“Oh no, we missed one day which means I have a lot to catch up on. And we’re already in the car.”

“We could just have sex in the car and…”

You stared at Max, “We are going to work.”

“You know, you’re sexy when you’re bossy,” he leaned in, but you stopped him.

“Max, no.”

“Yes ma’am.”

The two of you were a little late getting into the office. You discovered Max was rather amorous upon waking so resisting his exquisite ministrations proved difficult. It was nice being woken up with kisses for a change. Max also turned out to be quite the cuddler. It could be something to do with his cold, undead body seeking the warmth of your warm, definitely-not-dead body.

As you always arrived together, even though you were holding hands, no one suspected the change in relationship.

“Max, you don’t mind,” you gestured down to your held hands, “this do you?”

He stopped and said very seriously, “You’re the love of my life, my soulmate, the woman I want to spend the rest of eternity with. I do not mind holding your hand.”

“Okay, just checking,” you smiled. “We can’t use cute nicknames around the office though.”

Aw,” he pouted. “But I wanted to annoy everyone with how in love we are!”

Going back to your separate work after being together all weekend felt odd. It felt lonely. You decided to look for an excuse to see him in his office. As soon as you poked your head through the door, you were immediately pulled through into Max’s office.

“I have a question about the-” you were cut off by his lips pressing into yours.

“Sorry, what were you saying?”

“Well, I was going to ask about the-” but again, he cut you off with a kiss. “Max, I have important business with you.”

“And I have very important business with you,” he tried to nuzzle at your neck, but you pushed him away.

“Max,” you said to his pouting face. “I think we should keep things professional while we’re at work.”

“And I think I should bend you over my desk and have my wicked way with you.”

“I think we need to go over the rules again.”

“I hope to go over them with you seriously,” he raised his eyebrows.

“It’s a little early, isn’t it?”

“You didn’t think it was too early when you woke up with my head buried between your legs and giving you your third orgasm.”

“That was nice, better than my alarm clock.”

“I volunteer to be your alarm clock from now on.”

“Wait, aren’t there cameras?’

“Not in this office.”

You playfully tried to resist his further advances while letting his hands wander around your body.

It was at this moment Jacob decided to walk into the office without knocking. You tried to break apart from Max, but he held you firmly by the waist.

“Oh,” said Jacob with the most obnoxious tone. “I thought banging wasn’t allowed.”

“Oh, there’s no banging…yet. And you’re one to talk.”

You left his grasp, “I’ll leave you two alone.”

“You complete me!” said Max after you.

As you started to leave the office, you tried to avoid the glare of Jacob. Max solved this by firmly grabbing him by the shoulder.

“So, I hear you’re unsatisfactory in bed. Not to brag, but I can make her scream my name with my tongue alone so imagine what I can do with my-”

“Max, no,” you warned.

“Yes ma’am.”

Retreating back to your office, you found plenty of work to get on with. You didn’t get through much when the door slammed open and Jacob stormed in.

“Max Phillips? Of all people?”

“Why do you care who I sleep with?” he looked like he was going to respond with something snarky, so you continued. “You cheat on me while I’m sick and then dump me when I get sick, so you have no right to criticise me.”

“You can’t talk to me like that.” This was a tactic he always used on you, but you were tired of this behaviour.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you said with sarcasm. “I’m sorry I’ve bruised your ego. I’m sorry you’re such a self-centred asshole that you decide to cheat on my while I’m sick.”

“Well,” he retorted. “You were distant, you wanted nothing to do with me. You were too busy to give me time.”

“Too busy? I was sick! I was busy going to doctors to find out why I was sick so sorry for not giving you some attention,” he was going to give some excuse, but you cut him off. “All I’ve done is support you. I made sure you passed every exam; I made your resume look good to get the best job. But as soon as I needed help, you abandoned me. It’s taken me this long to realise that you are a gigantic douchebag.”

This speech gave you some confidence, but now looking at the fury in his face, you were afraid. Thankfully, Max came in to save you from this monster.

“Hey J-man. I hope you’re not slacking. You still have that presentation coming up.”

Jacob attempted a stare down but had nothing on Max. He smacked Jacob on the shoulder. “There’s a good boy.”

“Whatever gets me closer to my promotion,” he tried to sound tough. “Good luck getting on the waitlist, they have strict requirements,” he walked away with unearned confidence.

“Oh, his ignorance is almost adorable,” he noticed you were trying not to shake. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine.”

He gently lifted your head with his finger, “Remember, I love you. And if he ever thinks of laying a hand on you I’ll…”

He was interrupted by a scream coming from the secretary desk. Cidnee had pushed away whatever was in front of her and rushed off to the bathroom.

“Did you add something to your sandwich?” asked Max.

“Chilli flakes,” he raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Seriously, she needs to stop eating my food.”

“I love your approach. And I love you. I’m taking you out for lunch and then later, I’m eating you out.”

“That part will have to wait until we get home.”

“You sure you don’t want to take today off?”

“Go, get back to work.”

“You’re sexy when you’re bossy.”

“Max, no.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

You held Max’s hand as you made your way to the car. The both of you were looking forward to the weekend. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Jacob leaning against the wall. He struggled to make his way over to you. You knew he had gotten back into day drinking.

“Look at the two freaks,” he slurred, putting away his hip flask.

Max put himself between you and Jacob. “I could make a joke about only being freaks in the sheets, but you wouldn’t get it.”

Jacob just stared in drunken confusion so the two of you continued to the car.

“I hope you enjoy her worthless barren body,” he called after you.

Before you knew it, Jacob was up against the wall being held up by Max, his face twisted into monstrous anger.

“You take that back!”

“Max, please,” you put your hand on his arm.

He closed his eyes, took a breath and reluctantly let Jacob go.

“You’re not worth the paperwork,” he said to a quivering Jacob.

You gently took his hand and led him back to the car. He sat for a moment before saying anything.

“Are you okay?” he asked, holding your face in his hand.

“Me? Yeah, I’m fine. What about you?”

“I wanted to punch him in the face, but he pissed his pants.”

“Good. So can we go home and cuddle?”

“Absolutely.”

Previous Next

Lovingly tagging @chaithetics @cevans-is-classic @galaxyedging @letsgobarbs @peepawispunk @missladym1981 @kirsteng42 @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi @ericamarie093 @yorksgirl @popcornforone @allthe-ships @clowncummiess @permanentlydizzy @readingiskeepingmegoing @elegantduckturtle @grogusmum @ellenmunn

[astridthevalkyrie]

a weak heart | rafayel x reader

“Let’s go all the way, tonight, no regrets, just love,” she sings, and her voice is a little pitchy but Rafayel could listen to it all day, “we can dance, until we die, you and I, we’ll be young forever!” How very wrong she is about that last part. It’s almost funny. Someone with such a weak heart shouldn’t be this cocky.

cw: reader has she/her pronouns, fluff, light angst, rafayel being bratty but also down incredibly bad

word count: 1.4k

There’s a dip in the bed that alerts Rafayel to her presence. He’d already known she was inside, even though her footsteps were hushed. He’d heard her walk in and feed Reddie, and he almost gave up the vow he made to himself not to engage with her just so he could snark about how she was more invested in seeing the fish than in seeing him.

(Of course, she very well may have gone to the studio to look for him and decided to feed Reddie while she was already in there, but. He doesn’t want to be reasonable right now. He wants to be upset with her. And she gives him so little to get upset with because she is and always has been some kind of angel descended from the heavens with an embarrassingly weak heart, so he needs to take whatever chances he can get.)

A soft touch to the back of his neck is followed by a quick kiss to his cheek. “Rafayel?”

He doesn’t answer.

“I know you’re awake, Raf.” Well, his eyes are open so. Great observation, idiot. “You’re not even gonna talk to me?”

The window he’s staring through is so fascinating all of a sudden, all bright and stale with an afternoon light he’s painted a billion times. Literally a billion. That’s how old he is. One would think he’d learned to be patient in that time, but one would also think that after waiting for a woman for centuries, she could cut him some slack and not make him wait any longer.

(Not that she knows that but. Still.)

“It was really last minute.” She kisses his cheek again, hovering over him and he wants so badly to gaze up at her, because that will be something he’s never painted before—he’d title it Requiem For A Bland Thursday and Thomas would sell it for a couple hundred million and he’d tell her that and she would only ask him to buy her a rainbow popsicle because there isn’t a greedy bone in her body.

“I was going to text, Raf, I promise I was, but I’d pulled a night shift already and my phone was dead and Xavier and I both left our chargers at home, and we didn’t have a chance to stop and charge anyways.”

Always an excuse. Always a valid excuse that he can find no fault with. But it isn’t fair. The people she works with—Tara, Xavier, Captain Jenna who she’s definitely a little in love with—get her attention and her time every hour of every day. If there’s a mission to do, she’ll drop everything and do it. And Rafayel gets the crumbs, the vacation days and the after hours, whenever she remembers him enough to spare her time.

What’s worse than that is the fear. He doesn’t let it show through text, always opting to send whatever he thinks will make her smile, but everytime hours pass without a response from her, fear seizes his poor heart. All the twisted and cruel things that could possibly happen to her start playing on repeat in his head.

“Rafayel,” she pleads, tilting her forehead against his temple. “Please, look at me?”

His chest burns hot.

When he finally looks up, he finds he’s absolutely correct in his hunch. She presents like a masterpiece, hair mussed from whatever fights Xavier clearly couldn’t protect her from. Her eyes shine tiredly, lighting up when they gaze into his. And Rafayel’s heart releases a painful thump, thump, thump because if he could spend eternity with her looking at him the way she is now, he’d easily live the rest of his immortal life the happiest person in the universe.

She leans down and pecks his lips apologetically. “I’m sorry for making you wait.”

(It’s what she always does.)

“It’s what you always do,” he says, not harsh but definitely blasé enough to make her wince. “Why should this time be any different?”

A sigh escapes her, and he starts to feel that old guilt again. To hold her up to a standard because he fell in love with two other versions of her, and to give her grief for being late as though she wasn’t doing an incredibly important job keeping people safe—it’s not exactly fair. To either of them, but specifically to her.

And yet, it’s not like he spends his time with her imagining a princess running through the sands calling his name. This version of her makes his heart pound all the same, whether she’s absolutely beating his ass at the card game in the cafe, or resting her head on his shoulder from behind while he paints, or when she’s in his bed just like this.

The biggest similarity is that damn sick bleeding heart.

“What do I need to do for you to forgive me?” She tilts his chin up with her index finger, pressing a soft kiss to his jaw. Rafayel could never imagine being spoiled like this even if he was to be sitting on the throne in Lemuria right now, with jewels and gold surrounding him and beautiful maidens offering their hands. 

Somehow, this is more. Somehow, this is better.

“There’s nothing you can do,” he answers flatly, “and there’s nothing I can do. So let me be mad at you in peace.”

Her response is to brush the bangs from his forehead and drop a kiss to his forehead as well. “You make me feel like I’m in high school all over again,” she teases quietly, a small smile playing on the corner of her lips now. “My teenage dream.”

He groans. “Don’t—“

“Let’s go all the way, tonight, no regrets, just love,” she sings, and her voice is a little pitchy but Rafayel could listen to it all day, “we can dance, until we die, you and I, we’ll be young forever!”

How very wrong she is about that last part. It’s almost funny. 

Someone with such a weak heart shouldn’t be this cocky.

“Is this my punishment?” His nose wrinkles. “To hear you sing terrible renditions of already overplayed songs?”

Her giggle is the real music to his ears. “You’re an artist, you should know talent when you hear it.”

“I do,” he insists, realizing too late that he’s giving in. The lightness in his stomach is a bit frightening too. This is the same woman who carved out his heart. This is the same woman who needed to do nothing but flutter her lashes at him to make him give in to her any request. If, tomorrow, she were to ask him to rip his own scales from his body and place the bloody pieces in her palm, he’d do so without question.

Her hand comes up to rest on his cheek and he leans into it with a soft sigh almost on instinct. Such power she possesses, over the God of the Sea, and she’s the only person who would never even fathom abusing it. 

“You’re cold,” she murmurs, caressing his cheek. “Why do you always keep your house so cold?”

(So that she can warm him up so that she can warm him up so that she can warm him up so that she can warm him up so that she can warm him up so that she can—)

“It’s better for blood circulation.”

Her thumb gently brushes over his lower lip, like she’s mapping out her quest to treasure. “That’s like, objectively not true, Raf. My friend’s a doctor, he told me that cold is better for short-term pain and warmth is better for—“

“If you’re cold,” he interrupts, “get under the sheets.”

A brilliant, blinding smile lights up her face as she does just that, slipping under next to him and laying down at a slightly elevated level so she can tuck his head into her chest. Warmth runs through him like a flood, even the leather of her uniform is comforting because it’s smooth and light and smells just like her. Her lips press to the top of his head.

“I really am sorry,” she whispers, running her fingers through his hair, “I’ll do my best to text you and let you know next time, okay?”

And if she doesn’t, Rafayel thinks, curling into her more, they will still end up like this, quiet words and mutual teasing, memories of the past that he will forever be cursed by and she will never be burdened with, a heart that dances to the tune of her commands, wrapped up in each other, and absolutely nothing will change.

