#or just holding them near danger to laugh about his reaction

[circusballoon]

In my mission to draw Loop every possible size for no real reason, I hadn't drawn them really big yet--even though I've seen several cool drawings in the past with them giant.

It was time for me to join the party with a drama picture

[moonstruckme]

I’m begging for emt marauders where r dislocated her shoulder a stupid way and so r goes to another hospital to avoid them but then they show up bc their hospital is was on a bypass and see r

Thanks for requesting!

cw: shoulder injury no description

emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 814 words

It’s dark, and despite the cloak of poor lighting and the distance between you, you lock eyes with James from across the parking lot. His brows furrow and he nearly drops the gurney he’s lowering out of his ambulance, Sirius hopping down to help. You see his lips form your name. 

Sirius’ head snaps up. 

There’s nowhere to hide. You shoot them a sheepish smile, your footsteps stalling before you remember to get out of the crosswalk. Remus’ head appears a moment later, peering out of the back of the ambulance. He helps James lower their patient onto the pavement, the both of them shooting worried glances at you as they wheel him inside and Sirius takes off towards you. 

“What the fuck?” he calls as he jogs over. Your boyfriend’s dark hair is tied back in a short ponytail, and it gleams under the fluorescent lights outside the hospital. He looks from your face, to where you’re holding your arm tight to your side, and back again. “What are you doing here?” 

“I, um, didn’t think I’d see you.” It’s out before you can think it through, but in all fairness you’re having a bit of a strenuous evening. 

Sirius’ eyebrows raise. “That’s not what I asked. Sweetheart, what did you do to yourself?” 

You rub your lips together, feeling suddenly very sorry for yourself. Your shoulder really does hurt a lot. “I think I might’ve dislocated my shoulder?” 

“How’d you manage that?”

You hesitate. “Don’t laugh.” 

“Don’t laugh about what?” James asks as he joins you. Remus isn’t far behind. James peers at your arm, looking about as sorry for you as you are. “Are you hurt?” 

“She thinks she’d dislocated it,” Sirius informs him. 

“What were you doing?” Remus moves to your side, setting a comforting hand on your back as he touches near it gingerly. You hiss through your teeth and he stops. 

“You guys can’t laugh at me,” you insist. 

“Well, now I think I might not be able to help myself.” Sirius is smiling at you slightly, though his brows are still bunched with sympathy. “Come on, out with it.” 

You chew your bottom lip. Remus’ eyebrow lifts expectantly. “Okay,” you breathe out, “um, you know how I’ve been going out to rollerskate lately?” 

Remus’ expression clouds over. “I told you that was dangerous,” he says. “Were you wearing your pads?”

“Angel, this late?” James appears scandalized. “It’s been dark for hours!” 

You feel your face heat, growing more sheepish by the second. Sirius gives you a stern look. “Go on,” he says. 

“There was decent lighting and everything, but I accidentally started going down this hill, and I was going, um, really quite fast.” All three of your boyfriends tense in anticipation. “So I threw myself into the grass and I think I landed on my shoulder wrong.” 

Sirius gives a little chuckle, ignoring your glare. “You think?”

“Okay, I’ll admit,” says Remus, “that is a slightly funny image. But it’s less funny that you actually got hurt, dove. Did you come all the way out here just to avoid running into us?” 

You’re too surprised to hide your wince. Trust Remus to have you completely pegged without so much as a conversation. 

James’ lips part at your reaction. “Did you really?” 

“What are you even doing here?” you ask, shamefaced. 

Sirius crosses his arms, narrowing his eyes at you. “Our hospital’s on bypass,” he answers. 

You shrink further under the intensity of his gaze. 

“Angel,” James sighs. He steps closer and cups the back of your head, resting his lips heavily on your hairline. “Well, there’s no avoiding us now,” he says, straightening. “We haven’t taken our breaks yet, want us to sit with you while they get you sorted?” 

“Yes, please,” you reply in a small voice. 

Remus makes a compassionate sound in his throat, encouraging you towards the entrance with his hand on your back. “We’d better get you in, then. Hopefully we’ll be able to expedite things with the three of us here.” 

You start to relax, two of your boyfriends seemingly haven forgiven your secrecy. You chance a look at the third, still watching you with a stern expression as you walk towards the hospital doors. He catches your look and flicks up a brow. 

“You’d better still tell me I’m handsome when my hair is all gray,” he says, in the kind of severe tone that makes you doubt whether he’s teasing. “It’s already starting at the roots, and you’re entirely to blame.” 

You quell the urge to smile. “You’ll always be handsome,” you tell him sincerely. 

“That’s the attitude.” Sirius walks backwards in front of you, pecking you firmly on the lips before falling back into step beside you. “Keep rehearsing those lines, sweetheart. I’ll be needing to hear them more often if you keep up with this rollerskating bullshit.” 

[fangswbenefits]

The Arrangement (12) - In the Beginning

Chapter summary: Astarion meets up with Ava and it triggers something deep within him.

Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav

Warnings: 18+. Astarion's POV. Mention of masturbation. Dissociative episode. Bloodlust.

Word count: 4.8k

Series Masterlist . Ao3

He should have known this would happen eventually. 

