#oh no I wonder if the tanks in the roof of this building that was condemned for being full of dangerous chemicals

[kingcriccket]

The thing about the fall of the house of usher is that like. I think Mike Flanagan is a great character writer but... somehow maybe not a very good horror writer? Which I know is an insane take given his body of work but like. He's great with suspense, but when that tension finally breaks, at least in Usher, it tends to feel kind of... stupid rather than scary.

Which means you're watching all of these interesting, horrible people play off of one another in excellent ways, portrayed by excellent actors, as they unerringly make their ways towards extremely obviously telegraphed and kind of stupid deaths.

[multifan2022]

Fearless 3

PART 1 PART 2 PART 4

Four pushes a set of double doors open, and we walk into the place he called "the Pit."

"Oh," you hear Christina whisper nervously. "I get it."

"Pit" is the best word for it. It is an underground cavern so huge you can't see the other end of it from the doors at the bottom. Uneven rock walls rise several stories. Built into the stone walls are places for food, clothing, supplies, leisure activities. Narrow paths and steps carved from rock connect them. There are no barriers to keep people from falling over the side.

A slant of orange light stretches across one of the rock walls. Forming the roof of the Pit are panes of glass and, above them, a building that lets in sunlight. It looked like just another city building when passed on the train. One of the reasons only the people here and the higher ups knew where the entrance was. 

Blue lanterns dangle at random intervals above the stone paths, they grow brighter as the sunlight dies. People are everywhere, all dressed in black, all shouting and talking, expressive, gesturing. A group of children run down a narrow path with no railing and you can see the sweat rolling down Tris's face as she tries to not yell at them to be careful or stop. 

You know it's shocking, as an Amity transfer you understood the shock but she had to keep quiet. You were praying she would stay quiet. "If you follow me," says Four, "I'll show you the chasm."

He waves us forward as we approach the railing,  you hear the roar of water, fast-moving water, crashing against rocks. Sighing happily as Four shakes his head, the most dangerous place in the area is your favorite. 

You watch everyone look over the side. The floor drops off at a sharp angle, and several stories below that is a river. Gushing water strikes the wall beneath you and sprays upward. To the left, the water is calmer, but to the right, it is white, battling with rock.

"The chasm reminds us that there is a fine line between bravery and idiocy!" Four shouts. "A daredevil jump off this ledge will end your life. It has happened before and it will happen again. You've been warned."

"This is incredible," says Christina, as we all move away from the railing "Incredible is the word," you hear Tris whisper. You cant help but listen to their conversations, feeling the need to know everything about this girl who you are supposed to 'save'.

Four leads the group of initiates across the Pit toward a gaping hole in the wall. The room beyond is well-lit enough that you can see where we're going: a dining hall full of people and clattering silverware. When we walk in, the Dauntless inside stand. They applaud. They stamp their feet. They shout. 

A smile fills your face as you watch the transfers, the shock slowly falls off their faces and smiles replace them. You all move towards an empty table, Four and you sitting across from each other. With Tris on one of his sides, Christina next to her. A quick scan of the rooms tells you that Tori is still at the shop. 

You quickly pile food on your plate, more than you will eat but you know the tank across from you will finish it. You watch as Tris grabs a burger following your lead, but pinches the meat between her fingers, unsure what to make of it.

Four looks up at you before grabbing the ketchup and setting it in front of her. "It's beef," he says. "Put this on it." "You've never had a hamburger before?" asks Christina, her eyes wide. Taking an unladylike bite you roll your eyes as Tris looks down at her lap "Stiffs eat plain food."

Christina's eyebrows pull together, "Why?" She asks as Tris looks up, smearing the sauce on her burger while answering. "Extravagance is considered self-indulgent and unnecessary." Tris answers in a monotone voice. You look up at Four remembering how many times he said the same thing to you. 

Christina smirks "No wonder you left." You sigh, rolling your eyes. "Yeah, I'm sure it was just because of the food." The corner of Four's mouth twitches as he tries to not smile at your attitude. Tris looks at you thankfully, before slowly eating her food. 

Only a few more bites in Christina is talking again, testing the little patience you have. "So Y/n, where are you from?" Before you can answer you feel Fours leg brush against yours, when you look up you can see what hes trying to say. 'You don't have to answer them.'

You smile and turn to look at the recruits who are all staring at you. "Amity" you say smoothly picking up whatever drink it is Four poured you. You try not to laugh when all of their jaws hit the table. Stuttering over their words as they try to comprehend how you came from the gentle loving community. Four speaks putting all their questions to bed before they can start.

"Theres a reason shes here. Unless you want to experience it first hand I wouldn't ask." 

The doors to the cafeteria open, and a hush falls over the room. Without looking you know who it is, you can tell by the way the recruits act. By the way Fours entire body tenses, his eyes falling from your face to the table. You know what the newbies see in the man standing in the doorway. 

"Who's that?" hisses Christina, staring across the room at his as he marches his way over. "His name is Eric," says Four. "He's a Dauntless leader." She gasps turning back towards us "Seriously? But he's so young."  Four gives her a grave look as if asking if shes stupid before waving over to you "Age doesn't matter here."

You feel him sit down next too you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder before leaning over to whisper in your ear. "Ive been looking for you." It sends chills down your spine, he is the only person you truly hate besides your brother. You take every chance to fight him that comes your way, even if its just verbally. 

"Well, aren't you going to introduce me?" he asks, nodding to the recruits. Four says, "This is Tris and Christina." You point your fork down at Peter "Thats Peter, we haven't been properly introduced to the other yet." 

"Ooh, a Stiff," says Eric, smirking at Tris. His smile pulls at the piercings in his lips, making the holes they occupy wider.  "We'll see how long you last." You see Tris wince but turn her eyes towards you and you roll your eyes and shake your head a little. Trying to tell her to ignore him. 

He taps his fingers against the table. His knuckles are scabbed over, right where they would split if he punched something too hard. Which he did, two days before you had gotten into an argument in the control room over how much involvement he would have in training. Like a teenage boy he punched one of the walls. 

"What have you been doing lately, Four?" he asks, his arm still around you even though you had pushed it off twice. Fours eyes land on it glaring before looking at Eric "Nothing really." 

"Max tells me he keeps trying to meet with you, and you don't show up," Eric says. "He requested that I find out what's going on with you." Four looks at Eric for a few seconds before shrugging and saying, "Tell him that I am satisfied with the position I currently hold."

"So he wants to give you a job." The rings in Eric's eyebrows catch the light as they lift. You smile down at your plate, knowing exactly which job Max wants to give him. He knows Four is a threat to his job, he also knows he wont take it until forced too. "So it would seem," Four says looking back at you trying to read how uncomfortable you are. You scrunch your nose at him  and chuckle a little at his protectiveness. 

"And you aren't interested." Eric says finally moving his arm from your body and leaning across the table a little. You see Tris lean away from him, Christina's eyes still locked on him 'God please dont develop a crush' You think. 

"I haven't been interested for two years." Four answers

"Well," says Eric. "Let's hope he gets the point, then." He claps Four on the shoulder, a little too hard, and gets up. When he walks away, when hes far enough away you groan and dramatically throw your head back. Thanking whoever was watching that he finally left, but also cursing them that he came over in the first place. 

"Are you three...friends?" Tris asks quietly, its like shes afraid to speak you dont know if your grateful for that or not. "We were in the same initiate class," Four says. "He transferred from Erudite." You finish sliding your plate with mashed potatoes and a half portion of green beans left towards him. 

"Were you a transfer too?" Tris says a little louder this time, causing the others to look back our way. You know he wont answer, and can almost see his walls slamming up.  "I thought I would only have trouble with the Candor asking too many questions," he says coldly. "Now I've got Stiffs, too?"

"It must be because you're so approachable," She say flatly. "You know. Like a bed of nails."

He stares at her, but she doesn't look away. Looking him in the eye is a challenge. Its yet another moment that shows her divergence. Another moment that shows how hard this is all going to be for you. "Four" You say lowly breaking his attention away from her, he looks back at you and nods when you flick your head to the side. Dismissing him without undermining his authority. 

But just before he walks away he says "Careful, Tris" in a tone that conveys he isn't done with whatever that was that was happening. Your eyes stay on him as he makes his way over to another table, the one with Zeke and Shauna. Both who wave at you before putting there attention on him. 

As you're watching him you're listening to Christina "I have a theory.. and that is... That you have a death wish." The two girls laugh and continue their conversation, but to you it isn't a joke. She doesn't understand the danger shes not only putting herself in, but all of you in. You don't even want to think about what would happen if they found out about her. 

Because if they found out about her, it wouldn't be a far leap to you. And if they found out about you, they would find out about everyone.. Anyone who was even slightly divergent would be in danger all because of one stupid girl. 

Anger rose in you quicker than you could get a handle on it. You stood briskly from the table grabbing both your and Fours plates and cups. Walking stiffly from the table, your breathing was getting heavier. You knew you needed to get out of the room, either to the gym or the parlor.

 You didn't meet Zeke, Shauna or Fours eyes as you practically storm from the room. The last thing you heard before the doors slammed behind you was Christina.

"Was it something I said?" 

~~

You knew you only had an hour before you had to meet the group back down in the dorms. So instead of going to the gym where you would spend hours, or the parlor where Tori would ask too many questions, you went to your room. You didn't lock your door, knowing that one of your three best friends would be following. 

Most likely Shauna, and about five minutes later as you were changing into leggings from your jeans she walked in. Zeke was the only one of them who ever knocked. Shauna said it was because she had all the same lady parts, Four said it was because he had seen it all. Which wasn't the point, but whatever. 

"Ok Girl.. What was that? Did Four piss you off? Want me to sick Zekey on him?" She said quickly after shutting the door and throwing herself across your bed. You sigh, moving towards the bathroom to brush your hair up into a pony tail. You had to be careful on how you answered, you always did. It was yet another thing that was exhausting about your life here. 

"Those girls were just driving me nuts, after the stress of being in the city today I was just done." You say rubbing your eyes before leaning your hands on the counter. 'Arent you tired of lying to all your friends? ' That voice called doubt.. or depression asks silently in your head. 

Shauna is one of the easier ones to fool, Zeke a little harder but Four could read you like a child's book. You were grateful she was the one who came up, it allowed some of the weight to fall off your shoulders. Pulling your shirt off you stood adjusting your sports bra, then splashing cool water on your neck. 

"Want to hang out after you put the kiddies to bed?" She asks looking your way, even if she cant read you she can see the tension in your shoulders. 

You shake your head "Im gonna go for a run before I go to sleep, try to work out some of this energy. Gotta be on point tomorrow, I want to be the one to break that Peter fucker."

~

~

~

@coolestgirlhere

[fallensnowfan]

Been about half a year since I made my post about my thoughts on the WT100 most popular characters, and I wanted to make an update for some.

Luffy - Very impressed by him telling Pigeon Guy to watch his manners on Egghead. I would love it if he was nowhere to be found when the story returns to Egghead, and the explanation is withheld for several chapters. Build up to something like the situation in chapter 958, explain the weirdness surrounding Kiku’s story during Wano’s epilogue, then have the Grand Fleet arrive in dramatic fashion, to a similar effect as Luffy, Law, and Kidd arriving at Tokage Port.

Zoro - The more his combat prowess grows, the more brain cells he loses, naturally. It's a constant battle for him.

Nami - Shirahoshi’s and Tama's big sis, I love that she has maintained her fun and survivor sides, over 1000+ chapters into the series, and that she is still growing as a character. Her being a glass canon of sorts is so much better than her gaining abilities and powers in a more typical shonen-fashion.

Usopp - Statue lad currently, I wonder if Zoro is secretly judging him for not having struck a cool pose before being petrified. It's okay, I think he's cool either way and he achieved major and meaningful things last arc, he can take a break for now.

Sanji - Generally prefer certain fandom interpretations of his character than canon these days. He has some bright spots post-time skip here and there, but fandom Sanji can fully embrace and maintain what canon Sanji could have several hundred chapters ago.

Hancock - I'd love it if she and S-Snake reconciled and teamed up to fight against the WG.

Yamato - I get that the character is meant to be a kinda shallow and immature imitator of Oden, taking on his name because “Oden” is a figure loved by everyone and represents freedom, while “Yamato” is a lonely and isolated child, unable to escape imprisonment. Though even with that role of being a storytelling device to have the Akazaya and Momo face their pasts, and the fact that blindly following Oden is restricting them, I don't think the character was used especially well. Forcing Luffy away from reaching the Scabbards on the roof was a stupid and grossly selfish move from Yamato.

Rather than having Brush-face return after being felled, have a Kiku who is struggling with exhaustion after fighting Kaido cross paths with and feel that she needs to keep up with Yamato(”Oden,”) as a protector of Momo. Have her collapse from exhaustion not much later, after taking offence to someone saying she should take a break to rest, or to help Tama instead, showing that she’s pushing down the part of her that cares for children with the character we established her caring about during her introduction, and have Kin’emon be there to see it happen. It would be a more grounded and clearer way of showing that Kiku stubbornly committing to the role of retainer is harming her and that she feels she can’t be herself while in the role.

Smoker & Tashigi - Would love to see one or both of them turn away from the Marines at some point, maybe have a hand in disbanding Cipher Pol as an organization.

X Drake - I'm curious to see him connect back up with SWORD and inform them on his experiences in Wano, and to see how his fate being intertwined with Law's will come back up in the story.

Pudding - I really want the Fire Tank Pirates to break her out of Blackbeard's ship, a Lola and Pudding reunion would be so fun.

Kiku - "Oh no, I scraped my forehead, if only there were a tall pretty samurai lady to take care of me." Ahem, oh right... My thoughts on Kiku's character. I want her to meet the crew outside of Wano! She got along really really really well with them in an incredibly natural way, carried the arc for about 75% of it, and is the only ally who was present for every major beat of it, though did it quietly.

Luffy respects her a lot, and I find it funny that the fandom wiki still says she let her emotions get the better of her, rather than highlighting the razor focus and self-control she displayed, after being taunted by Urashima. Tell me you don't understand the character, without telling me you don't understand the character. Her role in the Samurai family is very similar to Katakuri’s for the Charlotte family. Someone who tried to take on the emotional burden of everyone she cares about.

Izo - So cool in episode 1063, Oda, give us more stylish gun users! So were those like pure haki bullets he was firing? So cool! He lived a fulfilling life outside of Wano, had new experiences, and made new friends and family, while his old comrades from Wano suffered. He wants those in Wano to have a chance to experience the happiness he did for the decades he spent at sea. Somewhat of a mirror to parts of Ashura’s story. Ashura fell back into an old way of life, while Izo found a new one with the Whitebeard Pirates.

Hiyori - Toei, if y’all read this (I know they won't but they should!) kindly add a scene of Hiyori smashing her shamisen over Snake loser's dumb head, as a treat. I hope the anime extends her performance of Moon Princess with Brook, and her reunion with Toko.

Shirahoshi - Way braver than much of fandom give her credit for, went to Mariejois as her first trip to the surface, which is probably the scariest place on the planet for her. Didn't attack Charlos herself, because it would have destroyed everything her mother worked so hard to achieve, thought still rejected his words to his dumb face. Otohime would be so proud of her. Tangentially related, I'm curious where the Sun Pirates went, after working together with Jinbei to escape from Totland.

[fighting-these-demons]

Bucch*g*ri liveblog ep1

Alright let's start Bucchigiri!

I'll Tag it .... " Magic Carpet Slide " for now. I may change it later.

Alright let's jump in!

I would LOVE to have gyoza for breakfast! 😢

My instincts are to call MC Yusuke-lite but from the 1 review I watched the only thing that stuck in my mind is that he's not much like Yusuke despite looking so similar. So I'll just call him MC until I have his name.

Oooooooooo haunted shrine! Better run boys! Also are they skipping class after drinking all night? And sleeping in the shrine? I wonder if these two will be important? They're certainly silly! 😂

I like the OP! I like how Kazuma-lite's trio have matching hair and eye colors! Depending on how things go I may root for them as an ot3. 💖

Blonde is certainly giving off sweet sunshine with a dark side vibes and Blue is giving irritated and short fuse tsun! Very Kurahi-esque!

Idk how I feel about the main female character's design. It's a bit much for me but I may love her idk. She's certainly precious.

If character design is anything to go by then I'll be rooting for Dark Blue Buzzcut. He's got The Vibes

The teacher/Principal/Business man has a Cat Ear Butler Friend?????????

Ok that's what I'm Invested In! 💖💖💖💖 I hope Neko-mimi Butler Guy is an adult chasing after Business/Teacher/Principal guy!

It could be funny if he's like a younger sibling trying to ruin his career via family shame though. 😂

Big Blue Man with intense beard is looking like my biggest crush actually but poor MC is terrified of him.

Oof MC needs an adult! 😨😱

AAAAAAAAA NOOOOOOO!!!!!! NOT KAZUMA-LITE SLEEPING OUTSIDE ON A FLOOR SOMEWHERE NOOOOOO!!!! 😭😭😭💔💔💔

SAVE HIM MC!!!!!

Oh dang he looks completely different when his hair isn't curled and gelled. I like his curled and gelled hair better though I think.

I didn't see the two from earlier in the OP so I guess they're not in the show much.

Are they really having some Brick House 3rd year fight Kazuma-lite who is apparently a 1st year???

Kazuma-Lite is on the Minato Kai team.

This school looks like its crumbling apart? There's holes in the roof and windows? (Also there's a dome and spire roof?) Why are they allowing classes in a building that can't withstand weather?

There's a big ttity redhead in a tank top (that's gotta be against dress code) and wearing the boys uniform (based), a big guy with a purple perm, and a guy wearing a keffiyah AND a cross around his neck? Confusing.

I'm just guessing that no one in this series gives a single damn about dress code.

Kazuma-Lite is named Matakara.

Lmao MC is NOT impressed by this fighting BS. Damn why does the school look so dilapidated? That's a ton of graffiti.

The business man must be a teacher or principal.

There's garbage and toys in the high school hallway???

Clearly this man isn't paid enough and he seems like a wreck. Love him. (Hope he doesn't turn out to be a creep)

Oh hey it's just like Wind Breaker! 😂👍

Those two guys in the center seem like they've been held back for 9 years!!! 🤣🤣🤣

Oh dude that one guy with the cool undercut and ponytail though! 💖💖💖

Sjsjsjsjsjsbs

LMAO hes the prettiest boy in class good for him! 😂

I saw 2 girls!

MC is Arajin

3 girls! (Yeah uniforms seem optional or the dress code just isn't enforced)

4 girls! There's the main female character.

Dang I can tell the other girls will be non-existant. 😭

Love that in his mind He would be taking Her name lmao. Wonder why?

Blondies skirt is cute!

Matakara's shirt has a built in tramp stamp in the shape of a heart God Bless! 🤣

Oof. The other team has SS initials and their logo looks like the Nazi SS lightningbolt. 😬😞 well. That's shitty.

That unintentionally turns this guy into a skinhead.

This must be in the south of Japan to grow palm trees like that.

Aw good for Arajin! He got a girl on the first day!

DUDE YOUR EXPENSIVE MUSICAL INSTRUMENT!!!!!

You're leaving it in a room full of guys that would absolutely sell it?????

Hiei-lite tripped him and wears orange shoes. Good choice fir his teal hair.

What is at the end of blondies pigtails? It can't be his hair because it can't be locced at the end like that and flowing at the top so it's sort of like pom poms?

I can't believe that worked! 😂

Run Arajin run!

Sjeisjsj ahahahahahahahahaha lost his glasses and ran into Matakara to boot. 😂

Oh wow what a look! Work boots with thay kilt/skirt/what have you is such A Look! Love it! 💖

They're bith shocked that he knows him! CHILDHOOD FRIENDS!!!!! AAAAAAAAA

Well. Its over. That's The Ship!

Aaaaaaaaa they were PRECIOUS!!!!!!! 💖💖💖

Wait a second. His hair is NATURALLY curly. So why was it straight like that during the OP?

Does he have a Secret Twin that perms his hair straight?

Poor Arajin is in Shock from the reversed height difference. 😂😂😂😂

Blondie us now curious and Teal Terror is looking upset and insecure. Matakara is SO EXCITED!!!! Aaaaaaw! 💖 He's been hoping to see him again for years!

He introduces him as his childhood friend aw! 💖💖

Ehsidnsjsjshsisb Blondie is shocked and bewildered and curious and passive aggressive and Teal Terror is full jealous/bitter! Love it! 💖 I may root for the ot3 anyway because I bet they're cute and have middle school history!

Aw! I can't tell if he's just insecure that Matakara is so much bigger and more masculine than him now or if they parted ways on bad terms. That definitely hurt and disappointed Matakara though! :(

Hmmm he moved away for a while and considers the town bad luck. Surely if he moved away and then moved back other people should recognize him too right?

He didn't look too much when he got to the gate. It also didn't take long to get to the gate. What happened to her? I hope she's ok.

Oh no! He didn't go back for his bass/cello?????? Damn that thing is long gone. His mom is so cute! I love her!

Lmao that looks like the kind of drama I'd watch too if it existed! 😂 what corruption leads to this nun breaking her vow of celibacy? Find out next week!

I hope that wasn't him calling his mom an old hag. 😕

This nazi hideout looks so dumb. They stole playground teeter totter spring rides and put them on the roof with Buggy The Clown and a stolen McDonald's playplace slide.

Lmao it actually has either Hazi or Nazi on it are you kidding????

Counter faith man stands out front to confuse people entering

They stole a jungle gym and broke the floor with it and the word gym is spray painted on the wall.

What an interesting voice for this guy. I'd have chosen differently but. Well. He is the head of the nazi group so like. I'm not invested.

Oh he got confused and put the Butterfly on his Left Shoulder instead of his Right. Kagamine Instructions Unclear.

Oh man Skinhead was about to be saved by the power of love and a crush on Matakara before he took that boot to the face. Hopefully he'll get another chance!

SHWIENEBDUDHEBSISSUSHBSJSJS

I love this fictional sacrilegious drama! They ought to make it it's own anime!

Damn that must have been hard on both of them.

Theory that will likely be debunked:

Arajin has this guilt about not standing up for his friend and likely stopped talking to him because avoiding him was the only way to avoid his own cowardice. Meanwhile I bet Matakara feels like he lost his best friend because he was too weak that day and trained for years to be string enough to protect himself so that Arajin doesn't leave him behind out of embarrassment again. Since he's convinced that Arajin is awesome.

IT WAS ARAJIN THAT SAID THAT TO HIS MOM! HOW DARE!!!!

The background shots are getting funnier because today 7 background guys decided to get the same haircut.

Absolutely no one is paying attention to this poor frail man! 😭😭😭😭💔💔💔 Poor Teach!

Oh no! She's missing! What happened to her yesterday????

Teal Terror is BIG MAD that Matakara thinks so highly of this new guy and that the new guy blew Matakara off.

Oh thank goodness she was just skipping class.

She's gonna absolutely shake him down for cash. Go girl go!!!! Take him for all he's worth! (That or because she lives here and she's used to the guys here she must think he's gay and a twink on sight alone lmao)

Mahoro is her name!

lmao Matakara what timing! Teal Terror is so jealous lol.

Aw Blondie wants to do the right thing and Teal Terror said "Nah, Fuck 'im!"

They really made him go to an arcade? How do they even still have an arcade?

He's so fucking fake! 😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂

Oh No it's Creep from the OP's underlings. 😨

TEAL TERROR LIVES UP TO HIS TITLE DAMN!!! Just left him out to dry like that on purpose because he's so bitter! 😂

Aw dang the teacher isn't dating the greeter. 😭 Jasmine must be cute.

Oh hey what are the chances that that's where Matakara has been sleeping?

A flintlock? Oh damn a kid with a gun. OH SHIT

I wonder how they saw it? They wouldn't have been scandalized by him ending up on the ground so I wonder if it looked like he really shot himself?

The dumbest horniest teenage wish possible.

Is this gonna be a western interpretation "Be Careful What You Wish For" sort of thing where his wish is twisted into something he didn't expect? Or will his mind be read and will he end up with the girl?

Don't they have extremely strict public decency laws? How has he not been caught by a cop yet?

Why is Blondie fully naked in front of a window???????

Damn Teal Terror came by specifically to talk shit and try to take Arajin down a few pegs. 😂 Damn dude is down bad!

He didn't know just how much Matakara apparently idolizes Arajin.

All that effort and fun wasted. o7 Better luck next time my guy.

While Arajin's looking up info on if he's going crazy he doesn't question why this genie looks so similar to Matakara physique-wise? Not even for a second?

Oh his hobby is stamps. Neat.

FLEECE HIM GIRL!!! TAKE HIM FOR ALL HES WORTH! WALK OUT WITH THE BAG!!!

Oh man he didn't think to practice ignoring him and not responding before the date??? 😂 maybe he thought he'd be gone before then.

Why did they choose ice cream when statistically that would be a terrible idea? Shouldn't he know by 16 that he doesn't tolerate dairy?

Damn girl just leave. This amount of secondhand embarrassment isn't worth it.

Shsusjsjsusjsh she says the meanest shit in the sweetest voice. Love it.

Also I like that they have her in accurate Lolita worn in an Otome style with a more casual petticoat and less accessories. Although I think her look could have used wrist cuffs.

Ahahahahahahahahahahagagaga

Dude on the first date?????????? He's insane.

Wow they're really leaning into that SS lightning bolt huh?

😬😞

Oh are he and her working together or enemies that try to fleece the same targets? That was some look.

Why are they after Arajin? What could he possibly have done? He's some frail transfer student

WHSUSBSJSJANS

Well. That's certainly a reason to fight him. It also makes me look at her shenanigans less favorably for sure.

Oh damn Teal Terror really fucked up his chances with Matakara! Matakara is massively pissed and disappointed. He's off to save the day!

Go Matakara go!!!!! 💖💖💖👍

He Jingles and he Jangles as he kicks the shit out of people. All those chains. -20 to stealth

😱🤢

AW HELL!!!!!!!!!!!

REALLY?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!

NAH Y'ALL I HATE IT HERE!!!!!!

😫😭

Look. I stand for people's right to ship whatever they want for fictional ships.

That being said Incest will make me sick every single time. 🤮

Man I wanted to like her too! This sucks!

Anyway

35th victim? What is wrong with the both of them????

Also he's clearly some kinda queer because before he knew Arajin was on a date with his little sister he was Making Tongue at him like......😐

Aw dude dont say it. 😣

He's gotta scream it every time in order to fight doesn't he? Aw man. I gotta get used to this quick. 😩

Man I LOVE the way they animated Head Honcho Nazi flying off though that was sick.

The ED.....

The cast likes her???? When she wants to fuck her brother???? They're into that?????

There were 3 whole other girls? Are the rest of them all lesbians exclusively?

What is going on????? What'd she do? Drink Love Potion #9????

The ED would be really cute without context. With context I kinda hate it right now.

I do like how its animated though. And the song is cute.

This is gonna be one of those 3 episodes to give it a shot type deals.

[storylocke]

Alolan Dusk 4

[It's still a few hours before dawn but a lone figure stands just inside the cave entrance. It had been watching the lights of the Pokemon Lab as the shadows within moved and chattered. The powerful Psychic listened intently to their every word. Some, naturally, had been just friendly banter, but the rest… oh the rest. The lights of the building had gone dark, the communication had ceased. The metallic hunter steps into the pouring rain and moves to where it can sit atop Ten Carat Hill. Its colorful eyes intensify as it gives a snarl at the cozy, broken little shack.]

"You can’t leave well enough alone, can you?"

Kukui:

[Hasn't really been able to sleep at all, but jolts awake at some… sensation. There’s a hostility in the air that he can practically hear ringing in his skull. Stepping out of his room, he gives a harsh whisper up to the loft.] Ilima! Are you awake? 

[There comes a soft stirring from somewhere behind him, curiously drawing him towards the couch where the borrowed outfit is still draped over the back of it. Figures. Despite the offer to use the bedroom up the ladder it looks like the worn out kid never made it that far. The poor agent appears to be sound asleep after only getting off his shoes before passing out.]