Because who really has a weak heart?

(It’s not her.)

[sunsetmountainlion]

…eh fuck it, here’s definitely my most controversial Hazbin Hotel opinion and why I think it.

I don’t Adam and the exorcists are entirely in the wrong, and I don’t think Charlie is entirely in the right.

Let me explain before you go at me. Buckle up, this is a long post.

Hell is a horrible, horrible place. That’s just a fact. The worst of the worst people end up there. Rapists, murderers, child molestors, genocidal dictators, etc. It’s the place for awful people.

Heaven is the place where a lot of those people’s innocent victims would end up. Those raped and murdered, killed for amusement or because someone hated them for no good reason, who suffered because of the awful people who eventually end up in Hell.

In Heaven, the monsters who hunted and haunted them in life can’t get to them anymore. They’re safe, able to live out their eternal existence in peace and safety while those monsters…

Get to continue being monsters. Is Valentino suffering for his what he’s done? Alastor? Vox? Zestial? All of these people who did things in life so awful that it earned them Hell now get to just… continue being awful. Forever, and ever, and ever, and ever, and- you get the point. There’s no true punishment for them, because they’re such rotten people that Hell is like Heaven to them.

The longer they get to run amok, the more power and souls they can obtain. They can get stronger, and stronger, without anybody putting a cap on it. I think the angel’s fear of what could happen if those sinner’s endless hunger is turned towards Heaven is misplaced, because they’ve already shown us what they are.

Now, think about Adam. Think about being the First. The First Man, the First Human, the Father of Humanity, the one Made in God’s Image, and the First Betrayed. The First Heartbroken. The First to Watch His Child Die at the hands of one infected with the Sin that the angel he had once trusted and the first woman to betray him had let into Paradise.

He gets cast out of Eden, has to learn to survive in a world where anything could kill him and his family when he’d never known pain or hunger or cold or grief before. He grows colder, harsher, because he can not afford to be soft anymore.

He lives, he dies, he goes to Heaven. Finally, his reward. He can lay back and watch his descendants flourish as he rests.

Except… wait. That’s not what happened.

He is the First, which means he has to witness everything.

The invention of beautiful, wonderful things. Electricity, penicillin, fireworks, embroidery, space travel, books, painting, math, cars, so many incredible things. Fuck, he got to watch his descendants fly to the moon! Now they’re trying to get to Mars!

But alongside all the good, is so. Much. Pain. Genocide, poison gas, torture, the witch hunts, the atomic bomb, rape, trafficking, species he named and loved in Eden driven to extinction to satisfy that damned hunger that can never. Be. Sated.

For thousands of years he’s had to watch as more and more of humanity reached Heaven, and even more went to Hell.

If you were in his shoes, would you not be tired? Numb? Angry? Greiving? Would you not despise the ones who took paradise from your family?

I think there’s a lot more to him than the shallow image we’ve seen. There has to be. He is the First after all.

So I don’t think he and the exorcists are entirely in the wrong. I think that while there’s definitely a lot of fucked up shit they’ve done and I’m not excusing it, that ultimately yeah, they were mostly in the right. And really, is it not a mercy to some of the souls they’ve killed? Ending their eternal suffering?

Charlie has stated that it is her belief that all sinners can be redeemed, and it’s my opinion that that ideology is flawed. Because all means all. Every single one. Every cannibal, every serial killer, every rapist, every genocidal dictator, every. Single. Monster. I don’t think she has bad intentions, but I do think that she’s naive. I don’t think she’s really considered the fact that if they were redeemed than their victims who reside in Heaven then have to live with the monsters they thought they were free from for the rest of eternity.

It’s no wonder Adam doesn’t treat her seriously. She’s lived around 200 years compared to his 10,000+. To him, she must seem like a child who hasn’t grown up enough to realize that her fantasy world of sunshine and rainbows is unrealistic. She is the spawn of the two people who damned humanity, now trying to put monsters with their victims.

No wonder he was angry. No wonder he wanted her dead. No wonder he looked almost relieved when he realized he could rest now, that the weight of his children’s sins is no longer on his shoulders.

[yanderecrazysie]

Falsify (Yandere Kita)

This was requested in pms on Quotev! 

Title: Falsify

Pairings: Kita Shinsuke x Reader

WARNINGS: Yandere themes, amnesiac reader

Summary: You find yourself stricken with amnesia, but thankfully your loving husband is there for you.

falsify

/verb/

alter (information or evidence) so as to mislead

When you awoke, there was a certain blankness that you felt inside. You didn’t know where you were or even who you were.

The room you were in was small, only really fitting the bed you were lying on and an armchair next to it. The bed was soft, and you found yourself wondering who you shared it with, if there was anyone at all. You lifted your head from the pillow and winced- pain ripped through your head, making you lie back down and let out a soft cry. 

You raised a hand to your head and found bandages wrapped around it. So you had been injured? Was that why you couldn’t remember anything?

The door to the room creaked open suddenly and you jumped in surprise. A man poked his head into the room, his white-and-black hair framing worried brown eyes.

“(Y/n), how are you doing?” his voice was hesitant and quiet, as though he expected you to start yelling at him.

“(Y/n)? Is that my name?” you muttered, pressing your hand against the bandages around your head again. The man’s eyes widened and his mouth parted in shock.

“You… you don’t remember?” he asked, “Do you remember me?”

“No, I’m sorry…” you apologized, “I don’t remember anything.”

The man was quiet for a moment before explaining, “I’m your husband, Kita. You fell down the stairs and hit your head. I was so worried, I thought you had-” he choked up, eyes flooding with tears.

“I’m married?” you wondered, “But I don’t have a ring.”

“It must have fallen off,” Kita said, reaching for your hand, “If I can’t find it, I’ll get you a new one.”

You couldn’t help but notice his ring finger was bare too.

—----------------------

Kita was a doting husband, that much you could admit. He had found the ring that had fallen off your finger and, by God, it had a huge diamond.

He cooked every meal for you, bought you gifts, and took such good care of you. There was only one downside to your relationship with him.

He never let you leave the house.

You offered to go shopping with him, begged him to let you be a part of society once more, but he always had an excuse. Even though your head had healed, he insisted on you “resting”. Which basically meant staying in your room for eternity.

“Why won’t you let me leave the house, Kita?” you asked, swirling your fork through the scrambled eggs he had served for breakfast.

Kita was quiet, sitting across the oak wood table, watching you closely.

“It’s not like I’m going to run away,” you joked. Kita stiffened for a moment before relaxing.

“I know you won’t,” he responded, but offered no explanation, as always. You sighed and slid down in your seat, pushing your half-eaten meal to the side.

Kita frowned at your disappointment, “You know I love you, don’t you?”

“I love you too,” you replied, the words feeling foreign on your tongue, despite the number of times you had said it. He really was an amazing husband, even if he wouldn’t let you leave, so who were you to argue? Everyone had their flaws, Kita’s was just being a little possessive, right?

“Our anniversary is next week,” Kita said, “I was thinking we could go on a vacation.”

“Out of the house?” you gasped.

“Out of the house,” Kita confirmed with a smile. You beamed back at him, he really was the perfect husband.

To Kita, your amnesia was the best thing that had ever happened. Before your accident while trying to escape, you had been so disobedient and furious that he had kidnapped you. Now, you truly believed that the two of you were married, when that wasn’t the case at all.

All he had to do was reward you every once in a while, and you’d stick by his side forever, wouldn’t you? You’d believe his lie because he was all you had.

He could pretend to be the good guy, the loving, doting husband, when the truth was that he was a monster that had torn you away from everything you once knew.

Not that you’d ever find out, if he had his way.

[deerlino]

lost and found.

bang chan x fem!reader / you and chan are about to get married, but the day before the wedding, he just disappears. there’s a note on your bed, and from that point on, everything goes downhill.

additional tags / angst, hurt-comfort, emotional turmoil, wedding jitters, cold feet, open ending, love confessions, pre-wedding drama, visuals (text messages, letter), apologies — 963 words in total.

content warnings / abandonment, lack of communication, commitment issues, panic and anxiety (subtle), facing fears (fear of the future ?), some strong language (cussing), chan’s kind of an asshole (😅)

further notes / writing angst is so much fun, seriously my fave genre ever. 😝 been all about the fluffy stuff lately, but i had to dive back into my roots and whip up some tasty pre-wedding angst. what do you think? i'm totally loving it, heheh. hope you enjoy the ride! <3

The day before your wedding, you can’t help but feel a buzz of excitement and nervousness. You've waited for this moment for so long, and now it's almost here. You and Chan have been inseparable since you met, and tomorrow was supposed to be the start of your forever. But when you wake up that morning, something feels off.

You stretch out your hand, expecting to find Chan beside you, but the bed is cold. Frowning, you sit up, scanning the room for any sign of him. That’s when you see it—a note on his pillow. Your heart sinks as you reach for it, hands trembling.

You stare at the words, not comprehending. Had to leave? What does that even mean? Panic starts to rise in your chest as you read the note over and over again, hoping it will magically change or offer some explanation. But it doesn’t.

You grab your phone and dial his number, but it goes straight to voicemail. “Chan, what the hell is going on? Where are you? Call me back, please,” you plead, trying to keep your voice steady.

Hours pass, and still no word from Chan. You call his friends, his family, anyone who might know where he is, but no one has seen him. Every minute feels like an eternity, and the worry is gnawing at your insides.

By afternoon, your concern turns to anger. How could he do this to you? The day before your wedding, no less. You pace the living room, clutching your phone, willing it to ring. When it finally does, you almost drop it in your haste to answer.

“Hello?”

“Y/N.” It’s Chan’s voice, but it sounds strained.

“Chan! Where are you? What’s going on?” The questions spill out before you can stop them.

“I... I’m sorry, Y/N. I just... I need some time to think.”

“Think? About what? We’re getting married tomorrow!”

There’s a long pause, and you can hear him take a deep breath. “I know. I just... I’m not sure if I’m ready.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. “Not ready? Are you fucking kidding me, Chan? We’ve been planning this for months! Why are you doing this now?”

“I didn’t want to hurt you,” he says quietly.

“Well, guess what? You did hurt me. A lot. And you could’ve talked to me instead of just disappearing.”

“I’m so sorry,” he repeats, but it feels hollow. “I just... I need to figure some things out.”

You hang up, tears streaming down your face. Why would he do this to you? You feel a mix of hurt and rage, your emotions swinging wildly. Part of you wants to find him and demand answers, while another part of you just wants to curl up and cry.

The rest of the day is a blur. You cancel the rehearsal dinner, making up excuses for why Chan isn’t there. Your friends and family try to comfort you, but nothing they say can ease the pain.

That night, you lie in bed, staring at the ceiling, replaying every moment you’ve shared with Chan. You wonder where it all went wrong. Was it something you did? Something you said? The uncertainty is maddening.

The next morning, you wake up to a flurry of text messages. One stands out—it’s from Chan.

You hesitate, fingers hovering over the screen. Part of you wants to ignore him, to make him feel the pain you’re feeling. But the other part of you needs answers.

You arrive at the little park where you and Chan have shared so many memories. He’s sitting on the bench, looking more miserable than you’ve ever seen him. When he sees you, he stands up, but you hold up a hand to stop him.

“Just... explain,” you say, keeping your distance.

He takes a deep breath. “I’ve been freaking out, Y/N. The thought of forever, it just... it scared me. I started doubting everything, and I didn’t know how to tell you.”

“So you ran away instead? That’s real mature, Chan.”

“I know, I know. It was stupid. But I love you, and the idea of losing you terrified me even more.”

You can see the sincerity in his eyes, but the hurt is still too fresh. “You could’ve talked to me. We could’ve worked through it together.”

He nods, looking down. “I’m sorry. I should’ve. I was just so scared of disappointing you, of not being enough.”

You step closer, your anger softening a little. “Chan, we’re supposed to be a team. If you’re scared or unsure, you need to tell me. We face things together, remember?”

He looks up, tears in his eyes. “I remember. And I’m so sorry I forgot that. I promise, I’ll never run away again.”

You take a deep breath, the weight of the past day starting to lift. “This isn’t going to be easy, you know. We’ve got a lot to talk about, and it’s going to take time to rebuild that trust.”

“I know. And I’m willing to do whatever it takes,” he says, stepping closer.

You nod, feeling a small glimmer of hope. “Okay. Let’s start with talking.”

You spend the next few hours sitting on that bench, talking about everything. The doubts, the fears, the future. It’s raw and emotional, but it’s also healing. By the end of it, you both feel a bit lighter.

When you finally stand up, Chan reaches for your hand. “So, about that wedding...”

You give him a small smile. “Let’s take it one day at a time. We’ll get there when we’re both ready.”

And for the first time since you found that note, you believe it.

© deerlino (est. 110624) ༯ heyo, did you enjoy this piece? if you did, maybe you could reblog, drop a comment, or shoot me an ask to let me know your thoughts. also, feel free to check out my other stuff! thanks a bunch for the support! <3

[dee-writes-angst]

Mismatched Eyes Of Fire

SUMMARY It's your first day at UA, everyone you've met has seemed genuine (with the exception of Bakugo), though one person stands out against the rest, a boy with a similar fire in his eyes that you had seen in Tenko.