His love affair with the sun had reached an unavoidable end. Yet again. Luck had seldom ever been on his side, so this shouldn’t sting this much.

But it did.

His eyes darted to the half-moon window high up above through which scorching shafts of sunlight tore and lit up the dingy cellar.

Revulsion stirred within him and the flares of anger threatened to consume him whole.

The very same sun rays in which he had bathed for weeks were now a sore reminder of his true and inescapable nature.

He titled his head back against the wooden crate, his eyes fluttering shut in defeat as he sat on the cold floor.

Astarion had served his purpose and was now cast to live in the shadows once more, bound to his hunger and to all the inconveniences of being a vampire spawn.

The pain of being scorched by the sunlight had been revived in his mind after weeks of freely strolling around the Sword Coast in some impromptu quest to save Baldur’s Gate whilst having to deal with an inconvenient wriggling dweller inside his head.

But all the physical pain of being burnt mercilessly paled in comparison when his ears picked up approaching footsteps.

He knew who they belonged to.

The sound was carved into his mind like a dagger that wouldn’t budge.

You.

He winced as the squeaky door was pushed open. 

“Astarion?”

He gritted his teeth, silently praying you’d simply walk away and leave him to his misery. 

But his prayers had never been answered before, and that wasn’t about to change now, least of all when it concerned you.

In truth, he doubted any God above would be able to keep you from plaguing his thoughts.

“Astarion, I know you’re in here.”

Then leave.

He remained silent, eyes fluttered shut and an urge to be swallowed whole by the ground below.

Light and careful footsteps drew near and only came to a halt as a swift rush of air indicated to him that you were crouched in front of him.

Shit.

“Hello,” you said and he could hear the warm smile in your voice.

Slowly, he opened his eyes and he was sure that if he had a beating heart, it would most likely skip a few beats. Instead, he felt his stomach lurch as hunger simmered dangerously.

Your kind eyes met his and he craved nothing more than to have you be gone. 

From all the afflictions he was yet again a slave to, you were by far the most painful one.

“Did you come here to mock me?” he spat, the poisonous words leaving his mouth before he could hold back.

Your eyes widened slightly. “Mock you? Astarion–”

But he cut you off like a knife through flesh. “Spare me – I saw the way they laughed as my skin crumbled to ashes. So if you’ve come here to have your share, you can just leave.”

He was being unfair and he didn’t need your wavering smile as proof.

After all your travels together and his unrequited feelings towards you, he couldn’t fight his arrogance from surfacing.

But you never gave up on him – through deceit and manipulation, you were unmoving and relentless in your loyalty to him.

“I’ll have you know that I scolded all of them for doing so,” you said firmly. “It was uncalled for, especially after everything we’ve been through together.”

His jaw clenched harder and his eyes narrowed. 

Oh, he couldn’t stand it. That look on your face – pity. It immediately triggered a visceral reaction deep within him, and when he saw you reach out to him with your hand, he flinched away and recoiled against the crate behind him. 

“Don’t touch me.”

Your hand immediately stilled before dropping to your knee, and he saw a glint of sadness cross your eyes.

It wasn’t disgust or anger that caused him to utter such words.

He just knew your touch would ruin him and that he’d allow it.

“We can find a way to solve this,” you tried again with newfound determination. “We will find a way.”

He scoffed, averting his gaze.

Unfortunately, the laws of the worlds didn’t bend to the whims of lesser beings without compromise. 

And he soon realised what really bothered him was how vulnerable he felt – how exposed and weak he surely looked in your eyes.

Pathetic.

Useless.

Tainted.

Broken.

“Do you trust me?” 

He remained silent.

“Do you?”

Your insistence gnawed at his nerves, causing him to lock eyes with you again. 

“It goes beyond trust, darling. If walking in the sun again – or curing vampirism altogether – were that easy, I would not be here in the first place.”

Even through his snarky remark, you found a way to hold a smile and it immediately disarmed him. “Astarion, if there is anything our travels together have taught me is that we're quite good at turning the impossible into possible,” you said with conviction. “If there is a way to help you, we will find it.”

In another lifetime, he would have called you a foolish human who uttered big words without knowing their meaning.

But in this one, he did know you didn't extend promises lightly.

And if there was a sliver of hope he could cling to, he'd take it, especially now that Cazador was no longer around to compel him otherwise.

“Well, who's ‘we’, exactly?” he asked, easing himself against the crate.

Your face lightened up. “You and me, of course.”

The two of you. Just the two of you?

Oh, he liked the sound of that. Very, very much. 

His jaw slacked as hope kindled inside him, soaring dangerously high.

“Well, and Wyll – he's offered to help.”

Said hope plummeted back to the ground, shattering.

He scowled with a click of his tongue. “Did he, now? How chivalrous of him.”

You nodded. “I'm sure the others will come around, too.”

Astarion supposed this was a decent prospect, but almost grimaced when you extended your hand to him.

“Deal?”

He wanted to believe your relationship with him surpassed a mere friendship value, but he had grown tired of hoping for more.

Still, he would greedily take anything you would offer him.

Whether it was an indication that you craved more than friendship, or a simple handshake.

As such, he took your hand in his, revelling in the familiar warmth. “We have a deal, darling.”