Kukui:

[Knowing Ilima, he'd been burning the candle at both ends for the last week. Maybe he isn't one to talk. As he stretches out a hand to shake him, Kukui pauses to wonder if maybe he's just overreacting now. Still, he softly places a hand on Ilima's back] Psst! I need you up.

Ilima:

Hm? [Rolls over just enough to look up at the man. The room holds a faint glow from the massive fish tank nearby, but he can still see that outside it must be dark.] Kukui? What time is it? 

LIIIIIE-EHHREGGHH!!!

Ilima:

[Sits up with a start at the inhuman cry shattering the night.] What was that?!

Kukui:

[Looks toward the window where the alien cry came from.] That's no Shadow. C'mon, let's get you out of here!

Ilima:

Me? What about you?!

Kukui:

Not now! [Grabs Ilima's damp trench coat and tosses it to him. Slips on his lab coat] Get all your stuff, and head for the basement. [Gives a sharp whistle which catches the attention of several Pokemon who'd been sleeping in places around the main floor. Pulls out a few Pokeballs to start recalling them and looks back at the kid.] Don't ask, just go! 

“To make a prison of these little islands… Do you really think I could be bound so easily?”

Ilima:

[Hesitates a moment at the top of the stairs and sees Kukui has frozen too. That voice… it came from within his mind as a slick hiss. He rushes down nonetheless, and follows the light of the computer screen at the end of the room where he crawls under the desk.] Kukui?! 

[With one last glance around the room, that should be everyone. A blinding light can be seen out the window. All of the windows, actually. It must have been gathering on the roof! Kukui makes his way down the stairs, skipping steps as he goes when suddenly there comes --a whistle, a howl, a screech!?-- some unholy noise pierces his ears. The surge of energy strikes with a deafening blast that nearly throws him the rest of the way down as he clings to the banister at the turn and debris flies past. As his eyes readjust, he could feel the rain now pouring in from the top of the steps and see the clouds overhead where a roof had once been. He shakes himself off and swiftly swings up the shelter door to bolt it before scurrying deeper into the now pitch black room.]

Kukui:

[Raspy as he tries to catch his breath] Hey! You… you okay?!

Ilima:

… [Holding his breath as the power shuts off and braces until the shaking stops. Hearing Kukui brings a wave of relief though and he holds up a small device to give them some light. Too small to see anything with but at least it could be useful for the moment.] Over here.

Kukui:

Good… good. [Takes a deep breath, his heart still hammering against his chest as he makes his way to the waving star-like light and plops down on the floor beside the desk.] Maybe we'll get lucky and he'll give up now. 

Ilima:

Him? [Slips the device back into an inner vest pocket, sealing them in the dark once more.] Then you heard that voice too? 

[The pair freeze again as they can hear the sound of sharp claws on the covering above them. The Beast must be trying to dig.*]

Ilima:

Somehow, I doubt he thinks we're dead.  

Kukui:

Won't be long before he finds the hole down here, yeah?

Ilima: 

[Crawls out of his hiding place and glares at the exit.] Joke's on him. We've got a full battalion down here at your command, I say we charge up those stairs and-

Kukui:

Put your fangs away and think for a moment. That thing just took out my house, what do you think it'd do to a Snubbull? 

Ilima:

[Mildly insulted, but mostly frustrated] We can't just sit here and wait for that, that… OUTSIDER to come down here-

Kukui:

Course we can't. [Gets up and turns the young agent around to look him straight in the face to make sure he hears this.] Ilima. That monster made it clear he's onto the plan. And if we go out fighting, who's gonna warn the others? I know you’re mad, I know you wanna prove yourself, but you came here on a mission, remember? 

Ilima:

[Sinks down a bit, letting out the pent up aggression with a sigh] We still need to get out of here first. I don't suppose you have some hidden tunnel or a flare gun or something we could use to put some distance between us.

[There comes another screech as a flash of light blasts out the door, letting the rain pour in again through the now open stairwell as dust shakes down from the ceiling. They needed to figure out something fast or the Beast would come down any second.] 

Kukui:

[Hesitates a moment as he hears the infernal screaming above them. A flare gun? Down here? No. Most of his field equipment had been kept in the upstairs closet. Only thing they could do really.] ...You listen to me. I'm gonna go out first, and while I've got it distracted, you run. 

Ilima:

As if that plan is any better than what I said!

Kukui:

[Slightly raising his voice] Don't be a Mudbray about this! I go. You run. Understand?

Ilima:

… … … [Softly though the mix of fear, sadness, and regret still peeks through] You know you'll never make it.

Kukui:

[Gives his shoulder a reassuring pat.] I know. But… I'm the one who dragged you into this, remember? Kinda surprised it didn't happen sooner. Now. Can you do this?

[Ilima softly agrees and the professor lets out a Ninetails at his side. The icy fox Pokemon charges up the steps with a greater ease and swiftness than Kukui can as he follows more steadily to avoid the splinters of wood that coated the damaged, wet stairway. Getting to the surface, from what he can see, it looks like a bomb had gone off as flickers of lightning showed the beach littered with the wreckage. He shoots a glare at the sky as the rain drenches his face, but he can see it. The creature glowing with Psychic energy as it floated high above him, seemingly waiting for them, as the shifting prismatic eyes shine all the more brightly as it glares back.]

Kukui:

We should have settled this a LONG time ago! [Raises a hand and gestures for it to come at him] Come on! If you're smart enough to try an ambush, why not challenge me!? You coward!

[The creature does lower itself to the ground, never taking its eyes off the man as it steps forward. Kukui slowly steps back, luring the armored figure toward the shore. It looks oddly human in a way, its hands too large and a black helmet obscuring its face, but it appears much smaller than Kukui could have ever imagined.]

“CHAAALLENGEEE?”

[Ilima makes his way deftly out of the basement to find Kukui wasn't exaggerating. True, the outside of the lab was being held by nails and duct tape, but his heart still stops a moment as he looks over the rubble. There was no time to think of how close that was when he could see the showdown happening mere feet away from him. He had to keep his promise. Carefully he crouches as he tries to creep some ways away before darting as fast as he can back towards Hau'oli City.

The monster still doesn't miss a beat as it turns to see the young man running. A shimmer of energy coats its frame again as it starts to rise, ready to fly after the fledgling agent when a blast of frigid air strikes it in the side! The Beast turns back to the fox that had shot it with a fiery gaze.]

Kukui:

Hey! We’re not done with you yet!

[As Ilima reaches the edge of the city, he feels he’s gotten far enough away to risk the flash of energy needed to call a Tauros from the Ride Pager. Dashing away. Fast as they can. Past the school... past the beach... sliding through the fenced shortcuts to get to the water. His ship was there in the port, if he could just…

The match didn't last long, just as Kukui expected. His first three teammates were down in what felt like three minutes and the armored fiend had barely taken a hit! Just as he goes for another, the Beast snarls at him again and flies at him with blinding speed! The momentum continues as it tackles the professor into the hard wet sand, its massive paw placed on his chest as the long steely claws rest on either side of his throat. Kukui struggles to breathe under the weight as he tries to punch the creature in the face, causing it to flinch as he hits something soft along the sharp edge of the mask. His fist stings, burning along the new gash as he tries instead to stretch helplessly for the stray Poke Ball that had landed just out of reach.]

[The creature gives a guttural growl at the man as its multicolored eyes turn a solid red. The voice comes with a hiss as it screams in the man's mind.] 

“I WILL NOT BE LOCKED AWAY AGAIN, DO YOU HEAR?!”

[A light starts to encompass Kukui, a shimmering golden aura that rises along the creature's arm and absorbs into its chest. Kukui stares with rising terror as the glow reveals the monster's face. He grips both hands on its arm, uselessly trying to pry the heavy black gauntlet off of him. To do anything if he could so much as breathe a command. After several long moments, the struggling ceases as the light fades and the red eyes return to their shifting prismatic glow. The beach grows dark.