CONTENT WARNINGS death, depictions of homeless children, mentions of abuse, loss, memorial shrines, and grief. For the sake of the series (and my conscience), all characters are aged up while still following the plot of MHA. In other words, think of UA as a college rather a high school.

AUTHORS NOTE three consistent updates in a row?! Look at me go, guys!

SERIES MASTERLIST

Eraserhead was eerily quiet as he led you through the halls of the school you could now call home. The hallways were a labyrinth of polished floors and sleek walls adorned with inspiring posters of pro heroes. As you followed, you couldn't help but notice the grandeur of UA: high ceilings, bright lighting, and a sense of history embedded in the very walls. The hallways buzzed with energy, the chatter of students mingling with the occasional announcement over the PA system. You walked up several steps and took even more turns before arriving at a pair of grand wooden doors with a small plaque that read "Principal Nezu."

Before opening the door, Eraserhead introduced himself as Mr. Aizawa and asked that you address him as such unless out on missions. You readily agreed, feeling a wave of gratitude toward your new teacher for sticking his neck out to help you find better sleep arrangements than the cold, dirty concrete you had been sleeping on.

Aizawa had you wait outside Principal Nezu’s office for what felt like hours as he shared your situation behind closed doors. The minutes dragged on, feeling like an eternity as you rocked back and forth on your feet, growing more anxious about the whole housing ordeal. Yes, you were now a student at UA, but the school’s dorms were for general studies students and definitely cost more than you could ever dream to afford. You stared at the polished wooden door, tracing the intricate patterns in the wood grain with your eyes, trying to calm your nerves. The soft hum of voices behind the door was barely audible, adding to your anxiety as you waited.

When the doors finally swung open, Aizawa was accompanied by the mousy principal walking elegantly at his side. Nezu, though small in stature, exuded an air of authority and intelligence that was palpable. He looked you over contemplatively, taking stock of your body language and your tattered appearance with a simple hum and a nod toward Aizawa.

"I can see now what you are talking about," the principal said, his voice soft, unwavering, and detached, which you found more unsettling than comforting. "Excuse my manners, dear," he chuckled hauntingly. "My name is Nezu. I run this academy, and it has been brought to my attention that you have nowhere to stay comfortably while you are with us, is that correct?"

You immediately nodded, a harsh blush reddening your cheeks and neck. "Yes, sir," you managed to choke out, bowing respectfully.

"No need to be embarrassed. Do you mind if I ask some questions, out of personal curiosity?" Nezu wondered, Aizawa sending him a confused look.

"Of course," you stammered in response, looking between the two men (?).

"Do you have any family?" Nezu’s question was delivered as gently as the intellectual rodent could manage.

"No," you responded quickly, your throat burning with the need to weep at the reminder of your loss, of Tenko.

"Why are you here? What is it you wish to achieve in our hero academy?" Nezu continued, his black eyes gleaming with curiosity. When you let out a shaky breath, he immediately took a breath to reign himself in. "My apologies, I am used to having a good read on the people I meet, but you seem to be an enigma. I hope I didn’t offend you."

"No!" you responded quickly. "You didn’t, it’s just a sore subject," you paused, taking a deep breath before continuing. "I raised myself on the streets since I lost both my parents before I could remember them. I guess that loneliness and feeling of invisibility pushed me to want to be a hero. I want to help people feel seen, if that makes sense," you chuckled bashfully, rubbing your neck.

"Thank you for indulging me," the principal responded somewhat cheerily, waving a paw at Aizawa who was still standing at his side. "Mr. Aizawa will show you to your room. Also, I am personally going to pay for your tuition."

"I couldn’t," you immediately declined, your head spinning at his offer. "Having free board is enough. Seriously, I will get a job or something and pay it myself."

"Nonsense," Nezu smiled—or at least that’s what you thought he was doing. "Consider it a donation made in good faith. You will be a welcome star in our hero course this year. I don’t want you to worry about anything except for your training," Nezu nodded at Aizawa before giving you one last curious look and returning to his office. You thanked him hesitantly before the heavy doors closed.

"This way," Aizawa huffed, encouraging you to follow him back down the way you came.

The dorms at UA were gorgeous, towering buildings with each class’s numbers on them. Aizawa led you to one furthest from the rest of the dorms, the lettering above the building reading 1-A. It was the only building in the area aside from an identical building reading 1-B standing tall just opposite 1-A, separated by a wide cement walkway. The buildings looked newly constructed, with large windows that let in ample sunlight, making them look warm and inviting. The exterior was modern, with sleek lines and a blend of concrete and glass that gave it a sophisticated yet welcoming appearance.

As you approached the doors of the dorms, Aizawa stopped you. "Your room is the only complete one at the moment, fifth floor on the right in the middle. Also, here is a meal card. Just show it at the cafeteria when you get food, and you should have no trouble there."

"Thank you," you stammered in awe, taking the license-sized card colored in blue with the classic gold UA lettering on the front and a barcode on the back.

"The communal showers should be operating as well as the kitchen. If you find any issues, my room is on the first floor past the living room on the left," he added, opening the doors for both of you to enter. The lobby of the dorm was spacious and modern, with comfortable-looking furniture arranged around a large television. The walls were adorned with motivational posters and bulletin boards filled with various notices and announcements. There was a large communal area with plush couches, a few tables for studying or eating, and a game area complete with a pool table and several arcade machines.

"You should get your uniform sometime tonight or early tomorrow morning before classes start. As far as your hero costume goes, just submit your idea with any specifications to me before the week is up, and we’ll have the support department get it done for you."

"Sir, I don’t know what to say, this is all—I’m grateful," you breathed, desperately trying to keep your composure.

"All that we ask in return is that you do your best, plus ultra and all that," he rolled his eyes at himself, seemingly irritated that the school's moto had made its way past his lips. Rather than cringe, you were filled with a new sense of determination. You would not let these opportunities pass you by, and you would show everyone that all the effort and money they had put into you wasn’t in vain. You would earn every cent back by becoming the best.

"I will, sir," you bowed with a determined gleam in your eyes, causing your teacher’s lip to curl into an almost imperceptible smile—something you doubted happened often.

As Aizawa left, you took a moment to absorb your surroundings. The kitchen was state-of-the-art, with stainless steel appliances and a large island for communal cooking. You took the elevator up to the fifth floor, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. Your room was at the middle of the hall, just as Aizawa had described. When you opened the door, you were greeted by a simple but cozy space with a bed, a desk, and a small window overlooking the campus. The room was sparsely furnished but had a warmth to it, with soft lighting and neutral tones that made it feel welcoming. A small dresser was tucked into the corner, and a bookshelf stood next to the desk, waiting to be filled with your belongings.

Setting your backpack down, you took a deep breath. This was your new beginning. You had a place to stay, food to eat, and the opportunity to become a hero. For Tenko, and for yourself, you would give it everything you had.

Your uniform had arrived just like Aizawa said, with a note reminding you to submit your hero costume design by the end of the week. The uniform fit perfectly, a stark contrast to the ill-fitting clothes you'd been wearing. It felt strange to be in something so clean and well-tailored, almost like stepping into a new identity. You'd spent several nights working on your hero costume design, carefully considering every detail, particularly the need for ear protection. When you finally handed it to Aizawa, you made sure to emphasize this requirement.

Aizawa nodded, taking the paper from you. Then, he handed you some cash. "From Nezu. He said to go buy some new clothes with it, preferably ones that fit."

Your face flushed red at the comment as you glanced down at your too-short pants and too-tight top. "Thank you, sir," you responded meekly, taking the money without complaint. By this point, you understood that it was no use arguing with the principal about money or anything else he had provided for your comfort. With a grunt, Aizawa left you to your thoughts, walking back to his room in the complex.

Today was your first day of classes, your first opportunity to prove yourself. You hadn’t had time to go out and buy new clothes yet, between studying and preparing, so you were thankful for the mandatory uniforms. As you got ready, you marveled at the difference consistent showers, access to clean water, and regular meals had made. You felt rejuvenated, less tired, and it showed. The dirt streaks and stains were gone, your calloused hands were softer, and your body had filled out enough to hide your ribs. You were beyond grateful for the opportunities you had been given, the space to prepare for the next big step in your life. This was going to change the course of your life forever, and there was no going back.

You had a feeling that these small acts of care were influenced by Tenko beyond the grave. For some reason, being here, achieving both your dreams, made you feel close to him, more connected. It felt nice; you felt seen again, a feeling that only Tenko had ever been able to give you. On top of that, you had asked Aizawa if you could set up a memorial shrine for your long-lost friend, and he had given you no resistance. Now that you had the means, you could remember Tenko properly. Every night before bed, you would light a censer and share your day with your friend, hoping he could hear your call and share in some of your light the same way you shared in his.

As you walked through the dormitory halls, you noticed how the early morning sun filtered through the large windows, casting a warm glow on everything it touched. The hallways were still quiet, with only a few students up and about, but there was a palpable sense of excitement in the air. You made your way to the common area, where a few students were already gathering, most likely checking out newly finished dorms, their nervous chatter filling the space. Some of them glanced at you curiously, but you were too focused on your thoughts to pay them much attention.

Standing at the entrance of your classroom, 1-A, you took a deep breath and stepped inside. The room was spacious and filled with state-of-the-art equipment. The desks were arranged in a semi-circle, ensuring everyone had a good view of the front where a large digital board displayed today's date and the UA logo. You took a seat near the middle, trying to find a balance between being too close to the front and not wanting to be too far back.

As more students trickled in, you noticed a few familiar faces from the entrance exam. Kirishima, the boy who had saved you from being crushed by the robot, waved enthusiastically at you before taking a seat nearby. You smiled and waved back, feeling a bit more at ease knowing you had at least one friendly face in the class. The chatter around you grew louder, filled with excitement and anticipation for what the day would bring.

Finally, the door opened, and Aizawa walked in, his usual tired expression in place. He set his things down on the desk at the front of the room and scanned the class, his gaze stopping momentarily on you. You straightened up, meeting his eyes with determination.

"Welcome to your first day at UA High School," he began, his voice firm but quieting the room instantly. "I am Mr. Aizawa, your homeroom teacher. We have a lot to cover, so let's get started."

By the time lunch rolled around, you were pretty familiar with most of your classmates. Mina, the fluffy pink-haired girl who had talked your ear off before the entrance exam, was still a ball of energy. When she noticed you seated next to Kirishima, she squealed, skipping over to you to start a conversation, with the rest of her group following along. Mina's exuberance was infectious, and you couldn't help but smile as she animatedly introduced her friends.

Hagakure, the invisible girl, nearly matched Mina’s enthusiasm. Her cheerful voice was easy to recognize, and she greeted you warmly. Ochaco introduced herself as Uraraka with a sweet smile and a polite bow, her presence gentle and kind. Jiro gave you a bored once-over before turning back to her conversation with a girl named Yaoyorozu, who introduced herself with a composed and confident demeanor. Yaoyorozu's authoritative aura suggested she would make a good leader.

Finally, a small girl named Asui waved hello, her expression wise and calm. She insisted on being called Tsu, and you were happy to oblige. Her serene demeanor was a calming influence amidst the lively group.

During a break between subjects, you met Shoji, Sato, and Koda. They were all kindhearted and easy to talk to when they did speak. Shoji's multi-armed form was imposing yet gentle, Sato's muscular build was contrasted by his soft-spoken nature, and Koda's connection with animals was endearing.

Ojiro introduced himself after you almost tripped over his tail. He chuckled, catching you by your arm with a crooked smile and a soft apology. His calm and composed demeanor made you feel at ease.

Kirishima introduced you to Kaminari, whom you had started to hope for a friendship with. Kaminari was actually really funny, but it seemed he was more focused on cracking jokes and making friends than on learning. You liked Kaminari, but you preferred Kirishima's grounded nature. Kirishima was just as kind as the day you met him at the entrance exam.

You introduced yourself to Tokoyami, who was hiding in a dark corner of the classroom, looking grossed out by something the short purple-haired guy had said. Tokoyami's brooding presence was intriguing, and you found his straightforwardness refreshing. Soon after, you had the displeasure of running into Mineta, the short purple-haired guy. You quickly understood why Tokoyami had made a weird face; Mineta was a perv.

You recognized Iida as the kid who asked the only question at the entrance exam. Turns out he wasn’t stuck up; he was just very particular about rules and guidelines. At least he seemed dedicated to his education, and you thought he could make a good leader if he learned to be more accepting of others' faults. Sero was talking with Iida at the time, so you were introduced to him as well. Sero's laid-back attitude was a nice contrast to Iida's strictness.

Aoyama was just sitting at his desk "sparkling," so you didn’t really have the opportunity to talk to him, but at least he was better than Bakugo, who was straight up unapproachable. In fact, Bakugo tried to yell at you when he bumped shoulders with you on the way to his desk, which led to the only acceptable response: you getting right back in his face and calling him out.

"You’re the one who ran into me!" you scoffed, sending an apologetic look toward the group of girls you were mingling with. They all stood stock still in shock at your response. The entire classroom had gone silent, seemingly holding their breaths for Bakugo's reaction.

"Weren’t you the idiot that was the closest to my score?" he huffed, glaring at you.