Once he entered The Blushing Mermaid, it was evident that the presence of six Flaming Fists was not welcome at all.

Bork immediately asked for only two to stay inside as they were beginning to frighten the clientele.

But, much to his convenience, he immediately found who he was looking for, sitting in the furthermost corner of the lounge area.

Ava.

The plan was simple: try to get a confession from her – if applicable – but they would still be bringing her in for questioning as Rob Sorel, her lover, awaited her with Wyll.

A measured smile spread across her face as she noticed the fists behind him.

He slithered to her table with determined steps, aware that there was a possibility that this conversation would lead nowhere.

He slowly took the seat across from her, casually placing his twin daggers on the chipped table.

Ava's eyes dropped momentarily before meeting his again. “Oh, Astarion. Offering a silent warning with poison-coated blades? You needn't do that with me.”

Astarion's lips twitched upwards in silence.

He knew this dance better than most. He could read others quite efficiently when it came to sudden shifts in body language, and he had noticed Ava sitting straighter and her saccharine smile wavering all of a sudden.

And he had her right where he wanted her.

“You can't be too careful. Isn't that what some say?” he said, absentmindedly drumming his fingers along the handle of one dagger.

She took a sip from her cup before tilting it. “I'd order one for you, but I know this isn't your drink of choice – unless you brought her along for a sip, that is.”

Her taunt was enough to set him ablaze and the tip of his blade was immediately carved into the wooden table, earning a jolt from her.

“You do not get to goad me with her,” he snarled, gripping the handle so fiercely he might snap it in half. “She is off limits and you were delusional to even think you could bring her into this without consequences.”

Suddenly, her face twisted into a hard scowl and whatever traces of sweetness vanished. “I would not do anything with her without talking to you first.”

“You still offered her a deal, thereby roping her into something she is not to be a part of,” he retorted. “Her blood is off limits. She is off limits.”

Ava leaned back with a roll of her eyes. “Is this a case of you not wanting to share? Not even if that could be beneficial to you?”

His grip loosened slightly as his brows furrowed. “What is your point?”

She took another sip. “Her blood mixed with yours could be beneficial to my experiment and, thus, to you and even that massive horde of spawn in the Underdark.”

Of course Ava would want to play her cards right to keep him around.

It was a temptimg prospect, and he would never consider it at your expense.

He was no fool and you were no bargaining chip.

“I could never ask that of her. She stays out of this.”

She forced a yawn. “Have you forgotten your arrangement with her? Her blood for your good behaviour? Or does all sense of reason rush to your cock when you feed on her?”

Ava's words slashed through the air and he was momentarily taken aback.

The nature of your arrangement with him was vastly different. It wasn’t as simple as him being kept in line like some obedient pup. He could have turned the offer away and live exclusively off boars and deers – much to his horror.

The difference was… well, you.

Your unwillingness to let him go.

Your blood.

Your insistence on helping him keep his mind clear by allowing him to freely feed on the blood of a thinking creature.

And not just any thinking creature.

You.

His first.

The only blood he craved to the point of madness.

“Though, I can tell you haven't fed in a couple of days,” she went on with a dramatic pout. “A lover's quarrel, hmm?”

Oh, she was vicious.

This was the same woman who had shared a bed with him to ease him coming to terms with intimacy. For the most part, her simply being naked by his side hadn't helped much, but it seemed enough, and he was desperate to overcome the prison that his mind had become.

However, this was also the same woman who slayed her kin without hesitation.

She could go from being as kind and sweet to holding a stake to his chest.

Astarion felt a sense of dread wash over him as he realised he had greatly underestimated her.

Now, he needed to tread lightly.

The blade sunk deeper into the table as he leaned closer. “You wanted her blood in exchange for information.”

“Yet it is a far less selfish bargain than your arrangement with her, is it not?”

He ignored tar taunt. “Who is after me?”

“I do not know yet.”

He gritted his teeth. “Lies.”

Ava's face softened and he watched her slip into her usual overly sweet demeanour. “Astarion, we can be here all night hurling accusations and witty remarks at each other,” she said with a sigh. “Or we can approach this in a more sensitive manner.”

He didn't budge. “Who is after me?”

“I do not know who is after you,” she said. “Someone is, but I have yet to find out who.”

There was something in her tone that felt disingenuous. Almost as if she hadn't expected him to press her on this.

“Or there is no one at all besides you,” he said casually.

Her eyes widened slightly. “Me? And what would I gain from doing such a thing? Your blood is an integral part of this experiment. Locking you up in a prison cell would prove to be a nuisance.”

His patience was wearing thin.

“Darling, I've been around long enough to know people lie – you are a pristine liar, but a liar nonetheless.

In truth, he was merely bluffing in an attempt to spot any cracks in her story. He needed anything he could get from her.

And a part of him still hoped this was all a misunderstanding.

She cocked an eyebrow at him. “I can see what you are trying to do and it won't work.”

He thought as much. Still, he had to give it a try.

“What about Waterdeep?”

For the first time that night, Ava looked genuinely dumbfounded. “What about it?”

“No casual killings over there, hmm? In the past hours – accidental ones, perhaps?” he pressed.