The Beast rises from its feeding, somewhat calmer with the conspirator taken care of and it’s hunger momentarily satiated, and breathes in a sense of renewed clarity. There were more still out there. The agent who escaped, for one, but more. The lightning flashes again overhead as it moves from the limp foe to stare out at the sea to think. The biggest threat is still out there and coming close.]

~~~~~~~~~

A/N: I had a real internal debate on whether our monster should be able to speak or not, but overall I think this was probably the best of the original four parts of the series I did before doubts set in. Necrozma is nothing if not hungry, paranoid, and petty.

Archive

[kudosmyhero]

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (vol. 1) #4: Rescuing Master Splinter

Read Date: February 08, 2023 Cover Date: June 1985 ● Writer: Kevin Eastman ◦ Peter Laird ● Pencils: Kevin Eastman ◦ Peter Laird ● Inks: Kevin Eastman ◦ Peter Laird ● Letterer: Kevin Eastman ●

**HERE BE SPOILERS: Skip ahead to the fan art/podcast to avoid spoilers

Reactions As I Read: ● oo, a color cover! Laird and Eastman are moving up. I wonder how far along the Turtles get their colors ● I'm surprised the guys are out exercising when Splinter is still missing ● taking a breather on a rooftop; looks like Foot ninjas are closing in ● all that shading and inking!

● oh yeah, I forgot that Shredder got killed off. according to one of the podcasts, when TMNT was being made into a cartoon, the network was like, "This is awesome… but we need a villain." Eastman and Laird were like, "Well, there was this Shredder guy…" ● they deal with the Foot, suffering some minor injuries here and there, then realize the building next door is the TCRI labs; they remember it as their origin ● young Matt Murdock easter egg/cameo! ● they realize they need to tend Michelangelo's slashed arm with some stitches before they can investigate the labs ● the next night, they go back. the building has no entrance at ground level, so they get to the roof of a neighboring building and grapple over ● they make their way down several floors, then stumble into a room where Splinter is held in a chamber ● they think he's dead ● whatever race Krang's people are called, several of them are alerted by alarms ● Splinter is alive but in suspended animation ● Mike's wound causes him to fall on a control panel, which activates a transportation device. the issue ends with Leo, Don, and Raph fading away ● 👏👏👏

Synopsis: Issue four opens with the turtles out exercising on the rooftops of New York City. Not too surprisingly, members of the Foot Clan show up and attack the mutant terrapins. Also not too surprisingly, the turtles whip the New York ninjas thoroughly, although Mikey receives a serious cut on his arm. The fight ends and Raphael notices that the building directly beneath them has the TCRI logo. The turtles, a bit freaked by finding the place that created the ooze that created them, decide to investigate… but not until they go to April's place to patch up Michelangelo.

Once everyone is rested and rarin' to go, they head back to the TCRI headquarters. Donatello uses a clever ploy to defeat their security cameras (a puppet of a pigeon), and the lads make it into the building. The Turtles sneak around for a bit and then stumble into a bizarre techno lab. The guys find Master Splinter housed in a stasis tank, where he is being held in suspended animation. As Raph prepares to shatter the cylinder, the Utroms arrive in their robotic bodies armed with laser stun-guns. A fight breaks out, and ends when the TMNT poise themselves in the middle of a strange device that the Utroms won't fire upon. Michelangelo attempts to vault over the Utroms' heads to find an escape route, but his injury causes him to fall out of control. He crushes the control panel for the machine that the other three mutant turtles are standing upon, causing it to activate. Mikey is grabbed by an android as the device energizes. Leo, Raph and Don are enveloped in cosmic rays as Michelangelo frees himself and dives onto the machine to be with his brothers… wherever they may be going.

(https://turtlepedia.fandom.com/wiki/Rescuing_Master_Splinter)

Fan Art: Splinter and tots by ralloonx

Accompanying Podcast: ● Shellheads - episode 07

[creature-wizard]

...I was told that there's a part in this book where Mike claims that he used his powers to set a demon on fire, and yup, here it is:

Getting back into the car, heading for another one of our old haunts, Carl said, “I find all of this hard to believe.” He laughed. “If you're really in witchcraft, put a hex on that building over there so it'll burn.”

I thought he was kidding at first, but he said this with such a straight face, it rankled me, and not to be doubted, I said, “Pull over here and I'll show you.” There was a small bar across the street. I called up a spirit and ordered it, “Burn down that building across the street. So mote it be.” Then Carl and I got back into the car and drove off.

…

As we headed back toward Crestline, we were passed by the emergency fire truck and a Forest Service van. They were in a big rush and honked for us to pull over. “They act like they’re going to a fire,” I commented. ���I wonder whose?”

“Let’s follow and find out,” Carl suggested. Before he had my consent, he was already tailing them. They were just pulling in as we rounded a curve, and we could see that it was the bar I had hexed. Smoke was pouring out of one end, and people were running around trying to put out some open flames already starting at the roof line. Right in front of the bar, the fire truck had just pulled up, and two men got out and began unrolling a large hose. No one was going too close, because there were two butane tanks there. Suddenly, flames belched out of two of the windows, and part of the roof crashed in.

“Oh, my God!” Carl gasped. “I—I didn’t really believe you, Mike.”

Not only is this a major "Sure, Jan" moment, it also doesn't really dovetail with everything Mike's been claiming about demons so far. He claims that you need to get the rituals precisely right or the demons will attack you, and even kill you if they can. How, then, did he summon a demon while out on the road?

I mean, I think we all know that the answer here is "he's making this all up," but the guy isn't even trying to keep his claims straight. He's just making shit up as he goes.

Unlike the narrative in Michelle Remembers, which was obviously influenced by modern horror media rather than any real occult practice, The Satan Seller is obviously more informed by real occult practices. In my opinion there's just enough knowledge in here to make it slightly plausible. Warnke's narrative references things 20th century occultists and witches were actually into - astrology, lighting candles while performing spells, grinding herbs together, appropriating Hebrew (not that Warnke is aware of that being a bad thing), the phrase "so mote it be," and similar.

If this guy had been content to claim that he'd fallen in with a bunch of young edgelords in college, I think he could have had a pretty plausible narrative. But Mike Warnke was not content to claim anything so mundane, oh no.

He claims that he was basically doing all of the drugs while he was in college and was struggling financially to support his drug habit (note that his former college friends called bullshit on this), and at this time this guy named Dean Armstrong got him into Satanism because he saw a potential for greatness in this drug-addicted college student who got fired from his part-time job for stealing money from his place of employment.

Dean basically assures him that he doesn't have to worry about money anymore because whatever he wants, the Satanists will give him. And they really go all-out spoiling this guy, buying his favorite kind of furniture without him even asking:

A long, low, oxblood leather couch replaced the sagging old brown horsehair one, and there were two sets of bookshelves full of books beneath the windowsill where there had been a rickety scarred table. The biggest surprise was on the floor—two chicks sitting on a white rug.

“Oh, wow,” was all I could think of to say. “Did you two do all this since I left for the meeting?” I went over and sat on the soft couch, feeling the smoothness of the leather. “Who knew the type of furniture I like?” In my casual conversations, I probably had mentioned being attracted to certain types of furnishings, colors, etc. But I could not help thinking of Satan’s power, and my experience with the wishing smoke which Teresa had concocted for me.

The Satanists spare no expense buying this guy all kinds of fancy swag:

The next week just flew by, with the girls helping me pick out a new wardrobe of clothes and a complete set of china and silverware. The biggest acquisition of our shopping trips was a stereo set which had everything, I mean, everything. The manager of the store evidently was on the fringes of the “movement” and said whatever I chose was mine. “Get what you want. Don’t settle for second-best, Mike,” he said. “If I don’t have it here, I'll put it on order.” He had what I wanted, and it was delivered that same day.

By the way, this kind of casual misogyny is all over the book so far. He's always referring to women as "chicks" and describes treating women in really gross, disrespectful ways without showing the slightest hint of remorse. Also, the "wishing smoke" he refers to? He wished that Theresa would beg him for sex, and it very nearly worked (according to him). Theresa, in his narrative, basically brushed this off with "it's fine, you didn't know any better, you didn't really believe in the power of Satan."

Just... eew?

Oh, and he tells a wild story that supposedly demonstrates the power of demons over the physical world:

The day before the first meeting at which I would preside, I still felt touchy about how to call on those demonic spirits. I had already read one case where two jokers had been fooling around and had stood in the wrong part of the circle, with their toes on the pentagram, and the demons had crushed them to death. Their rib cages had caved in like balsa wood under an elephant’s foot. Exactly the same thing had happened to both of them. They were twins in death.

Honestly? The dude's repeating a whole lot of which hunt rhetoric in this story, but as a general rule even the witch hunters of Europe didn't make claims this wild.

I am quite confident that what all of this amounts to is Mike Warnke's personal twisted power fantasy. In the narrative, he's being lavishly spoiled and set up to become this super important Satanic leader for absolutely no good reason. He's basically this egomaniacal nobody who shows every sign of being a liability in the long-term, but they treat him like he's the shit.

If Mike Warnke had been born a few decades later, he'd have probably been writing fanfiction about seducing Black Widow as Doctor Doom or something.

[theycallme-thejackal]

@wonderlandleighleigh really wanted the road trip fic, so...here’s a rather long road trip fic (that I had to write twice because tumblr crashed).

Pairing: Lenny Bruce & Midge Maisel Rated M Warnings: Sexual Content

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

“If our ancestors could see us now.”

They’re sitting on a bench two hours north of Phoenix while the attendant fills the gas tank. Midge looks over at Lenny and licks her ice cream. “They’d wonder why the fuck they spent forty years wandering the desert only to watch us wandering a new desert.”

“Yes, but we have ice cream,” he points out.

"Right. I’m pretty sure the Israelites didn’t have ice cream three thousand years ago.” A drip of ice cream slides down the side of her cone thanks to the Arizona heat, and she licks it away before turning to look at him again. She giggles quietly. “You’re staring again.”

“Trying to figure out a joke about what you just did to that ice cream cone.”

She quirks a brow. “Nothing yet?”

“You’re the authority on dick jokes. I’ll just stay in my lane.”

“And it’s vanilla. So many jokes can be made about a licking a vanilla ice cream cone.”

He laughs.

---

Lenny takes the next leg of the journey, and Midge sits next to him much closer than necessary.

Right against his side closer.

His arm is draped over the seat behind her, his fingers stroking her bare shoulder occasionally, and it’s nice to be with him like this. Like they’re a real couple. They haven’t talked about anything real yet, but it feels like they’re headed in a positive direction. The direction they were headed before Carnegie Hall and his conviction in New York.

“Oh my god,” she breathes as she looks out the window. “Lenny, we have to stop here,” she says.

“Why? We’re only two hours from the California border.”

“Because look,” she says, pointing out the window.

He follows her gesture. “Oh my god.”

He parks a minute later, and they both get out of the car, walking up to the building. Both comic approach wide eyed and uncharacteristically silent. Because in front of them is the most insanely garish thing Midge has ever seen in her entire life. 

The Rusty Bolt is a bright green building with two porches. There’s a pink Edsel parked out front. But the most insane part of all the insanity...

There are mannequins. Everywhere.

There are some on the upper porch and the lower. There are some in the yard out front. A few on the roof. There’s one dressed like Elvis leaning against the back of the Edsel.

They stand there and stare at it for a long, long time.

“Lenny...”

“Yeah?”

“I think I’m having a malfunction.”

“Too many jokes?”

“Too many jokes!” She cries. “I could talk for three hours and not run out of jokes about this place!”

“Only three hours?” He teases.

“Four if I really put my mind to it.”

“Atta girl.”

---

“Lenny, I am not eating here!” She laughs as he tugs her by the hand.

“Why not?” He asks with a smirk, walking backward toward the building.

“It’s called the Roadkill Cafe!”

“C’mon, there’s no way they serve actual roadkill,” he says, tugging her forward and wrapping his arm around her shoulders as he leads her into the restaurant.

---

“They have definitely served roadkill there,” she says as she walks into the motel room.

“It’s not like we ate roadkill.”

“No, because I made sure to order something I knew wouldn’t touch the stove.”

He laughs and sets their bags down before closing the door. “This is fun,” he says when she turns to face him.

Midge raises a brow. “You sound surprised.”

“I’m not - I’m not surprised,” he says truthfully. He rubs at his jaw for a moment. “I just...the last few days, I’ve been worried about what it was going to be like when I got back to the real world. And it turns out it’s really nice. Because...because I’m with you,” he explains a little shyly.

The smile she gives him is bright and genuine, and she steps toward him, slipping her arms around his waist and kissing him softly.

They don’t talk much after that.

---

“Thanks for coming to pick me up.”

Lenny’s arm is draped over her waist under the sheets, his fingers delicately tracing random patterns over her naked back. Her hand cups his jaw, and she enjoys the way his stubble gently scratches her fingertips as she caresses his face.

“I thought about calling instead,” she admits. “But...then I realized - ”

“You didn’t know how to contact me. Couldn’t get that information from your spook brother?” He teases.

“That’s not what I was going to say,” she responds. He raises his brows. “I...I realized that if...if I had gone through what you did for the last couple of months, the thing I’d want to do most when it was all over...” She swallows thickly. “Would be to see someone who loves me, and - ”

He cuts her off by kissing her soundly, causing her to inhale sharply through her nose. He rolls her onto her back and presses against her, making her gasp against his lips as she drags her leg up to hook around his hip. “Lenny, I was - I was trying to tell you - ”

“I love you too, Midge,” he whispers, pulling away and meeting her gaze. “The first thing I was going to do when I got out was call you and tell you that.”

She feels tears pricking her eyes, and she takes a deep breath to steady herself. “I love you,” she breathes as she tenderly rubs her thumbs along his jaw. “And I missed you so much.”

He kisses her lips. Then her cheek. Her neck. “I missed you too, sweetheart,” he murmurs against her clavicle. “You have no idea.” He continues kissing his way southward until he can settle between her legs and work at making her scream again.

---

The alarm goes off at eight, and Lenny rolls over, hitting the snooze button before curling back around her. She kisses the hollow of his throat. “We need to get up,” she murmurs.

“Not ready,” he grumbles, nuzzling his nose against her hair. “Ten more minutes.”

Midge giggles and tilts her head up for a quick kiss. “You can have ten more minutes while I shower,” she says as she slips out of bed.

That seems to pique his interest, though, and he joins her in the bathroom a few minutes later.

Three hours later, they cross the border into California, and Midge peeks over at Lenny. He seems more relaxed today. She’s not sure if it’s because it’s his first full day out of treatment or because of all the sex, but she’s choosing to give herself the credit.

The windows are rolled down, and he lights a cigarette, passing it to her after taking the first puff. “Tell me about Kitty,” she says.

She looks at him long enough to see the smile form on his lips before she looks back at the road. “She’s amazing, Midge,” he says with a softness she rarely hears in his voice. “She’s six and smart as a whip. Started reading at five years old.”

“That’s early,” Midge replies, impressed.

“Right now she lives with my mother, who you’ll also meet today,” he explains, and Midge feels a little nervous about that. “But once I’m back in New York and settled, I want her to come live with me.”

“You’re moving back to New York?” She asks hopefully, the butterflies in her stomach fluttering a little more aggressively.

“My lawyers have been working on the appeal, and they think I’ve got a good shot at not ending up in a workhouse. Especially since I voluntarily went to rehab.” He takes the cigarette back when she offers it, and he takes a drag as he looks at her. “Besides...I really want to make this work,” he adds.

Midge feels her cheeks flush, and she bites her lip gently before looking at him for a moment. “I do, too,” she says.

He slides over, sitting closer to her and draping an arm over the seat as he kisses her cheek.

---

They stop one last time in Amboy for gas, but when Midge’s stomach rumbles loudly, making her flush with embarrassment, Lenny suggests they grab a bite at the cafe before finishing the drive.

“This place looks like it probably doesn’t serve roadkill,” she says as they slip into a booth.

“Probably,” he says with a smirk.

They eat their sandwiches, and Midge steals some of Lenny’s fries and forces him to have a couple bites of her side salad. “Vegetables are good for you,” she says.

“Yeah, yeah,” he mocks teasingly before picking up his sandwich again. “So how’s everyone back east?”

“Still kicking,” she says. “Papa’s writing a lot, and Mama’s matchmaking business has exploded.”

“Literally?”

“Figuratively.”

“Thank god.”

She smiles. “Susie finally managed to get everything square with Frank and Nicky - ”

Lenny raises his brows. “How’d she pull that off?” He asks.

Midge sighs as she stabs her salad. “Mei’s family may have dealt with them.”

“Ah.” He takes a sip of his water. “The Lins are scary people.”

“Yes, they are,” she agrees. “And Joel...well, he’s stopped hitting on me for the time being, so I’m grateful for that.”

Lenny eyes her with something she can’t quite identify, and she furrows her brow at him. “Sorry,” he says, shaking his head. “I just...really hate your ex-husband,” he sighs.

“I’m not exactly his biggest fan either,” she drawls.

“When was...” He trails off, seemingly thinking better of the question.

“The last time he tried something?” She finishes. 

Lenny looks a little embarrassed about the question. “Sorry, I know we weren’t together, but - ”

“No, you deserve to know what you’re walking into,” she says, reaching out and squeezing his hand gently. “It was...six months ago. He showed up at my apartment after his bachelor party.”

“Fuck,” Lenny mutters.

“We didn’t,” she promises, getting a half smirk out of him. “I immediately turned him away. He was...pretty relentless, though. Joel is used to getting what he wants. Thankfully Noah was there to get him into a cab for me.”

“I’ve never met your brother, but I like him already,” Lenny comments.

Midge smiles. “He’s the best,” she agrees, stabbing her salad with her fork. “Even if he does work for the government,” she adds jokingly, and Lenny chuckles.

---

Lenny drives the rest of the way since Midge doesn’t know how to get to his mother’s house, and when the area becomes more residential, she looks over at him. “Are you sure I’m not imposing?” She asks a little nervously. “I don’t want to put a damper on your reunion.”

He reaches for her and takes her hand in his. “I want you here,” he promises, lifting her hand and kissing the back of it. “Kitty will love you, and Ma will either love you or deal with it.”

“Gee, that’s comforting.”

He pulls her toward him, and she leans against him as he returns his hand to the wheel. “Ma is only concerned with two things: Kitty and my career.”

Midge furrows her brow at the wording as she looks over at him. “What do you mean?”

Lenny sighs through his nose and reaches for the cigarettes. Midge takes them and pulls one out, lighting it for him before passing it. “Ma always wanted to be famous. She was a comic. And a stripper. She probably could teach those girls at the Wolf a few things,” he comments with a shudder, making Midge laugh softly.

“She wasn’t really present when I was a kid. And my dad...I don’t even know where he is - or if he’s even alive. But when I started doing comedy, she...got interested.”

Midge squeezes his knee gently. “I’m sorry, Lenny. That must have been really hard for you.”

He exhales some smoke out the window. “It is what it is. And I really wanted to be a good dad to Kitty, but...”

She nods in understanding. “You’re on the right track now,” she promises. “I saw the way you talked about her earlier. You’re gonna be a great dad.”

He passes her the cigarette and takes the hand settled on his leg. “I hope so.”

---

He parks the car in front of a nice, modest-looking house in West Hollywood, and Midge adjusts the mirror so she can check her hair. “You look beautiful, Midge,” he promises, gently pulling her chin toward him so he can look her in the eye. “Beautiful.”

Lenny slides out of the driver’s seat and rounds the car to open her door and let her out. He threads his fingers with hers as they make their way up the sidewalk together. When they get to the front door, he turns to her and takes a deep breath. “You’re about to meet my kid. Last chance to back out.”

She smiles up at him and squeezes his hand. “Never,” she promises.

He kisses her softly and then knocks on the door.

[therealvalkyrie]

exactly the spring

Pairing/setting: Ushijima Wakatoshi x Fem!Reader, college!AU

Summary: Reserved biology student Ushijima finds himself falling in love when you, an adorably disorganized art student, wander into the greenhouse.

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: fluff, kissing

AN: Hi!! So, the inspiration for this one sprang from the beautiful, sexi brain of Emme ( @doinmybesthere ) way back in MARCH ahem anyway, it's done! I hope it's just as soft and intimate as you envisioned<33 Also, big shoutout to my beautiful friends Arobi ( @daqueenobooty ) and Cee ( @spacelabrathor ) for being wonderful betas and giving me such kind comments:) I hope you enjoy, and as always don't be shy about leaving comments or coming to chat! Be kind to yourselves and others.  ~valkyrie

p.s. check out this amazing art that @/54prowl made of plant boy ushi!! :D

Plants don’t talk back, Ushijima learned as a toddler. He’d babble to them in nonsensical phrases as his mother worked in the garden, and they’d only sway in the wind and listen, waxy under his chubby fingers.

A volleyball doesn’t talk back, either, not even through its bounces and echoes on hands and hard surfaces. It doesn’t listen as easily as plants, but can be herded and shaped like putty into a winning thing if you touch it right. This, Ushijima learned at his father’s hand and carried with him through childhood and adolescence.

The joy and puzzlement of you is that you do both. You listen so intently and openly with your steady eyes and soft body as the words pour out of him. And then, you reply. With your clear voice and new perspective, you offer something new. You offer companionship.

It was the second week of spring semester that you wandered into the greenhouse, eyes lit by the sun and sketchbook under one arm. Ushijima was repotting a large fern, dirt up to his elbows as he kneeled on the floor. He barely gave you a second glance, preoccupied with nestling the plant’s root system comfortably.

You settled a short distance away, crossing your legs to sit on the tile floor in front of an orange tree to sketch its still-closed flower buds with charcoal pencils. He kept working as you did, the sun sliding across glass, shadows shifting into the early evening of winter. When the sun was threatening to set over the city skyline — even with the greenhouse where it sits on the roof of the biology building — he turned to tell you he was closing up, only to find you gone. In your place, sitting on the wooden table that held newly planted basil and sage, was a drawing.

It was a single branch, detailed in shades of charcoal down to the last dewdrop. At the bottom, looping handwriting scrawled, “thank you for the peace.”

That night, he tacked it up above his desk in his dorm next to the postcard from Tendō and hoped you’d come back.

And you do, a couple of days later, on a Saturday. He looks up from where he’s filling in the logbook, this time, catching your gaze and holding it for a moment before you break away to survey the room. Today, he thinks you looked breathtaking. You’re wearing a long, flowing skirt and a sweater that makes him want to feel how soft it is, and how soft you are in it, and by the time his brain catches up with his thoughts, he’s been staring too long and your eyes have wandered back to him. It’s raining, today — it never really snows in this city, he’s learned — and shadowy droplets play across your face as they drip down the greenhouse’s arched glass ceiling, highlighting the curve of your cheekbone and making your eyes glow softly.

He clears his throat and looks back to the thick spiral-bound book on the table before him. Sometimes, when he meets people for the first time, he knows he can come across as intimidating. That worked out for him in high school and on the volleyball court, but in his adulthood, it’s been more of a hindrance than a help. It makes it… difficult to make friends here, where he doesn’t already know anyone.

And the last thing he wants is to scare you away. The last thing he wants is to break the peace you’ve apparently found here.

Which is why he barely dares to breathe when he looks up to find you approaching him where he’s perched on a sturdy wooden stool.

“Hi,” you smile and lilt, and god if it isn’t the most beautiful word Ushijima’s ever heard, if it isn’t the prettiest smile he’s seen.

He doesn’t respond, doesn’t want to scare you away.

“Uhm,” you start again, when the silence makes it clear he’s waiting for you to speak, “I have an art assignment,” you start digging around in your shoulder bag as you speak, “to draw a, um, what’s it called?”

“I don’t know.”

You pause in your rifling and pin him with such a sunny smile it makes his knee start bouncing. And you laugh, too, which officially replaces your “hi” as the most beautiful sound in the world.

“Ha, you’re funny,” you resume digging, “it was um, pretty leafy and... tropical, I think? Oh! Here.” Triumphantly, you produce a wrinkled paper from your bag. It’s the first imperfect thing Ushijima’s found out about you, that you’re shit at keeping your belongings organized, and he files it away for later reference. You hold the paper in front of your face and squint slightly to read in the shifting light. “Canna indica.”

Canna indica, native to tropical climates, notable as a minor food crop for South American Native populations for thousands of years.

“And I was told that you have it, here, in the greenhouse.”

Ushijima nods and finds himself relieved that this is what you’re asking him. Plants, he can do.

“We do. Would you like me to show you?”

“Yes, please,” you also sound relieved, like he’s provided the solution to every problem you’ve ever had.

He unfolds himself from the stool, setting down his pen as he goes. You take a step back and look up at him mildly, as though you hadn’t realized quite how huge he is.

“This way,” he indicates, leading you deeper into the maze that is the biology department’s greenhouse. The winding path back to the tropical room gives him a moment to sink back into the earthy peace of being here, even if now there’s someone sharing that peace.

The temperature change from the warm main greenhouse to the balmy tropical room prompts Ushijima to shed his flannel outer layer, hanging it on the nail hammered by the door while you step in behind him.

“Whew,” you exhale, shrugging off your soft cardigan as well, “it’s hot in here.”

Ushijima hums in agreement and tries not to look too hard at the patch of skin revealed by your cropped tank top. Canna indica isn’t too far into the room, so he just gently moves past draping leaves and ceramic pots.

“Here,” he stops, holding back leaves for you. He stops breathing again when you duck under his arm and end up so close in the narrow aisle that he can smell your shampoo. The moment passes, and he can breathe again when you breeze past him and squat down to peer at the bright, waxy red leaves of your subject.

“Beautiful,” you murmur, and he silently agrees.

You’re leaning so close to the plant he’s afraid you might topple over when you make a noise of realization and sit back on your butt to rifle through your bag once again. Ushijima knows he should probably leave you to it, but he’s glad he waited just an extra minute when you pull out a pair of glasses and pop them on your face. Adorably.

“That’s better.” You’re looking back at canna indica, now, at a normal distance.

He’s figured you’ve forgotten he’s there when you start to pull out pastels from your seemingly bottomless bag, so he turns to leave you.

A soft, “hey,” calls him back to you, however, and he’s met by your face glowing eerily in the shifting rain-light. “Thank you for your help.”

“You’re welcome.”

When he locks up that afternoon, he finds another charcoal drawing waiting for him on the table near the door, this time of his favorite agapanthus africanus. No note, this time, but he attaches all the sounds he heard from you today in its place. He also finds your cardigan forgotten next to where you were sitting and carefully folds it for when you come back.

The drawing joins the orange branch on his wall-- an odd starter garden, he thinks, but all the more precious because it came from you.

The next time he sees you isn’t in the greenhouse, but instead at a cafe a couple of blocks away, two weeks later. He’s walking past, gym bag slung over his shoulder, when he hears your laugh ring out across the outdoor seating area. His eyes find you, head tipped back in sending peals of mirth into the lively spring air. It’s the first truly warm day of the season, though you and your companion are the only patrons sitting outside, and the sun catches on your glasses sat atop your head.

Your friend says something apparently hilarious, because your giggles redouble, and an honest-to-god snort pushes out of your nose. Ushijima catalogues it in his ever-growing list of sounds you make, and pauses at the crosswalk, halfway turned back to keep one eye on you and one on the light. If you were alone, he might’ve approached you and told you that he still has your sweater in the greenhouse, waiting on a shelf between succulents, but he doesn’t want to interrupt your— date?

He isn’t sure, but the person sat there with you seems like someone you might date. Clearly also an art student, judging by the carefully disheveled blue hair and combat boots. Are you the type to date someone with blue hair? Unlikely, he decides. You seem too… bright. Too floaty to be so concerned with looking like you don’t care how you look.

Ushijima’s still debating whether you find blue hair attractive when the crosswalk light begins its countdown and he starts across the street. And he almost makes it all the way across, too, when a voice calls—

“Wait! Hey!”

He turns partially because it sounds urgent enough that it might be an emergency, and his grandmother would roll in her grave if he remained a bystander to some horrific accident. But it’s you, standing up from your seat and waving him back over. He glances at the crosswalk countdown, which lights up red as it ticks from four to three, then turns and jogs back towards you, waving a hand apologetically to the cars waiting at the light. You meet him at the metal fence around the cafe seating area, and now that you’re standing, he can see you’re wearing a yellow sundress that cuts off at your calves and drapes over your hips like the fabric was spun from pure light.

“Hello.” Ushijima talks first this time because if he doesn’t refocus his brain on something else he knows he won’t be able to stop staring.

“Hi! Sorry about that, uh, and I’m sure you have places to be, but, um, did I leave my cardigan at the greenhouse? I can’t find it, and I know I have a tendency to forget things, so,” you finish with a laugh, one hand fiddling with the rings on the other.

“Yes, you did. I put it on a shelf in case you came back.”

“Oh! That’s great!” You sound relieved, and Ushijima’s suddenly very grateful he didn’t take it down to the bio department’s lost and found like they’re technically supposed to. “Is there maybe a time I can come pick it up? When you’ll be there?”

“I’ll be there all day tomorrow, opening at nine.” 

He can’t tell if he sounds a little too eager, and he’s about to soften his meaning by telling you that they’re open today, too, and anyone can hand you a sweater, but you’re already smiling big and sunny and telling him,

“I’ll see you at nine, then. Do you drink coffee?”

He doesn’t; his coaches have always told him that caffeine can only harm his athletic performance.

“Yes, I do.”

“Then I’ll see you at nine, with coffee.”

Ushijima says goodbye and turns to wait at the crosswalk again while you swirl your way back to your seat and pick up your conversation with your friend. He can feel two pairs of eyes on him as he crosses the street, red numbers blinking down from ten, and can’t help but turn to look back as he steps onto the opposite sidewalk. Where your friend tactfully looks down into their cup of tea, you catch his eye with yours and wave. He lifts his hand halfway in a goodbye before an eighteen-wheeler stops at the intersection and blocks you from him.

Ushijima’s normal work attire is typical of an average agricultural biology student accustomed to being up to their elbows in dirt every day: practical cargo shorts, dirt-stained but sturdy sneakers, a “plant dad” t-shirt (a gift from Tendō when they’d said their goodbyes and gone away to college), and a soft cotton flannel. He’s usually satisfied with this for his shift at the greenhouse, expecting to be mud-covered at least up to his wrists by the end of the day.

But today… Today, he pauses in the dorm bathroom to scrub his face raw, and he clips and shapes his nails like his mother used to do for him every Saturday. He normally only does it before tournaments, now, and it calms his nerves to feel prepared for a Big Event, even if that event is only handing you your gently pilled cashmere cardigan and receiving a coffee he won’t drink in return.

The air that morning is heady with spring, earthy and alive, reminding Ushijima of lying beneath the hedge along his mother’s garden to pass notes to the girl next door. He was seven and she was nine, so naturally she knew everything he didn’t. She knew about the planets and why worms live in dirt and how to spell the word “catastrophe,” and Ushijima would’ve bet his whole weekly allowance that she was the coolest person in the world, if he knew what betting was. (She did, and once bet him half an ice cream sandwich that he couldn’t climb the oak tree in his backyard all the way to the top. He did, and then twisted his ankle on the way down, and she brought him an ice cream sandwich every day for a week as an apology.) She was all shiny, long black hair and dark eyes and fast words, nothing like the spring blooming around him.