"Yes," you said confidently, throwing daggers with your eyes in his direction. Bakugo seemed unfazed, just as you were of him.

"You better get ready, I’ll kill you on the mats later!" Bakugo yelled, a sinister smile curving his lips as small licks of orange crackled from his palms. You scoffed, rolling your eyes at the pathetic threat.

"We’ll see," you hummed before turning back to your conversation as if nothing had happened. Being ignored seemed to only piss Bakugo off more, but he held his tongue and sat down.

That led you to now, walking through the lunch line at the cafeteria, gathering your food card in hand as you paid for your mapo tofu and a side of rice. The aroma of the spicy tofu dish made your stomach growl in anticipation. You had run into a green-haired kid when initially getting into line. He was one of the students you hadn’t had a chance to meet before class started. His name was Midoriya, and he was incredibly sweet and friendly. The two of you chatted up a storm while in line, sharing your mutual excitement about being at UA and your dreams of becoming heroes. Midoriya's enthusiasm and genuine kindness made you feel even more welcome at UA, and you were grateful to have met someone who shared your passion for heroism.

As you made your way through the bustling cafeteria, the aroma of various dishes wafting through the air, you balanced your tray carefully. The cafeteria was abuzz with the lively chatter of students, the clatter of utensils, and the hum of excitement as everyone shared their morning experiences.

You navigated through the maze of tables, searching for an empty spot, when you suddenly collided with someone, causing your tray to wobble precariously. Your mapo tofu and rice threatened to spill over the edges as you quickly tried to steady it.

"I'm so sorry!" you exclaimed, looking up to see who you'd run into. Standing before you was a tall boy with strikingly mismatched features. His hair was split down the middle, one side white as snow and the other a deep crimson red. His eyes mirrored this dichotomy, one a cool, icy blue and the other a warm, fiery gray. There was something about his eyes that reminded you so clearly of Tenko, that same fire you thought, though it was also entirely different. This boys fire perplexed you, sure it held plenty of anger and hatred, but it seemed a lot softer than Tenko’s, more controlled.

"It's fine," he responded calmly, his voice steady and composed. His expression was stoic, almost indifferent, but his eyes held a depth that hinted at a complicated past. "I should have been more careful."

You felt a flush of embarrassment creep up your neck. "No, really, it's my fault. I wasn't paying attention."

The boy studied you for a moment, his gaze intense yet not unkind. "I'm Shoto Todoroki," he introduced himself, his voice devoid of any irritation.

You gave a small, nervous smile, introducing yourself as well. "Nice to meet you, Todoroki."

Todoroki nodded slightly, his eyes flicking to your tray. "You might want to find a seat before your lunch ends up on the floor."

You laughed softly, the tension easing a bit. "Good point. Do you have a seat already?"

He glanced around the cafeteria, then shook his head. "No, I don't. You can join me if you'd like."

Surprised by the offer, you nodded eagerly. "Sure, that would be great."

The two of you found an empty table near a window, the natural light casting a soft glow over your meals. As you settled down, you couldn't help but feel a bit nervous. Todoroki's presence was imposing yet strangely comforting.

"So, you're in Class 1-A too?" you asked, trying to make conversation as you began eating your mapo tofu.

"Yes," he replied simply, taking a bite of his own lunch. "I saw you during the entrance exam. Your quirk is… interesting."

You chuckled lightly, a bit embarrassed by the attention. "Thanks. It's called Dissonance. I can influence actions and thoughts with my singing."

Todoroki raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "That's a powerful ability. Have you been training with it for long?"

You nodded, grateful for the interest. "Yeah, I've had to learn to control it and not overuse it. It can be pretty dangerous if I'm not careful."

He seemed to ponder this for a moment, then nodded. "It's important to know your limits. My quirk has its own challenges too."

You glanced at him curiously, waiting for him to elaborate. When he didn't, you decided to ask. "What about your quirk? It's pretty unique too, right? Though I don’t remeber ever seeing you at the entrance exam."

Todoroki's expression remained neutral, but you could see a flicker of something—perhaps hesitation or discomfort. "I got in through recommendation, I only saw you that day because I happened to step into the analysis room when you were using your quirk. As far as my quirk goes, I have control over both fire and ice," he explained, his tone even. "But I only use my ice side."

You tilted your head, sensing there was more to the story, but you decided not to press. "That's impressive. It must be difficult to balance both elements."

"It can be," he admitted, his gaze distant for a moment before returning to you. "But it's something I have to learn to manage."

The conversation flowed more easily after that, and you found yourself genuinely enjoying Todoroki's company. Despite his initial aloofness, there was a quiet strength and determination about him that you respected. As you finished your lunch, you felt a sense of camaraderie with him, a shared understanding of the challenges you both faced in mastering your quirks and pursuing your dreams at UA.

[dangerousduckcloud]

Flowerbeds make up for a nice eternal rest

Read it also on AO3

“You know, I’m going on a date soon.” “Yeah?” Your voice was coarse. “Yeah, she’s truly pretty, and I want to make it special, but I’m not sure what her ideal date would be, though.” You chuckled. The heat on your cheeks was simply due to the burnout of the whole exercising and not because Jason called you pretty. Not at all.

Chapter 12 < > Chapter 14

Masterlist

taglist: @kurai-hono-blog @katrina0-0 @readingfictionnothingelse @lookingforsyd @jackrabbitem @lvlythea @qmabailor

If anyone else would like to be added to the taglist, let me know!

so, the last update was like two weeks ago, sorry, life happens also, happy birthday to our favorite crime lord, i raced to post this on his bday ♥

There's mentions of grooming almost at the end of the chapter: nothing like that happens (nor will it happen in the future of this story), it's all due to a newspaper's libel.

You should run. You should leave.

Maybe if you wished hard enough, one of the bats (the animals) would take you by the shoulders and whisk you away to never be seen again.

It was different when Damian was here, knowing the topic of a date wouldn’t come out with him present (and maybe that’s why he left you two alone), but now that the kid had disappeared, there wasn’t a string of ones and zeroes in which you could hide yourself behind, either with the excuse of not seeing the notification or being busy (with what, though? he knows you don’t do squat all day.)

No, if he took the opportunity to bring up the mention of a date, you would be left on the spot, forced to reply, to stumble and make an idiot out of you.

Regardless, it seemed Jason wasn’t as frantic with the situation as you were, absorbed with fixing something on his bike. You could totally leave, bid your goodnight and go upstairs, where your racing mind could catch a break.

But of course, you didn’t. Wanting to bask in his presence as much as you could, not knowing when you would see him again.

Was he serious about the date?

In lieu of leaving, you picked up the taped-up toy to busy yourself, and not be dumbly idle fiddling with your hands. Your movements were slow, sluggish, your aching muscles not giving you full movement, but also because you were doing everything you could to prolong being left with nothing to do while you tried to think of what else to do.

There was a steel box filled with sharp, dangerous gadgets that were all broken in some way; some were salvageable, while others were destroyed beyond repair that you couldn’t even identify what they used to be, left here to be used for spare parts. This crate must be from where Damian took the tape, but you couldn’t see it anywhere when you turned your head left and right to search for it. Where did he put it? You better look for it before it gets lost, before it rolls over the floor and down into the—

“Did you ask Damian for the lessons?”

“Not really, no.” You turned round to answer him. He was fiddling with a loose strap of the red threads he usually worn around his hands in his Red Hood suit, not even pretending he was interested in talking to you. You gave up looking for the tape, making a beeline to the weight bench and sitting down, inspecting the bandage on your left hand that had the tiniest red dot. “He sent me a message to come down here. I don’t know if it was his idea or not, but—”

Your eyes looked for his face, only to find no one in the spot he’d been standing just one second ago. Out of the corned of your eye, you saw movement in the medbay, the bulky figure going through the cabinets in there.

Anger and disappointment were bubbling up inside you, battling each other for one of them to emerge victorious. Why would he ask a question if he didn’t care in hearing the answer?

“But?” he asked as he turned around, making his way back to you, gauze and cotton in his hands.

So, he was paying attention after all.

Jason sat down next to you, gently talking hold of your hand to remove the dirty and sweaty bandage, his calloused hands sent sparks all over your body, the twitch of your fingers at wanting to lace them between his mistaken as the reaction of the cotton touching the cuts. You weren’t in any pain, the cuts smaller than a paper cut, yet he mumbled a soft apology.

“But… It’s nice to have someone to care for me like that.”

Your gaze was focused on his hands, hands that’d been in countless fights, knocking unconscious men and women bigger than you without breaking a sweat, hands that were forever bathed in blood, hands that pulled the trigger on numerous criminals without a second thought, without remorse.

Only he knew how many had met their fate by these hands, and only he knew how many more would pile up to the list. He could break bones and spill blood as easy as it was breathing.

And yet, they were still capable of kindness, gentleness, of moving so delicately with every motion thought with the most care and attention it made you feel like the petals of a flower. These hands were capable of healing, of comfort, tending to the practically invisible cuts with a careful caress.

“I’m sure you have someone back home that cares for you.”

“No, at least… not anymore.” Now that you thought about it, it was taking Damian to find Tim longer than it should.

“How come?”

“I work all day, and —I love my job, don’t get me wrong. But sometimes it’s grueling dealing with all that people that…” Great, now you were rambling, the immediate conscious feeling of thinking, knowing, he might be regretting starting a conversation. “That in my free days I’m not in the mood for dating or friends.”

He nodded, cleaning the last cut on your hands and picking up the used bandages and cotton balls. Tilting his head up to meet your eyes, with the cutest, small smile on his face, and dimples on his cheeks, he asked “What about family?”

It was a matter of time for someone to ask about them, for someone to open the wound once again. “They’re gone. Car accident.”

The hands once again found their place over yours, engulfing them in the warm his body was radiating.

“I’m sorry. I—” You shook your head, both to ask him to stop and to prevent tears from falling. It’d been so long, yet every time you thought about it, the dread that consumed your body that day felt just the same. The silence stretched out uncomfortably, mostly for him than you, focused on ridding yourself of the painful memories and the tears welling in your eyes. “You know, I’m going on a date soon.”

“Yeah?” Your voice was coarse.

“Yeah, she’s truly pretty, and I want to make it special, but I’m not sure what her ideal date would be, though.”

You chuckled. The heat on your cheeks was simply due to the burnout of the whole exercising and not because Jason called you pretty. Not at all.

You’re sure that if your brain wasn’t so dehydrated to the point of resembling a raisin, it would be malfunctioning.

“I bet she’d like something romantic, like a picnic, or chocolates.”

“No flowers?”

“No flowers.”

“Alright.” He closed the lid of the aid kit, the echo disturbing the sleep of some of the bats. “I’ll do that, then. Wish me luck.” With a wink and a grin on his face, he got up just in time when echoing voices broke the silence.

When you were out of your stupor, you stood up. There wasn’t much for you to do here, as you wouldn’t be able to be of any help with the case. Besides, you were in dire need of a hot shower for sore muscles that were going to hurt like hell tomorrow.

“Timbo!” The voice rumbled through the cave, greeting him once he and Damian were at the end of the steps. “Got some intel for you.”

“Yeah, Damian mentioned something like that.”

The tense shoulders and the cognizant eyes were painfully obvious signs of how overstrung and uncomfortable Tim was, forced to pretend he’s unbothered being left with the two brothers that attempted to kill him, both more than on one occasion.

Question was, did Jason and Damian were oblivious to that, or they simply not care? Was it believable to think the two vigilantes didn’t notice?

Your shower could wait. Besides, you would be lying if you said you weren’t curious at seeing them work.

Tim wasted no time, eager to get this over quickly, and sat down in front of the computer, fast fingers gliding over the keyboard, Damian at his left and Jason behind him, scooting over when he saw you approach.

“I got a name. Gregory Crowther. Low tier goon, but he’s the one getting the girls out of the city.” His hand brushed against yours for a second. That’s simply things that happen, you thought to yourself, nothing done on purpose, no hidden meaning behind it.

You shook your head to clear your mind, focusing instead on the grand screen in front of you; a database Tim had accessed to with the information of one Gregory Crowther, the mugshot of a stout, balding man with eyes so dark and full of hatred piercing your soul through the screen, a disgusting yet impressive list of crimes next to the photo: shoplifting, indecent exposure, fraud, murder, arson, assault, battery, drug possession… and now kidnapping and trafficking. This guy was a golden worker for criminals, with years of experience dating since his teen years.

“Gregory was released from Blackgate three months ago, for arson.” Tim said. “He worked for Riddler a couple years ago, but this isn’t the type of things he does. Besides him, he never worked for any other rogue, this must be an outside ring.”

Jason began pacing, a murderous look on his face, completely different from moments ago. “Huh, well, this is… Interesting.” Tim kept talking, moving closer to the screen. “He works for a shipping company that’d had several complains of delays in deliveries since the start of the year, all of them from New York.”

“So, he picks the girls in Gotham and takes them to New York.” Jason stopped pacing, his hand holding the back of the chair with so much force you could see the leather creasing. “You said the start of the year? Can you access the records of everyone that has done deliveries to New York?”

Another list came out, with at least the names of fifty people on it.