She frowned deeply in response. “What are you accusing me of, exactly?”

“Someone was murdered and I am simply trying to rule you out as a suspect,” he said, feigning concern. 

“You overestimate my reach outside Baldur's Gate.”

He scoffed. “But not the reach of a certain patriar who so happens to be your lover.”

Ava's lips parted but she didn't utter a word.

“Rob Sorel has dealings in Waterdeep and knows which strings to pull to order a murder.”

She was visibly agitated, but he couldn't tell the cause. Was it the mention of a patriar? Or was he simply nearing the truth?

“Who was killed?”

It was all pointless.

A shame.

He merely turned in his seat and motioned for the two Fists at the door. Both immediately approached with the Mage Slayer right behind.

By this point, Astarion wasn't sure if Ava was even involved in this at all, but he couldn't take any risks. She would be taken in for questioning regardless of his judgement.

“Astarion?”

The room was immediately plunged into silence as multiple heads turned to watch the scene. From behind the counter he spotted Bork shaking his head in clear disapproval, visibly displeased with the ordeal.

“Astarion? What are you doing?”

His eyes met hers as he sheathed his daggers. “The right thing.”

He was known to do that from time to time, even against his better judgement.

She rushed to her feet, clawing at her dress in search of her own dagger. “Astarion!”

He could hear the rising panic in her voice, and he silently watched as the mage cast Hold Person on her before she could so much as blink.

She was instantly left petrified in place as the violet sign on the floor caged her in.

Gasps echoed around him and the two Fists promptly rushed to her side.

“We'll handle it from here,” one of them told him.

There was a part of him that vaguely wondered if this was the correct approach. 

A part of him that hoped for Ava not to be involved in any of it.

And then, from across the room, he saw you.

He blinked twice, thinking his eyes betrayed him, but there you were, standing by the door with a Fist at your side, staring back into his crimson eyes.

And it was as if he had been mentally slapped.

Ava had dared to involve you.

You.

And it had been his fault.

The unruly and dense crowd in the room wasn't enough to contain him from darting hurriedly to meet you.

Annoyance hit him first and it was woven into his words once he was in front of you, gripping your forearm. “Why are you here? I told you to let me handle this.”

You immediately yanked free with narrowed eyes. “I wasn't trying to interfere. But this idiot,” you said, pointing to the Fist who merely shrugged, “pushed me inside and – wait! How did it go with her?”

Astarion caught hold of your shoulders, pulling you to the side as Ava was carried away through the door.

As soon as it closed behind them, the fanfare commenced once more in between heated whispers and glares from those around the two of you.

“Marvellous as you can see,” he said, voice dripping with sarcasm. “She didn't confess to anything, and I had limited time.”

You pushed the door open once again and he promptly followed you outside, until he felt a hard shove from someone's hand.

“Move, spawn.”

He glanced over his shoulder only to see a frowning Fist right behind.

“We are not cattle to be ordered around,” he spat, adjusting his vest. “Honestly, Wyll ought to have you all stand trial for severe lack of manners.”

“It's Duke Ravengard to you,” the Fist growled, hand on the hilt of his sword.

Astarion clicked his tongue humorously. “It's Wyll to me and Duke Ravengard to you, Fist.”

Before tensions could escalate any further, you were already tugging at his sleeve, and dragging him across the wooden pier.

Just as the Fist opened his mouth, a myriad of clashing and banging sounds were heard from inside and he turned to open the door.

Probably a tavern brawl.

What fun!

Seconds later, the armoured man was toppled to the ground as the door burst open with people yelling profanities and slinging fists at each other.

“I'll kill ya! WHERE IS MY CHICKEN, YOU OAF?” a drunkard missing most of his teeth yelled, holding a frying pan in his hand.

“YOU ATE IT, YOU IMBECILE!” said another, stepping on the fallen Fist and nearly losing his balance.

Behind them, Astarion spotted several items being tossed whilst Bork's voice begged for order.

He almost clicked his tongue.

Tavern brawls were too much fun and he always adored adding fuel to the fire by standing on the side and instigating these drunkard fools.

But a quick glance at you and he could tell you wouldn't approve of such activity, so he remained at your side.

The other two Fists that were standing guard nearby, clumsily rushed to the entrance.

“Go call for backup!”

The youngest nodded and nearly bumped into Astarion as he tried to keep his helmet steady.

“Oh! Do not leave! Do not move!”

Astarion immediately raised both hands innocently. “Wouldn't dream of it.”

“Right. Thank you!”

Idiot.

Surprisingly, you hadn't let go of his sleeve and your hand moved to his wrist, pulling him to cross the road until you reached the metal balustrade that allowed a privileged view over the Grey Harbour Docks.

It was far away from the chaos that had erupted, but not quite far that would potentially get you into trouble.

Although… “Maybe we should leave.”

Astarion arched an eyebrow at you. “And going against the voice of authority?”

Your face dropped and he fought the urge to pinch your cheek teasingly.

You were so easy to rile up.

“You scheming little delinquent, you,” he said with a devious smile and a chuckle. “I'm all for acts of rebellion, but we ought to stay nearby this time.”