You, on the other hand, are exactly the spring.

He stops at his favorite pastry place on the way to work to pick up two fresh cream donuts. The line is just dwindling from the height of the morning rush, so he manages to make it to the biology building just five minutes before he normally does.

Morning sun sends rainbows through the automatic misting spray as Ushijima unlocks the greenhouse door, letting a burst of humidity out into the rest of the building. The spiral-bound log book is there on the desk, a thick parchment bookmark sticking out from where whoever closed last night marked the page. 

Ushijima places his backpack and pastry bag on the desk and reaches to hang his key on its hook just when there’s a knock on the door.

“I know I’m early,” you start, edging your way into the room with a paper coffee cup in each hand. “But I saw it was already open, so...”

Ushijima smiles despite himself. In their second year Oikawa Tooru had told him that his smiles can be unnerving, but he can’t help it right now. You look so lovely today, in jeans and a silky tank top, with a certain morning tenderness in the way you hold yourself.

“It’s okay, come in. I just need to check the temperature controls and I’ll be done opening.”

“Sounds good,” you reply, smiling back.

As he makes his way to the temp controls on the Southern wall, you perch on the wooden stool and set down the coffee.

With his back turned to you for a moment, you allow yourself to slouch, planting two hands on the table and stretching your shoulders with a sigh. It’s earlier than you normally get out of bed, let alone actually leave your apartment, and you can already feel a quiet exhaustion setting into your bones.

But this is worth it, you remind yourself. Worth it to talk to the beautiful boy with broad shoulders and gentle hands.

He’d been unexpected. That first day in the greenhouse, you’d sat down with the intention to calm down from a tedious school day and nothing more. Your hands had moved of their own volition on that second drawing of the orange branch, scribbling out a hasty message that made your cheeks burn. But he was so present that day, in the corner of your eye but staying respectfully out of your space. And you’re not blind -- you saw the muscles under his shirt as he lifted an entire small tree in its pot. You saw the startling shade of green his eyes took on in the sun. You saw it all, and it drew you back, and now you’re here.

When he joins you back at the table, leaning back against it to face you, you stick out your hand and offer your name.

He looks at it for a moment, then back at you.

“I just, uh, realized we never properly introduced ourselves,” you explain, with a hesitant smile.

He smiles again and your heart thuds, then his big hand engulfs yours and he shakes it firmly.

“Wakatoshi. It’s nice to meet you.”

You learn in the following weeks of coming to the greenhouse that Wakatoshi doesn’t like coffee. But he does like tea and donuts, so that’s what you bring him on the mornings you can find it in you to wake up before nine. You sit with him in the greenhouse, talking and listening as he records data and waters plants and sits next to you on the quilt you’ve fallen into the habit of bringing. The occasional professor or student comes through, and you get to watch Wakatoshi show off his brains when he leaves you to help them.

There are several things you learn about him over those weeks. Number one: he never minces words. Two: he prefers grapefruit chapstick over anything else. And three: he kisses like it’s his last day on Earth.

You discover number three late one night when you decide to drop by after class, shooting him a text to make sure he’s still there. Today he’s closing instead of opening, and you missed spending your morning with him.

The city lights cast a different kind of glow at this time of night. They add a distance to everything that’s palpable as you drop your bag by the door.

“Toshi, are you here-- oh, hi.” You turn the corner to find him closing the door to the supply closet.

His cheekbones are highlighted briefly by a billboard outside flashing red.

“You should get some sleep.”

“I’m not tired. And I wanted to see you.”

“You wanted to see me?”

He takes a step towards you and you have to tilt your head back slightly to keep your eyes on his. They’re leaf green and unreadable.

“Yeah, uh,” you wet your lips with your tongue, “is that okay?”

“Yes.” He pauses for a long time, then, watching you carefully in the neon glow of the exit sign. His hand shakes as it reaches up to push your glasses from your face onto your head.

Without them, he looks fuzzy and soft around the edges.

He says, “Can I kiss you?” and it feels like there’s a bird trapped in your ribcage.

“Yes. Kiss me.”

Wakatoshi kisses nothing like you expected, all tongues and teeth and heavy fingers in the dip of your waist. He growls when you gasp and mewl against him, sucking on your lower lip as your hands find purchase in his shirt. He kisses you so absolutely breathless that you think you might pass out. Your knees buckle and you pull away, gasping with your eyes closed for a moment until you come back to yourself.

“Are you alright, little one?”

The endearment makes your cheeks flush with heat and your eyes snap open.

“Yes, I’m alright. Please do it again.”

And so he does it again, and again, and again until you find yourself bringing him home with you on the last bus that goes towards your neighborhood. He’s standing in the aisle, one hand wrapped around a pole and the other wound around you, who’s standing in front of him. He keeps you steady as the bus rounds a corner.

That night, you bring the peace of the greenhouse into your home, and the only thing you find yourself wishing for is that it never leaves.

[ashintheairlikesnow]

WIJ Day 9: Falling

CW: Building collapse, trapped, broken bones, fires/burns, nightmares, brief pet whump at the end, very brief vague ref to expected noncon that doesn’t happen

Beringer, Marc Sonders, and Mallie Sonders originally appeared in Telling Time and Hold On. This is for @whumpmasinjuly day 9, prompt: Falling

-

Houston, Texas, 2004

One moment, Miguel and Penny were sitting on the couch in his seventh floor apartment, and everything was absolutely fine. He had the Xbox controller in his hand, frowning as he watched the Elite be made an Arbiter, wondering how that tied into Master Chief and where the game was going next. “Look, Pen, I get to play as one of the Covenant.”

“Cool.” Penny was curled at the other end with a book. She didn't look up.

“Yeah, this game is going like a whole different direction than Combat Evolved, this is neat.”

“Definitely.” She still didn’t look up.

He huffed in good-natured, affectionate annoyance. God, he loved her so much.

One moment, everything was perfectly fine.

The next, he heard a sound.

Miguel looked up to see a crack in the ceiling that hadn’t been there five minutes before. “Penny? Do you see-”

She blinked, tearing herself out of the story, and followed his gaze. Her eyes widened, and his last good look at her would be seared into his mind until he begged them to take it from him. Her hair was still wet from her shower, laying dark over one brown shoulder. He remembers - or he would remember, for a little while - how her chest hitched under her tank top as she took in a sudden, sharp breath. “What do you think that’s about?”

“I don’t know… I don’t know. Uh, let’s-... let’s go downstairs and report it.” He grabbed his cell phone off the side table, while Penny dog-eared her page and set her book down. He remembered, for a long time, what book she was reading - The Da Vinci Code, because her coworkers wouldn’t shut up about it.

“Yeah, that’s scary shit. Want to get a hotel for tonight?” 

“Definitely. No way I’m staying here until they fix whatever the hell that is. Maybe the upstairs people have a water leak?”

“Maybe-” There was a low rumble - the sort of thing they felt more than saw. Penny’s voice cut off, and she gasped. “Miguel! Look!”

He glanced upwards and he saw the crack in the ceiling get bigger, right before his eyes. It snaked further across the ceiling in both directions, and the goddamn roof over Miguel’s head seemed to… sag, a little. 

“Oh, shit,” He whispered, and didn’t even bother to turn off the video game. He just dropped the controller and grabbed her by the arm. “We gotta go, Penny, come on, let’s go. I think the roof’s about to fall in!”

The walls around them seemed to shudder and change somehow. When he got to the door, it felt jammed shut, and he had to let go of Penny’s hand and shove his cell phone at her so he could grab on with both hands and yank as hard as he could to get it to swing open. The bottom edge, which had always been perfectly set just above the floor, scraped along the doormat and then dragged the floor. 

“The walls moved,” He whispered. “The walls are wrong.” His mind couldn’t make sense of what he was seeing, and he hesitated too long.

“What?” Penny asked.

“The walls-”

He would remember the seconds of that hesitation ticking by, afterward.

“The walls are wrong-”

He would wonder if they would have made a difference.

“Penny… the building’s gonna fall!”

Maybe they would both be dead, if he’d been even a second faster or slower to realize what was going on. Maybe that would have been better.

“Oh my God,” She whispered. 

He grabbed her arm and ran.

His bare feet hit cold concrete as he raced down the hall for the staircase throwing open the heavy reinforced door meant to slow down a fire. As they passed over apartments, he could see lights turning on, hear people calling out to each other. He refused to think about them, to think about anyone but Penny, anyone but himself. 

“Miguel, oh my god-”

“Just run!”

They made it into the stairwell as the rumbling became a roar. The fluorescents overhead flickered wildly as he took the stairs three at a time, making it down one flight of stairs, then a second.

It happened so fast, in the end.

It happened too fast.

He had enough time to dive, pulling Penny with him into a corner underneath the fifth floor stairwell. He threw his arms around her and held on as tightly as he could, crushing her against him as she screamed.

It sounded like a whisper as the wall next to them cracked apart and gave way, and then there was nothing holding them at all.

They were falling.

The floor was still underneath him, chilly concrete painted with some kind of smooth sealant, but the wind whipped his hair and the air felt like sandpaper blasting against his skin. He screamed, too.

The roar of the building collapsing was louder.

They fell, every second slowing to individual ticks of time. He clung to her, and her nails dug into his back near his shoulder blades. 

What a weird fucking way to die, he had time to think, before all thought was gone as they hit the ground. 

Pain spiked up his leg and he screamed in a new way entirely. The force of their landing threw Penny away from him. He reached blindly for her and grasped only empty air. “Penny! Pen!”

“Miguel!”

He hit the ground, rolled, slammed into something like a rock with the breath knocked out of him. He gasped, rolled onto his back, and was shocked to find himself in the dark still breathing, staring upwards but seeing no stars.

No lights.

There was another rumble, and he flinched and covered his head, but nothing happened. Eventually, he pulled his hands slowly down. 

The air reeked of smoke and that smell of building materials that he remembered from his time working construction back in high school, summers spent helping his uncle and dad for handfuls of cash he’d spent on girls, boys, weed, and movie nights. Way too many CDs, too, filling his CD book he kept in his car until he had to buy a second, filling that one, too. His eyes opened and closed without his say-so. He had grit in them, or it felt like it, and he coughed as his lungs kept inflating. 

“What the fuck,” He whispered. 

Then, from somewhere nearby, he heard Penny crying.

“Pen-... Penny-... where are you?”

“Miguel… what h, happened to us?” Penny’s voice cried out, somewhere close by but with the smoke he couldn’t see her. He coughed again, lungs fighting every breath - there was something wrong with a rib on his left side, it ached when he breathed, but it hurt so much less than his leg than he barely noticed. He lowered himself as close to… what used to be a floor… as he could get. 

Little easier to breathe down here.

What had they taught, when they used to visit the fire department in elementary school? If there’s smoke, get low to the floor, because smoke and heat rise and you can make it to the door. Check the knob-

But what if there wasn’t a door, any longer?

What if he wasn’t even in a room?

“Keep talking, Pen, I’m coming to find you,” He groaned. His fingernails dug into what felt like pebbles, and he was making tiny trenches in the ground as he moved forwards, his leg shrieking agony, ignored for now. His teeth ground together.

“Miguel… I’m over here, baby, pl-... please, I’m stuck, please-”

He’d remembered her face, when he first saw her again, for a long time, too. Until he had thanked them for agreeing to take the guilt and the regret away. 

He found her, only a few feet away, and she had blood in her hair and on her face, mixed with dust and dirt smeared all over. One of her arms didn’t look right, and he refused to look too closely at it, then. He refused to see the bone, visible through a break in her skin, through the blood. 

For the moment all he saw was her face and that she was still alive. 

For a second, his relief was greater than his terror.

Somewhere off to the side, he heard a cat meow, the scattering of bits of stone, the sound of it racing away from the rubble.

“I think-... I think that’s Abigail Henderson’s cat,” Penny managed, and then she coughed, so hard he knew even then there was more broken than her arm. “It has that weird kind of me-... meow. Miguel, what-... what happened? What just h-happened-”

“The… the whole building fell, I think.” 

“Why?” The cry was a wail, not really a question.

He tried to answer anyway. “I don’t-... I don’t know, Pen.” A hint of cool air whispered around him, and he shivered. But the smoke seemed to clear, for just a minute, too. He could see, now, why he couldn’t see stars. “Oh, shit, I think we’re… I think we’re underneath it.”

“Underneath-”

“The building. Or… what was the building.”

Above him, there was concrete, and twisted metal, wires torn apart from each other. Incongruously, he could see half a sofa sticking out over to one side, the other half just… gone. Nothing left. Papers were everywhere, a smashed desktop monitor. A hairbrush, neon green backing, and he just stared at it, trying to understand.

Everyone’s entire lives buried down here with them, like a city after a volcano.

“What?” She tried to roll over, cried out in pain, and went still again, craning her neck instead to look up. “Oh-... oh my god.” Her voice shook, and he covered the last bit of distance between them to grab onto her hand, leaning his forehead down until he felt her fingers twitching against his skin. “Oh my God, we’re… we’re buried al, alive-”

She started to cry, sobbing helplessly, loud wracking sobs that made her hiss in pain, but she couldn’t seem to stop herself. He just held on, as best he could, because he couldn’t think of a single thing to say to help.

Faintly, he could hear other people calling out to each other. He could hear water rushing from broken pipes somewhere nearby. There was a new rumble, something shifted, and people screamed. He tensed, lowering his head, but… nothing new fell on them. The rumbling stopped. 

“I think we’re-... we’re in a pocket, or something,” He said, his voice coming out airier than he meant it to. He couldn’t comfort her if he sounded scared, could he? He tried to swallow, but even his saliva felt thick with dust and smoke. “Penny, I think we’re… I think it’s pretty stable right here. We just have to wait for the, uh, the firefighters-... they’re going to send firefighters, right?”

“Um, yes, r-right, I think they send firefighters. I saw-... I remember from when that place fell, the, uh, the vacation place-”

“Right, right, that place in Florida, the firefighters were on the scene super fast. We just have to hold on for a little while.” He squeezed her hand, and she squeezed back. “Just… just a little longer. Can you-... can you  move at all?”

She swallowed, looking at him, the whites of her eyes seeming too bright in the darkness. She shook her head, looking back over her shoulder. The sob she wasn’t allowing out any longer was still in the thick of her voice. “I-I’m stuck under something, Miguel. I’m… oh god, I’m stuck-... my l-legs-... something’s on my legs-”

“Okay, uh, maybe I can pull you out-” He managed to get onto his knees, despite the pain racing through his nerves. He gritted his teeth and held her shoulders, trying to pull backwards.

She shrieked, holding tightly to him, clawing at him. He pulled and pulled but then her screaming fell apart, broke back into sobs, shaking her head. She had moved... maybe an inch. “Stop! Stop, I can’t do this, stop stop stop stop-”

“It’s okay,” He whispered quickly, letting go and settling back down in front of her. “It’s okay. I’m done, I’m done. It’s okay.”

She nodded, weeping softly.

He looked at the concrete and rebar and everything else on top of her, then back to her, seeming so... so small. “It’s okay, Pen. The firefighters will have something to move that off you, you’re going to be fine. It’s going to be fine. We’re okay. We’re not dead, we’re not dead.”

Yet, his brain filled in, but he recoiled from that thought. He had read books on people who survived weird things like this, and they all said that believing you would live was more important than anything else.

Don’t lose hope. Don’t give up.

He looked around the little open space they were in, bordered on every side by ruin and rubble. His own ankle and leg throbbed, but it was… it wasn’t important, compared to so much of what he could feel right now. 

He couldn’t stop thinking they would get out, or maybe they wouldn’t.

“Right, it’ll be f-fine.” She nodded, but she didn’t believe him. He didn’t believe himself. “They’ll save us.”

“They will.” He put a hand to the side of her face, and she tipped her cheek into it, eyes closing. He kept his forehead against hers, breathing slowly in and out, until his racing heart began, finally, to calm. The adrenaline just couldn’t keep rising any longer. “Penny, they will.”

The pounding headache started sometime around when the adrenaline crashed. But he kept whispering to her, as much as he could, until he ran out of words, and then they simply laid there, breathing together in the dark. 

When they heard the sirens, they both began to shout, hoping someone would call back. 

Someone did. 

They waited, listening to the rescuers working to move enough of the wreckage to find them. Miguel found a loose piece of metal he refused to think too much about - somebody’s bedframe, another piece of a person’s destroyed life - and banged it against a nearby pipe to make noise until his arms wore out. 

He broke the pipe enough to get some water from it, so he and Penny could have a little to drink. He moved to her with water cupped in his hands for her to sip. 

The firefighters kept saying, just hold on a little longer, we’re coming for you, we’re working your way, just hold on.

Just hold on a little longer.

By the time the rescuers were close enough, though, the fires had spread, and their pocket of air was starting to heat up.

-

Beringer’s eyes open in the darkness. He stares upward, seeing no stars, and feels his breath coming in harsh rasping gasps, shallowing fighting for air against the smoke filtering down into his lungs. 

“Penny,” He whispers, and doesn’t know whose name that is. Only that she’s dying, and he’s watching her fade, hour by hour, as the smoke gets thicker.

His hands move up to his own throat-

And find his collar, still there, the tag clinking softly, worn metal against his desperately seeking fingers. He rubs at his number, at his name, again and again. Runs his fingers over the leather that curves around his throat, eyes closing as tears prick hot and demanding against the insides of his eyelids.

They force their way out, run down the sides of his face, dampen his ears and then soak into the pillowcase beneath.

His heart pounds, but he doesn’t remember why.

Falling, and fire.

And her voice.

Penny, I’m so sorry-

Kid, you gotta get outta there right the hell now or it’s going to fall on you-

I’m so sorry, g-goodbye, I’m so sorry-

“I’m so sorry,” He whispers, without remembering quite who he owes the apology to. 

There’s a warm hand on his shoulder through the cotton of his shirt and he startles, jerking to the side with a whimper, looking up wide-eyed to find Marc Sonders leaning over him, wearing just a white tank top and boxer shorts. In the other queen-sized bed, Marc’s little girl shifts, murmuring to herself, her loveys clutched to her chest, their soft little heads just under her chin. He has seen Mallie asleep for naptime or overnights a hundred times. 

People who think children sleep silent or still are people who have never had them. Not that Beringer has, but…

But every child was his, for as long as he could care for them, until WRU ripped them out of his arms when they got too old to stay. 

Never again.

“You okay?” Marc asks, in a whisper. There’s real concern in his face, his voice, his eyes. He’s so easy to lie to, so easy to fool. 

Beringer wants to whisper, I was going to hit you over the head, and you worry about me? Which one of us has had our brain emptied out, exactly? But Marc doesn’t know that part, about how Beringer was going to hurt him. So all he does is swallow, lick at his lips, and slowly nods. “I’m-... I’m okay. Just-”

“Nightmares. Yeah, you guys get those a lot.” Marc glances back at Mallie, then carefully seats himself at the edge of Beringer’s bed. “You usually show up running from the kind of stuff that causes nightmares, they tell us. Although I guess if you don’t have ‘em before you show up, we make sure you get ‘em, huh?”

Beringer pushes himself up to seated, back against his damp pillows, looking closely at Marc. His short hair is all mussed up from sleeping, and it’s… kind of adorable-looking. “Do yours get nightmares from you?” He asks, leaning forward to wrap his arms around his legs.

Marc looks down. His half-smile is only a little sad, in the dim blue light that makes its way through from outside the window, around the edges of the heavy curtains pulled tight. “Not from me,” He says, finally. “But some of them come with nightmares, when they start. Things that they tried to get rid of keep coming back up. The Drip works, it really does, but if there’s really severe trauma, sometimes… sometimes-”

“Sometimes,” Beringer whispers, thinking of another terrible late-night movie, of sitting up glued to the screen watching shuffling zombies while the kids and the other daycare pets slept. “Sometimes, the dead don’t die.”

“Uh… right. Yeah. Or, abusive parents, whatever. I get them in with the counselors, I get them meds to help them sleep, whatever work signs off on. But none of their nightmares come from me, at least. That’s… that’s something, right?”

“It’s something.” Beringer can’t quite keep the dry humor from his voice, and both of them huff soft laughter, trying not to wake Mallie up. “How close are we to Hope, Marc?”

“I don’t know. I just know it’s in Montana, near the border with Canada, kind of close to Idaho. Probably… two more days in hotels before we get there. Is that okay? Mallie can’t really handle those all-day car rides super well-”

“That’s fine. That’s just fine. We should probably go to a store and get new clothes, though.” Beringer hesitates, then reaches out, and closes his hand over Marc’s, feels his fingers shift underneath his grip before Marc turns to look at him. “Marc… do you want to kiss me right now?”

Marc’s breath catches. He looks away, then back, but sidelong, as if afraid it will all dissolve. His cheeks have gone all red, just like on TV. Beringer feels his scars shift and itch, the ropey burns that had worked up his back as he had fought like hell to get through to the firefighters, to the rescuers holding out a hand, begging him to push himself through the space, to survive-

Penny was still alive when he left her-

He closes his eyes. Takes a deep breath.

Forgets her.

Marc is still watching him when his eyes open again. He smiles, but it’s slightly sad, and soft. “Not tonight,” Marc says, gently. “But if you want… do you want to watch TV for a while? Just until you feel good to go back to sleep again?”

Beringer had expected heavy hands, hard kisses. Had expected to have his own boxers pulled down over his hip, to have to make frantic explanations he can’t quite recall when Marc sees the burn scars that cover his legs, his shoulders, his back, parts of his stomach and chest. When that doesn’t happen, it takes him seconds to process, and then he smiles - brighter than he means to, more sincere than he intended - and nods. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, Marc.”

“Cool. Good. All right. Just stay there.”

Marc stands, wanders over to find the remote where it still rests on the TV stand, and comes back. He climbs into Beringer’s bed, but all he does is sit with his back to the headboard and his body on top of the covers. He turns the TV on and picks some random James Bond movie playing at 3 am, settling back to just… sit there, with Beringer, in the dark.

Beringer turns to look at him, the lines of his profile written sharply in the cold light of the television. When his hand moves, hesitantly, Marc feels his questing touch and their hands press together, palm to palm.

That’s it.

Marc doesn’t push for a kiss, or say Beringer owes him anything for this escape. Beringer looks back at the TV, but he doesn’t see - or hear - a thing.

Shit.

He’s still falling, isn’t he?

Just a different way of hanging in the air before he hits the ground and breaks.

-

@burtlederp @finder-of-rings @astrobly @boxboysandotherwhump @vickytokio @orchidscript @whump-tr0pes @hackles-up ​

[kyun-toast]

[ATEEZ] Mafia!San - Will You Join Me?

word count: 2.9k warnings: explicit language, gun use, violence, description of death (not explicit), sexually suggestive, gets a lil steamy summary: cupid has a bullet with your name on it a/n: Y/N a little dramatic and San annoying af. I wrote this in a two hour flash at 2am, so this might be deleted after I reread it tomorrow because I’m pretty sure a lot of this is just me chatting shit.

1. Yoon, David – 12:45 Note to self: likes donuts. probs dunkin’, maybe krispy? idk just look for a man w a paper bag.

“I’ll have to warn you though, the lift is under maintenance, so you’ll have to take the stairs.” The receptionist smiled at you sympathetically. “I can get someone to help you with your suitcase if you’d like?”

“Oh no, it’s ok, I’ll just find another place to stay. I have weak knees anyway.” You forced a laugh and hoped the lady didn’t notice the dead look in your eyes.

“I’m sorry about that, love.”

Turning away with your suitcase in tow, you headed towards the building opposite the hotel and hoped that the rooftop would be easy enough to access.

It was quite irresponsible of you not to have a backup plan. It seemed that being named the sharpest shooter in the underground world had gotten to your head a little, but you argued that a bit of spontaneity never hurt anybody. Though your target would beg to differ.

Being a public building of offices, it was all too easy for you to reach the roof of the building. You found that walking with your held head high and gaze set straight ahead would never get you questioned. Who would ever stop someone with a walk so confident?

Thankfully, the rooftop hadn’t been turned into some garden space: an air-conditioning fan over here, a water tank over there. You checked your wristwatch reading 12:40 and muttered under your breath. The damn hotel lift had taken precious minutes of your time and compromised your view.

You opened your suitcase to set up your sniper, giving your little black cat charm on the side of your gun a squish. Cute.

Sitting on the case with your stock snug against your shoulder, you peered into the scope to get a closer view of the revolving doors to the bank. Oh great, there’s a lamppost in the way.

Mr. Yoon was apparently quite the punctual man, always seen stepping into the bank doors after his lunch break at exactly quarter to one and therefore, your window of opportunity was thin.

“I want it done today or you’re getting sniped yourself, Y/N.” You heard the voice of your boss yap in your head again. Blah blah blah, same old threat. You argued that procrastinating the man’s death was actually something very considerate of you to do.

You heard a familiar clatter of metal hit the floor and you turned your scope to the rooftop opposite to see a man in overalls with his toolbox open on the floor.

“Lift maintenance guy?” You muttered to yourself and wondered if the mechanics of elevators ran all the way through to the rooftop. You made sure that you wouldn’t be in his line of vision and swivelled back to your original position, cursing the man under your breath for ruining your first choice of setup.

12:44

“Come on, Yoon. Lunch time’s almost over.” Your finger lay restless on the trigger, itching to get a glimpse of the bank teller.

20 seconds.

“Krispy or Dunkin’ what will it be today, entertain me.”

10 seconds.

You saw the man turn the corner and waited for him to get a little closer for you to shoot.

5 seconds.

“That’s it, just past the lamppost and you won’t even know what hit y- what the FU-?” You shouted and quickly clasped a hand to your mouth. Mr. Yoon hadn’t even made it past the post, and he was already laying on the pavement in a growing pool of blood.

Calculating the angle in which he was laying, you spun your vision around to the hotel rooftop and saw the maintenance man begin to pack up a sniper back into his toolbox. Taking off his cap, you noticed a flash of white in his jet-black hair and just like he knew you were watching, he turned with a smug grin on his face and shot you some finger guns.

“Oh, you little fucker.” You spat, and watched the man jump down into a hatch to disappear.

You slumped dramatically onto the floor and splayed your limbs to stare blankly at the sky. Never in your life had you ever missed a shot, let alone have it stolen by someone else, and your boss had your phone ringing to rub it in your face.

“That wasn’t you, was it?”

“Listen, what if? You know, what if that was my thirteenth reason? I just couldn’t take it anymore and that was it. No more Y/N. You wouldn’t even come to my funeral, would you?”

“No, I wouldn’t because you’d be too broke to have one. You realise you’re not getting paid for this?”

“Why? He’s still dead?” You sat up in disbelief.

“Well, it turns out someone else wanted him gone too. I can’t lie to our client and say that we did it.”

“You’re oddly moral for someone that runs a hotline for hitmen.”

“I’ll call you if I find you another job.”

“Justice for freelance contract killers.” You muttered weakly as he ended the call. The faint sound of police sirens filled the air as you let out a heavy sigh and lay back on the concrete.

You pictured the man and wondered who it was that would even think to render the notorious Y/N L/N jobless. Though you did have to admit that it was a clean shot.

“Skunk-hair looking ass.”

2. Kim, Seungho – 18:00 Note to self: babysitting. easy target but kid knows NOTHING.

You were stationed by a corner window in an unfinished apartment building with a trainee by your side, setting up his kit.

Stood by the trainee, you scanned to see if everything was in the right place, checking the kid’s posture too. You had been sent by your boss to reluctantly train a young recruit and you joked if you had been demoted following your last predicament. You were never in it for the money though, you lived for the adrenaline.

The boy had potential and you saw it, he just needed to make cleaner shots because three bullets somewhat near the target’s vital organs wasn’t going to cut it.

“What’s your name again?”

“Jisung. Han Jisung.” The recruit replied, his eyes never leaving yours, in absolute awe.

“Eyes on the scope.”

“I’m sorry, nobody told me I’d be getting trained by you. The Seoul Shooter? Like wow.”

“Ew, is that what they’re calling me?”

“Yeah, well I think it’s a pretty cool name, they used to call me ‘Jitman’ in my hometown, not very creati-”

You shushed the boy and tapped his shoulder as you pointed to a small figure in the distance.

“You see him through the scope? Now keep your hand steady, never feel as if you’re being rushed. Death works to your schedule.”

“Got it.” Jisung said, following the man with his gun.

“Ok, on 3… 2… 1…”

You heard the bullet cut through the evening air and hit the target neatly through his office window.

“Bro? That was so clean? That has to be one of the sexiest shots I’ve seen in a while-” You began.

“Uhh, that wasn’t me, Y/N.”

Before you could even process what had happened, you heard the rustle of footsteps patter down the stairs behind you. Taking out your handgun, you moved towards the open door to find the same man you had seen on the hotel rooftop stop in his tracks on the landing. Clad in a fitted black sweater and jeans this time, he looked a whole lot more attractive close up.

“You again?” You exclaimed; gun still pointed at the man as he dropped his duffel bag to raise his hands.

His eyes widened, not in shock, but more with an excited glint in his eyes.

“Oh my, it’s Y/N, the Seoul Shooter.” A coy smile painted his lips as he shook his white fringe out of his eyes.

“See, everyone calls you that.” Jisung interjected from behind.

“Shut up, Han.”

“Word around town is that you’ve been unemployed for some time now,” nodding towards Han, he added, “and it looks like the rumours are true.”

“I’ve actually decided to take a break you know? Let the other kids have a chance at making a name for themselves. Bit of charity work.”

“Y/N kinda got demoted because you keep taking their shots.” Han interrupted again.

“Hey, who told you that?!” You narrowed your eyes at the boy. Han Jisung was a smart ass and you vowed then and there that you wouldn’t take on any more training sessions.

You whipped your head back around to the man eyeing your body up and down.

“My eyes are up here, sir. Unless you really wanna get shot.” You spat.

“Well, I’d die a happy man if you were the last thing I’d see.” He smirked in retaliation and studied your eyes carefully. “Well, my job here is done, I better be on my way. Got a big cheque waiting for me.” He grinned as he reached to grab his bag and carry his way on down the stairs with footsteps too light-hearted for your liking.

“Why didn’t you shoot him?” Jisung asked as you watched the man disappear into the evening.

“I don’t think killing a man for taking my shots is justified.”

“What, and sniping Mr. Kim Seungho just before he gets to feel the bliss of clocking out is?” He laughed. “Do you know what I think, Y/N?”

“What?”

“I don’t know, I’m not going to say anything.”

Han Jisung tormented you the whole drive back to the quarters.

“Y/N and Skunk Man sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G. First comes lo-”

Smack.

“Ouch, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I was just kidding.” He laughed as an idea struck him, “K-I-D-D-I-N-”

Smack.

3. Park, Kiha - 10:32 Note to self: bad man. bad, bad man. but big, big cheque.

Having had your last two shots stolen, mystery Skunk Man was beginning to get on your nerves. You were seething to the point that you demanded your boss give you another job, itching to defend your title of being the finest shooter in Seoul.

Laying on the floor of a rooftop hangar, the man had the gall to pop up out of the hatch to set up his station right next to you, as if you were both on some picnic.

"Nice seeing you here today, Y/N." He said, sitting cross legged to mount a scope to the top of his sniper.

Not even bothering to take your eyes off the target, you muttered, "I got here first, you better back off." voice laced with venom.

"Well I've been promised a cheque too, we're all just trying to get fed around here."

Ignoring him, you glanced down at your watch that read 10:31. Any time now, Park Kiha would be walking through the glass bridge to get to his meeting in the twin building.