“I’ll get their addresses and do a background check, see if some of them have some link in common. In the meantime, I sent Gregory’s address to your phone, Hood. He had a day off today.”

“I’ll have a chat with him.” Jason mumbled while looking at the address on his phone. He’d walked past you to get to his bike when he stopped abruptly. It seemed he was debating something, his hand going up as if to catch Tim’s attention, who was engrossed in the information displayed on the computer, only to fall flat at his side. Your eyes met for a second, his expression unreadable.

He shook his head and got on the bike, speeding out of the cave.

What was that?

Damian and Tim were none the wiser to whatever situation had happened just now, still focused on the screen, the very far corner of it reading fifteen past nine.

“Come, Damian.” You put your hand on his shoulder, guiding him towards the stairs. “It’s getting late and you have school tomorrow.”

Tim’s snicker earned him a glare from the kid.

“I am not a child.”

“I’ll believe that when you can reach the pedals on the Batmobile. Come, or I’ll go get Alfred.”

He grumbled, but heeded your order nonetheless, stomping with every step he climbed.

Definitely not the reaction of a child.

———

As expected, your sore muscles woke you up in the morning, every move of your legs and arms needed ten times strength than usual, but there was still a reason for which you wanted to wake up early and not lay in bed all day (you could do that later). Taking another quick, scalding shower,  you went downstairs hopping you weren't late.

"Morning, Alfred" You grabbed a freshly baked muffin and sat down at the kitchen island, if Alfred was still here, that meant you were on time, maybe even early considering how empty the kitchen was.

“Good morning, Miss Jane, you seem quite excited today."

"My body is on fire, and I hide my pain behind my smile."

As expected from the man who raised a household of vigilantes, his only reaction was to curve a brow. "Well, at least you're honest, unlike my grandchildren. May I inquire what ails you?"

"Damian's teaching me self-defense, and now my muscles are paying the price"

"Ah." Alfred places a steaming cup of chamomile and lavender tea in front of you, the first sip already doing wonders for your tender body.

"Master Damian mentioned it to me last night. I must say, I appreciate having a... Let's say normal person spending time with him, teaching him how to be a normal kid, especially one that cares for him as you do."

Alfred's gaze did not concord with his words. It wasn't hateful nor suspicious, simply... wary. Of what, though?

"Yeah, he’s... difficult, but I care for him like the little brother I never had" The sound of dragged footsteps drew your gaze to the door, whoever was making the noise, they wanted to be heard. "Speaking of my favorite brat. Why are you still in your pajamas?" Unlike the posh and pristine uniform, you were expecting to see him in, Damian was still wearing his plaid sleepwear.

“I am unwell, Pennyworth. I believe it wise to rest and avoid getting my classmates sick.”

“Is that so?” Alfred didn’t believe him in the slightest. “Come here so I can feel your forehead.”

“I must refuse.” Damian coughed surprisingly real. “I am contagious and do not wish to sicken you in your advance, frail age.”

“I can do it then, I’m not old.” You turned to look at Alfred. “Sorry, Alfred.”

“Apology accepted, Miss Jane. I believe it is the best option anyway. After all, my frail body could confuse Master Damian’s temperature and believe him to be healthy, we wouldn’t want to send him to school sick, now, would we?”

Before Damian could run, you put both hands on his face, the back of your hand feeling nothing but his cool forehead.

“Why don’t next time you put a warm towel before coming down? You might fool us.” Damian grumbled something in Arabic that you had no idea what it meant, but you knew he wasn’t complimenting your outfit for today. “Go get changed or you’ll be late.”

Stomping, again, he left the kitchen, his usual frown on his face ten times stronger.

Soon, the clanging of pots and pans was replaced with chatter and clattering of utensils. After patrol, Steph had spent the night in the manor, recounting how patrol went between bites of her breakfast.

“It was a pretty calm night for Gotham. There were like, only three muggings, so Cass and I stopped by BatBurguer for fries. Condiment King was there.”

Your eyebrows gently shot up your face.

“He’s real?”

“Unfortunately.” Tim piped up. “The night’s he’s out are the worst, I never know if I’ll get back covered in mustard. Do you know just how hard it is to get rid of the smell?”

“Buddy’s not that bad.” Steph said. “… When he’s taking his meds. We chat with him for a while, and he was doing pretty alright, he’s working in a convenience store next to my school, I might drop by from time to time and say hello, make sure he’s not relapsing.”

“Didn’t he used to be a comedian?”

“Yeah, but there’s a limit to the number of condiment puns one can tell.”

“Bad jokes.” Cass agreed.

Alfred walked inside the small dining room, the one connected directly to the kitchen through a simple arched wall. There was a formal, bigger dining room, but since there were rarely enough people in the manor to use it, all meals were taken here, in a booth placed next against a window. He was drying his hands on a kitchen towel, taking off his apron next.

“Master Damian, we better leave now.” Without any fight left in him, Damian begrudgingly stood up from the table, you mimicked his movements, however cheerful rather than moody.

“Why are you following me, Jane?”

“Oh, I want to go with Alfred to drop you off.”

“Why?”

“I take enjoyment in your suffering and I wanna see it as much as I can. Consider it my revenge from making me exercise more than I’ve ever done in my life.”

———

It wasn’t until Alfred had started the car that you realized what you were about to do. Cold, tingling limbs scared of going back to the city, scared of being taken hostage or kidnapped again.

Every rumble of the car felt like a beacon of your location, every possible pothole or pebble that shook the vehicle felt as if the car would stop instantly and a man would open the door to pull you out.

The rational part of your brain was begging for you to realize how improvable that was, you were safe. Both of those times you’d been in open, vulnerable areas, vulnerable situations. Besides, you were sure Alfred must be carrying a weapon with him.

You tried to focus on your surroundings rather than your invasive thoughts, looking for something that would intrigue you; there were simple, boring buildings on either side, a stray dog relieving himself on a bush, an unopened bottled water in the cup holder, Damian next to you drawing— “Is that me?”

The sudden question caused Damian to jump in his place, quickly slamming shut his sketchbook.

“Must you be so nosy?” Damian put away the book inside his backpack. You were dying to see his drawing, yet you knew how annoying it was to have people forcefully taking hold of things you wanted to keep private, so you simply said “Looked like me. I was curious.”

In the distance, you were beginning to see the form of Gotham Academy’s main building. The red, brick wall fence and trees surrounding it ineffective in covering the structure. The groups of tweens and teens excitedly chatting between them on their way inside, most likely catching up on their extravagant activities done while on vacations.

Alfred stopped the car way further than where the entrance was, discovering the reason once he spoke. “Oh dear.”

In front of you were two other cars stopped, the drivers fighting each other on who was at fault. You were confused at exactly what’d happened until you noticed the tiniest of scratches in one of the cars, barely visible, nothing these people couldn’t pay to get it fixed.

“Miss Jane, would you be so kind as to accompany Master Damian to the entrance and make sure he goes inside while I turn the car around? I shall be waiting at the corner.”

“Sure.” Taking off your seatbelt, you left the car, rounding it to get on the sidewalk, hearing Damian slamming the door shut. He was quieter than usual, not complaining or judging people, his gaze focused on the sidewalk, kicking a small pebble until it rolled to the street.

You let him be, gauging into the daily lives of the one percent; despite being young and talking like any other kid, they still exude an air of grandeur, or properness and poise.

“Jane?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you hate me?”

That made you stop. Where had he gotten that idea? Where was this coming from?”

“What? No.”

“It is alright if you do, you would not be the first one.”

“I don’t, Damian. Why would you think that?” You placed a hand on his shoulder for comfort, resuming walking when parents began scowling at you for hindering their walk.

“Earlier, at the manor. You mentioned enjoying my suffering.”

You’re quite an idiot, aren’t you?

“Oh, fuck, Damian no, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Then how?”

You’d forgotten you were talking to a kid that’d gone from being an only child to having four siblings, all older than him. He wasn’t social and took all things completely literal, he most likely wasn’t used to this type of jokes.

“I was joking, Damian. It’s like when Tim asks me to do something, and I say no, but I do it anyway. It’s just to mess with him.” He was so deep in thought, a frown on his face.

“So, you do not hate me?”

“Not at all, Damian. In fact, you’re my favorite.” His frown was replaced by a smug smirk.

The bell rang, the few kids still outside running to their classes. You sided hugged Damian, wishing him good luck on his first day. His walk to the entrance as calm and unbothered as he could, not caring if he was late.

With the ring of the last bell, the street was soon empty and quiet, even the men fighting had resolved their issues and left. You were alone now, with no one to protect you from an attack, no one would know your location if you were taken.

A familiar car was the only one left in the street. That’s right, Alfred’s waiting for you. It’s not even a minute walk, nothing could happen; yet you still sped up your walking as much as you could without looking suspicious

“Everything alright, Miss Jane?”

“Yeah, just… Making sure Dami didn’t try to escape.”

“Very well then.”

Your breathing calmed down once the car was put on motion, you were soon going to be safe behind the manor’s walls. The streets were calmer now that parents had dropped off their kids and all workers were already in their offices, the drive calmer and smoothly than it’d been ten minutes ago.

While waiting for the traffic light to turn green, your phone vibrated next to you on your set. A text from Damian.

              | Useless torture

A photo of his desk with an open history book attached to the text. With a smile, you typed in a reply.

              | We can paint something when you get back

              | Your artistic skills are not your forte.

              | :(

              | But I suppose even abstract ideas can convey something.

              | :D

———

Both Steph and Damian were busy with school, Tim had locked himself in his room for a meeting, Cass was taking a nap, and while Dick had contacted Alfred to let him know he was alive and coming back to earth, he still wasn’t available for idle chatting, and all your bravado of the other day hadn’t dare to make an appearance today, so you didn’t have the confidence to send Jason a message (although you were curious, what did he do during the day?)

It was an unusually bright day in Gotham, the breeze light enough to not lift the pages of the book you were reading, the condensation on your glass of lemonade made it even more appetizing than it already was, cooling down your warm body. The birds were taking the lack of rain as their opportunity to sing to their hearts content.

You’d never felt this calm before, without the looming threat of real life, of work and expectations, without the need of society to be fast, fast, fast. No, time had slowed down for you, letting you breathe, fill your lungs with rose scented air from the nearby flowerpots. You were in a dream, in a bubble of peace and quiet, broken in seconds by the notification on your phone.

Normally, you wouldn’t have cared about any of this before. You still couldn’t care less about politics and sports, but now that you were a part of this city that once was fictitious and not just an outsider feeding of the scraps the fandom could get you, you’d set up notifications about local news and entertainment of Gotham (as well as Metropolis, reading everything written by Clark Kent and Lois Lane)

Of course, now that you lived in the house of a well-known public figure and his children, you also set up an special alert every time the name ‘Wayne’ popped up in any article, which, despite them not being extremely active in society lately, there were still quite a couple of newsclips every week.

So, when your phone lit up and began loading the article, it wasn’t a surprise, however, the title in big, bold letters was an unpleasant one, forcing you to take a big gulp of lemonade to help pass down the pretzels you were munching and almost chocked on.

‘Underage Bruce Wayne Lover?’

This morning, a photo of an unknown young woman seen with Damian Wayne, biological son of Bruce Wayne, began circulating all around social media, with citizens wondering if this mysterious woman is Damian Wayne's mother due to the warm embrace they were both sharing.

Since the appearance of Damian Wayne in Gotham three years ago, not much is known about his mother, with Bruce denying commenting about the topic. It's now time to wonder if his reluctance is tied to the problematic situation he got himself in.

It is important to note the youngest Wayne has not been seen caring, nor affectionate in public with any member of his family. Why, then, would he be affectionate with her if she were not his mother? They certainly share similar physical qualities.

The problem of the matter begins when one questions the age of the girl in the picture, as she does not look old enough to be the mother of a ten-year-old, in fact, she probably was his age when he was born.

This newspaper begs to the GCPD to investigate Bruce Wayne's private life and discover what he's doing behind closed doors with all the children he's adopted 'out of the goodness of his heart'.

At the time of writing this article, Wayne is out of the country in Wayne Enterprises matters, making him unreachable for questioning. Since last year, he had left most of the CEO responsibilities to his third youngest son, Timothy Drake-Wayne, so why is he the one meeting with possible clients? Could it be that these meetings are code word for whatever nefarious activities he's involved in?

You were disgusted, staring dumbly at the article, reading it once again to make sure your brain hadn’t made up the whole thing.

At the end of the article were two photos, one of when you were side hugging Damian before he walked inside the school (he wasn’t even hugging you back, how is that ‘affectionate’? There were probably thousands of photos with Dick doing the same), and the other of you getting into the car with Alfred, your face completely in focus.

Comments on the article were a mix of people throwing shit at Bruce, and others throwing shit at the article itself.

> I always knew Wayne was sick, why else would he adopt so many kids in the first place

> They should remove his custody of all of them and get them to safety

> You gotta be a fucking idiot to not consider the possibility that she's just another stray he adopted who got close to the kid

> Wasn't Wayne found in a stint of a group of child molesters a year ago and declared as 'working undercover'? I wonder how much he paid to the police to say that

> I find it highly unlikely Brucie would do something like that when he almost beat to dead a guy who tried to touch his oldest when he was a kid

Your hands were shaking, sure that all color had been drained from your face. When did they take the photo? How did they know to be there?