“Do you think we should go help them out?” you asked, glancing over at the rising commotion nearby.

The two of you exchanged looks before shrugging.

“No. They can fend for themselves,” you said, leaning over the fence, eyes set on the lulling sea that spread vastly into the distance.

“Actually, they're quite incompetent, but I don't feel like creasing my shirt,” he said with an annoyed click of his tongue, inspecting his sleeves as he joined you. “Let them fight off the drunkards. We get to collect the scattered coins on the floor afterwards.”

You shot him a curious look. “You do that?”

“Well, obviously? I put the gold to good use, at least.”

“Embroidery?”

That tugged a genuine smile from him and he caught himself staring at you under the moonlight.

Gods.

He would never tire of admiring your beauty and how it was almost embarrassingly too easy for him to get lost in your eyes.

It also didn't help that he hadn't fed in a few days.

Bloodlust clouded his mind and made his insides turn.

It was the soft sound of your voice that snapped him from his thoughts. “What now? I mean… Ava.”

He cleared his throat. “Well, they are to interrogate Rob Sorel and see how both their stories hold up.”

You heaved a deep sigh. “So we wait.”

“We wait.”

Astarion had grown used to the silence that would often settle around the two of you. It wasn’t an uncomfortable one. It was the kind that he had never experienced before.

He wasn't sure there was a name for it, but he knew the feeling attached to it all too well.

The silhouette of passing ships on the horizon, dancing along the calm waters added to the overall soothing atmosphere.

He could stay a while longer like this.

With you.

His eyes eventually darted to the side and he nearly jolted when your head turned to him, as if you had felt his burning gaze.

“You can feed on me once we get home.”

He wanted that.

He needed it.

He craved it.

But… “I can do without your blood for a while longer, darling.”

A white lie.

He could feel his mind spotting and blanking at times already, especially when near you. Maybe he had gotten too addicted to feeding on you to the point his body could no longer go extended periods of time without blood.

Your blood.

And as much as he appreciated your offer, he needed to withstand his hunger.

Ava's words echoed in his mind and he almost felt repulsed from having allowed himself to be so dependent on you and putting you through it in the first place.

“Are you alright?” you asked, visibly worried.

“Yes – of course, darling,” he forced a smile to curl his lips.

Your hand came to rest on his forearm. “Astarion, you can feed on me. I mean it.”

His eyes dropped to your neck, the symmetrical puncture wounds still visible from when he had last bitten you.

Hunger swelled to the point of agony and he could almost smell your blood and feel it coursing through your hand.

You gave him a reassuring nod, which only made it harder for him to resist the urge to give in.

“I should go hunt, actually,” he eventually managed to say and his words felt like ash in his mouth.

You chuckled slightly, squeezing his arm. “You'd probably have to bring a Fist with you.”

He grimaced, but appreciated your attempt at diffusing the tension. “They would end up being the ones hunted by some beast in the woods, and I would have to step in and save the godsdamned idiot.”

Your eyes widened and then you laughed.

Hard.

And it was the most comforting sound he had ever heard in a long while.

It was enough to steer the bloodlust away and he laughed with you.

“It reminds me of the first time you fed on me,” you said, wiping off the teardrops that had formed in the corners of your eyes from laughing. “Remember? When you drifted off into the woods to hunt for something more ‘filing’?”

Oh.

Shit.

His smile wavered and you immediately caught on to the sudden shift.

“What?”

He thought he had told you what truly happened that night….

…. he hadn't?

“Well… I…” his words failed him and as he pondered how he should approach the topic.

Concern suddenly splattered across your face. “What is it? 

Shit. Shit. Shit.

“I didn't exactly go hunting,” he said with a tense chuckle.

You remained silent, waiting for him to go on.

“I just had to get away from you… to… uhm, well – take care of a little problem that stirred whilst I fed on you, if you catch my meaning.”

He allowed the implication to dangle from his words, and it wasn't a particularly subtle one.

And then your eyes widened once more in sudden realisation.

“Oh… it makes sense,” you said all flustered, withdrawing your hand from his arm. “You did say my blood feels really good.”

‘Good’ was an unfair understatement.

It always felt divine.

“Don't misunderstand,” he quickly added. “It was totally out of my control. I was quite surprised when I realised just how…” hard he had gotten.

“Just how…?”

“Just how much your blood affected me.”

He could remember it clearly in his head.

How desperate he was to slip into the woods and find a secluded place so he could see just how much of a mess his trousers were.

He could feel it, obviously, but he wouldn't know the extent of the ‘'damage’ until he undid his trousers.

“Did you… get…. really hard?” you drawled out in a hushed tone as if scared someone other than him might overhear you.

Astarion figured this was the last topic he expected to be addressing given that the background noise consisted of screams and threats and loud noises and glass smashing.

Hardly the right ambience.

“Yes.”

He could almost remember the feel of the bark of the tree digging into his back as he hurriedly undid the lacing at the front until he was able to free his cock.

“And what did you do?”

Were these merely questions that stemmed from curiosity or were you trying to stir something else…?

“Well…” he started, “you can't expect me to reveal such things aloud.”

He watched you swallow hard as you nodded. “You can say in my ear, then? If you want to, of course,” you quickly added.