Steadying your finger against the trigger, you held your breath and counted down from three, two, o-

"I like your cat charm by the way."

You pulled the trigger only for it to stray a little to the right, still hitting your target, just a little less central than you would have accepted.

You shot up from your position to face the man laying on his side, head propped up against his hand to look at you.

"Do you have something against me? Do I even know you?" You exclaimed, carding your gloved hand through your hair.

"No uhh, but I saw your face on a bounty poster once and thought you were cute." He said, attitude too blasé. "That was a nice shot though, I was going to wait a few more seconds."

"So you saw my picture, and started following me around to antagonise me?"

"Nah, I just happened to be super lucky to have been put on the same cases as you. Big bad men have a lot of people after them I guess?"

Throwing your equipment back into your bag, you watched the man proceed to roll over onto his back with his arms behind his head to look up at the sky.

The mid-morning sun cast a golden glow over his skin and though you spent most of your life working with guns, his uniform and kit next to him looked a little different, almost attractive. They suited him a little too much and you thought that if a sleek sniper were to be personified, it would look exactly like this leather clad man.

"I should ask for your number, the way you're looking at me right now, Y/N."

"Good luck, you won't get it." You turned to step down the hatch as he propped himself up again to watch you leave.

Choi, San – 15:25 Note to self: he’s kinda hot tho :/

So, we had finally put a name to the face. As your boss handed you a folder, you were slightly taken aback at the small ID picture pinned to the top of the file.

“You might be a little happy about this one.” He said, taking a sip of coffee. “He’s been recently recruited by ATEEZ as their sniper. Quite a deadly one too. He was scouted shooting pheasants down in the Namhae countryside apparently.”

“Hmm, how much?” You questioned.

“A million dollars.”

“Excuse me? A mill-?” You choked on the air and composed yourself just as quick to nonchalantly lean against the filing cabinet and look out the window, “I don’t know, he didn’t look a million dollars-worth to me.”

“He hasn’t been in the game long, but man has he taken down some big names.”

Though you didn’t necessarily feel too attached to Choi San, you did think that you were going to miss him a little. It was nice having a friend on your level to spar with.

Who were you kidding? You thought he was hot and that it would be a shame to have to shoot him.

But on second thought, you had been itching for the adrenaline in the trigger again, and the million dollars looked a lot sexier to you than some man.

“I’ll take it.”

-

San was all too easy to find. He seemed to enjoy hiding in plain sight since no common person would recognize him in the bustling streets of Gangnam. Nestled in the corner of another rooftop, you zoned in on the recognizable black and white hair sat outside on the terrace of a café.

Once you were ready, you repositioned your finger on the trigger and focused the cross hairs on the familiar head. You were steady until San lifted his head and stared right back at you through the scope, sending you a wink.

“Shit.” You muttered, his actions throwing you off and when you repositioned your aim, he had slipped into the crowd, now lost.

“No, no, no, no, no, Choi San, ugh.” Seeing that he knew what you were up to, you got up to pace around the rooftop. Your mind worked nonstop to find an alternate solution but all you could conclude was to go home, stay low and pick another day to continue.

This man had thrown you into the worst slump of your life, but you were somewhat enjoying the chase and you hated to admit it.

The abrupt sound of a closing of a door behind you had everything clicking into place.

“You pretty motherfucker, had this planned, didn’t you?” You laughed.

Upon hearing the cocking of a gun, you turned to pull out the throwing knife strapped to your thigh and pulled his body in by his collar to reach his throat. And it just turned out that San had the same idea in pushing his handgun up underneath your chin at the same time, faces a little too close.

“I like your beret.” San said candidly, jerking his brow up at the hat on your head.

“Me, too. It’s Marine Serre.”

“Nice choice.”

“I’m going to count down from three and we’re going to drop our weapons, ok? And talk this out like adults because I for one, didn’t wanna kill you.” You bargained.

“Sure.”

“Three, two, one!” The both of you pulled away for a split second in bluff only to reposition your weapons against each other’s throats again.

“I knew it.” San smirked.

“No, for real this time. I mean it.”

“Go ahead, baby.” He smiled as his gaze dropped to your lips.

“Three, two, o-”

San cut you off by leaning into your lips, placing onto them a kiss so intense, almost mirroring the violent nature of the situation. However, what surprised you more was that you let yourself melt back into him. He let his gun clatter to the floor to walk you backwards into the wall behind, hoisting your leg up around his waist.

You broke away from the kiss for air when he smiled, “I mean, it is kinda hot, but I would appreciate it if you could stop holding that knife against my throat right now, Y/N.”

“Ugh, fine.” You muttered as San leaned back in to kiss you whilst roaming his hand around your thigh, ridding you of the rest of your knives and smirking against your lips in satisfaction.

Feeling his bulge grind between your legs, you both only grew more fervent for each other as you kissed.

“Wait, I wanna take you on a date first.” He pulled away to look you in the eye.

“Are you serious right now?”

“Mhmm, to Bar 1117.” He hummed, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck.

“Isn’t that your company’s place…?”

“Yeah, they’re gonna love you.” He whispered, peppering small kisses down your throat.

“Are you trying to recruit me or fuck me, San?”

"I mean, you can kill me now and leave for that million dollars or you can come with me for a new job and that million dollar dick."

"You're unbelievable."

“I heard you were doing freelance anyway, baby.” He looked into your eyes again, a mischievous glow blooming across his face, “So, will you join me?”

-

disclaimer: San’s pie chart hair is one of my all time faves but I also can’t stop thinking that it looks a little skunk-like. In the cutest way. a/n: I've edited this a lot since I posted it and I think I'm gonna keep it

-

Mafia AU Masterlist

[weelittleweasley]

safe and sound (f.w.)

prompt: after getting caught in the rain and chased by death eater, you stumble upon a house and look for a safe haven inside. little did you know who would be waiting for you in that house.

pairings: fred weasley x fem! reader

warnings: running away, mentions of death, mentions of war, language, anxiety, sexual tension (of course), food, some classic longing stares, don’t worry it’s a fluffy ending 

word count: 9.7k (its so long im sorry)

taglist: @rosaliepostsstuff @harrysweasleys @gcdricreads @lumos-barnes @whizboingies @lumosandnoxwriting @pxroxide-prinxcesss @c-t-h @lol-idk-oops @another-lonely-heart-blog @kaseyrose96-blog @hufflepuff5972 @amourtentiaa @parseltongueswriting @shilohpug @peachypotter @spacexcowgirl @paintballkid711 @vogueweasley @sweeterthansammy @loonylovegood13​ @gryffindcrghost​ @wand3ringr0s3 @valwritesx 

The engine of your car roared as rain slapped against the windshield, your chest heaving with fear, constantly checking your rear view mirror, pressing down on the gas as hard as you could. You whispered tiny prayers, hoping that you were going fast enough to outrun whoever was chasing you. Looking at the speedometer, you see that it slowly climbs to 85 miles an hour, then 90, then 95 as you search the dirt roads ahead of you for a clearing or any sign of life. “Please, please, please, please,” you whisper to yourself as you continue to speed through the English countryside, thunder rumbling behind you as the speedometer climbs and climbs. 

With each flash of lightning you jump a little in your own skin, mistaking it for the flash from someone’s wand, casting a hex on you. But you remind yourself that you must be miles and miles away from them and that you were safe. For now at least.

You continue to scan your surroundings, not recognizing where you were, the rain blurring your view outside. Regardless, you continue to drive, straight down the road, until you reached some place that looked like it had life. 

But your car had other plans. As you slammed your foot on the gas, there was a screeching sounds, and then a rumbling boom, before smoke started to appear from the front of the car. “Oh, come on! Not now!” you yell out in frustration, pushing your foot on the gas harder, hoping that the action would keep the car going. But much to your dismay, the car came to a simmering halt as you threw your head back with a groan. With the little life it had left, you pulled the car to the side of the road and put it in park, even though that would change a thing. The car was dead.

You ran your fingers through your hair, trying to think of something. You were stranded in the middle of nowhere, with just your wand, a small bag of your belongings, and dead car with half a tank of petrol. “Fuck,” you curse slamming your hands down on the wheel. 

Through the rain, you try to scan your surroundings again. The nearest town was still some ways away and you had no way of contacting anyone. Your best bet was to wait out here in the car until morning when the rain would hopefully stop and you could walk to the nearest town and get some help. “Bloody brilliant,” you huff, zipping up your jumper, folding your arms. 

As you lean in the driver’s seat, you try not to focus on the events that had precipitated previously; the thought was far too terrifying for you. Instead, you focused on the raindrops that streamed down your car window, as you pit one raindrop against another, making them race down the glass. 

But as you watch the raindrops fall, through the rain, in the distance, you can almost make out a small building. A house. Through the brush and the trees was a small home, the windows illuminated meaning there was a sign of life. “Thank Merlin,” you whisper to yourself as you unbuckle your seatbelt. 

You flip up your hood, trying to protect yourself from the rain, but to no avail. When you step outside of the car door, you are saturated in an instant, the cold and unforgiving rain soaking your jeans and jumper, dampening your hair through your hood. “Shit,” you huff as you start to take up a light jog, hoping and praying that the company in the small house was welcoming.

---

“I need another bucket!” Ron calls out as he stands under another leak in the Burrow, holding a small mug up to catch the dripping water. Ginny runs to the kitchen and grabs another bucket under the sink before handing it off to Ron. He places it on the floor before scurrying off the previous leaks that seem to appear throughout the Burrow. “Gin, can you take care of the leak on the second floor?” Ron calls out to which Ginny replies an On it! before scurrying up the stairs.

Molly Weasley is scrambling throughout the house before plucking her band from her dressing robe, “Reparo!” she casts as the roof seems to mend itself. She casts it a few more times around the house with a frustrated sigh each time. “That should hold us over for a while now. But keep the buckets there in case the leak starts again,” she tells Ron with a kiss on the forehead. 

“The attic seems to be fine!” George calls from the top of the stairs. “No water damage and no leaks inside. Can’t speak for the rest of the place,” he shrugs as he descends the stairs, Fred following not too far behind. 

Molly sighs, “Well, that’s the best we can ask for right now. One of you go help your father in the shed. He says there’s a tarp in there that we can lay out in case the storm gets worse.” With a curt nod, Percy starts outside to help Arthur out in the shed. The rest of the Weasleys flop on the couch with a huff. 

Storms like this always brought more bad than good. It did wonders for Molly’s garden, but as for the infrastructure of their house not so much. The Burrow was old and needed some renovations, but money was tight. Instead, simple fixes here and there did the trick during stormy weather. 

Ginny helps her mother light more candles around the house before heading over to the fireplace to get a fire going to warm the house. Ron shivers a little before running up to his room to grab a jumper to keep him warm. Fred looks over at George, mischief in his eyes and a smirk on his lips. George looks at his brother before picking up on his wave length. A stormy day always made for the most interesting quidditch matches. 

The twins rise from the couch, grabbing their coats before Molly interrupts, “And where do you two think you’re off to?”

Fred, without looking at his mother, speaks, “The weather is perfect for a quidditch match. Great practice. Reckon you’ll join, Gin?” Fred asks the youngest Weasley as she looks at him with excited eyes.

“None of you lot with be playing quidditch in this weather!” Molly exclaims with a firm tone and folded arms. Ginny looks at her mother with pleading eyes to which she brushes off. “The weather is wicked outside!”

George laughs, “Yeah, wicked for playing quidditch.” Fred joins in on the laughter, offering his twin a high five with his accepts.

“If you two disobey me, you’ll be in a wicked amount of trouble. Now put your coats down and help me start the fire. Fred, go fetch the old newspaper. George, get the wood from upstairs. We need to warm this place up before we all freeze to death,” she huffs as George and Fred reluctantly take off their coats with a groan. Yet they still obey their mother. 

George looks over to his twin, “You shouldn’t have told her we were playing quidditch. You should have made up something.”

Fred scoffs, “And said what? We’re replanting the peonies?” George rolls his eyes. “That’s what I thought. Now go get the fire wood like you’re told,” he teases his twin, earning him a slap upside the head. “Wanker.”

George disappears upstairs as Fred goes into the kitchen and grabs the old newspapers from the dining room table. Page by page he rips them into small pieces, crumpling them up, creating a fire starter. 

Suddenly, a great rumble of thunder comes from outside, startling the house Weasley family. They all quickly laugh it off with a shake of their heads. The storms were brutal in the summer months. But there it was again, another sound. But not quite thunder.

“Was that thunder?” Ron asks, crouched down by the fire place, helping George throw in the logs. 

Fred shakes his head. “No,” he listens closely again before it sounds again. Four bangs on the front door. Fred looks to his brothers and sister and speaks, “I thought Harry and Hermione were coming next week?”

“They are,” Ron answers with a puzzled look on his face.

Again, four more bangs on the front door, but now followed by a, “Is anyone home?”

Everyone’s eyes are wide with confusion. They expected no visitors, especially during a storm. But this only peaked their interest as to who was at the Burrow’s door at this time of night during a summer storm. Without much hesitation, Fred walks to the front door and swings it open.

In front, there you were. Body and clothes completely soaked with rain, shivering from the cold, lips purple and teeth chattering as you clung onto your thing jumper. Your hair was matted down with rain as droplets cascaded down your face as you looked at the tall, ginger haired boy in front of you. If you weren’t freezing your ass off, you would have stared at the handsome boy longer. But too consumed with the cold, you speak, “I need h-help.” Your words are shaky from your clattering teeth.

Fred looks at you, completely enthralled with the being in front of him. How could someone look so divine when drenched in rain water? Your lips were pressed together and shivered in your lavender jumper that matched the color of your lips. Small droplets of water fell from your hair and onto your feet as you sniffled. The sight was oddly charming. He snapped out of his thoughts and called out, “Mum!! We’ve got company!!” With a small smile, he opened the door further and welcomed you into the house as you sighed. “Come on then.”

You let out a breathy “thank you” as you entered the house, which wasn’t much warmer than outside, but it was better than being in the freezing rain. You stand in the middle of the house, a shivering, wet mess as you feel all eyes on you. Fred instructs Ron to get the fire started as he looks over to you, “How long have you been in the rain?”

“Uh, not long. I was in my car and then it broke down and I saw your house, so I ran over. Maybe ten minutes,” you shrug as the house slowly descends into madness, trying to help you out.

“Ten minutes too long,” Fred huffs with a smile before looking over at his mother. “She’s been walking in the rain. She needs to get warm,” Fred tells Molly whose face is painted with worry even though she didn’t know who you were. 

Molly rushes over to you and places her hands on your shoulders. “Oh, my dear! You’re frigid! Fred, start a kettle of tea! George, grab the quits from your room! Ron, is that fire ready?” she starts tossing orders out as her children comply, darting in all different directions. Molly guides you towards the living room where the fire was, placing you directly in front. “You poor thing. Where are you coming from?” she asks, rubbing your arms. “Here, give me that saturated jumper. Ginny, go fetch one of your jumpers to give...what’s your name, dear?”

You smile at the sweet woman and speak, “(Y/N).”

Molly smiles, “(Y/N). Go fetch (Y/N) a jumper.” Ginny darts off to her room as you sit in front of the fire, the heat already radiating making you feel much better. “My name is Molly, dear. That’s Ginny who ran off, this is Ron, and in the kitchen are Fred and George. My husband, Arthur, and other son, Percy, are in the shed, but they should be in in any minute.”

You furrow your brows as you look at Molly and then around at your surroundings at the people around you. Red hair. Small house. Molly. Arthur. Many siblings. They must be the-

“(Y/N)?” a voice calls from the other room in the door frame.

You look over and there Percy stands, a familiar face with matted curly red hair, wet from the rain. “Percy! Hi!” you smile as Percy walks over to you with a small smile before giving you a light hug. 

He laughs, “What are you doing here? I thought you were supposed to be with Alyssa for the weekend?” 

From behind you a voice speaks, “Wait, I’m confused. How do you two know each other?” Ron looks between you and Percy confused as to how you recognized each other.

Percy speaks for you, “(Y/N)’s family works in the ministry. (Y/N) works as one of the assistants. Her father has high rankings with the ministry.” You smile up at Percy. It was true. Your family was heavily involved with the ministry, specifically with the regulation and control of magical creatures. That’s why you never really ended up going to school. You were guaranteed a job when you were born. Sometimes being at the ministry 24/7 was boring, but when you met Percy, it was a change of pace. Someone close in age to you and a new face to talk to. The two of you became fast friends. “We’ve been co-workers for sometime now.”

You look up at Percy and sigh, “I was with Alyssa. But, um,” you gulp, heart racing at the memory. “Something happened.” Percy gives you an inquisitive look as you look around you, now all of the Weasley’s eyes interested in what you had to say. So much for some privacy. “Alyssa’s father...he...got himself mixed with some of the wrong people...” you trail off as Percy sighs. “Lucius Malfoy decided to pay us a visit and...he killed him. Alyssa and I and her mother and sisters made it out in time, but we got separated. She just yelled at me to drive and...” you start becoming overwhelmed with the images of what had happened and tears start trailing down your face as a small sob escapes your lips as you quickly cover it.

Percy places a hand on your shoulder and rubs your back with a sad smile. “I’m so sorry,” he whispers as you pull yourself together with a deep breath. “You’re safe here. I promise that. Mum will take good care of you. We all will,” Percy gives you a small smile and for some reason, that makes you feel relaxed. Looking around at the people in the room, you feel comforted and safe. Something you needed after today. 

Coming back was Ginny with a fresh jumper. She gave you a good look and said, “You know what? Just come up to my room actually. You can wear some of my clothes and get out of those wet ones, yeah?” she offers you a kind smile and her hand as you gladly accept, following her up to her room.

As you disappear up the stairs, Fred watches you with a small smile on his lips. Molly and Arthur occupy themselves with talk about where you would sleep for the night and how they would reconfigure sleeping arrangements. George and Ron start fighting about how the fire isn’t big enough. But Fred just can’t stop watching you go up and up and up the stairs.

He clears his throat and then speaks, “Perc...hey.” Percy walks over to his brother. “This (Y/N) girl...she didn’t go to Hogwarts...did she?” he asks.

Percy shakes his head, “No. She’s been studying under her father since she was born practically. She’s a great person. Really funny, really smart, and damn good at her job,” he explains to Fred, who clings onto every last word. Fred didn’t know what it was, but there was something about you that just drew him in. And he wanted to know every thing there was to know about you. Percy quickly recognizes the look in his brother’s eyes and says, “Don’t get any ideas, Fred. Come on, she’s my friend.”

Fred shrugs, “So. Does she have a partner?” Percy sighs. “Great. So she’s available,” he wiggles his eyebrows as Percy slaps his arm. “I’m not gonna make a move on her, Percy! Godric...not yet at least.” But before Percy can slap him again, Fred is running away in the other room to join his twin and younger brother on the floor.

Practically jumping on George, Fred smothers his brother as George groans, “Would you get off of me, git?” Fred laughs before taking a seat next to him. “What’s got you so excited?” George looks at his twin before instantly realizing the change in his mood. “Good Godric, really? You fancy the girl? Merlin, Fred, she just got here and she’s clearly in distress over what she saw today!” George whisper yells at Fred who is too happy to care about what his brother scolds him over. 

He simply speaks, “I don’t plan on jumping on the girl tonight, George. I just am looking to get to know her better.”

“Before you jump on her,” Ron speaks, making George laugh as Fred slaps his younger brother upside the head.

“Hey! Who said I was doing to do any of that!” he defends himself. “I think she’s beautiful. I don’t know. There’s something about her that I...just can’t put my finger on. I don’t know. I just wanna get to know her better. Alright? Can you live with that?” Fred speaks to his brothers as they look at each other knowingly. 

But before Fred can defend himself further, you are back in the room, changed into fresh clothes from Ginny. You pull the jumper down more, covering your midriff as you sit back down on the floor in front of the fire with Ginny, you and her making light conversation. And the while, Fred steals little glances here and there. 

“So, you didn’t go to Hogwarts, but you learned under your father?” Ginny asks as you nod happily.

There was a part of you that felt like you really missed out on an experience. Not attending Hogwarts was a choice that your parents made without your input and you wished every day that you had spoken up and told them that you wanted to go. But instead, they argued that learning directly under your father would be a better education and whatever you didn’t learn, you could easily pick up with some help from your father, your mother, or any of their friends in the ministry. Other than that, you had a relatively happy childhood, working with magical creatures daily, running around the different departments with other children you could find. Life was good, until trouble started to appear in spurts.

You reply, “Yeah. When he steps down from his position, I’ll be there to take it over. It’s what I’ve been working towards my whole life.” When you spoke the sentence, it stung. It wasn’t like you had a choice. Your future was set out for you since the day you were born. 

Ginny smiles, “That’s really cool though. You don’t need to work about OWLs or NEWTs or any exams. Sounds pretty sweet.” You give her a weak laugh. Pretty sweet. 

Molly comes back in the room, a small cup of tea in her hands. “Black tea, cream, no sugar,” she coos. “Percy told me how you take it,” she winks as you smile and thank her graciously. “I’m glad to see that you’re in warm clothes now. For tonight, and I hope you don’t mind, you’ll spend the night in Fred and George’s room. George will spend the night in Ron’s room and Fred will sleep on the couch down here, so you’ll have some privacy,” Molly speaks with a smile.

You look around the room, “Oh! I can take the couch! Really! I don’t want to kick anyone out of their room!” you tell the group as they all give you small smiles.

“Nonsense!” Molly smiles. “A guest deserves to sleep on a proper bed. Besides this is just for tonight. Tomorrow morning, Arthur and Percy will get the extra mattress from the attic and bring it down into Ginny’s room.” You shake your head and profusely thank the twins for giving up their room and the both of them just smile while Fred drops his left eye into a wink, making your heart flutter in your chest. “You can stay here as long as you need, dear. We can find someone to come in and fix your car.”

But before you can protest, Fred speaks up, “Actually, no need to call someone, Mum. George and I fixed the flying Ford Anglia, I’m sure we can fix some muggle car.”

“What the bloody hell are you on about, we ne-”

Fred nudges George in the stomach, making him double over with an oof, as Fred smiles and continues, “We’ll have it repaired in no time.”

You look over at Fred with curious eyes and a small smile. There was something about him that just was so magnetic. His brown eyes, tufts of messy red hair, loose t-shirt that clung onto his arm muscles that flexed so gently underneath the green fabric. Just his smile was enough to have you captivated for eons. “Thanks,” you simply state with a smile and he nods. “Um,” you break away from his gaze. “I’ll, uh, get ready for bed then, I guess. It’s quite late.”

You rise from the floor and scurry up the stares, feeling eyes on you, and for some reason, you hoped that Fred was one of them.

-------

It was two in the morning and the whole house was dead asleep. Except for you. Each time you closed your eyes, you felt the feelings and panic from hours before. Your heart thumped in your chest as you toss and turned in your sleep, an unsettled feeling wrestling in your stomach. 

Giving up, you sit straight up and huff, hearing the clock tick insistently on the wall, mocking you. You roll your eyes and swing your legs over the unfamiliar bed and rub your face. Standing up from the bed, you start to slug over to the door and down the stairs, trying to see if maybe a change of scenery would do you some good. 

When you walk down the stairs, you are careful to be quiet, not to wake up Fred. But lucky for you, he was wide awake, sitting on the floor in front of the fire place that was mere glowing embers. Fred turns and looks at you, a small smile dancing on his lips when he sees you. “Didn’t think you would be up,” you smile at him before taking a seat next to him on the floor, him scooting over so you could enjoy the residual warmth from the fire. 

Fred shrugs, “Couch isn’t super comfortable. The springs are digging into my back.”

You give him a sorry smile. “I’m sorry that I took your room for the night. I told you that I don’t mind sleeping on the couch. Not too late to take me up on my offer...” you give him a joking nudge, earning a light chuckle from one half of the Weasley twins.

“Very kind of you, but you take the room. I don’t mind sharing. Especially if it’s with a pretty girl,” he flirts as you feet heat rise to your cheeks, turning away from him so he couldn’t see your small smile. But Fred knows and that’s only earned him a proud feeling in his chest. “So,” he starts. “You’re friends with my dork brother, eh?” 

You lightly laugh, “He’s not a dork. Percy has been a really great friend. I really don’t know what I would do without him.” Fred gives you a small smile. “Truly. He’s really been my best mate.”

Fred wiggles his brows, teasing you. “Best mates, eh?” He bumps his shoulder into you as you giggle and roll your eyes. 

“Percy and I are just friends, come on,” you give him a playful shove. Fred smiles and shakes his head as you feel suddenly confident, a flirtatious comment falling off of your lips. “If we were, do you think I’d be down here talking to his cute brother?”

The comment makes Fred look at you, at first with wide eyes which eventually fades into a little smirk with ruby red cheeks. He chuckles, “Touché.” 

You and Fred sit next to the fire and continue to make conversation, talking about you, your life back home, and Fred and the joke shoppe. The more you talk to him the more you realize how easily conversation flowed between the two of you. Talking with Fred was like breathing; you didn’t need to think about it, it just happened so effortlessly. He made you laugh until you clutched your sides, doubled over in pain, which made his heart swell. Your laugh sounding like a beautiful melody of a familiar tune, something he could never grow tired of hearing.

“The shoppe really is a dream come true,” Fred smiles to himself as he watches the fire dwindle down. “It’s what George and I have always wanted our whole lives.” Watching Fred talk about the joke shoppe and seeing all the joy and passion behind his eyes was like watching fireworks. Captivating. The way he spoke about running his own business with his best mate and brother made a smile creep its way onto your face. “I can only imagine it’s the same way you feel about taking over your father’s position,” Fred looks to you with a hopeful smile as you gulp thickly.

You shrug, “Yeah. You can say that.” You wished you sounded more enthusiastic, but truth of the matter was you had no passion behind what you did. Sure, growing up you dreamed of taking over your father’s position and becoming head of the department. But as you grew up, you took up other interests and hobbies that outgrew your love of magical creatures. 

Fred instantly noticed your change in tone and twisted his eyebrows together. “That’s not a very convincing answer,” he laughs as you lightly chuckle. “You don’t want to take over his position?”

With a sigh, you rub your hands over your face. “I do, but...I don’t?” you look at him, wrapping your arms around your knees, bringing them close to your chest. You turn towards Fred and start, “I mean, my whole future was planned out for me when I was born. First born takes over the position. I’m first born so everything has been etched in stone for me. I love my family and what they do and I’ve always been passionate about it...but somethings missing, you know? As I grew up, I took different interests and now...I don’t know if I want to be in that position. I don’t want to be a part of the ministry anymore.” The confession was a lot to dump onto Fred, but for some reason you felt like he would understand. That he would listen to you. “I’m sorry that was a lot to unload.”

“Don’t apologize,” Fred smiles at you, placing a hand on your shoulder, rubbing it gently, making your heart race at the simple touch. Fred turns to face you, knees brushing against each other as you nibble on the inside of your cheek. “So, if you don’t mind me asking, what do you want to do with your life?”

A small smile appears on your face. “I want to own a book shoppe. I know it sounds dorky, but I want to own my own book store with every book in the world. Fantasy, mythology, history, science, maths, everything under the sun. I want people to come in and read and sit and learn new things,” you light up at the thought of having a place to call your own. “I regret every day not getting the ‘real school’ experience, but in a weird way, I think owning a book store would make up for it?” you lightly laugh as Fred stares at you with a dreamy smile on his face.

The way you spoke about books and people and learning was unlike anything he had ever seen. You completely lit up like a Christmas tree and Fred was smitten. “You want to know my opinion?” Fred asks as you nod. “I think...you should leave the ministry and open up your own bookstore,” he tells you as you lightly laugh. “I’m serious. You don’t have half the passion for the ministry like you do for the bookstore. This is your dream. You should follow it.”

“Okay, but opening a bookstore requires money and investors and actually getting books. I don’t have nearly enough,” you sigh as a mischievous smile appears on Fred’s face. “Uh oh. I don’t like that smile.”

Fred laughs, “It’s a good smile, don’t worry. What if...George and I were your first investors. I mean, the joke shoppe is booming and we have the money to invest in a small business.”

You start shaking your head. He was being overly generous for someone you just met today. “Oh, Fred, I couldn’t ask you to do that. That’s you and George’s money and-”

“And I want to use it where I see fit. And I think your business proposal is very promising,” Fred tells you with a small smirk as you sigh, heart fluttering at the way his face is illuminated by the embers of the fire place. “Sleep on it. I don’t need an answer right now. But you should think about it, (Y/N).”

You smile softly, playing with the cuffs of Ginny’s maroon jumper, heart thumping your chest. Slowly, you look up at Fred and his eyes are glued on yours, a soft smile on his pink lips. The two of you don’t say a word, just sat there, looking at one another, taking each other in as the fire crackles, the faint smell of burnt wood filling your senses. In this moment, Fred looked like someone you had known your whole life. Like you were supposed to be here, looking at him right now. You can feel his knee brush against you again, making the hairs on your arms stand up, goosebumps erupting along your skin as you inhale sharply. 

Clearing your throat, you start to stand up. “I should probably get back to bed,” you interrupt the moment as Fred follows suit.

“Yeah, uh, you’re right. I gotta get up early anyway to start fixing your car,” Fred scratches the back of his neck as you make your way back to the stairs. “Goodnight, (Y/N). Sweet dreams.”

You stop on the third step and smile shyly at Fred. “Goodnight, Fred. Sweet dreams,” you repeat before walking up the stairs, a bright grin etched on your face.

----------

Two days have past since you arrived at the Weasleys. Morning comes quickly, day light streaming in through the window as you wake with a large stretch. You rub your eyes and look at the clock on the wall, the hands pointing to 10:13am. You had slept in later than expected, but maybe that’s what you needed. Slowly, you peel yourself from the bed and make your way downstairs, the hustle and bustle of the Weasley house in full swing. Ginny, Percy, and Ron are at the table, eating toast and eggs. “Look who decided to join the land of the living,” Percy teases as you smile with a groggy hey. “You hungry? Mum made enough eggs and toast to feed every fifth year at Hogwarts,” Percy laughs as you take a seat next to him, accepting a full plate of eggs, buttered toast, and a cup of tea the way you like it.

“Thank you, Molly,” you smile at the woman who places dirty dishes and pans in the sink as the magically begin to wash themselves.

She sends you a sweet smile and a wink, “Don’t mention it, dearest. Eat up. If you’re still hungry, there’s plenty more in the fridge.” 

As you start to eat, Ginny and Ron start to talk about the plans for the day, talking of maybe playing a quidditch match in the yard, Ginny entertains the idea of taking a trip to Diagon Alley, Ron going back and forth if he should visit Hermione or not. Percy just states he’ll be doing work from his room as you roll your eyes, nudging him lightly at how studious he was. You scan the table and the living room to see no Fred or George. They couldn’t be sleeping still, Fred wasn’t on the couch and Ron’s room was empty when you passed it. “Where are the twins?” you ask Percy as you bite into your toast.