The reflection of something on your face drew your attention from your phone to the gate in the distance, a shadowy figure high up in a tree with a camera pointing at you.

Shit.

You didn’t even bother to take your stuff before going inside, you’d fucked up and had drawn unwanted attention on the family, not to mention helping Bruce get labeled as a groomer.

Opening door after door in hopes of finding someone, the sound of one closing in the distance reached your ears.

“Timmy!” It appeared he’d just finished his meeting, rubbing his shoulders after his two-hour conference. When you shouted his name, he immediately changed his posture; going from relaxed to cautious in a second, his hands went down to his torso, raised and ready to defend, his left leg going forward for a more stable position.

“What’s wrong?” When you shoved your phone on his face, it took him a few seconds to react, relaxing his posture and taking the device from your hands, eyes skimming over the page. “Ah.” Was all he said, calm as if you’d told him it was going to rain in Gotham “What about it?”

“What? Tim, this is serious, I’m ten years older than Damian, they’re implying Bruce slept with a twelve-year-old. Why are you so calm?”

“Because they’ve done it before.” Tim went back to his room. You’d never been inside before, only seeing glances of it when the door was left ajar and you were walking down the corridor. It was… Tidy was not the word you’d described it. Clothes were strewn all over the place. Half-filled, cold cups of coffee forgotten in every surface available. You were pretty sure Alfred would disown him if he saw this.

While you were observing his room, Tim had turned on his laptop, notes and diagrams of his call still open. Once he found what he was looking for, he turned the screen to you, the web results with several links all accusing Bruce of being an abuser, some even decades old, coincidentally, they all came from the same newspaper: the Gotham Weekly.

“They’ve been doing it since dad adopted Dick. At first the cops investigated it, —or well, Commissioner Gordon did— but they all quickly found out it wasn’t true, every two or three years they post something about this that people don’t believe them anymore, especially when they started to corner us at galas and events to give our statements. You should’ve seen their faces when their recorder accidentally hit Cass in the face, Bruce was fuming, threatened to sue them all for everything they had if they didn’t stop. I’m surprised they haven’t gone bankrupt already.”

“Oh.” Was your turn to say. “Why, though?”

“The owner, Bill Blacklow, has some sort of grudge against Bruce since their teen years, so I guess he’s trying to get back at him, I don’t really care much to look it up, after that incident they pretty much stopped, but I guess they got bold because Bruce’s not here. This isn’t really a problem, but we could give out our statement if it makes you feel better. But really, only like ten people will read this.”

His assurance and calm demeanor brought down your anxiety levels.

“You’re sure this won’t affect your family?”

“Can Superman fly?”

You sighed, letting yourself drop down on the bed.

“There was also a paparazzi outside.” Tim’s face lit up like a Christmas tree, crouching down next to the bed, the sound of boxes moving coming from under you. “What are you looking for?”

Instead of replying, his face popped up next to you, slowly raising his hands to reveal a… Oh.

Oh, this is going to be so much fun.

[pinkthrone445]

~I'd do it all over again if you're with me~ Prequel

Next part

Pairing:Melissa Schemmenti x Reader

Gender: little bit of hurt, fluff.

Warnlings : (+18) strong words, mention of alcohol.

Summary:you and Melissa had been in a relationship for a couple of years now, until at your sister's wedding you talk about marriage and you realize that the two of you had different perspectives on the future of the couple.

Request:I’m obsessed with this! Can you make a prequel where the reader talks about getting married and Mel refuses and then later Mel proposes the reader? 🥺 I loved when you talked about it! @babytakeittothehead

Hope you like it! ❤️

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You and Mel were at one of your sisters' weddings, you had traveled over the weekend so you could enjoy the party and the family. Everything had been beautiful, the atmosphere was spectacular, there was certainly love in the air. You and Melissa had been together all night, her hands always in contact with yours or your body. You loved moments like that where you could go out and enjoy being a couple in front of everyone, unlike when you visited her at school and you had to control themselves, so the kids wouldn't make disgusted faces.

When it was time to toss the bouquet, you and Melissa didn't make any effort to go participate, you just stayed at the table talking, that's why you were surprised when the bouquet practically fell into her hands, which made you laugh when you saw her face. While everyone applauded and congratulated you two, the redhead left the bouquet on the table making a disgusted face

-"No thanks"-she said, and another guest looked at her curiously

-"You're not a big fan of commitment, I assume"- he murmured and Melissa shook her head, taking a sip from her drink

-"Not even drunk in Vegas would I get married, that's a mistake I only made once and I won't do it again for anyone. The only thing a wedding achieves is that at the time of separation, everything it is more complicated. Because believe me, that eternal love bullshit is a lie. All couples have problems and are going to separate as soon as possible with the stupidest reason as an excuse"-The redhead replied too sincerely to be at a wedding, clearly she had taken a little too much to drink

-"Come on Mel, there are couples who last a lifetime together, look at you and me how well we are doing in 3 years together, I see us together for many more years. A wedding only confirms that love that couples feel for each other" - You responded trying to lighten the harsh comment your girlfriend had made, she just laughed

-"Believe me honey, everyone separates at one point or another and those who haven't, it's because they're cowards"-She replied as she continued drinking, you frowned and for the first time in the night you stopped having contact with her by letting go of her hand

-"I think it's more cowardly to give up... So you are planing to leave me?"-You asked, confused, and she laughed, thinking your question was a joke

-"No, not now, but we don't know what will happen in the future, life is hard and fights happen" -she replied without much care-"don't know what will happen in the future when we go through problems"

The rest of the party you avoided the redhead as much as you could, until it was time to go to the hotel. As you were taking off your dress and putting your pajamas, Melissa hugged you from behind pressing her front to your back and kissing your neck, knowing the effect that had on you, but you sighed and slipped out of her grip

-"I thought that if we were going through troubles we would talk like adults and fix things. Not that we would separate at the first sight of difficulties, I imagined myself with you all my life..."-You whispered in pain and got up from the table

-"Come on, I didn't think you were so deluded" - she joked and you sighed

- "I'll go see my sister to see how she's doing" - you said before walking away.

-"I'm tired Melissa, it was a very long wedding" - you replied and she tried to hug you but you wouldn't let her, laying you on the bed and letting your hair down

-"But it's the last day we have at the hotel before we go back home, I thought we'd enjoy it"-she whispered disappointed seeing how you covered your body with the blankets without even deigning to answer before closing your eyes. Defeated, the redhead changed and lay down next to you.

The next day you thought that you would feel better, but her words stuck in your head, she was thinking about a future without you in it. You sighed looking out the window of the plane, why would Melissa say that? Were you giving 100 percent of yourself in the relationship and that relationship already had an expiration date? Didn't she imagine a future with you? Didn't the supposed love she had for you make her want to spend her life with you? She could have said she didn't want to get married because she didn't believe in weddings anymore and you would have understood. But no, she said she didn't want to get married because it would make the separation more complicated, that only fools believed in weddings, you assumed that made you a fool... She said that problems could separate you, so little faith did she have in the relationship and so little effort would put into fixing things that she would be ready to part ways in the first fight?

Your heart felt heavy, maybe you were overthinking things, but it had really hurt you to hear that from her. If you had known that she didn't imagine a future with you like the one you imagined with her, maybe you wouldn't have been so involved in the relationship, the more you thought about it, the more heartbroken you imagined yourself.

For her part, Melissa didn't understand anything, neither your change of mood nor what made you sick. You never refused to have sex with her, in fact, you almost always initiated it and never said no, no matter how tired you were. Also, whenever you traveled together on a plane or bus, you rested your head on her shoulder and hugged her arm because that helped you calm down and sleep, but now you had turned the other way, with your back to her, looking out the window of the plane, and hugging your pillow. She tried to talk to you, but you were on the verge of tears and didn't want to cry on the plane, so you put on your headphones and closed your eyes trying to avoid her as much as possible.

When the plane landed and you got down, Melissa spent the whole way back home talking, but you barely responded to her, your head was completely elsewhere and Melissa still didn't know why. You had already been dating for 3 years and she knew you more than you knew yourself, but there were times when she could be so clueless with the things that were happening to you, if you didn't say it to her face, she didn't realize what made you feel bad, or even realize that it was she who had hurt you.

As soon as you got home, you started unpacking your bags and putting your clothes in the wash, especially the ones you would need the next day to go to work. Among the things you pulled out was a set of red underwear, Melissa's favorite color, but it was definitely new because she hadn't seen it before. The redhead's eyes lit up with excitement and possibilities, approaching you with a mischievous smile and hugging you from behind kissing your shoulder without taking her eyes off your suitcase and the underwear set

-"And that? I'm sure I haven't seen it before... Is it beautiful, when did you buy it?" - Your girlfriend asked you excitedly, hoping that the talk would lead you to wear it

-"I bought it on the trip, I was going to use it for you the night after the wedding, until I lost the desire to have sex"-you replied seriously and I let you off her grip to continue doing your things, the redhead looked at you with confusion

-"No problem with that, you could use it now... I'm dying to see you with that" - she said in a seductive tone, but you barely paid attention to her

-"I can't, I have a lot of things to do for tomorrow for my work and I want to sleep early to be well rested" - you replied putting the set of underwear in the wash and taking out some papers from work, leaving her more confused.

The next day, Melissa got up to make you breakfast, she knew she had done something wrong but she still didn't know what. When she got up, she was surprised to see that you had already left and she hadn't noticed, almost always you were the one who had the hardest time waking up. The redhead sighed, ate breakfast by herself, and then went to work.

At recess, she told her friend Barbara everything that had happened on the trip she had had with you, how much fun you were having until the bouquet fell into her hands. And how confused she had been after that because of the anger you were showing. Her friend laughed at how lost the redhead was

-"Don't you think maybe she's upset about how quickly you dismissed the idea of marriage? You're in a relationship of 3 years with her, maybe she hoped to get married someday. The fact that you are in a relationship means that these things are discussed between the two of you, not denied without first consultation at least. A relationship is about committing to things even if you don't like it, it's about demanding but also giving. I know you're not a fan of weddings because of your ex, but she's younger and maybe she imagined the perfect wedding with you. You should ask her if that's why... And maybe if you don't want a huge wedding, plan a party even if it's just to celebrate your love. That girl left her house to go live with you, she puts up with your strong character and your anger, and she is always attentive to help you with everything, I think it's your turn to do something for her..."-The eldest advised her and Melissa sighed, she knew she was right but that didn't make it any easier, just thinking about marriage turned the redhead's stomach because it reminded her of her failed marriage and how she was cheated.

After join up some courage, at the end of the classes she was ready to go home to talk to you. It hurt her to see that the food she had prepared for you was still in its place, even though you had clearly arrived home a long time ago. After leaving her things in place, she went to the living room where she found you eating a bag of chips while you watched TV without paying much attention to it

-"Honey..." -The redhead tried to get your attention but didn't succeed-(Y/N)?-she tried again

-"Mhhh?"-you asked still looking at the tv

-"I'm home..."-she whispered

-"I saw that, I saw you"-you replied dryly and she sighed

-"Look hon...I get that you're angry about what I said, but you can't treat me like this just because of that, I think you're overreacting" - Said the redhead, tired of your bad mood, you paused the movie and put the potatoes aside, finally paying attention to her

-"Do you even know what bothered me about what you said? Because for me this is an appropriate reaction, because what you said made me reconsider my whole future with you"-You got up from the couch upset and stood in front of her

-"If this is because I said I didn't want a stupid marriage, it's obvious that we're going to have our disagreements, but if you're going to get like this because of something so stupid, I can't imagine when we have more serious problems, we're not going to last much longer together"-Your girlfriend replied clearly annoyed, everything she had practiced of how to talk things down was no longer useful, her bad temper was winning over her desire to talk things calmly

-"You don't get it! It's not about the fucking wedding Melissa! Yes I would love to get married, but I can live without it. It's about you not thinking we have what it takes to be together as a couple despite the problems. We haven't had a big fight yet and you're already thinking about separation and giving up. If you don't want a future with me, if you plan to break up with me later for some stupid shit, you better do it now and end this once and for all. 'Cause I'm not your toy to please you until you decide you don't need me anymore"-You yelled at your girlfriend looking at her with teary eyes. The redhead took a step back, calming down and sighing as she finally understood what was happening

-"Hon... I'm sorry, I didn't mean that, I wasn't even thinking about what I said... I just remembered how stupid my ex-husband was and everything I had to go through to separate and get a divorce" - she whispered and came closer to you, but you took a step back crying

-"Well, but I'm not your ex-husband, I'm not going to cheat on you with someone else, I love you and adore you, I'd never think of hurting you like that. From day one that we are together I have put everything I am into this relationship and it hurts me to see that you are already thinking about ending things with me at the slightest confrontation"-you whispered no longer strong enough to fight, the anger left your body and was replaced with sadness, Melissa came up to you and hugged you tight kissing your forehead and this time you left her and leaned on her chest sobbing, just the thought of losing her broke your heart into a thousand pieces-"I don't want to lose you Melissa, I want us to do everything to fix the situation even though we have fights because I love you, I love you more than anyone else in this life..."-You whispered against her chest and she hugged you even tighter

-"I love you and I can't imagine a life without you, I'm so sorry for what I said, I was so scarred by my past that I didn't realize I was ruining my future with you... Every night before I go to sleep, I pray to the heavens that for the rest of my life you will be by my side when I wake up. It was kind of unconscious that I said, I can't imagine my life without you, I'm so sorry, I want you forever in my life."-Melissa kept whispering sweet things while still hugging you, things that erased your fears and insecurities, that brought peace back to your heart.