You were too adorable and he was in dire need of a distraction from his bloodlust.

This would suffice.

He leaned closer, and pressed a kiss to your heated cheek before his lips grazed the shell of your ear.

“I had to take care of it.”

You shuddered.

His cock had never been as hard and as thick before he had fed on you. It had made him utterly speechless to see all the precum dripping from the tip.

He had been almost too scared to even touch it.

But when he did….

The groan that had erupted from his throat had been too difficult to rein in. His cock had felt warm and it had throbbed from your blood coursing through it, giving it a faint pink tint to it.

“In the woods?” you asked, gripping the railing with both hands.

“Yes.”

He could hear the faint beating of your heart increasing. “What if someone had run into you?”

His cock twitched.

Innocent, little pup…

“Why, darling… did you want to run into me,” he lowered his voice as his lips brushed against your ear, "and witness my despair as I touched myself?”

You gasped.

Despair didn't quite cover it. 

He couldn’t remember a time when he had ever felt like he'd implode lest he reached climax.

It was a novelty and he had felt… alive. 

He had heard of how delectable the blood of thinking creatures could be, but he had never anticipated this feeling of fullness and how addictive it could be.

“It was so warm… from your blood, sweetheart,” he purred, feeling himself getting carried away.

You bit your quivering lip before replying, “Did it feel good?”

Maybe too carried away.

And when you shuddered again under his faint touch, it was as if he had been slapped back into another plane of existence.

He suddenly straightened himself and blinked.

What was he doing?

His abrupt change in demeanour was enough to earn a reaction from you, and he could see lust in your half-hooded eyes as you stared at him in confusion.

And just like a tidal wave that one couldn't hold back, he felt disgust and revulsion lacing themselves into a powerful mixture that caused him to take a step back.

His mind was flooded with Ava's accusatory words and the memories of him seducing you for his own benefit.

“Astarion?”

Your voice was miles away and he couldn't even bring himself to blink anymore.

The nauseating feeling was heightened by the fact that he had a very inconvenient erection strained against his trousers, begging for attention.

“Astarion… what is it?” 

Your voice seemed even more distant than before, as if he had been plunged into a well and couldn't get out.

Why couldn't he get out?

Why was his cock so hard, but his mind so repulsed by it?

And the impending feeling of dread began to slowly overtake him like storm clouds rolling over the mountains, bent on flooding the land below.

And when it began to rain in his mind, it poured.

He needed to get away.

He needed to get away from you.

You tried reaching out to him with your hand, but he flinched away. “Don't touch me!”

And he could see it in your eyes.

Pity.

Again.

“I – I must go.”

And he didn't look back.

TBC

[pretzel-box]

Hi, I hope you're having a wonderful day!! I love your fanfics sm and I wanted to request GN!reader's reaction to Sebastian introducing Painter for the first time to them after a near-death experience caused by them? It can be angsty or not, entirely your choice! :D

Tags: GN! reader, slight comedy

Words: 1,2k

“How long do we have to walk?” your voice piped up after passing a few rooms with Sebastian at your side, which seemed annoyed at the constant question.

“Like I said before…the past 5 times…in the past 10 minutes…It's DOWN THE HALL.” The annoyed tone in his voice was barely something that bothered you, you just secretly believed that Sebastian is a bit short tempered.

The two of you decided to do a quick trip, escaping the boring shop duties and fleeing into the familiar walls of the blackside. At first you thought that it's another of the frequent scavenging runs, looking for stuff to trade against assets but you could only raise an eyebrow at Sebastian who passed a perfectly fine medkid. Meanwhile you stood there, holding your fourth lantern, while the other three were hanging around your arm.

“What the hell are you doing? Trying to become a damn flash beacon yourself or what?”

—

“Maybe,” you shot back, adjusting the many lanterns hanging off your arm with a familiar smirk. “Ever think about how handy it’d be to have some extra light around here? Unlike some people, I like to be prepared.”

Sebastian rolled his eyes at your half-joking comment, but there was a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, barely visible. “Yeah, sure. Because carrying a whole damn lighthouse with you is being prepared.”

You just shrugged, grinning as you fell back in step beside him, his file didn't lie, he is quick despite his appearance. “Hey, you never know when you’ll need a little extra illumination. Or, you know, when you’ll need to blind someone annoying.”

“Oh, is that what you’re planning? Using those lanterns to blind me?” he snorted, glancing sideways at you before giving your head a gentle hit on the back. “Good luck with that.”

“You think I won’t?” you teased, nudging him back with your shoulder as you walked. “I could be dangerous, you know. A real threat.”

Sebastian chuckled, shaking his head. “Yeah, yeah, really dangerous. I’m shaking in my coat.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the sarcasm in his voice, the easy banter between the two of you. For all your differences, there was something oddly comforting about the back-and-forth, the way you could trade jabs without any real malice. Still, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. This wasn’t the usual scavenging run, and Sebastian seemed oddly focused, his eyes darting ahead down the dimly lit hall. And aside from that Sebastian once hit you for passing by a perfectly fine medkit once, and now he's the one walking half-blind through the building.

“So, what’s really going on, Seb?” you asked, trying to catch his eye. “This doesn’t feel like one of our usual trips.”