“Outside fixing your car. Fred’s been working on it since Mum woke up. And she gets up early,” Percy emphasizes as you laugh. “George should be out there too or he’s in the shed looking for spare parts,” Percy sips his black coffee.

You nod and finish munching on your toast and eggs before rising from the table, placing your dish in the sink, and making your way outside to see what was going on. 

As you step outside, the warm sun engulfs you as you realize just how hot it was. Not the weather for Ginny’s heavy jumper that you slept in. But before you can complain about the heat, your eyes stumble on a sight that made you feel weak in the knees. 

You gulp thickly as you mouth run dry as the desert. Fred is leaning over the hood of your car, arms flexed as he tightens knobs on the engine, wiping the sweat from his forehead. Surrendering to the August heat, Fred pulls his shirt over his head to reveal his toned back muscles that glisten with summer sweat. He runs his grease covered hands through his hair, sweeping it back, his biceps flexing before he returns to his position covering over the car, grunting as he uses his strength to tighten and fix the bolts. His pants hang low on his waist as the tops of his boxers peak out from the material, making you inhale deeply. It felt so wrong to look at him, but you couldn’t pull your eyes away from the toned man in front of you. 

Finally snapping yourself out of your trance, you clear your throat, making your presence known. Fred turns towards you and a smile immediately forms on his lips. “Working hard or hardly working,” you tease him as you walk towards the car, leaning against him as Fred chuckles.

“Well, I’ve been up since six in the morning trying to fix this thing with no avail. So maybe the latter is more fitting,” he jokes as you smile. “How did you sleep last night?”

“Just fine,” you shrug before saying, “Um, thanks for staying up and talking with me for a bit the other night. It was nice.”

Fred smiles and folds his arms across his chest, your eyes darting down quickly to watch how his strong arms flexed over his toned chest, making you stomach do a flip. “Yeah, of course. You make great company,” he winks at you as you can’t help but giggle at his flirtatious remark. “Anyway, have you thought about my proposal?” he ask, raising his eyebrows and leaning over the hood of the car, closer to you as your heart stops at how close he was to you in this moment, mind drawing blank as your eyes scan over his naked top half. Fred notices your stare and he smirks, “Cat got your tongue, darling?” he coos.

But before you can speak, a voice interrupts, “Fred, would you quite harassing the guest?” You turn around to see George making his way back with a tool box and a wrench that he tosses to Fred who catches it with ease. “Morning, (Y/N),” George beams as you smile at him. “If my brother will stop flirting with you, hopefully we’ll get the car fixed by tonight.”

You chuckle as Fred rolls his eyes, continuing to work on the engine as you pry yourself from the car. “I appreciate it a lot. Taking the time out of your day to fix the car,” you tell the twins as they both smile and say it was no problem. “I’ll, uh, I’ll catch up with you two later,” you walk backwards back to the house before leaving the twins alone to fix the car as a smile lingers on your lips.

Fred watches you walk away, disappearing back into the house, his mind fixating on the way you looked in that jumper and sleep shorts, going to places where he shouldn’t really be thinking about. George punches Fred’s arm and snaps him out of his daydream. “Are you kidding, mate?” George laughs. “Come on.”

Fred groans, “I can’t stop thinking about her, George.” George rolls his eyes and shoves Fred out of the way, taking a look at the engine of the car. “We talked the other night for hours. She’s smart, and she’s funny, and bloody hell, she’s fucking gorgeous,” Fred huffs, running his fingers through his hair at the thought of you. He had just met you two days ago and you were already the first and last thing on Fred’s mind when he woke up and went to bed. “And I know there’s something there, mate. It’s just...awkward since we’re around everyone all the time,” Fred explains. “But I like her, George.”

George looks at his brother, giving him a look before realizing the sincerity behind his eyes and hopeful smile on his lips. George sighs and speaks, “Alright then. I’d say go for it, mate. If you think that there’s potential, what’s holding you back?” 

“Her life,” he breathes out as he leans against the car. “She works for the ministry. That’s where her life is, but she hates it. She told me that she wants to break away and move and open her own bookstore. (Y/N) wants a different life, but her obligations are holding her back,” Fred explains to George to tightens a bolt on the engine before looking up at his brother with a face that reads And? “I want to help her,” Fred speaks. “And not because I have a crush on her. Because she deserves it. After everything she’s been through, I want to help her live her dream,” he tells George who folds his arms over his chest. “Our dream came true and if we didn’t have help from Harry, who knows if and when our business would have taken off. The same can be said for (Y/N) and her dream.”

George goes back and forth as Fred anticipates a positive answer from his twin. With a sigh, George says, “Alright. Let’s do it. But under one condition!” Fred furrows his brows. “Don’t be doing this just because you fancy her. You really want to help her, right?” he clarifies.

Fred smiles gently, thinking about you and how happy you would be to receive the news that your dream is becoming a reality. “More than anything. She deserves it,” Fred speaks quietly as George smiles at his brother.

------

Night had rolled around just as quickly as the morning came and you were sat on the floor of Ginny’s room on the mattress as everyone got ready for bed. In your hands, a letter from Alyssa, that an owl had brought in just minutes ago. She was safe, thank Merlin, back in London, waiting for your arrival. But the thought of leaving the Weasleys now, when you were just getting to know everyone, made your chest feel tight with sadness. Getting to know your mate’s family was enjoyable, especially with this newfound connection with Fred. Leaving now would just screw things up. 

But you had duties to attend. The ministry, your family, Alyssa. You needed to get things back on track before staying here caused them to derail yet again. 

You hear footsteps coming from down the hall as you fold the parchment and tuck it in your waistband of your shorts as you rise from the mattress. Instead of Ginny appearing in the door way like you expected, it was a freshly showered Fred in his pajama bottoms and an old white t-shirt that was just thin enough so you could see the outlines of his toned torso. His lifts his hands up so he can hang on the door frame, his eyes tracing you up and down quickly. You smile gently, “You fix my car, Weasley?”

He chuckles, “Come take a look for yourself.”

The two of you start down the stairs, leaving the rest of the Weasley family behind as you made your way outside. The summer night is mild, the sounds of crickets fill the air, and the breeze smells of grass and dew. Fred runs over to your car that’s a few feet away from the back of the house and jumps into the driver’s seat, putting the key in the ignition, and the engine roars. You smile and clap your hands, a job well done. Fred hops back out as you sit yourself on the hood of the car, facing him. “Nicely done,” you compliment him as he pretends to tip his hat to you. “So, how long did it take you two to realize that there was a spell for fixing the car engine?” you reveal as Fred’s eyes widen.

“You knew this whole time and yet you made us work in the bloody heat?!” he exclaims with a small smile on your face as you laugh out loud, throwing your head back and clutch your sides. “You’re a monster!” he teases, slightly shoving your arm.

You laugh, “Come on, you had to admit it was funny. Ron starting placing bets on who would figure it out first. Molly even joined in at one point.” Fred scoffs and rolls his eyes. “But still...a job well done. Thank you. I’ll have to think of a way to repay you.”

Fred gives you a look and speaks, “I have a few things in mind...” Your heart starts beating quicker as your mouth becomes dry as Fred moves to stand in between your legs, hands on either side of you on the car. “First of them being,” he starts, “Move to London and start your own business.”

Part of you is disappointed with the request, wanting something else from the fire haired boy, but you sigh, “Fred, you know I ca-”

“George and I spoke this morning. We both want to help you get you on your feet, so we’re investing in your bookstore,” he gushes as you look at him with wide eyes. “There is an available building across the street from the joke shoppe. With your consent, we’ll put the down payment on it tomorrow and the shoppe is all yours. When business is booming, you can pay us back. But until then, the store is all yours. Ready to go when you are,” Fred tells you.

You are completely overwhelmed with the news and can’t wrap your mind around why they were doing this. Why you? You were speechless. “Fred, I-” you stutter. “I don’t know what to say...thank you...this is...I don’t know how to describe it, but I don’t kn-”

“You don’t have to thank me or George. We wanted to do this. Seeing you talk about how passionate you were made me want to help you out. It reminded me of when George and I were dreaming of starting a business. We wanted to help someone who we saw potential in. Or I saw potential in,” Fred tells you, scratching his neck, nervously looking down as your heart swelled. “And since you’re across the street from the shoppe, that means we can see each other more often,” he says. “If you want that is. It’s also a good way for Percy to come see you too if you prefer that over seeing me or George, you know. I don’t want to assume anything,” he rambles as you giggle.

Fred looks into your eyes as you gently smile at him. The moon illuminated his face in the darkness, softening his sharp features as he sighed, looking at you. In this light, you were close to perfection. Fred wanted to melt on the floor when you looked at him with those eyes. Eyes that held so much beauty and adoration. 

It wasn’t until his forehead gently touched yours that you realized you were moving in closer. Fred gently brushed his nose against yours, making you lightly laugh before he slowly connected your lips into a gentle kiss. When his lips touched yours, it set your body on fire. Slowly, you wrapped your arms around his neck as he placed his hands on your waist, pulling you closer to him. His lips were soft and sweet against yours, moving gently, pushing his tongue past your parted lips, kissing you deeply. The kiss made you feel lightheaded and foggy, losing your senses, but at the same time, all of your senses felt heightened in the moment. Fred was addictive, you wanted more and more and more and that’s what made him dangerous. But you were too caught up in the feeling of his hands on your skin, lips pressing against him, soft moans falling from your lips into his mouth. 

As Fred wrapped his arms around your waist, his hands brush up against something tucked into your waistband of your shorts. His laces his brows together before plucking it from your waistband, breaking your kiss as you whine when he does so. “What’s this?” he asks, holding up the parchment, confused.

You sigh and take it from him, playing with the letter in your hands. “It’s a letter, from Alyssa...she told me she’s safe with her mum and sisters. She’s in London,” you tell him as he smiles, rubbing your leg, knowing that her safety was important to you. “She’s...waiting for me...to come back to the ministry so we can get back to work,” you tell him.

Fred just laughs, “Well, you’re gonna have to break the news to her. I’ll get Errol and you can send her a letter tonight, telling her not to wait up.” But before Fred can run inside and get you parchment and a quill, you grab his hand and stop him, giving him a sad look. His happy eyes turn into confusion which turn into realization. “You are going to quit the ministry, right?” he asks as you sadly look away from him and back down at the parchment in your hands, nervously fumbling with it. “(Y/N), you hate it there. You have to quit.”

“I have duties, Fred. To my family. To the ministry. To myself. I can’t just throw away everything I’ve been working towards for years just for a silly dream!” you exclaim to him as he frustratedly runs his hands through his hair.

He scoffs, “A silly dream that I believe in. That George believes in. That you, at one point, believed in! I can help you! I’ll...I’ll...I’ll go down to the ministry with you tomorrow and help you face your father and Alyssa and all of them. We can move you out and into a flat and you can start living the life you wanted. Don’t you want that?” he throws his hands in the air defeated.

The whole situation had you torn up. Fred was offering you the chance of a lifetime. Your dream. Everything you desired Fred wanted to give to you with no strings attached. He just wanted to see you happy, doing the thing you loved. But on the other hand, you had an obligation to your family and the ministry. Leaving them would get you into some deep shit that would be too hard to recover from or climb out of. The last thing you wanted to do was pull Fred down with you. 

You retort, “Just because I want it doesn’t mean it’s right for me, Fred!” Fred stands there in silence, shaking his head. “People are depending on me to assume this position after my father steps down. If I let them down, the whole ministry will have a vendetta against me. Do you realize what that means for me? It means I’ll lose everything. My dreams. The shoppe. My family....you...” you trail off at that last bit, but Fred catches it and looks at you with sad eyes. “Fred, I like you. I really do, but I can’t put you in a position that will make life a living hell for you.”

Fred shakes his head, “I am ready to take on whatever it is if it means you are happy. If it means that there’s a chance for us.”

His words make your heart ache with how much he already cared and it had only been three days since you met. But something deep down told you that this was something to fight for. Something to fight like hell for. But you didn’t know if you were prepared for that fight. “Freddie...I can’t...” you whisper to him, holding his face in your hands, trying to reach his sensibilities. 

Fred gulps and stays quiet for a moment, but it feels like years. “Okay,” he simply states. “If you don’t want to, that’s okay.” The tone of his voice makes your heart break. “I, um, I should probably get back inside. We both should. It gets cold out here quite quickly.”

Peeling himself away from you, he starts back to the Burrow as you hop down from the hood of the car. “Fred,” you call out as he turns around. “I’m sorry.”

He looks back at you and shakes his head. “Me too.”

Fred continues to walk back into the house as you stand outside, in front of your car, letter in your hand, heart breaking in your chest. The decision you made was right, but why did it feel so wrong?

----------

“Percy, I can carry my own backpack to my car,” you laugh as you follow him down the stairs, Percy a few steps ahead of you.

Without looking back he speaks, “I insist. Now, go put something in your stomach. The drive back to London is long, so fill up.” You smile and shake your head as you walk into the kitchen as the rest of the Weasleys are sat around the table. You take a seat next to Ginny you passes you a plate full of pancakes as you graciously accept it. 

Everyone greets you with a small smile or a good morning, but Fred just looks up at you with sad eyes before going back to pushing food around his plate. But that didn’t stop you from glancing at him every now and again, wishing you could make him happier. The fact of the matter was that neither of you were happy with the decision that had to be made. Fred had offered you the world on a silver platter and yet you refused in fear of the consequences. You had only known him for two days and yet he was so ready to help you, to make you happy. How could he be so sure of something when you were so unsure of everything. 

But you push the thought aside and start to eat your breakfast. Ron starts conversation, “So, what’s the first thing you’re doing when you get back, (Y/N)?” he asks.

You think for a moment with a sigh. “There’ll probably a stack of work for me to sort through. I’ll tend to that first. And after that’s done...I don’t know. Probably try to get back in the routine of things, help my father out, tend to some department issues,” you speak plainly. The mundane nature of life back at home made your stomach twist as you thought of it in comparison to what life could be back in London in Diagon Alley with a bookstore to call your own...Fred right across the way...

Your thoughts are interrupted with a short chuckle from George. “Doesn’t sound like too much fun,” he tells you as you sigh with a small smile, figuring that Fred told him that you were taking him up on their offer of investment. 

“Is work supposed to be fun?” you ask, taking a bite off your fork.

Fred sarcastically laughs. “Yes, actually. George and I love what we do for a living. Work isn’t supposed to be a task, it should be something you love. Something you have a passion for. Something that makes you want to get out of bed and work towards. Otherwise, what’s your life then? Something so mundane and boring and when you’re dead you end up regretting what you did with it?” Fred blurts as George elbows him under the table. Fred stops, realizing that he may have gone too far. 

His words start to circle and dance around in your head, each one of them hitting you in the chest like a bullet. He was right. Why waste all of your time and effort into something you couldn’t care about? But it was too late. You were set out for the ministry and your family expected your arrival today. 

You finish eating breakfast and circle back to Ginny’s room, doing a once over to make sure you weren’t leaving anything behind. As you walked down the stairs of the Burrow, you felt sad to leave. Even the three days you spent here were the best days of the summer. Each day brought something new and exciting. Waking up each morning to see happy faces, Fred’s face...that was something you would cherish. 

One by one, you say your goodbyes and profusely thank the Weasleys for letting you stay for so long. Molly insists it was nothing and you can come visit whenever you liked. When you get to Fred, you don’t know whether to hug him or just move on. But he decides for you. “Can I walk you to your car actually?” he asks you as you nod gently. 

You give Percy a tight hug as you speak, “I’ll see you at work, Perc.”

But Percy turns to speak in your ear, “Will I?” You pull away from him sharply, giving him a look. Percy just smiles and speaks, “You’re a smart girl, (Y/N). A talented one at that. You are too big for the ministry.” You give him a gentle smile as he whispers, “Get the fuck out of there. For my sake.”

But before you can say anything, Fred and you are walking out of the Burrow and to your car. The walk to your car is awkward and quiet as you play with the hem of your t-shirt, kicking rocks as you walk down the dirt path. Fred digs his hands in his pockets as he walks to your car.

When you make it to your car, you turn to the tall ginger and sigh. The two of you just look at each other for a moment before Fred reaches out and brushes a piece of hair from your face as you lean into his touch. His touch makes your heart flutter as he smiles gently at you before pressing his lips to your forehead, kissing it sweetly. “Goodbye, (Y/N).”

Fred gives your hand a squeeze before letting it go gently, walking away from you and back to the Burrow. Your heart is beating a mile a minute and walking him walk away is like someone stabbing you in the gut. This isn’t how things were supposed to end. He wasn’t supposed to let you go. But if he was gonna let you go, you weren’t going to let him go. 

“Fred!” you call out, making him halt in his tracks and turn back to you, shielding his eyes from the bright August sun. Your chest is heavy as you gather up all the confidence you have in your body. “I fucking hate the ministry. I hate my job. I don’t want to take over for my father. I don’t want to take this path that’s been made for me!” you exclaim, arms stretched. Fred just looks at you. “I want to open a bookstore. I want to help people learn. I want to wake up every morning, excited for the day. I want to wake up every morning and...see you,” you confess to him with a smile. “I want you, Fred.”

Fred just stands there for a moment before slowly walking back towards you and you inhale deeply, trying to keep your negative thoughts at bay. When he reaches you, he lets a small smile creep its way on his face. “I want you. I want to wake up every day and see your beautiful face staring back at me. I want to be there for you, to make you happy, to support you, to protect you. To make you feel safe and sound. I want you, (Y/N),” he confesses back as you smile widely.

The two of you waste no more time as his lips connect to yours, holding you in his arms. His lips are smiling into the kiss as you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down to you. He pulls away with a goofy grin on his face as you chuckle, “My parents are going to kill me. The ministry is not gonna be happy about this.”

“Fuck the ministry,” he laughs as you join in. “I’m going to be by your side the whole time, helping you through it all. I swear. Through all the ups and downs.”

You hold his face in your hands as your heart swells in your chest. “I don’t like that I’m getting you into so much trouble,” you admit.

Fred rolls his eyes, “Oh, please, sweetheart. Trouble is my middle name.”

The two of you share another quick kiss before Fred grabs your hand and the two of you walk back to the Burrow, happily linked together. Fred calls out, “Ron! Go get the mattress again! We’ve got company!” 

[flowersandbirdsflyingfree]

Here’s an ask for iron petals💖

I wonder if Dempsey would like to go skiing? it sounds really fun I got the chance to go once it’s extremely fun, also i wondering if he would enjoy exploring abandoning buildings or taking pictures or nature like be a photographer.

This sounds awesome! I love action-packed stuff and I’m sure he would too! He’d definitely give skiing it a shot! But I hope they allow snowboards for me. It’s no surprise that Dempsey would love to stay active because it’s great for his mind and also keeps his killer strength and endurance in great shape. I’d try to follow him as best I can down the hill. I know I’d be the one who’s just cruising down the snowy hills while he’s doing 360° turns and flips. He loves to show off what he’s made of, oorah! For some reason this came to mind when I started brainstorming bc I feel like he’d pull this stunt

I love making scrapbooks to each represent a chapter of my life. And because Tank and I are sharing our lives together, I wanted him to help me with my 3rd book. He usually suggests design ideas or points out great shots. Camping trips happen a lot so that’s always a great start! I think one of my favorite shots is where he was posing dramatically at a cliff spot where you could see the whole town from below. Tank said one of his favorite pictures besides the night sky (because it’s so much prettier without light pollution in the way) was one of me of a blue butterfly on my nose. Tank also hijacked a few of the google drive album of him making angry faces and goofing of. So now our scrapbook has a page of us with funny faces complimented with whatever memes we printed off the internet (half of his choices were freedom memes and edgy skeleton memes)

I always was fascinated with urban exploring, especially abandoned malls and any fun indoor entertainment places like Showbiz Pizza. Considering doing that was what lead me to be meet Dempsey, I asked him about it. He raised his eyebrow at me.

🧨Really? You didn’t learn your lesson the first time, huh?

🌻It’s not going to be government owned property this time! And we’ll be fine if we’re quiet enough

🧨Technically everything’s government owned. But I’m not gonna let you get hurt. I’d never forgive myself if I lost you or something.

🌻Honey, please? It’s only once

🧨Alright, I guess you’ll be fine with a big strong man protecting you.

And then he’s wrapping me in a hug bc he knows I melt easily. 💕💕💕

Aside from the mushy stuff, now comes our adventure: the mall! An old abandoned mall that went bankrupt around 2007. We slip in quietly through the back that apparently lead us straight into the food court. There were lights on the neon signs but we relied on flashlights for the most part.

🌻It’s pretty scary with the lights off.

🧨The scariest thing about this food court is that it’s got an Arby’s.

We took photos around as best we could with our phones and figured to use Lightroom on my computer at home to brighten it up. The best part was breaking into an FYE and finding out that not all the stuff was boxed up! Dempsey was thrilled. “Hell yeah! Free shit!” He told me to open my backpack up to store his looting of cds and whatever movies we could find for a blind movie night. “Hey, finder’s keepers. It’s not stealing if we can’t pay anyone, right?”

It was tons of fun overall! The only part that freaked him out was a bit of the graffiti because what I’d hope were teenagers sprayed some devil talk in the lowest level. He didn’t make it obvious but I could see in his eyes that the emptiness of the mall with that was making him uneasy. Oh! And we got a sunset shot on the roof of the mall but we had to make it quick before anyone could flag us. I’d never be able to do it again because of safety reasons according to Dempsey but it was still great we got to go.

🌻This was so much fun! Thank you, Tank *Hugs him and leaves a kiss on his cheek*

🧨Aww, quit butterin’ me up! You know I’d do anything for you, Maddie!

[human-do-a-worm]

Ramblings of an Old Soldier Part 3/3

Sorry about the wait. The second dose of COVID vaccine drains you a lot more than the first dose. Anyways here’s part 3, part 1 and part 2 can be found here.

Admiral Sturm sat on the park bench as he always did. Sipping on his coffee and reading the latest news from his datapad. Once again, the Unkall boy approached him and sat beside him on the bench. He noticed that the aging Terran was wearing a strange uniform, with the image of a furred beast embroidered on the chest and upper right arm.

“Good afternoon Mr. Sturm.” “Ah, hello there son. Back for story time again?” “Yes sir. I was wondering what happened after the summit. Almost all traces of you vanished from records 8 cycles ago, and the only mentions of you after that were how the Terran Navy wanted you back.”

“Well, as I said the other day, I became a merc. My crew and I were the best. We took contracts from the Segmentum Norrus, all the way down to the Serectan Void. We didn’t work like most mercenary groups. We sought out our clients, and saw a lot of business. Everything from running escort duty on supply runs to desperate worlds, to taking down entire groups of bandits and pirates. Wherever we went, outlaws and tyrants alike feared the sight of The Wolf’s Den.”

“The Wolf’s Den? I think we heard about a group of people using that ship last cycle in our Galactic History class. Something about taking part in the Gingral war, only a few cycles ago.” “Ah yes, the Gingral war. Some of the bloodiest fighting I’ve ever seen. That was the last contract my crew and I took. We started off in a small role; mostly just escorting supply freighters to the border colonies since most of the supply lines had been cut and the colonists were starving. Our last supply run had been going well, until 6 light cruisers decloaked and opened fire. We did the best we could, but the supply freighter carrying food and civilians was destroyed in only a few minutes.”

“We could have escaped after that. Made a jump to the nearest Unkall station and gotten reinforcements, but My crew and I all knew what had to be done. We knew that the Gingral had to pay. They may have outnumbered us 6 to 1, and they may have had us outgunned, but they didn’t account for us having a mark 7 jump core. We warped around behind them and took down 2 of the light cruisers rather easily, but then we took a hit. The jump core cut out, and we were relying only on engine power.”

“But The Wolf’s Den must have survived somehow. The history logs said that it served through the entirety of the Gingral War.”

“That’s almost right. We knew that we wouldn’t be able to keep her together much longer, so we did what all Terrans do in situations like this. We became unpredictable. We gave all power to weapons and blasted the furthest ship from us, then mustered to the airlocks. We put on EVA gear and as soon as we were close enough to the next ship, we boarded.” “Wasn’t ship boarding added to the prohibited activities of War after the Terran war?” “It was, but targeting civilians has always been among the prohibited activities of War, so we were still committing a lesser infraction. We blasted open the port hangar with a plasma charge, and cleared the first room. Then we cleared the rest of the ship up to the bridge and took out the last remaining light cruiser. Changed the comms channels to the ones we had on The Wolf’s Den, then modified the IFF tag accordingly. When we arrived at the Unkall station we had just left, they demanded an explanation, so we told them what happened.” “And you weren't reprimanded?”

“Oh, we were. There was even a small tribunal held to determine if we could still fight. That’s when the call came in. Rakthis had been attacked, with only a handful of survivors. I immediately got up and started heading to my ship. The Unkall admiral demanded to know where I was going. After calmly telling him that there was now a full scale war, we had work to do. I went to the hangar and got the light cruiser repaired and ready for combat, but not before renaming it. The Wolf’s Den was never destroyed, it just became another ship.”

“What happened next?” the Unkall boy asked. “Weren’t the forces around Rakthis said to be uncounted?”

“They were, that’s why we didn’t go to Rakthis. We went to Waalon instead. Then to Rek’lon, and finally to Scrurros. Everywhere we went, we pushed back the Gingral horde. My first mate, Sarah Callingham, had family on the outer colonies back in the Vrumoid war. Saw most of them killed in front of her when their shuttle was shot down leaving atmosphere on Vrall VII. Scrurros was a tough nut to crack, and she had more crafty ideas than I did. We landed The Wolf’s Den on the uninhabited side of the planet, then bought a grav truck from one of the farmers. It was hard to weld the armor plates on it at the right angle, but mounting the lasguns and mortar was rather simple. I stood in the back, manning two of the lasguns and the mortar while she and two other soldiers were up front in the cab. We got almost to the planetary capital before we faced any resistance.”

“But the history logs said that Scrurros didn’t fall until the later end of the war.” “That’s right. We couldn’t take the planet as easily as we’d taken the others. When the first mortar hit the shield on the planetary governance center, we knew we were in for a fight. We got the truck away with only a few shots on the armor, but we were pursued by the planetary militia. One of the armored gun trucks fired their heavy las gun and took out the rear grav drive. With the back end of the truck along the ground, our speed tanked to a crawl. I was able to keep the militia back for a while by pinning them down with the lasguns, but then another shot hit us, dead center mass.”

“How bad was it? Were you alright?”

“I made it out with only a few scratches, scrapes, and bruises, but Sarah and the others up front weren't so lucky. The shot penetrated the cab and blew up at the steering linkage. Only Sarah, myself, and the one crewman in the back with me made it out of that. We ducked into a nearby building for cover, only to find that it was a school. Not wanting to put the civilians in danger, we lightly dressed Sarah’s wounds and went on into the forest surrounding the city. We came to a cave at the foot of a mountain, and made camp inside.” “Who was the other crewman that was with you? I notice that you haven’t said his name yet.”

“His name was Richard Grumman. He was the newest addition to The Wolfpack, joining us less than a cycle ago. We hadn’t had much time to get to know each other. The Militia found us in the first week, and he was shot to death on the night they raided the cave. Sarah and I managed to get away, but we were far from being safe. The next night we got a transmission from The Wolf’s Den; They had been found, and were wondering what to do. Sarah and I were at least four days away from the ship, so I made the call and told them to leave while they had the chance, to keep fighting and never forget about us.” “So you willingly stranded yourself and an injured crewmate on a hostile planet just to save your crewmates? The stories about the Terrans must be true.” “You’ll learn that those stories don’t even tell half the story if you stick on a Terran ship for even half a cycle. Anyways, there we were, just me and Sarah on Scrurros. I treated her wounds the best I could, but she wasn’t getting much better. Eventually she died, less than half a cycle into our time on that world. I retired with her body to the farmer who sold us the truck, and paid him to let me bury Sarah on his property. Much like with the freighter, the Gingral would pay. I took stock of what I had. Two lasguns, three fragmentation grenades, an energy grenade, and a plasma charge. Not nearly enough to take on the forces of the planet, but maybe enough to make it possible.”

“So what did you do? The Gingral don’t just let prisoners get away. Especially not in the middle of a war.” “Well, I couldn't just storm the Planetary Governance Center. That would accomplish nothing but my own death. Instead I went for something better. Three grids away from the Governance Center was the Defense Center. The plan was simple. Get inside, break as much stuff as I could, and hope that was enough to take down their defenses. It took me ten days to reach the capital again, and another three to figure out how to get inside. Turns out the Gringal didn’t make their roof as secure as they should have. I opened up the ventilation system and got inside. From there it was a short trip to the bunker exterior.”

“Aren’t Gingral bunkers some of the hardest to break open in the entire galaxy? How did you get inside?” “Simple; I didn’t break in; I snuck in. I kicked out the vent and got inside the bunker, then closed and locked the door behind me and smashed the controls. There were only technicians and a few soldiers inside, who were easy enough to dispatch. The harder part was accessing the communications room. Aside from the door of the bunker itself, the communications room was the most secure place in the facility. The door was half a meter thick, and barred at six points. That would prove to be a great challenge, so I left it for later. I quickly found the controls to the weapons system, and took it down. The planet was now mostly defenseless against ships in orbit and low atmosphere.”

“So you took down the guns, but how did you get in?”

“The door was too hard to get through, so I made my own instead. I went above the room and opened up the three fragmentation grenades. Terrna frag grenades use a pressure sensitive explosive to detonate, so I poured it out above the room, then placed the plasma charge on top of it. I ducked out of the room and waited for the explosion. When that charge went off, it was as if the whole planet shook. When I went in to check on the hole, the charge had only just broken through the floor. It took hours for me to get the hole wide enough for me to wriggle inside, but it was worth it. I contacted the Unkall fleet, and they were there within the week. The planet fell and I was pulled from the bunker before the food and water stores were even dented.”

“So that’s why taking Scrurros was so easy for the fleet. There wasn’t as much resistance as the planet originally had. And you were the one to take it down?”