It was Valentine's Day and Melissa had been working longer hours, having two classes together meant twice as many students, twice as many exams and twice as many children who needed help. On that particular day, she tried to leave early to see you at home, but one of her students was having trouble at home and decided to vent to the redhead minutes before she left, forcing her to stay longer to help him. When the child finally stopped crying and the parents came to pick him up, it had been almost three hours since the last time she had sent you a quick message saying she would arrive a little later without time to give you more explanations. Melissa sighed grabbing her bag and walking through the parking lot, she knew that you had agreed to go out to dinner together in a luxurious restaurant and there was still time to get to the reservation if you canceled going to the movies as you had agreed, but she was very tired and with little desire to go out, the day had left her exhausted. Between the restless children and the problem she had to handle, she no longer had any desire to be with more people, only to stay with you at home. But she had already left you waiting and you already had the reservation paid, she knew you would be mad if you didn't do anything special on Valentine's Day. Melissa carefully opened the front door, but not before smiling despite her tiredness. As soon as she put down her coat and purse, she saw how you got up from the couch wearing a beautiful and elegant dress, silently approached her side, she expected you to yell at her or get angry at her tardiness, but instead, you caressed her cheek with a small smile on your lips

~Months Later~

-"Hi Mel, I missed you... Are you okay?"-You asked with real concern in your voice, the redhead carefully hugged your waist

-"Hello sweetie, I'm fine... I'm so sorry to be late, it's just that one of my students had a problem and needed my help..." - she answered looking at your eyes

-"Are they okay?"-you asked and she nodded-"and you are really okay?"

-"Yes, I'll take a quick shower and then we can go to the restaurant, so we don't lose our reservation" - The redhead spoke quickly trying to get out of your embrace but you wouldn't let her, she looked at you confused

-"Do you want to stay?"-You whispered, the redhead was shocked, it looks like you read her mind, she turned to look at you, pointing to your dress

-"No, you're already dressed and we've already paid for the reservation" - she insisted, not because she didn't want to stay, but because she didn't want to look bad saying yes so fast

-"But you're tired... I know you Mel, I know it's Valentine's Day but you don't feel like going out and I know"-she pointed to your dress again but you took it off and let it fall, leaving you only in panties and leaving the redhead speechless to answer you-" done, I don't have a dress anymore, do you want to stay now? You can barely keep walking, I know you wanna stay, I won't get mad if you are honest with me..."-You whispered and smiled

-"I wanna stay..."-she answered and you hugged her tightly, the redhead took advantage of your lack of clothes to let her hands travel over your body smiling

-"Let's take a shower"-you whispered over her lips before kissing her

After a relaxing and gentle shower together, the two of you got into bed and put on a movie on TV, neither of you bothered to put on clothes, all you did was bring some snacks. The redhead's head was on your chest as she hugged your waist and felt your soft breathing. Usually you were the one snuggling up in her, but you knew she was tired and needed it. Melissa was focused on her thoughts instead of the television. Anyone else would have been mad at her for being late on Valentine's Day, but you were worried about her and hers students, not mad at all. In previous years the two of you had made great gestures for each other on Valentine's Day, but nevertheless, Melissa appreciated this much more, that you had put your plans aside because she needed it, she appreciated that you realized what she needed. She valued staying at home with you, without hearing a single complaint about the ordinariness of the situation on such a special day. Melissa was grateful for you, you had a lot of patience with her. Your hand was playing with the redhead's hair and when she felt your laughter thanks to the movie under her cheek, she came back to reality looking at you with shining eyes, you felt watched and you looked at her confused

-"What?"-Your mouth was full of Doritos and she thought that was adorable

-"Marry me" - she whispered getting up and sitting down next to you looking into your eyes, you almost choked

-"What?"-you asked again after drinking some water

-"Marry me... I want to live the rest of my life with you, I want the world to know that we belong to each other, I want our friends to celebrate our love with us, I want it to be almost impossible for us to walk away from each other, I want you to marry me... Please, I'd be very foolish if at some point in my life I thought of leaving you again"-The redhead spoke truthfully and you looked at her confused, although you wanted to get married you knew that she wasn't a big fan of the idea, and if you had ever imagined that she would propose to you, it certainly wouldn't be while you were in bed naked watching a comedy movie. At your silence, the eldest became nervous- "I promise I'll buy some rings as soon as possible but if you want we can..."-The redhead couldn't keep talking when you sat on her legs and started kissing her with emotion and tears in your eyes, her hands immediately went to your waist as she enjoyed having you close-"Is that a yes?"-she spoke over your lips without separating an inch

-"YES! DEFINITELY"-You screamed and kissed her again, which made her laugh. Melissa was doing this out of pure love and you knew it, she wasn't doing it in front of a big crowd to show off, or because she had made a mistake and wanted to fix it, she was doing it completely out of love, for her and for you.

-"I'm going to be the only one lucky enough to enjoy your Doritos-flavored kisses for the rest of my life, future Mrs. Schemmenti"-she answered making you laugh and kiss her again-"I love you..."

-"I love you more, happy Valentine's..."-you answered

[cressidagrey]

The Starlight Princess - Chapter 8 (The End)

Summary: 

There is a Pool of Starlight in the Spring Court. A piece of the Night Court that has no business being in the land of Eternal Spring. So how did it come to be?

Or: How the Spymaster of the Night Court starts hearing a voice, realises that no, he is not insane after all, frees a princess, kills a High Lord…and finds his mate all at the same time.

Warnings: 

Actually...Other than Seren and Rhys hashing it out, not really any?

(dividers by @tsunami-of-tears)

Azriel braided her hair. 

4 strands. Not 3. An Illyrian round braid. Starting at the crown of her head and carefully working down her back until he tied it off with a strip of leather. 

Tighter and more exact than Seren could have ever managed it. 

She sat between his legs on the floor, one hand curled around his ankle, even now needing the grounding to feel like she was really there. That this wasn’t some kind of….that she hadn’t completely lost grip to the reality. That this was really happening and that this was….that she had this now. 

One tendril of his shadows came over to wrap itself around her other hand and she bit back the tears that threatened to fall from her eyes as it playfully tugged at her fingers like it used to do every morning. 

She wiggled them back at it, and it crawled up her arm, wrapping around her wrist like a bracelet. 

*I missed them,* she whispered into Azriel’s mind, a soft chuckle coming from behind her in response as he leaned down to rest his chin on top of her head. 

*They missed you too,* he responded softly. 

She could feel him freeze behind her, something nearly imperceptively if she hadn’t been as close to him as she was. 

But she was…and so she could feel it…Could nearly feel Azriel flinch with something. 

*What is it?* she demanded. 

*Rhys.*

Of course. She could feel the echo of her brother’s mental touch through Azriel, how Rhys should know better than to leave deep gouges in Azriel’s mental shields but still did it, because the fury he was feeling was…a thick, bitter taste in the back of Seren’s throat.

*Why is he battering your shields like this?* she snapped. What gave him the right to behave like this? Rhys knew better. She knew her brother well enough to know that he had every bit of ability not to hurt anybody while communicating like that. 

*I imagine he’s not very pleased with me right now,* Azriel gave back. A sigh. Not even shocked. Not even surprised. 

*That does not excuse that kind of behaviour. He knows better than that,* she seethed.

*He’s your brother,* Azriel said that like that explained everything. Like that somehow made it alright. 

It made her fucking furious. 

*And so it’s alright that he’s giving you a fucking headache?* She snapped right back, wrapping her own shields around Azriel, the pure surprise of that action, forcing her brother back. 

*10 minutes!” she snapped into her brother’s mind before slamming down her own walls with a warning growl. He knew better than to try that with her. 

*He’s worried about you,* Azriel said lightly as she gained her feet and she met his gaze. 

*He should be,* Seren growled. “I am going to have fucking words with him,” she spat out.

“Since when do you curse?” Azriel asked her aloud, sounding more amused than anything. 

“Since my brother decides to behave like a fucking asshole,” Seren shot back. Since then. And she was going to string him up by his fucking intestines if he kept behaving like this to her mate. Hers. Her Mate. 

*He has his reasons,* Azriel admitted quietly and she raised an eyebrow questioningly. He pushed a memory at her clearly gauging her carefully. 

If he expected another jealousy induced fit like she had for her cousin…well, he would be deeply disappointed. Instead, Seren felt righteous fury pour through her veins. 

She was going to fucking maim her brother in life for that. 

She could have understood it if her brother had been worried about the political ramifications and would have asked Azriel to be careful. Hell, she could have understood the request to wait, to take it slow.

She could have understood all of it. 

But she could not understand how Rhys had…how her brother had behaved like some kind of despotic overlord, that apparently now decided who in his court was allowed to be with whom. 

Azriel pushed more at her, about how happy Elain, that female that he had been enamoured with was nowadays with her mate, about how it clearly had all worked out for the best…

It gave her enough to delve deeper, and she found what she searched for. 

Azriel didn’t try to stop her. 

Two years of utter misery from Azriel, where he had spent his time building this house brick for brick with his own two hands because his heart had been aching. 

Because her brother had talked to him like that. Had told him that he should go to a pleasure hall because clearly all that he was good for. Well, that hadn’t been said. That had just been implied. 

*Do not start a fight with him over this,* Azriel pleaded with her in her mind and she was done. 

*Oh, don’t you worry,* Seren gave back, her voice bone dry. *A fight would mean that I allow him to actually explain himself. There is no fucking explanation for that behaviour that I am willing to accept.* 

Still, she did her best to shake off that fury, because if she wasn’t, she was going to bleed it all over the city. 

Azriel seemed to sense that he wouldn’t be able to talk her out of it. 

“Are we going to fly?” Seren asked her mate, who raised a single eyebrow in response. 

“Think you can manage that without plummeting to your death?” he teased her and she just rolled her eyes in response. 

Her wings unfurled from her back like they did for her brother, snapping out to their full length, without a second thought from her. 

The one reason she even still had them…had been thanks to a quirk of herself…she had never been able to keep them out while she was asleep or unconscious. They disappeared then. 

Still, as she finally got to feel them again, could move them…could feel them tremble in the wind as she followed Azriel outside of this house, nestled in the mountains surrounding Velaris…she could feel the wind in them. 

It called to her. 

And she could also feel the hot, steady warming of arousal from Azriel, which was making her bite back a pleased smile. 

She fluttered her wings at him in response.  *Don’t start thinking about that or I am going to maul you again,* she warned him with a laugh. 

*I like it when you maul me,* he shot back. 

*Oh, do you?*  she teased him, just as she shot into the sky. 

She did not plummet to her death, though it did take a few minutes until she felt…back to normal again…until her wings properly felt like an extension of herself again until they were hers again…Until Azriel trusted her enough not to fly beneath her so he could catch her if they gave up on her…until she soared through the skies once more…

But once that happened…soaring through Velaris that morning was…freedom. 

Seren was free. 

No longer a slave to the Spring Court, no longer imprisoned as a pond…she was free. She had her body back, she had her wings back, and she had Azriel back. 

They didn’t fly to the House of Wind, but instead to an estate at the banks of the Sidra, a beautiful Manor House.  (Maybe it shouldn't have surprised her.  For both her brother and her the House of Wind would probably always be too connected to their father…Too…)

Rhys was waiting for them. And for the first time in three hundred years, she got to lay eyes on her brother herself. Not through the memories of Azriel… but he was there… paces away from her as she hit the floor and threw herself at them, letting him catch her as he had done all through her childhood. 

He was warm and massive and smelled like citrus and salt and home. Home. 

His mind brushed against hers and she opened nearly immediately, every one of her instincts giving in as she clung to her older brother and he clung to her, his shoulders shaking. 

*Seren.*

*Rhysand.*

*It’s you,* he whispered, cradling her head in his hands and she took hold of one of his hands, holding it in hers as her eyes met his…the same shade of violet both had inherited from their father. 

*It is me,* she agreed with him, a breathless laugh escaping her as he hugged her again, lifting her clean of her feet to twirl her around like he had been prone to be doing when she had been still a toddler…

*I missed you,* he breathed into her mind, and she got a snapshot of things from him…shards of memories that she couldn’t place, not really, but she could feel it….all of its moments that he had wished, she had been there for. Two people featured extensively….a beautiful brown-haired female and a black-haired toddler with bright blue eyes and fluttering wings. 

*I missed you too.*

She didn’t want to think about how uch…or how it had felt…or how…

*You’re alright?* he checked as he stepped back, still cradling her head and he mustard her, taking in every inch of her. 

His nostrils flared and she knew that he must have caught Azriel’s scent all over her, even when she had showered…showered enough so that she wasn’t absolutely drenched in the smell of sex. She didn’t think that that was going to go over well…though there hadn’t been much she could do against the dark purple blooming bruises and bitemark on the side of her neck. 