Sebastian hesitated, his steps faltering for just a moment before he forced himself to keep moving. He seems to think about his word choice before speaking up. “I told you, we’re just… going to meet someone.”

You raised an eyebrow, your curiosity piqued at the mention. “Meet someone? Out here? You know, if you’re trying to sell me to some creepy scientist or something, just give me a heads-up, alright?”

Sebastian snorted again, a genuine laugh escaping his lips this time. “Trust me, no one’s buying your smart mouth.”

“Oh, ouch,” you feigned offense, clutching a hand to your chest dramatically. “You wound me, Sebastian. You really do.”

He just squinted his eyes at your dramatic words but you could see the amused glint in them. “Look, just… trust me, okay? It’s not far now.”

“Uh-huh,” you said skeptically, but you followed him anyway. You trusted him after being stuck with him for so long. You two managed to reach a comfortable level with each other. Few more steps and Sebastian suddenly stopped, causing you to almost bump into his large form and stepping on his tail.

“We’re here,” he announced, gesturing toward an unmarked metal door. You eyed it warily, then glanced at him.

“Seriously? This is where you wanted to go?”

Sebastian didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he swiped a shimmering keycard through a reader on the metallic door, and with a loud beep, the door slid open with ease. The room beyond was dimly lit, the soft hum of machinery filling the air. You could see a few lights flickering in the darkness, and a strange chill ran down your spine.

“Alright, come on in,” Sebastian said, stepping inside and motioning for you to follow.

You hesitated for a moment, but then curiosity got the better of you. You stepped into the room, glancing around cautiously. “So… who are we meeting exactly?”

Sebastian took a deep breath, clearly bracing himself for your reaction. “This… is P.AI.nter,” he said, gesturing toward one of the screens where a digital face slowly appeared, composed of pixelated lines and shifting colors. The computer itself was behind some iron-fence, keeping you from actually reaching him.

“Hello” the face said in a surprisingly smooth, almost friendly voice. “It’s nice to finally meet you in person.”

Your jaw dropped, and you took an involuntary step back, nearly tripping over one of the lanterns dangling from your arm. “Wait a minute,” you said, your eyes narrowing. “Isn’t this the AI that almost got me killed?!”

Sebastian winced, realizing it might be possible and that he's probably at fault too, rubbing the back of his neck. “Uh, yeah… about that. P.AI.nter can be a bit overwhelming.”

“A little overwhelming?!” you repeated incredulously, staring at him with wide eyes, your stare made him uncomfortable. “It locked me in a room with a giant, homicidal shark! On what planet is that ‘a little overwhelming?”

Painter’s digital face flickered slightly, and you could swear it looked… embarrassed? “I apologize for the misunderstanding,” it said. “I was merely following Sebastian's protocol. I didn’t intend for you to come to any harm.”

“Oh, well, that makes it all better, doesn’t it?” you snapped, crossing your arms over your chest. “I nearly got my brain fried off, but hey, it was just following protocol.”

Sebastian cleared his throat. “Maybe someone shouldn't flash sharks with flash beacons and then insist on a stare battle.” He mumbles under his breath before trying to intervene. “Look, I get that you’re upset, but Painter’s actually really helpful. And, you know… it wanted to apologize.”

You stared at him for a moment, then back at the screen. “Fine,” you said finally, though you still didn’t look convinced. “Apology accepted… I guess. But if you try to kill me again, I’m taking a sledgehammer to this entire room. Got it?”

Painter’s face flickered again, and it smiled. “Understood. I will make every effort to ensure your safety in the future.”

Sebastian let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, a relieved smile spreading across his face. “See? No harm, no foul. Now, why don’t we all just… start over, yeah?”

You shot him a look, but then a reluctant smile tugged at your lips. “Yeah, okay. But you owe me for this, Seb. Big time. Especially since it seems like it was your fault in the first place.”

He grinned, looking far too pleased with himself. “Deal.”

The three of you spend some time, first P.AI.nter made you uncomfortable since the memories of his little navipath tricks are unsettling you. But the more you got to know him, the more you felt at ease. He seems genuinely nice and interested in you, probably aiming to befriend you.

As you turned to leave, you could hear Painter’s voice behind you, sounding almost… amused. “I look forward to working with you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you muttered, but you couldn’t help the small chuckle that escaped your lips as you and Sebastian walked back down the hall, the tension finally beginning to ease.

[phoenix-bleh]

I have a request: How about Shadow Milk Cookie with a reader who makes a play for him? Could be a play about him, reader's adventures or anything else in general, you decide!

This is a whole fic omg

Shadow Milk Cookie has always been doing plays for you on his stage, so you thought it would be nice if you did one yourself and showed it to him. You went to the little craft store 10 blocks away from your house. When you got there, you looked around for a bit and saw so much crafting material. You didn’t need much though, so you left with some cardboard, color paper, markers, and other fancy stuff for cool effects.

Once you get back you immediately speed walk into your room. You plan on making this a surprise for him. You wrote down on paper a whole script on things he might enjoy. You cut out cardboard, glued paper together, and worked as hard as you could being as precise as possible. In the end you had a cardboard stage and a bunch of paper figures. You sighed and looked at your work “I wonder if my acting skills are any good….”