“That’s right. After the war, I was broken. My knees were all but useless for fighting, and I could barely stand without swaying. The Unkall empire never forgot what my crew and I did. We were paid many times more than what was written in our contract, and they even got me a home right here on Unkall Prime. Now I sit here, enjoying retirement in my old age. Though the Terran lifespan is almost 50 cycles, we’re usually out of our working years after only 30 cycles. Our bodies are too old and weak to do most of the hard tasks that we normally would.”

“So what do you do now? Surely after a life like yours you want to do something just as exciting after you’re done working.”

“I mostly just read now. When you spend your life as a soldier, you miss out on so much. I never settled down and had kids, and my time for that is even drawing to a close. I did take up a few hobbies here and there, but nothing really stuck. I still work part time for the Unkall empire, training their soldiers in virtual reality simulations is about all I can do, but I’ve given the Unkall the strength to protect their planets, and given their generals and admirals the knowledge not to go on any missions they will regret. I’m happy with the contributions I’ve made in my life, and if I had the chance, I’d do it all over again. By the way, I never did catch your name.”

“My name is Ruthal Nerzak, and I’m slotted to be a soldier in the Unkall Defense Force.”

“Well Ruthal, I hope we will meet again someday.”

With that, Ruthal stopped recording and went home, finishing his final report.

A few days later, Ukall prime came under attack. A colonial independence group made numerous strikes around the city, and Ruthal had been caught outside on his way home from class. He tried to run away, but was chased by one of the insurgents down an alleyway, when suddenly two lasgun shots rang out. Ruthal though he was dead, but he slowly opened his four eyes and saw that the terrorist was dead on the ground in front of him. Looking up, he was me with a familiar face

“Thank you Mr. Sturm, I thought I was surely dead.”

“Don’t thank me yet, we’re seven grids away from the nearest shelter, and there’s enemies all around us. You said you wanted to be a soldier, well your training just started early.”

Sturm handed Ruthal the lasgun from the dead insurgent, and after showing him how to fire and teaching him how to make sure it doesn’t overheat, he led the Unkall boy out of the alley and down the street. Two blocks later, Sturm pulled the Unkall boy into an alley.

“Alright son, listen up. There’s about fifty armed and angry people between us and shelter. Our espace routes have been mostly cut off, so I need you to listen to me and listen well. When I tell you to run, you run as fast as you can. We should be able to get past most of them by taking the alleys across the street. I picked up some kit off one of these guys. The flashbang should buy us enough time to cross the street, but I’ll have to think of something after we get to our next crossing.”

Sturm threw the flashbang far into the crowd of terrorists, blinding a dozen of them and allowing them to cross the street. After seeing how many insurgents were at their crossing point, Sturm and Ruthal entered a tall residence building across from a big shootout between the insurgent and Unkall forces.

“Alright, we don’t stand a chance of crossing that. Here’s the plan. We’ll get up high, and then open fire on them. If nothing else, we’ll draw their attention away from the defense forces and allow them to break through.”

“I can’t. They’re people, just like us.” “Look around you kid. There’s men, women, and children all gunned down by these guys. I’m not sure what that makes them in Unkall society, but to us Terrans, they’re no longer people; they’re monsters. As a soldier, our job is to get rid of the monsters, so that everyone can sleep soundly at night knowing they’re safe. Taking a life isn’t something one does lightly, but it’s still something that has to be done. It’s better that we take them out, because if we don’t, who knows how many more people they’ll kill. We don’t do this because we like killing, we do this because we love the people we protect, and we’d give anything to keep them safe.”

“But I don’t want to hurt them.”

“I understand. I’m not sure if the Unkall have a saying like this, but Terrans sure do. You have a big heart. You want to keep people safe, not put them in the ground. But sometimes the best way to keep people safe is to put bad people in the ground. We’re between a rock and a hard place. If we sit here and do nothing, they will continue to hold this street, but if we can take them down, even just one or two of them, we can make them fight on two sides, which is the easiest way to break through an enemy line. I recognize a few of the soldiers I can see from up here. I trained them myself. They’ll realize what’s going on and they’ll do the heavy lifting; we just need to give them a helping hand. So, are you ready?”

The young Unkall nodded, then Sturm and Ruthal braced their lasguns on the windowsill, and opened fire on the street below. As Sturm said, the insurgents shifted their position, attempting to defend against incoming fire from two directions. As the Unkall defense forces broke the lines, a single shot came from the street and hit Sturm in the neck

Bleeding badly, Sturm stumbled back, Ruthall catching him in his arms. As he was losing his grasp on consciousness, Sturm held Ruthalls hand

“Never forget what happened here. Never forget the atrocities you saw with your own eyes, and never be afraid to rise up against the monsters who make things like this happen.”

With that, Sturm closed his eyes. Unkall security forces soon burst into the room, seeing the state of the old Terran, they gave him the best aid they could, and sent him off to the hospital, with Ruthall at his side.

After a lengthy surgery and two pints of blood, Sturm woke up in his hospital room, Ruthall asleep on his lap. Colonel Rengar, a soldier in the Unkall defense forces entered the room.

“So Admiral, I see your retirement is going well.”

“Can the crap Colonel. How many did we lose?”

“Casualties are still being counted, but even one is too many.”

“And what about the boy, Ruthall. Why is he still here?"

"His family were among those killed in the attack. We haven’t told him yet, just that we’re still looking for them.”

“So what will happen to him?”

“We don’t know. He doesn’t have any living family, and in our culture friend’s do not step in for situations like these. He will likely be left to become an adoptee for some family here, but after this, I’m not sure who would adopt him.”

“I will.”

“What? You can’t be serious. The looks he would get, especially here in the capital. I’m not sure if he can take it.”

“He knows my story. He knows that I take care of the ones I call family. He didn’t hesitate to pick up a rifle and follow me through the streets today, and he only barely hesitated to fight beside me. He’ll make a fine soldier, and he’ll make a damn good son. Get me the documents dammit.”

“Very well.”

Ruthall woke up, and was told about what happened. He didn’t take his family dying too well, but was glad that he would not be alone. The next day that school was in session, Admiral Sturm put on his old Terran uniform, and walked his son into class. It was not easy adjusting to caring for a young Unkall child, but it was a change that Sturm was happy to make. He had known what it was like to be alone, and now he could keep Ruthall from knowing that pain.

The End

Let me know if you guys want a follow up series about Sturm and Ruthall on Unkall Prime, and how they live their lives together.

[mythicamagic]

Funeral Flowers: a Sesskag Oneshot

Summary:  Sesshoumaru knows what Kagome's favourite flower is- because it just so happens Forget-Me-Nots have been filling his throat for months. Hanahaki Disease fic. Sesskag oneshot.

AN: for @drosselmeyerwrites​, who is also a lover of the 'suffering Sesshoumaru' trope. She's been a lovely commenter and wholesome person in the fandom ^^

Warning: body horror elements. This is a Hanahaki Disease fic with a twist on the concept.

Words: 10,000

Rated M

@cookieasylum​ drew an amazing fanart for this fic so please check this fic out on Ao3!

Funeral Flowers

It started as a mere flutter. Sesshoumaru could feel it at the back of his throat: the beginnings of something that tickled and irritated his windpipe- not enough to cause anything serious, but just noticeable. This sensation only worsened with time.

Kagome looked at him like he'd grown a second head after hearing him stifle a certain noise clumsily behind his fingers.

"Huh," she mused, peering closely at him. "I don't think I've ever heard you cough before."

After a few weeks, he'd begun coughing. A little blemish that he could easily hide behind his hand. Sesshoumaru had wanted no one to notice such a shameful thing. An unwilling action, but required in order to clear his airways.

"Hn," peeling long fingers away from his down-turned mouth, he looked away. Kagome shifted bare legs in the glittering water, lounging on some rocks by a river while half-heartedly sunbathing in a tank top and shorts. Golden eyes slid back to the slim, pale stretch of her smooth, toned leg as she swayed it.

"Kind of a human action, isn't it? Do demons even get colds?" her concern only seemed to increase. "You're not sick, are you?"

"No," he huffed, adjusting himself beside her. They kept a respectable distance. 'Friends' was what she called them. Sesshoumaru tried and failed to tear his gaze away from the parting of her thighs as she stretched languidly. "I do not get sick," he added, "such a thing is beneath me."

Kagome slid both arms behind her head to act as a cushion, laying down. "A few years ago you'd have said sitting beside a priestess ankle-deep in a river would be 'beneath' you. Things change."

Sesshoumaru tilted his chin up to regard her haughtily and gave a dignified snort, adjusting his rolled-up hakama pants. "It is beneath me."

Kagome rose a brow, fluttering one hand carelessly in a shooing motion, "go on then. Leave if it's so offensive," she sighed, trying and failing to hide her smile.

No.

His body flared alive at the thought, unsettled. Sesshoumaru bit back another prickling cough, settling for clearing his throat. "You should be the one to leave. This one was here first."

"Wha- no! I got to the river before you!"

"I was referring to age. Bratty mikos should listen to their elders."

Kagome burst out laughing, sitting up to lightly bat his shoulder. "That makes you sound ancient! You're such a dork. No one else knows how much of an absolute dork you are, do they? It's a crying shame."

Sesshoumaru did not know what a 'dork' was, but he assumed it to be something unflattering. He should've been annoyed by it, aggravated. Kagome's playful, happy scent made this notion impossible.

Thin lips twitched at the edges, dragging his heels through the cool current. He couldn't honestly put into words why exactly he'd shown up, following her scent. Logically, he knew he should leave her alone.

They fell into an amicable silence again, one that had been born from months of time spent together. Odd snatches of coincidental meetings had flourished into something more, and they'd begun seeking one another out for company whenever he visited the village. Sometimes she even paid him a visit the Western Stronghold. Any demons who complained about it were silenced by how… determined the miko was to make friends. A force of nature. It had amused him to no end watching ancients tripping over themselves to try to avoid her bad books.

He could also deeply understand those who had taken an immense liking to her.

Kagome was warm and teasing, a rare thing not wholly unwelcome. Her stories of the future were interesting, personality vibrant but down to earth and occasionally sassy. He enjoyed her more than he should, a quiet, snarky male by nature basking in her effortless glow.

"What's your favourite flower?"

He blinked, "this is a question belonging to Rin. I do not expect such fanciful notions from you."

Kagome huffed and flicked her hand to splash some water over his knee. "I can talk about flowers if I want to. Shinto asked me what mine were, so I got to thinking. I'd like to know what yours are too- or do pretty dog demons baring flower crests not have an opinion on them?"

He sniffed, bringing down one leg to create a splash that soaked her side. Kagome let out a yelp. "The Shiragiku flower. "

"Oh you can't be serious!" She giggled. "When I asked what your favourite colour was, you said 'white' of all things. White! That's the absence of colour!"

"This one is aware. You kept rabbiting on about it," he wiped some imaginary lint off one shoulder.

"But still! And now you tell me you like flowers that are infamously used for funerals," blue eyes rolled skyward, glittering with mirth. "Why am I not surprised, Mr Killing Perfection?"

Thin lips lifted into a sneer free of malice. "Very well, Shikon miko. What is your favoured flower?"

Kagome hummed. "Forget-Me-Nots."

Letting out a noise between a huff and a chuckle, he shot her an exasperated look. "And you give me grief over mine. Did you not say that blue was your favoured colour?"

"Hey, Forget-me-Nots can be pink, white or blue! I'm not as predictable in my tastes as some people."

That was most definitely true, he thought flatly. She had moved on from her first love, a Hanyou- only to bond with a Daiyoukai, and then…

And then…

Kagome stood, stretching both arms above her head. Sesshoumaru knew what she'd say before she even said it, wincing and bringing a hand absentmindedly to the base of his throat. It throbbed. Now the ache even seemed to seep lower.

What is this pain in my chest? He wondered. What is this strange sensation?

"I should go."

Sesshoumaru slid tired attention up to her and nodded silently. He would not wish her well.

"Shinto will wonder where I am," she needlessly elaborated.

"Indeed."

Kagome glanced at him and dropped her arms. "What's wrong?"

He thought to tell her, not for the first time. But it was silenced by everything else that had come before. Their history. Their species. Her lack of discernible interest, her new flame. A heavy weight pressed down upon his chest. His shoulder ached.

"Nothing. I am fine."

Dark brows pulled together. Sesshoumaru stood and nudged her away with a single palm on her back that lingered too long. "Go. I am… merely hungry."

"Oh!" a look of relief swept over her face. Kagome laughed, "okay, I'll leave you in peace. Happy hunting!"

Sesshoumaru felt his chest ache and constrict while his expression remained a blank mask. He covertly winced after she'd jogged away to a trail within the forest that would take her back to Kaede's village. She stopped to wave, and he quickly wiped his expression clean again, rendering it neutral.

Kagome smiled gently, her face full of friendly affection. Sesshoumaru regally inclined his head, eyes burning.

Do not go.

She left him alone, hurrying away to see her new flame in complete ignorance.

Sesshoumaru coughed and massaged the base of his throat as soon as she was gone, frowning.

Feeling something stuck to the roof of his mouth with his tongue, he curiously parted his lips and reached behind a sharp tooth to pluck the soft, small thing out.

Damp from saliva, a tiny, pretty blue petal caught his attention, clutched between forefinger and thumb. Sesshoumaru stared. A sense of creeping foreboding slipped into the back of his mind at the discovery.

This did not bode well.

---

His affliction made visits to the village difficult. It was easier in the beginning when he could hide a few coughs and tickles of the throat. Steadily, however, the discomfort increased. Sesshoumaru needed to pick out petals from his mouth every day, and the number of them only grew with frequency. He had to remove the irritating little things every hour now.

"Lord Sesshoumaru has been picking at his teeth a lot lately," he heard Rin whisper to Jaken, pausing mid-brush. She had been tasked with caring for the old miko's horse. "Is it a toothache?"

"Shh! Don't comment on such a thing so loudly, girl! If Lord Sesshoumaru wants to do some teeth maintenance, then he may do so!" Jaken squawked, frowning up at her.

Sesshoumaru cut golden eyes to the sky and turned away.

"Ah, I didn't mean to insult you, Lord Sesshoumaru!"

"You're STILL drawing attention to it!" Jaken griped.

Pointed ears twitched, blocking out their animated voices and tuning into a set of quick footsteps. Sesshoumaru inhaled, wincing as his lungs protested- the scent of citrus, summer and home comforts reaching him long before Kagome appeared from around the side of a hut. She beamed. His heart ached.

"Hey," she called, trotting over.

"Hello, Kagome!" the little girl waved enthusiastically, wobbling.

Steadying Rin atop her wooden perch as she continued brushing the tall horse, Kagome flashed him a knowing look. "You look tense. Is it from being near the stables?" she teased.

Rin gasped, "does Lord Sesshoumaru not like horses?"

"It's their smell, you nitwit!"

Kagome frowned at Jaken, before searching Sesshoumaru's face for answers. Obviously his silence and demeanour was starting to worry her. Taking a breath, he tried to ignore the petals stuck in the gaps of his teeth. He could feel more building, pooling in the back of his throat like thick mucus.

"They are skittish and afraid of this one. It is better to keep distance."

Predictably, Kagome gentled- but surprised him by easing closer. She seized his hand, tugging- and he was helpless to do anything but follow. Heat touched his cheeks.

Kagome walked backwards, maintaining eye contact like the femme fatale she wasn't, shifting her soft touch to grasp the back of his hand, lacing lithe fingers through his. She then forced the Daiyoukai's palm to rest against a warm neck. The horse shifted slightly, tail flicking, yet it did not startle. With Kagome's prompting, Sesshoumaru glided the flat of his calloused palm down the length of its powerful neck, the thin layer of brown fur tickling his skin.

"Maji isn't like other horses, he's calm around demons. He has to be if Kaede is gonna ride him to fight Youkai," her voice glided through his ear canals like melted honey. Kagome hummed, "though she said because of her age that he might be mine soon. Weird, huh? It's like she's prepping me to be the village miko more and more."

"It is not 'weird,' it is expected," he uttered, thrilled at the prolonged touch. How foolish. The heat of her palm felt exquisite, hand clasped intimately around his. "You will make an acceptable village miko."

Blue eyes flitted up to him, smiling. She gave his hand a squeeze. "Thanks, but… sometimes I wonder if-"

"Ah, so this is where you escaped to."

Sesshoumaru stiffened. Kagome ripped her fingers away- tearing open a gaping hole inside him. He quickly stifled a cough, but it was larger this time, throat clogged. His shoulders shook, sweat dotting his brow.

Kagome was busy being scooped up by Shinto, a large male. He dressed well, for a human, a jagged scar running over one eye. A momento from his mercenary days, he'd called it, though he was now reformed.

Kagome laughed and swatted his shoulder, demanding to be put down. Jaken piped up, yelling about indecency. All the while, Sesshoumaru fought not to let anything show. To not let the agony out. The jealousy. The consuming desire to act upon instinct and take what he ached for.

He couldn't stand it. Couldn't stand seeing the male's burly, meaty hands drag over her hips to settle at the base of her spine. Like they belonged there. Sesshoumaru coughed again, drawing away.

Kagome caught the action, turning to him. "Sesshoumaru?"

He hated the concern swimming in her gaze. It would be so much easier to despise her.

"I have lingered too long," he said quietly, trying to mask the rawness of his voice. "This one should be going."

Kagome nodded slowly, "do you want some honey to soothe your throat? It sounds a little-"

"No," he quietly snapped, starting to walk away. Confusion immediately curdled in her scent, and he regretted the lapse in control. Now she'd worry.

Foolishness.

"Lord Sesshoumaru!" Jaken hurriedly ran after him, following his Lord from the village. "Bah, those humans get more presumptuous every day. I don't blame you for leaving in such a hurry," he muttered, keeping up his tangent long after they'd met the treeline of Inuyasha's forest.

Sesshoumaru unexpectedly stopped, slamming claws into tree bark and causing it to splinter.

Jaken yelped, jumping and dropping his staff. "Mi-mi Lord?" bulbous eyes widened upon seeing him stoop over slightly, silver hair obscuring ashen features.

Sesshoumaru's shoulders shook, dry heaving sounds reaching Jaken's hearing. The retainer gasped, watching him cough, gasp and choke. Thick trails of dewy saliva pooled onto the ground. Rasping noises shuddered out from clenched teeth. Trembling claws reached inside his mouth, feeling something at the back of his throat. Grasping it, Sesshoumaru fought not to gag, coughing while removing the thing and looking at it with stinging eyes.

A Forget-me-not flower sat innocently between forefinger and thumb.

Both demons stared. Phlegm soaked petals rested at Sesshoumaru's feet. Jaken stood gravely silent for a while.

"Mi Lord…" he said thinly. "You have fallen prey to something very old…"

"You will not breathe a word about it to anyone," Sesshoumaru coughed, eyes stinging. He straightened and wiped his mouth, collecting himself. He threw the flower aside.

"But-"

"No one, Jaken," Sesshoumaru hissed, molten golden eyes burning. "Or I'll kill you."

Jaken yelped and quickly bowed several times, promising wholeheartedly not to interfere.

"I-I understand! However, if it's not too much trouble, perhaps you could hear out a suggestion?"

Sesshoumaru sneered and started walking again, his breathing slightly hoarse and rasping now, no longer quiet. His lips pressed together, trying to silence himself. It proved painful, and he quickly breathed through his mouth again.

Jaken tentatively continued; "your affliction is something ancient. I know little about it, but I do remember that it's possible to have it removed before it claims your life."

Sesshoumaru stopped, hands curling into fists. Claws scraped palms.

"That will not do, either," came his soft response.

"W-why ever not, milord?! This matter is potentially deadly to demons!"

Sesshoumaru stared ahead unseeingly. He knew of the affliction too. Had recognised what it was immediately. If he removed the flowering bud from within his chest, wiped away all evidence from her from his body, then he'd lose the very thing that had made him catch the illness in the first place.

His feelings for Kagome Higurashi.

"My reasons are my own," Sesshoumaru coughed behind his hand. "I will not die. Do not fuss over trivial matters, Jaken."

His retainer gaped, hurrying after him. Fierce worry painted his features. The infamous and deadly Hanahaki Curse could fell even the strongest of Daiyoukai.

---

It interfered with eating.

Sesshoumaru thankfully did not need to eat too often, but hunger inevitably gnawed its way into his gut. Transformed, he raced through the forest on all fours in a smaller version of his true form. Low-hanging branches lashed at his face. Forget-me-not flowers lodged in his throat conglomerated into a thick mass. They were practically a ball stuck at the back of his mouth. Sesshoumaru managed to ignore it just enough to track the scent of a deer- only to lose it and find a green pheasant within range.

Barely a snack, but it would do.

With a gurgling snarl, Sesshoumaru sprang at some bushes. Squawking with distress, the bird took flight- only to be caught in his jaws. Bringing sharp teeth down elicited a satisfying crunch. The taste of iron filled his parched mouth. Tilting his head back, Sesshoumaru had every intention of swallowing it whole. He'd done so before. The bird was small enough compared to his form. However, this quickly became impossible.

Red eyes widened. The flowers acted as a barrier, preventing food from travelling down his throat.

Spitting out the bird, Sesshoumaru tore into it. He tried again and again, breaking the kill into smaller pieces. He even tried drinking from the river to wash down the flowers. Nothing worked. No food could pass into his stomach.

With a low crooning noise that hissed out between his teeth, Sesshoumaru padded away from his uneaten kill with an agitated flick of his tail.

---

It affected his sleep next.

At his Stronghold in the Western lands, Sesshoumaru set aside his paperwork and retired to bed. Curling into a nest of furs, he stretched out long legs, sprawling on one side.

Only to feel a dull ache thrum from his ribs.

Wincing and setting a hand over the spot, Sesshoumaru frowned. He was unfamiliar with the sensation, however, Kagome had once whined and complained about 'pulling a muscle.' Perhaps the tight, clamping sensation echoed that pain. Deciding to roll over onto his opposite side- he abruptly burst into a coughing fit. The angle had upset his breathing, lungs protesting.

This vicious cycle continued long into the night. He tossed and turned, trying to get comfortable. Even laying still made him feel tense and pained. In the end, Sesshoumaru rose from his futon and began running.

Too tired to think, he transformed, relying on instinct to guide him. He whined softly; the ache spreading. He wheezed a little, breathing constrained despite being physically fit.

The inuyoukai sprinted to the outskirts of Kaede's village. Scenting the air, he caught a welcome fragrance on the breeze.

Mate.

Clearing the hillside with a single bound, Sesshoumaru shrank his form even further to that of a regular dog. Sniffing around the outside of a hut, fluffy ears perked. She was not home.

Where?

Following the invisible trail in the air, he padded around the village, passing by unseen by some villagers. Their lack of vigilance disgusted him. What lax security. Stopping at the Monk and Slayer's hut, he listened, hearing a soft humming from within. The sharp tang of blood, vomit, faeces and afterbirth caught his frayed attention.

The Slayer had been pregnant. From the sounds and smells of things, she had given birth and now slept while Kagome remained awake. He could pick up the faint fussing from a young babe.

Sesshoumaru stayed still, listening to the miko gently hum. Slowly, his body weakened, and the inuyoukai lay down outside the hut, resting a weary head atop large paws.

Something stirred from within, the rustle of covers. "Mn... are you alright? Want me to take over?"

"No, I'm fine," Kagome answered in a hushed tone. "He seems completely zonked out, little cutie-pie."

The Slayer paused, "your head. You said it was aching again earlier."

"Heh, Sango! You've just had another baby! Focus on yourself!" her lovely voice tinged with exasperation. "Really, everything is okay. It just hurts from time to time ever since that night with the boar youkai attack. It's no big deal."

"Prolonged headaches and amnesia does not fall under 'no big deal,' Kagome."

Laughing this off breezily, he could hear the shrug in her tone. "I just blank on a few things from the month prior to the attack. I'm sure it wasn't anything important."

Tired lids slid shut, and Sesshoumaru gained some sense of rest while imagining the woman within cradling a newborn pup instead of a gurgling infant. The two women talked some more, lulling him into a false sense of comfort even as his throat thrummed with continuous pain.

---

Breathing was a struggle.

Every inhale became a wheezing, quivering thing. Like crumpled paper that had been smoothed out and squashed too many times. Mucus constantly filled his mouth, senses clogged. His breathing ranged from laboured to a noisy, rasping thing.

He could no longer afford to visit the village. Sesshoumaru took to monitoring Rin from afar whenever he felt the need to check up on her. Needless to say, he avoided Kagome at all costs. The miko was an infamous busy body who would become a nightmare to deal with if she knew of his suffering.

Yes, that was the only reason.

However, on a random day he briefly let his guard down, the unthinkable happened.

Inuyasha found out.

If Sesshoumaru had comprised a list of all the beings he did NOT want to know about his affliction, Inuyasha would be right up there, along with his meddling mother.

Inuyasha stared, watching him with a complicated, horrified look on his gruff features. Shifting, Sesshoumaru stood from where he'd been knelt by a river.

Forget-me-nots floated downstream.

"... What the hell is wrong with you?" were the first words Inuyasha blurted out.

Sesshoumaru wiped his mouth, sneering. "I need not explain myself to you, whelp."

"Keh, if anything warrants a damn explanation, it's barfing up flowers."

He didn't need to hear anymore, turning with the intent to leave. No doubt the fool would talk nonsense, and he had no patience for such things with his current headache. His temples were pounding, throat parched.

"Why don't you just fucking tell her, you coward?"

That certainly caught his attention. Sesshoumaru halted. "What?" he croaked.

"Ya think I'm that ignorant, huh?" Inuyasha rolled his eyes, shoving both hands inside his sleeves. "I know."

"Know what, exactly," silken tones rasped. "You are but an ignorant pup. You were not raised within youkai circles, and so could not possibly understand."

"And whose fault is that?" shaking his head, Inuyasha huffed. "I dunno what crap you're yappin' on about, anyway. I'm talkin' about your secret relationship with Kagome that you had a couple of months ago."

Stiffening, Sesshoumaru felt his bones lock and throat inflame. He swallowed, wincing slightly. He flashed his teeth, "whatever you think you know, it is incorrect. A baseless assumption."

"Bullshit!"

Continuing to walk with every intention of escaping the pending conversation, he stopped dead the second Inuyasha opened his mouth; "I could smell you on her! But that all changed the second she hit her head. Did she forget you or something? You were happy to just abandon her after she stopped being useful for a good time?"

A deafening snarl upset his aching throat, ripping something inside. Blurring through the air impossibly fast, Sesshoumaru snatched up his sibling's throat and slammed him into a tree, causing the trunk to shudder.

"Silence," a blood-curdling rasp hissed out from clenched teeth like boiling steam. Crimson eyes glowed, claws itching to bury into the nuisance's windpipe.

Even while choking, Inuyasha managed to bark out a laugh, grasping a striped wrist. "You really do like her, huh? Never thought I'd see the day, bastard." White ears pulled back flat against his skull. "What's the deal? Just open your mouth and tell Kagome. Then I don't have to smell your pining ass all over the forest while you stalk her."

Burning embers were snuffed out. Sesshoumaru coughed, lifting a hand to his mouth. His shoulder thrummed, aching. "I cannot do that."

"Why not?"

"She does not remember," releasing him, the Daiyoukai stepped back. "The miko fell quite quickly for the male who rescued her that night. The fault lies with me that she sustained injury. If she is content with another, I cannot force her gaze to me."

It wasn't as though he hadn't tried. However, Kagome seemed happy with their relationship as friends. Guilt, stung pride and other such ugly emotions were all tied up with the incident.

Inuyasha blinked with disbelief, sizing him up. "When the fuck did you get so noble?" Sesshoumaru sneered, glancing away as his brother continued. "And anyway, what does that have to do with you coughing up flowers?"

Since he'd revealed more than intended as it was, Sesshoumaru felt no inclination to divulge extra information. He turned and this time; resolved not to stop walking. "Drop the subject, whelp."

"Maybe I'll tell Kagome about it."

Sesshoumaru did not falter, knowing the fool's game by now. "Do as you please," he dismissed in a wheezing, thin voice, stepping under the cool shade of weeping willow trees and leaving him behind.

---

He did not intend to revisit their old rendezvous point. Sesshoumaru had wanted to put it behind him, to let everything that had happened within the cave fade into obscurity.

The second he stepped foot within the mossy mouth of its opening, however, Kagome's lingering scent fanned over a striped cheek like a breathy exhale.

Long white lashes slid half shut. Hooded golden eyes became hazed. The memory of her salty, sweet taste wrapping around his tongue flooded his senses. Claws twitched, recalling the phantom sensation of full breasts falling into his palms as her back arched exquisitely. Her eyes had darkened into a lush, deep blue.

She'd been memorable, to say the least.

Walking further in, so that he stood fully submerged in their love-nest, Sesshoumaru basked in the illicit scents and breathy whispers he could remember caressing his hearing. It hadn't just been about sex. It never was with her.

Kagome had held his demonic hand without fear and stroked his cheek, murmuring ardently or giggling quietly. She told him things he hadn't thought he'd wanted to know before.

'You're nothing like your father' she'd said easily but with a conviction that made the ageless demon believe her. The notion should've been insulting. His sire had been unbeatable in strength, so of course he should wish to be like him.

Yet Sesshoumaru had never appreciated such compliments. He wished to be unique, bold, powerful, walking an entirely different path. Her words had been strangely welcome.

"And yet here I stand, Father," Sesshoumaru uttered to himself. In love with a mortal. Dying, because of a human woman of all things.

Just like you.

"Sesshoumaru?"

Golden eyes snapped wide open. A wave of elation, dread, guilt and longing washed over him. Every fibre of his being flared to life, muscles stiffening, heart racing. His lungs constricted.

Sesshoumaru swallowed a rasping breath, shifting to face the priestess.

Kagome crept closer, glancing around the cave curiously. "Was just in the forest to collect some things. I thought I sensed you close by. Looks like I was right. What are you doing in here?"

"Nothing," he said softly. His voice sounded fragile these days.

He could tell she was confused, radiating hurt. He hadn't visited in so long. No doubt she'd wondered why. The flowers buried within his windpipe felt heavier in her presence. He cleared his throat.

"Oh," Kagome scuffed a sandal over the dirt-covered floor. "Well... I'm glad I caught you-" she offered a tentative smile. "I've missed talking with you."

Sesshoumaru's insides screamed at him. The marks on his shoulder felt like blistering iron tongues being thrust into his flesh they wailed so loud.

Mate.

"I dunno what's kept you away," Kagome continued talking, making her way out of the cave. He followed, "but you haven't missed much. Rin is progressing nicely with her riding though. I'm not too shabby with that thin sword you gave me either, though Shinto says I need more practice."

That very sent icy needles piercing his skin. Stepping foot outside, Sesshoumaru couldn't stop the abrupt bite in his tone; "why are you here, miko?"

Kagome blinked and glanced at him over one shoulder. She then threaded her fingers behind her back, attention sliding away, voice unreadable.

"Shinto proposed to me."

Sesshoumaru stopped. A profound sense of loss rendered him breathless. He anticipated a coughing fit. Wheezing. Pain. But there was nothing, just him and Kagome standing alone in the silent woods. But she'd be beyond his reach for good soon.

He'd tried. He'd tried hard to forget, as she had. To push all the feelings and words right down from his throat into his chest. Maybe that was how the curse had started.

But he'd have kept the curse for good if it meant lingering in the 'almost' fantasy of them.

Now that illusion would shatter.

The very idea of her belonging to another felt like a wound somewhere inside him that he couldn't locate. The sensation of teeth on his shoulder thrummed, and he coughed, snuffing out the sound behind his hand.

"I didn't really know what to say," Kagome was muttering. "A part of me feels like it's too soon. I wanted to talk to you about it-"

"This one is needed elsewhere," he said in a clipped tone, turning on his heel.

He couldn't be her confidant anymore. Not about this.

"What?"

He began walking, trying to put distance between them. He should've known it wouldn't work as Kagome quickly caught up and planted herself firmly in his way, halting the demon.

"Okay, what is going on with you?" she demanded. "Is it the cough? Are you in so much pain that you can't talk to me?"

Sesshoumaru flashed his teeth in a faint sneer, throat protesting at the extended use of his vocal cords. "is it so unthinkable that for once, I may not have time for you, miko?"