Her brother growled.

Azriel answered it, just as sharply, and she could feel the steady line of warmth of him to her left, ready to step in. 

*I am good. It’s fine, Rhys,* she told her brother tightly. *It was nothing that I didn’t want.*

Clearly, that was the wrong thing to say. 

Both of them growled. 

If they were going to come to blows and she would be stuck in the middle, it wasn’t going to end well, she knew that. “I am not some kind of bone for you two to fight over,” Seren snapped. 

She could make her own decisions, thank you very much. 

“Sorry, Princess,” Azriel apologised, his voice quiet, while her brother stared at her wide-eyed.

*Are you sure you want to keep him? I am sure we could still talk Thesan into marrying you.*

She drew back and sharply flicked her brother’s ear, glaring at him. 

This wasn’t funny. 

“Ouch!” his wide-eyed stare at her was funny though. 

“Oh, don’t look at me like that, you deserve worse!” Seren snapped.  *How dare you?” she snapped into his mind, pushing her memories, Azriel’s memories at him, bombarding him with them. 

It was second nature for both of them. 

This was how they talked. 

There had been occasions, more than once, or twice or even a dozen times, where the two of them had had an argument in under a minute just like this. 

*What would you do if I talked to your mate like that?* she seethed at him. 

He clearly hadn’t expected her to push her anger and her fury at him like that. 

*I…I am sorry.* Rhys wasn’t stuttering but it was a near thing, definitely taken aback by how angry she was on Azriel’s behalf. 

*I am not the one you need to apologise to, Rhysand,* Seren said tightly. 

*You are aware that Azriel can fight his own battles, you know?” Rhys told her, a thread of amusement running through his voice, but Seren didn’t find this very funny. 

Especially because she knew that Azriel would have never fought that battle for himself. For another person? Of course. But never for himself. 

“As long as he has me, he doesn’t need to. You worry about this Court. I’ll worry about my mate,* she pointed out evenly. *And don’t you dare threaten him. He’s mine.*

Very clear. Very concise. 

Her brother inclined his head.  

“Where’s the rest?” she asked aloud, Azriel next to her seemingly relaxing, as she reached out blindly for his hand. 

He took it, warm and scarred and safe. 

“What, you wanna tell me that Cassian hasn’t been watching the whole thing from the window?”

“It was the roof, actually!” called a loud voice and she just shook her head, biting back a smile. 

“Inside,” her brother answered finally, his voice quiet. 

“Wanted to check if I am quite right in the head?” she wondered as he turned to make his way there and he sighed, long sufferingly. 

“I don’t know why I bothered, you never were anyway,” he gave back, teasing her, being as annoying as he always had been…one of her tendrils of white starlight magic reached out to poke him and he batted it away without even turning towards her, though she could see the smile playing around his lips. 

“You got me a sister. Where is she?” she demanded. “Where’s my nephew? I owe him a few years worth of presents.” 

That did make him smile broadly, though it was Mor that was the first to hug her as they entered the house, her cousin enveloping her in a fierce hug. 

“Don’t try to rip out my throat,” she warned Seren drily, who just laughed in response. 

“Sorry about that,” she apologised. *Though you had that coming.* she added mentally, making Mor laugh. 

“Oh, don’t be. It was good for my amusement,” Mor told her with a grin. “Rhys looked like he would had a heart attack when I told him.”

She could just imagine that.  

Mor let go of her only for Cassian to lift her clean off her feet, much to her amusement.

“So where have you been?” he asked her as he let her down. “We thought you were dead and then Tamlin gets killed, Spring’s wards shatter and you and Azriel finally get together?”

“I spent 3 centuries as a pond,” she gave back drily.

“A pond,” her brother repeated hoarsely. 

“Or a Pool of Starlight, or a lake or whatever else you want to call it,” she answered, her voice turned dark.

There was a shocked gasp and she looked up to see the same brown-haired woman that she had seen in the memories of her brother and of Azriel featured…Feyre. 

Feyre, who had her nephew on her hip…Nyx. 

But Seren remembered her before her ears had turned pointed…before she had become cauldron-blessed…when she had just been…human. 

“I…I am so sorry,” she said hoarsely. 

“You don’t need to apologise,” Seren told her evenly. “You were human. You had no clue what I was. You…you were enthralled with him,” she said with a shrug. 

Enthralled had been a good word for it then. Though now she wondered what the whole story was…that had resulted in her falling in love with her brother and becoming his wife, his High Lady.

“That still…did you feel…” Feyre asked her, a shudder working its way through her body and Seren just inclined her head. 

“My consciousness was very much there,” she admitted. 

She had…she had been there. Not like she had been in her body…but she had been there in a sense. She couldn’t even explain it properly…and quite honestly, she didn’t want to think about it. She didn’t want to…

Very carefully, she pushed the memory of what had happened to her brother…not the screams of their mother than she could remember but of Tamlin’s father and his brothers and him…of the pain…

He blinked…then she could feel his anger, could feel his magic rumble with fury. 

“I am surprised you aren’t completely insane,” Cassian told her brightly. 

“Not any more than she used to be,” Azriel quipped, the first thing he had said since they had entered the house and she turned her head to glare at him. 

“You may be my mate, but I can still maim you,” she told him drily, making him grin.  

“I would like to see you try, Princess,” he teased her and she just raised one eyebrow at him. 

*I drew first blood,* she pointed out reasonably, making him laugh. 

*Go on. I know you want to meet your nephew,* Azriel said instead, prodding her in Feyre’s direction and she happily acquiesced. 

Of course, she did. 

She had the opportunity…she had the opportunity to finally be…to finally be a fae again…to no longer be imprisoned and her magic used for somebody else’s gain…but she was free…

Free to go wherever she wanted. 

Free to love Azriel. 

Seren was free. 

[lie-lacdreams]

Thermodynamics and Turmoil (Curly x Reader pt.6)

Thanks for the patience! I hope you keep enjoying the series 🙇‍♀️

Last

Curly x Engineer! Reader Word Count: 1.5k TW: violence, profanity, mentions of sexual assault

He knew what he needed to do, but he also knew Jimmy well enough to know how he was going to take the news. With a good bit of their journey left to go, there were a lot of sacrifices that would have to be made in order to ensure the rest of the haul went smoothly, especially when the crew was going to likely be one man down. 

Opening the door to walk down the short stretch of hallway to get to the cockpit felt like an eternity for Curly. His body felt heavy, as if he was moving through a space with gravity that increased two-fold. As he enters the cockpit, Jimmy turns back to look at him, one arm slung over his chair.

“So? What did Little Miss Abacus want? Have I ever told you how much that thing annoys the shit out of me?” Jimmy tries to joke.  His eyes narrow when he notices there is no amusement in Curly’s face. “Take a joke, man. I know you have your little crush on her, but she can be so fucking obnoxious sometimes.” He tries to get his friend to agree with him. 

“Jim, we gotta talk.” Is all Curly says as he takes a seat, Jimmy drops his arms to his sides and straightens his back.

“Shit… what’s going on?” 

Curly rubs his temples, leaning in his chair a bit, facing his friend. “I was really hoping you could tell me. Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?” His arms cross. Curly notices the first signs of defensiveness that appear in his body language and braces himself for the conversation he knows will end in a complete dumpster fire. 

“Jimmy… I know what you did to Anya. I want to believe that it isn’t true, that you wouldn’t do such a thing because you’re my friend and I care about you, but the evidence is so overwhelmingly clear.”

Jimmy’s eyes widen as he straightens even more, to the point of his body becoming stiff. “Y-You, I would never! Sh-She was asking for it! You weren’t there, Curly, but I swear she wanted it! If she didn’t she would’ve made up some sort of excuse like (Y/N) –”

“What?” Curly’s voice is sharp and his eyes are wide. His fingers dig into the cloth of his pants at the insinuation of what Jimmy was about to say. Did he try to do the same thing to her? He took deep breaths to stop himself from shaking.

“I-I mean at the time I had no idea you liked her, man. Of course if I had known I would’ve backed off but for a while it really did seem like she wanted it too. That night we talked during dinner, she seemed like she was into me.”

Curly shook his head. It was hard for him to believe his friend at this point. Each sentence that left his mouth sounded more delusional than the last. Also, he trusted (Y/N). When they had talked about their relationships with the rest of the crew members, he remembered her mentioning how she felt a slight discomfort whenever Jimmy was around, but he brushed her off and chalked it up to her not being very well-acquainted with him. 

He always saw his friend as misunderstood. Growing up together, Jimmy was a loyal friend; Curly was weak growing up and he stood up against bullies for him, so when Curly’s luck turned around as he got older, he swore he would defend his friend the same way he was defended. To Curly, Jimmy was just a little rough around the edges, and with his childhood, who could blame him? Curly swore to always be there to help him stay on the right track, but now he realised that even he couldn’t protect him from the law. 

“Jimmy… that isn’t right. They’re both uncomfortable around you. Especially Anya. You were wrong, she didn’t want it. You raped her.” Curly’s face falls even more as Jimmy’s tightens. “I love you, man but I can’t protect you from this. I can only hope that you can take responsibility for what you’ve done and eventually learn from this.”

“Curly,” Jimmy tries to hide his panic. “Wh-What’s going to happen when we get back from this?” He stays quiet, not wanting to speak the answer into existence. Instead, he just sighs and sinks his head lower into his hands. “Curly, c’mon, man.” Jimmy lets out a nervous laugh, reaching to grab his arm with a shaking hand. “Fucking answer me!” He screams, shoving Curly’s shoulder. 

Curly reacts immediately, grabbing both of his friend’s hands as he writhes, trying to break free of his grip. “You never gave a damn about me, I’m only here because you pity me, don’t you? After all of these years, you really just thought you were better than me, acting all high and mighty, bailing me out of jail and givin’ me loans and shit because you have a heart of fucking gold! Now that you’re sweet on some bitch you’ll listen to whatever she tells you so you could get rid of me, yeah? I see how it is!” Jimmy laughs bitterly, still struggling under Curly’s grip before he lunges to bite his face. 

Curly grunts as he feels something hot and trickling down his cheek, and his grip on Jimmy loosens enough for him to break free and get on top of him to start punching. Quickly bringing his arms to block his face, he manages to shield himself from most of Jimmy’s attacks and finds an opening to forcefully shove him off. With a cry, Jimmy is flung off, and Curly winces as he hears a loud crack as his head hits the hard metal interior of the ship. Checking his pulse, he sighs a breath of relief to know that he’s just knocked unconscious. Grabbing some rope in his locker, he ties his friend’s arms behind his back before rushing out of the cockpit to find Anya, running through the halls to reach the living quarters, opening the door to find her and (Y/N) on their respective beds. 

They immediately jostle up, (Y/N) reacting first, already moving towards him. “Are you okay, what happened?” She panics, placing a palm on his cheek to inspect the damage. If Curly wasn’t so full of adrenaline, he would have leaned into her touch, but he was focused on one thing. 

“I told him there would be consequences but he didn’t take it well. He’s unconscious and subdued. I’m sure he’s okay but I need you to just check and see for me, please.” He pants out.

Anya is moving towards them too, concerned. “B-But you’re bleeding too, we should make sure you’re oka–” 

He shook his head. “After. Please, let’s just make sure he’s okay first.”

The three of them head back to the cockpit to see Jimmy, still lying on the floor unconscious. Curly stays right next to him with Anya to make sure she feels a bit safer as she checks him over as (Y/N) stays by the door, watching from a distance.

“He should be okay, I think. If anything, he’ll have a mean concussion when he comes to but that may make things easier for us to manage dealing with him.” Anya decides. 

Relieved, Curly relaxes. “We’ll have to let Swansea and Daisuke know the situation now. With only five of us able to work, things are going to get a lot busier. We’ll figure out what to tell corporate when we get back to Earth. They’ll definitely dock credits off our pay but from now on, it’s better that we stay safe.” Anya just nods in agreement before standing up again. 

With the help of (Y/N) carrying his legs, Curly moves Jimmy out of the cockpit and into a spare room, settling him down into a position that wasn’t too uncomfortable. Anya ushered him towards the Medical Bay as (Y/N) excused herself. 

“I’ll go over to square things away with Swansea. It’ll just save you the stress of doing so.” She starts to walk away as Curly grasps her wrist. Concerned, she turns to face him. 

“After you’re done, could you come and meet me in my room?” he swallows. “Please?” Letting out a small sigh, she nods before she leaves, Anya urging Curly to move faster towards her office. 

Turning in the other direction, (Y/N) goes to find Swansea, assuming he’s in his room getting ready for bed. With a few gentle knocks, she hears him acknowledge the door and some shuffling before the door opens. He stares down at her, unamused, the skin under his eyes forming harsh creases.

“What do y’want?” She notes a mild annoyance in his voice, but doesn’t dwell on it, after all, he knew she would only bother him at an inconvenient time if it were an emergency. 

“Hey, Swansea, can we please speak in the lounge? Our operations onboard may have… changed a bit as of this evening.” They walk together into the communal space, and sit down at the dining table, facing each other. 

Things finally started feeling like they were slowly coming back into control, and the slight feeling of relief that (Y/N) felt piled onto her fatigue, but the night was far from over.