"Yes," Kagome planted both hands on her hips. "Because this isn't an isolated thing. I've hardly seen you all month! And besides that, you're my friend, Sesshoumaru. Friends tell each other things. Remember how you talked about the court and how obnoxious General Kito was to deal with? Things like that. I need to talk to you about this- and clearly, you need to talk to someone about whatever's going on with you. I'm worried about you!"

His heart clenched, and Sesshoumaru bit back a hiss at the stab of pain it caused. Thin breathing rasped and rattled. He raised a hand, urging her aside via a gentle grasp on her shoulder to continue walking.

Kagome's grip was not so gentle as she latched onto his arm.

Frustration abruptly burst in his chest and Sesshoumaru snarled, whirling with the intent of spilling everything to her. Ruin their friendship. Burn everything they'd built and admit his failure to protect her-

-only to cough up a mouthful of blood onto her collarbone.

Kagome yelped in surprise, eyes wide. Touching the wet substance dazedly, horror paled her complexion. She looked up at him with palpable fear.

"S-Sesshoumaru?"

Humiliation stung white-hot and burning into his body. The visceral, blinding sensation of being exposed- of being seen- felt like too much. Too raw. As a demon unused to such things, his first instinct was to remove himself from the situation.

Sesshoumaru blurred away from her outstretched hands, putting the length of the clearing between them.

Kagome called his name again with alarm, asking him to wait, but he would not heed her call.

Taking to the skies, he flew fast and erratically, a wobbly figure. Coughing hard and feeling blood clog up his windpipe like mud, Sesshoumaru had no choice but to land not long after.

Within an overcast clearing upriver from Kagome, he steadied himself against a gnarled tree.

"Hah- hah-" he wheezed, doubling over and squeezing stinging eyes shut.

Something suddenly constricted tight around his lungs, around his very ribcage. Bones protested and ached. He gasped for breath, blood leaking from his open mouth to pool on the floor. Forget-me-nots mingled with it, petals stained red.

Jolting and snapping upright, Sesshoumaru arched his back, throwing back his head. A cry escaped him unlike any other. Loud, agonised and roaring in its ferocity tinged with pain.

Stems shot out from within his ribcage, tearing his chest asunder.

---

Her friends made noises of alarm at the sight of Kagome's bloodied clothes, but the miko ignored Sango and Miroku's questions, bypassing them in favour of finding and grabbing Jaken by the scruff of his robes.

"You're going to tell me in 10 words or less what the hell is going on with your lord," she demanded.

Jaken yelped and squinted, hanging from her hold. "Haven't the faintest idea of what you could be alluding to!" he sniffed.

Kagome snarled and bared her teeth, lifting him closer with a menacing expression and gesturing to the red substance marring her priestess robes. "This is HIS blood. He looked awful. Like- like he was dying, Jaken," her voice broke. "Please. I need to know what's happening. He won't tell me what's wrong and I'm scared."

Yellow eyes rounded wider, swallowing the imp's face. He appeared conflicted.

"Kagome!"

Releasing Jaken, Kagome shifted her attention to Inuyasha, who leapt towards her with alarm pinching his gruff features.

Dread dropped low in her stomach. That was never a good sign.

Distant snapping noises like wood being felled reached her ears. From behind the approaching Hanyou within the forest, large vines could be seen shifting and slithering over a portion of the trees.

"What is it?" Miroku gaped. "I sense a demonic aura, but it's distorted."

Kagome shuddered, feeling strange. She recognised that energy. Identified it as easy as breathing.

"Maybe a forest spirit has been disturbed?" Sango guessed, clutching her son a little more protectively.

"It ain't that," Inuyasha dropped from his jump, landing before them. He panted, white hair windswept. Of all people, his gaze landed upon the miko first. "It's Sesshoumaru."

----

Their way became blocked by a thick mass of vines crisscrossing through the forest. It created a wall, preventing any from entering.

"Lord Sesshoumaru must be further in," Miroku observed, leaning to inspect the leaves. "Beyond this 'barrier' I suppose you could call it."

"I wonder what could have happened," Kagome murmured, brows pulling together. "Sesshoumaru doesn't even have nature powers."

"Why on earth did you bring ME along for this?" a high pitched, nasally voice reached their ears. Sango and Inuyasha readily ignored it, while Kagome frowned down at the imp she held by the scruff of his robes.

"Because you're clearly hiding something, and until you come clean, I'm not letting you out of my sight."

His mouth thinned into a stubborn line, glancing away.

Kagome turned her attention back to the vines. Worry took root in her stomach. The memory of the Daiyoukai spitting up blood remained fresh in her mind, evidence of it staining her clothing and plastering it against her skin.

Handing Miroku their son, Sango went first. She swung Hiraikotsu with a seemingly effortless toss- the bone boomerang spiralling, cleaving trees in half but bouncing straight off the vine wall. It didn't so much as leave a dent.

Not wasting another moment, Inuyasha unsheathed Tetsusaiga. Everyone immediately gave him a wide berth, watching as he shook the sword out into a monstrous blade. He swung it back over one shoulder, feet planted far apart- delivering a swift blow downwards with a loud cry.

A burst of power shot out, heading straight for the vines. They made contact, and for a moment Kagome thought the consuming golden light might break through, only for it to fizzle out. The insurmountable wall remained intact.

Inuyasha tried again and again, using different techniques. None of them worked.

Nocking an arrow in her bow, Kagome took aim. Pale pink reiki split forth, coating the arrow while glowing ever more blinding until she set it free.

She held out hope as it shot through the vines, managing to burst through the dense foliage- which repaired itself almost immediately, covering up the hole.

"Nothing appears to be working," Miroku muttered, turning his friends. "Perhaps we should seek advice elsewhere first before trying to continue."

Her friend's voices faded into background noise as Kagome approached the vines. Frowning slightly, she stretched out her senses, using her aura to touch and brush against the barrier. It felt like him.

If that were the case, the wall was of Sesshoumaru's own making, whether he'd consciously chosen to hide away or not. Perhaps they were going about things the wrong way.

Thinking back to Maji and how carefully they'd run their linked hands down his neck, she raised a palm. Gradually easing closer, Kagome set it down gently onto the vines, stroking downwards.

Hearing outcries of alarm as the greenery parted, only for swirling stems to curl about her shoulders- Kagome quickly grabbed Jaken.

"It's okay, guys. Just find a way to follow me in later," she met their startled gazes. "I feel like I need to reach him quickly."

"Kagome, wait!"

Ignoring their protests, Kagome lept into the fray. She welcomed the green vines that wrapped around her, enclosing the miko and wailing kappa securely behind its wall.

---

Mercifully the winding tendrils of vines that moved as though infused with a will of their own allowed her freedom of movement. Kagome climbed through their moving, twisting stems, occasionally losing her footing and having to grasp hold of some.

"Again, I ask; WHY ARE YOU BRINGING ME ALONG WITH YOU?!" Jaken shrieked, clinging to her back and looking around fretfully.

"You know the answer to that. Tell me what you know about Sesshoumaru's situation and I'll let you go," Kagome hummed, shielding her eyes and looking up at sprawling branches above where sunlight streamed through. Maybe she could punt him over the treetops.

"I have sworn not to break my vow of silence on the matter!"

Grinding her teeth, Kagome stopped and reached over her shoulder, tearing him from her back to frown at him. "If your silence ends up hurting him, is it even worth it? Which means more to you; Sesshoumaru's trust or his life?"

Jaken clamped up, thinking about this for a moment. His eyes abruptly filled with tears, "fine! But you had best save me from his wrath once this is over."

Kagome grinned and patted him on the head, continuing to walk. "I promise."

He huffed, "Lord Sesshoumaru is suffering from a curse."

Blue eyes widened, and Kagome set Jaken over her shoulder like she would Shippo. He did not appreciate the gesture as the kit would while she minded swirling vines aside from their path and ducked through. "What kind of curse?"

"How much do you know about youkai mates, foolish mortal?"

At that, she tilted her head, noticing a blue flowering bud among the vines and gently touching it in passing. "Very little. I know they're like married couples. They, uh... make love and bite each other instead of having a wedding ceremony and stuff. That about sum it up?"

"Insolent girl!" Jaken griped, noticing the bud she touched opening up into a flower behind them. "It is far more than that! Their energies synchronise, aura's linking. However, it's quite imperative they both bite one another."

"Or else the mating is incomplete? What's so bad about that?"

"The partner that was bitten will consider them mated and suffer a one-sided attachment. This isn't so terrible if they have the bite mark healed and lose their troublesome feelings towards their mate," he continued with a self-important air. Kagome didn't mind it if it meant getting answers. "But... if they choose to linger in longing and are prevented from completing the mating, then their energies become distorted! Their youki takes on a life of its own as flowers."

"That's what these vines are," Kagome mused. She shifted, a strange, unsettled feeling churning in her gut. "You're implying someone bit Sesshoumaru? He'd never allow someone to do that if he didn't want it- let alone not reciprocate. Besides, if he could remove it, he'd have surely done so."

"I agree this situation is unprecedented! Unthinkable! Besides that, ANY partner resisting Lord Sesshoumaru's advances is unworthy of being his mate! AH-!"

Kagome jolted, feeling a weight lift from her back. Glancing over her shoulder, she gaped and strained to reach Jaken. Vines had wrapped tight around his mid-section, lifting him away.

"Hang on!" she shimmied her bow off her arm, quickly taking aim. Releasing the arrow, she watched as it hit the mark, sailing through a vine and breaking it in two. Jaken yelped, falling, only to be caught by another vine that continued dragging him back the way they'd come.

"J-just leave me!" he wailed. "Go save Lord Sesshoumaru!"

Kagome blinked, strangely touched. Nodding with conviction, she turned and hurriedly continued to make her way through the dense foliage.

---

Her breath caught the second she caught sight of the flowers.

Forget-me-nots littered the area, becoming more frequent the further in she ventured. Soon she practically waded through a sea of blue petals. They hugged trees, peppering logs, the ground beneath her feet, even climbing above to hang from branches. The vast mass of familiar flowers eventually opened out into a huge clearing packed full of them.

And there, at the centre of it all, Kagome finally saw him.

Vines had burst his chest open, putting quivering lungs on full display. To her horror, she witnessed them expanding and deflating with each struggling, wheezing breath. His ribcage had been repurposed for a vase of flowers. Vibrant blue forget-me-nots poked out between his ribs, green stems tightly wrapped around his bones, constricting.

Sesshoumaru's body lay tilted back, face turned upwards to the sky. Glassy eyes were vacant, blood caking his chin. His armour and hankimono lay shattered and torn on the ground. Around him, the stems that had spilt forth from his gut propped up his lifeless form, clearly part of the mass of greenery that had hindered her approach. Kagome covered her mouth, hand shaking. Tears pricked her eyes. Blue veins visibly spread over his flesh, causing her to wonder if the stems had buried beneath his very skin.

This was not Sesshoumaru. It couldn't be.

Choking on nothing, Kagome hurried closer with a thin noise. Reaching his motionless form, her hands hovered uselessly over his decimated chest. She didn't know where to start. How could she even help him?

"Who did this to you?" her voice wobbled. Stinging eyes misted over, running over his body. He looked like a corpse that had been picked clean by crows. His moving lungs moving were the only indication he was even alive.

"Sesshoumaru- I don't know if you can hear me," Kagome tried, reaching out and touching his cheek. It shocked her skin, icy to the touch. "But please- let go of the person who caused this," she said, locating what she assumed was the mating mark upon his shoulder. "No one is worth dying over. You could start over with your mate. Ask them out- anything!" she shuddered, looking at the flowers poking out from his ribs.

"Just don't die! This isn't like you!" Kagome snapped, tears rolling hotly down her cheeks to slide free from her chin. "Fight this! Keep living. T-there's still so much I want to talk to you about."

The tears landed upon pretty blue petals.

Leaning against him slightly, Kagome sobbed. She wondered if she could just reach out and rip the awful things free from inside his chest.

Why Forget-me-nots, anyway? Why not another flower-

The mating mark halted her hand, fingers brushing the stems. It didn't look like an animal bite, nor did it belong to a demon.

Kagome's eyes slowly widened. She had a distinct tooth at the back of her mouth.

The tooth marks looked like a perfect mould of her teeth.

"Was it...me?" she breathed, glancing up at Sesshoumaru's features dazedly. "Those blank spots in my memory. Was I... with you?"

The puzzle pieces slotted into place perfectly. Kagome stared, feeling like a fool for having not noticed. She'd just thought, assumed- he would never look at her like that.

But if the miko cast her memory back and pictured Sesshoumaru's lovely features, his honeyed gaze resting upon her face, half-lidded, lips quirked, face soft and drinking her in- maybe he had been looking at her 'like that' the whole time.

Kagome shook her head, feeling frantic. She latched onto his shoulders.

"I-I'm so sorry. I'm sorry! I never meant for this to happen. Why didn't you bite me? Why didn't you TELL me, you stupid demon!" she snapped, cheeks reddening as a fresh wave of tears stung her eyes. "All that time we spent together goofing off and talking- and you were suffering in silence? You're so stupid, Sesshoumaru!"

His anguished face did not stir. Kagome mindlessly wiped away the dried blood from his chin with shaky fingers.

"There's no taking this back now," she said quietly, glancing at the bite mark. "So... I guess there's only one thing for it."

It sounded terrible, but Shinto was far from her mind as she lay a hand over her mating mark and began concentrating. When resolving to save someone, Kagome became bullheaded. Sesshoumaru was all she could see as her aura rose out from her body, seeping into his bloodstream via the bite marks.

"You need to wake up," she mumbled, using her free hand to adjust the parting of her white kosode. Sliding it off one shoulder to bare her flesh, Kagome remained heedless of the vines growing and curling around them. They seeped into her ebony hair, twining into the long locks like a lover's hands.

Kagome straddled the Daiyoukai, shuddering a little at being so close to his bare bones. She couldn't have sex with him, obviously, but she suspected it wasn't truly needed to complete the bond. Feeding her energy into his body, she bit her bottom lip. Sweat beaded on her brow.

She began to mumble and pray under her breath.

When her spiritual energy had spread through most his system, Kagome grit her teeth and hoped he'd forgive her. Laying one hand atop his rib-cage directly over his heart, she raised her voice.

"Wake up!"

A pulse of reiki shot out through her palm.

Sesshoumaru jerked beneath her. A ghastly, chocking noise escaped him. His head lolled to the side as he looked at her unseeingly, a trickle of blood welling from the corner of his pale mouth. Kagome quickly wrapped an arm around him, guiding his head to her shoulder.

"Bite down, Sesshoumaru," Kagome whispered fiercely into his ear.

Sharp canines brushed her skin, causing a shiver. Wet flecks of blood accompanied it as he coughed. Whimpering with desperation, the miko curled trembling fingers into silver hair. She pressed a kiss against his cheek.

"Please- I want this." She'd do anything to save him. Besides that, a small, buried part of her felt strangely at peace with the action and its meaning. "Bite down!"

A blood-curdling snarl vibrated out from his open chest. Fangs sank deep into her shoulder. At once, dark, dominating youki burst through her system like a shot of adrenaline. Kagome gasped, back arching. It turned her heart into a burning star. Sesshoumaru's presence filled her until she practically burst at the seams. She distantly understood why youkai had sex before biting each other, reeling from it. The orgasm probably softened the intensity. Completion was something the mind could fathom, a release, the pooling of cum inside her.

This felt overwhelming. He was everywhere. His energy burned and licked, igniting and soothing her body like burning whisky.

Kagome felt the pinpricks of fresh tears in her eyes, overcome with a hurricane of emotions she couldn't quite name. She could feel his weakness. His exhaustion. The part of him tethered to her became a lifeline between them, feeding him the energy he'd lost.

Sesshoumaru's mouth peeled back from her flesh. He panted, sinking back. Kagome caught him about the shoulders, cradling him close.

A wave of tiredness sent her sinking down against him, lashes falling shut as dizziness spun her vision.

The last thing she saw before surrendering to the lure of unconsciousness was a canopy of Forget-me-nots surrounding their weary bodies.

----

Drowsy lids slowly cracked open- wincing at the setting sun's harsh orange light peeking out from between the trees. Golden eyes averted and Sesshoumaru stirred with a dusty rumble.

Something heavy lay over his bare chest. He lifted his head.

Kagome rested against his shoulder, dark hair spilling everywhere. Sesshoumaru stared, feeling he must be dreaming. They were laying within a clearing together, which looked clear, quiet and picturesque.

Squinting, he sat up, adjusting the woman against him. Kagome sank against his side, revealing a gaping hole in his flesh, exposing his rib-cage.

Ah, that's right.

The flowers. The vines spilling forth from his chest as blood asphyxiated him, making breathing impossible.

And Kagome...

The miko had come for him. Saved him.

Sesshoumaru ghosted stiff fingers over his mouth, dragging clawed nails down to the fresh bite mark branding his shoulder. He then shifted Kagome, running an aristocratic nose to similar marks adorning her shoulder- a tongue sliding out to drag over bloodied flesh. She tasted wonderful.

Kagome groaned and wrapped her arms around him tighter, burying her face in the juncture between his neck and shoulder.

Closing his eyes, Sesshoumaru held her close and revelled in the sensation. However, he soon picked up on the far off shimmer of his barrier enclosing them within their mini safe space. He could sense Inuyasha waiting outside, along with Jaken.

Deciding to lower it, Sesshoumaru rested his lips against the crown of Kagome's head before drawing himself up to stand unsteadily, lifting her into his arms.

When Inuyasha burst into the clearing, leaves scattering and clinging to his thick white hair, he brandished Tetsusaiga, only to lower it with a raised brow.

Sesshoumaru stood clad in his hakama pants, arching a regal brow in return. He approached the hanyou and passed Kagome over wordlessly, ignoring his noise of surprise at the sight of his ribcage.

"It is healing," the demon dismissed.

"Uh, alright," Inuyasha grunted, supporting Kagome. "Should I even ask what the hell happened?"

Sesshoumaru ignored him in favour of looking at the miko. His shoulder ached, and when he drew back his heel with the intention to leave- a fresh wave of discomfort elicited a wince.

Kagome stirred, blue eyes blinking open. She then drew a hand out towards him, "where are you going?"

"This one is..." he trailed off. "I must..."

"No, you don't," she murmured. Patting Inuyasha's shoulder to prompt him to set her down, Kagome flashed her friend a smile. "Thanks for coming for me, but I need to stay with this impossible guy to make sure he heals alright."

Inuyasha eyed the bite mark on her shoulder, nostrils flaring. "You sure?"

Kagome nodded firmly.

"What do ya want me to tell Shinto if he asks where ya are?"

Guilt passed over her face, and blue eyes flicked away, before finding him again. "Just say I'm visiting another village. I need to tell him the truth myself."

Relenting, Inuyasha stepped away, shooting Sesshoumaru a warning look before reluctantly leaving them be again, feeling like the wind had been thoroughly knocked out of his sails.

The Daiyoukai watched her, stunned.

"It's crazy you're even up and walking around in your condition," Kagome rubbed at her forehead, reaching out and seizing frozen fingers. "Come on, let's find a cave to take shelter in for the night."

----

The demon lord stopped and slid unrelenting attention down to her once they reached the mouth of a cave. "What made you choose this place?"

"I dunno, it wasn't far away and it felt familiar," Kagome hummed, meeting his gaze. "Have we... used it before? In the past?"

Golden eyes cracked wider. "You remember?" he asked in a quiet, brittle tone.

She shook her head, "not at all. I just figured it out. Would've been nice if you'd told me," releasing his hand, she wandered inside, finding a bed of furs awaiting them further in, cracks of sunlight streaming in through holes in the rock ceiling. Her cheeks reddened a little, imagination running wild.

"You really scared me back there," she murmured, back turned to him. "I thought you were going to die."

"That is why you completed the mating," Sesshoumaru uttered. To save him, and for no other reason.

A part of him had hoped she'd remembered, but another had immediately recognised the sacrifice she'd made. Kagome was a selfless individual in the face of danger. If Inuyasha were dying, or any of her other friends, he wondered if she'd mate them if it meant saving their lives.

With a benevolence he did not truly feel, Sesshoumaru forced himself to prioritise her comfort. "If this is not something you wish for- there are ways of severing the bond."

"Stop," she grit out, whirling to face him. Flinty blue eyes took his breath away. "Stop lying all the time. I remember valuing your company and opinion because you were always so blunt with me. You never held back your opinions."

"I am not lying, there is a way to sever it."

"But that's not what you want! Damn it- you nearly died because you couldn't open your mouth! Just be honest for once and tell me how you're feeling, Sesshoumaru. What do YOU want?"

Energy lashed at the air, kicking up a breeze that caused dark hair to fly back. Hands closed over the back of her neck, cradling her skull. Lips were shoved against hers, smothering startled breath.

"You," Sesshoumaru breathed in a brief parting, kissing her fiercely again. His mouth slanted ardently over hers, the hint of a fang brushing her lips. "Is it not obvious I cannot abide anything but having you? Foolish woman, it is for your sake I held back. Once you submit, there is no escaping me."

Kagome gaped, unable to keep up with the sheer amount of heated kisses. Her hands settled over his arms, heat igniting her cheeks. She'd never received a kiss like it before and tentatively returned it. A small gasp and accompanying noise from him only confirmed to her how much he wanted it. She could feel the tension in his frame. He was holding back even now.

When he pulled away, she panted, thumb dragging over magenta cheek stripes. "Didn't that feel so much better than burying everything?" she teased weakly. "Even if I'd rejected you, surely that would've been better than regret- than nearly dying."

Sesshoumaru's gaze slid away. He then released a long sigh, clawed hands curling in her hair. "You seemed happy with the mercenary."

"Ex-mercenary," she corrected out of habit, leaning into his touch. "And I was. I like him. But..." Kagome looked at him. Really looked, and somehow it clicked that his face was the only one she wanted to wake up to in the mornings to follow. When had things gotten to that point? Had she wanted this while lazing on the riverbank with him so long ago? Things would've been so much more simple if she'd identified it sooner. If he'd said something.

How foolish they both were.

Stepping closer, she blushed and tilting her head back in order to ghost her lips over a firm jaw. "I like you more."

Power sparked her insides at the ensuing shudder he gave. "Mating entails more than 'liking' one another, miko. Can you deal with my extended company? Being mine?"

Kagome pretended to consider this. "For how long?"

His lips quirked. "Centuries. Possibly thousands of years."

"That's a long time," her eyes danced. "I guess I'm okay with that if you work on your communication skills."

He inclined his head gravely, dipping his nose into her hair and inhaling a lungful. It felt so good to have clear airways again.

"Sesshoumaru, there is something I want to ask you about; Why didn't you bite me? And what happened during that night I lost my memories?"

"I intended to, miko," he said with dark promise. Displeasure curled his lip. "You managed to bite me during climax. I do not think you understood the ramifications of it at the time. I would have reciprocated nonetheless. Unfortunately, my senses- brilliant as they are- sensed a disturbance in the forest. A herd of boar youkai were bolting towards your precious village."

He could scowl all he wanted about it, but Kagome knew of his attachment to Rin. No doubt they'd both wasted no further time in lovemaking and quickly made for the village.

"We fought them, tried to redirect them. You asked me to save a boy that had fallen during the village's impromptu evacuation. Naturally, I did so- but it meant leaving you alone."

Kagome winced. Her hand found the back of her head, remembering waking to a sizable bump and stitches. "They got me, huh?"

"One struck you down," Sesshoumaru uttered with a weary tone. "I did not know where you were, as we had become separated in the chaos. When I eventually found you... the mercenary was nursing your wounds."

"I remember," she said gently. A stab of sympathy clenched her heart. Stroking a hand down his bicep, she sighed. "That must've been awful, to lose me so soon after almost completing the mating. I didn't realise, didn't recall our relationship. I greeted you so casually and didn't get why you were lingering around in his hut."

"The fault is not yours," Sesshoumaru rested large hands possessively on her hips.

Kagome glanced at him, squinting. "Neither is it yours," she pressed her fingers to his lips when he opened his mouth. "Nope! Not yours. I wouldn't have wanted you to prioritise guarding me that night. If you had, that boy you saved might've lost his life. Besides, I can usually take care of myself. They caught me on a bad day."

The two fell into silence. Sesshoumaru closed his eyes, resting thin lips against the crown of her head while Kagome leaned carefully against him.

"I find it weird that we've had a whole conversation while you have a massive hole in your chest. At least I can't see your whole ribcage like before. Seems like the skin and muscle are repairing," she mumbled.

"It will heal quickly," he dismissed, palms gliding over her back.

Kagome made a soft noise, basking in his warmth. "It's also weird that this feels so natural to me," she lifted her head, catching his eye. "I might not remember us. Ever. So just... promise me you won't search for my past self in me. I've been through that before."

He swept her down into the furs, covering her form with his own. "Hn, we will live in the present."

Heat flushed her cheeks as she sank into the soft, comforting furs. Her heart fluttered, stomach jumping. "Thank you."

A silver curtain of hair blocked out their surroundings as Kagome pulled him closer, both mindful of his injury. She smiled, searching his gaze and slowly delivering a sweet kiss to his lips.

Sesshoumaru let out a long sigh of relief, their foreheads meeting.

"Hey, on the bright side..." Kagome gave him a cheeky grin. "I get to experience my 'first time' with you again."

Astonishment painted his features. A simmering, darkly satisfied look soon replaced it, transforming his face into something more raw and honest. Kagome accepted his anticipation, his hunger, not dissuading him from it. She endeavoured to encourage even more displays of emotion from him.

"You don't need to hold back," she murmured, accepting his searing kiss. "Tell me everything you've wanted to say to me since losing my memory. I don't mind."

Their energies twined once more, and the miko hooked her leg over his hip to anchor him against her without any seductive intentions. She merely wanted him close, and Sesshoumaru did not argue, burying closer to her the second he healed. Skin met skin, noses brushing.

In the hush that followed, Sesshoumaru took his lips to her ear and began talking.

End

[babbushka]

Pirate Kylo and a sinday all in one weekend is very exciting to me! You’re too good to your followers! One more thought for Flip, from your February word prompts. Any or all of these would be wonderful for something with him. Mountain. Cabin. Roses. Kisses. Dancing. Mirror (I’m sure you see where I’m going with that one...)

Lol you already know what’s going to go down when I hear ‘mountain’ and ‘cabin’!

(1.2k, NSFW: masturbation, finger-fucking, PIV, choking, dirty talk, spitting/spit as lube)

He’s not there in bed next to you, when you wake up. It’s a little disorienting waking up to the quiet, you’re so used to his obscene snoring. Where could your husband have gone? You and Flip decided to take a weekend up to the cabin that has been in his family for generation, away to the mountainside for some alone time.

You worry for a second, until you hear the all-too familiar sound of chopping wood just outside, and a smile spreads across your face.

Slipping on just your robe and a pair of slippers, you pad across the creaky wooden floorboards and peek through the window. There, as you had suspected, is Flip, the axe high above his head, and you hold your breath as the swing comes down and splits the log into two. Even though you’ve seen him do it a million times, something about the way he’s so effortlessly strong, capable, does something to you.

You watch him for a while, watch as the muscles in his arms – because even though it’s cold outside, he’s wearing nothing but jeans and a tank top – ripple and flex with each sharp thwack of the axe. He picks up pieces with one huge palm that you would have needed both hands for, places them right where they need to be, and manages to hit the mark every single time.

It’s mesmerizing, watching him, and you soon find that your hand begins to wander down down down through your robe, biting at your lip. You’re naked under there, and though your skin is warm from sleep, your pussy is so hot that your fingers feel cold. Flip raises the axe, and as he does, you drag your fingers up – pushing them back down when he lets the axe chop another log in two.

Your fingers thrust in and out of your pussy, rubbing and teasing at your walls and folds, skimming across your swelling clit as Flip chops wood like the lumberjack he is. A sound from your throat spills out into the crisp morning air, and Flip’s ears catch it even though the window is closed.

He turns to look in the direction of you, eyes sharp, poised and ready to attack, but when he catches the sight of you, with your robe open, fingers buried deep in your cunt, pushed against the window – he’s dropping the axe and taking only a few long strides to get back to the cabin, back to you.

“Well good morning.” His mouth is on you at once, arms winding under your thighs to hoist you up.

Your breath is sleep-sour but neither of you give a shit, not when your pussy is so wet, smearing against his jeans as your legs wrap around his waist. You kiss him, deep and passionate, and he only gets you as far as the little couch by the fireplace before he’s unwrapping you like a gift on Hanukkah night, shoving his big strong fingers up into your cunt expertly.

“Flip – please?” You pant against his mouth, brows pinched in as your mouth drops open from the way he at once fills you up three-fingers full, his thumb pressing and rubbing on your clit, giving it the attention you were waiting for.

“How long were you there? Getting yourself off like this?” His voice is dark, rumbling and deep in his chest from the early hours of morning, and his teeth graze along your throat, sending goosebumps shivering across your body. “Greedy girl, couldn’t wait until I was finished?”

“No, this is your fault for not fucking me awake.” You moan, legs falling open, an invitation and a plea all in one.

Flip smirks at that, unbuckles his jeans and only shimmies them down far enough to pull his cock out. It seeks the wet clutch of your body immediately, the head bumping up against Flip’s knuckles where he’s deep into your cunt, rubbing and thrusting at the spot inside you that makes you melt.

“My fault huh?” Flip clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, pulling his fingers out and immediately sinking his cock in, “Let me fix that for you then, pretty girl.”

At once, he builds up a strong steady pace, body fucking you into the couch cushions. The door is still open, anyone could come by and see, anyone could hear the whorish moans and gasps that are spilling from your lips – except you’re the only two people in the mountains. Flip holds your jaw open with one hand, shoves those fingers into your mouth.

“Be good,” Flip murmurs as he pounds his hips against yours, as you moan and cry, “You wanted it, you can take it.”

You’re still so tight, clenching around him as your body bounces on the couch, as your nipples rub and chafe against the fabric of Flip’s tanktop. You nod as far as he’ll let you, drooling and doing your best to suck on his fingers, wishing it were his cock.

“Uhhhhhhuhhh – oh!” Flip shifts your hips, pushes your legs up higher and you moan out a long shuddering whine as he fucks you deeper, his cock shoved all the way inside.

Thighs trembling, your foot flexes and arches, toes curling, as your body wriggles and writhes on the couch, your robe falling completely open, sash slipping away.

“That’s it,  ketsl, that’s a good girl.” He spits into your mouth, watches as you swallow it, and then kisses the side of your mouth before pulling away only far enough to spit down onto your cunt, watching as his cock pushes it into your body, not that you need it. Your pussy is so wet and throbbing already that the spit gets lost in your slick, but he likes knowing that it’s there.

Your eyes roll back into your head and Flip can feel it when you come, in the full body spasm that wracks through you. Tense tense tense -- loose and pliant, ragdoll-like as your pleasure sings through your limbs. Flip pulls his fingers out of your mouth, kisses you sweetly as he speeds his thrusts up, grunting and groaning as your weak hands shuck up his tanktop and scratch down the hard muscles of his abs.

“Come in me?” You ask so sweetly, and even though Flip didn’t dare to come anywhere else, the permission thrills him, and he groans against your cheek as he thrusts once, twice, three more times, before emptying his load into your wanting cunt.

After a few moments to catch your breath, Flip goes to move away but you lock your ankles around his waist, beaming up at him with a shake of your head. He smiles back down at you, and lets himself collapse on top of you, pushing you into the couch cushions.

“Can’t breathe.” You laugh playfully, shoving at him – accidentally shoving him too hard and making him fall over the side of the couch, taking you with him.

You both land in a sweaty fucked out heap on the floor, laughing out your post-orgasm bliss, and somewhere in the back of your head you can only think that you wish Flip had brought the firewood in with him, because now that you’ve had your fun for the moment, you’re cold as shit.