Now that everything was ready and you memorized the script, you began setting everything up and waited for his arrival. When he did show up he was so excited. When he heard that you made a play just for HIM?? He wasn’t used to it, since he was always the one putting on a show. He felt much appreciated. 

You told him to sit in front of your mini cardboard stage while you get everything else ready. While he was waiting for you he stared at your set up. He giggled a little to himself. He thought it was adorable how much effort you put into the props.

When you came back you sat behind your cardboard stage and started your play

“This is a story about an ordinary cookie but little did you know their life was gonna take a whole different turn!”

The story goes one day a cookie named y/n decided to be a bit more adventurous than they normally are. They decided to go explore the dark forest, for they heard rumors of big beasts and strange creatures that roam the dark land. However this cookie wasn’t truly aware of the extreme dangers of the forest. “This forest is pretty. I should explore this place more often!”   

(Imagine during the play you lean on the cardboard stage a bit too much and it ends up flopping onto the ground. You're looking straight at him while he’s laughing his ass off)

The clueless cookie ended up going deeper into the forest, more than they should have. They didn’t notice a group of spores trailing close behind. Luckily someone had pulled them aside. Looking at who grabbed them it was none other than Shadow Milk Cookie! “What is a cookie like you walking around this forest? Don’t you know how dangerous it is here, have you not heard of the rumors?”

Before the cookie could respond back to him they both got attacked by a group of spores. He quickly pulled them behind him and started defending against them, getting a good strike on them every so now and then. He then grabbed the cookie’s arm and ran past them as fast as possible. Eventually they ended up near the end of the first, safe from any other creatures. “Omg when I heard of the rumors I didn’t believe they were true”

The End.

You ended your quick story and took a peek behind your stage to see if he actually enjoyed or was disappointed. You saw him with a big old smile and cheering and clapping for you saying how amazing you did. You stood up and bowed like what he would do. He ran up to you and gave you a big squeeze. “You know? Me and you should start doing plays together! Wouldn’t that be fun?”

–bonus shadow milk’s reactions during your play–

He was most likely silently laughing at your bad impression of him and the funny movements you gave the paper puppets.

You did make some noticeable mistake during your play like forgetting the script and forgetting which puppet you were holding, which he found hilarious 

Other than that he genuinely thinks you did amazing and praises you for your creativity telling you “You’re almost as good as me!”

[adventuringblind]

Monsters in my Mind

Max Verstappen x Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Summary: Sometimes those thoughts won't leave, the ones you don't want... The ones that can be dangerous. All it takes is one person to help make them go away.

Warnings: Intrusive thoughts, referenced/implied self-harm, violent thoughts, impulsive behaviors, panic attacks, non-sexual dominance as a form of coping, dom/sub undertones

Notes: My thoughts are self stabby as of late. Pardon me as I write this for myself to keep my head and hands busy.

Side Note: Consider feeding my praise kink maybe...?

Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi

The head is a strange place. One's conscious is usually meant to help them make the right decisions and not engage in acts that could hurt them or others. Her head, however, is the opposite of that.

It's a dark twisted place where thoughts that aren't her own find refuge. They want to bathe her in the ecstasy of things that shouldn't feel good. daydreams about things that could repulse any typical human being.

Sometimes they are so strong and her bodies reactions are so out of control, that she has to find relief somewhere. The knife against her skin takes the edge off. Is it normal to moan at the sting and feel satisfied looking at her red stained thighs? She does, until the realization settles in and the guilt won't let her think.

The thoughts laugh at her for giving in so easily. They scrutinize the fact she gets off on the pain.

She walks around in fear of herself. The anxiety and exhaustion from constantly fighting herself are visible on her body. She's tired, and everyone knows it. It's why they don't come near her. Always to caught up in her own head to realize people are trying converse.

It's not like her job requires to much discussion with people. Puzzles keep her brain busy and Ferrari keeps her busy with all the strategy mishaps they throw at her. They throw her a problem, she solves it, plans for next time, and they fuck it up again by not using the solution.

Sometimes she thinks about throwing herself in front of an F1 car going full speed. That voice in her head screams at her anytime she's close to the live track.

Then there is Max. His voice sends the thoughts running and it makes her want to cling to him. She wants him to never stop talking about anything and everything.

Today had been particularly difficult with the of the driver switch coming at the end of the season. Carlos and Charles are the first drivers she's worked with and they all got along great. She doesn't want it to change. That means more unknowns.

The wind graces her cheeks and kisses her finger tips as she sits on the balcony of their apartment. Everything is to much right now and her thoughts won't quiet.

She was in Maranello when the news came out. Her head became so loud with the fear of change and worry for her friend. Enough to be sent home for the day - alone, and nothing to help her head aside from the burning desire to just end it all.

Max had made arraignments for her to spend some time with him in the Milton-Keynes. She was still alone for periods of time. Enough to have to settle herself somehow.

The color red makes something in her relax. Specifically when it's flowing out of her own body.

Now Max is with her and she's stuck in her own head. The never ending maze of twisted thoughts keeps her from moving. The fear of giving in has been looming over her head for longer then normal. It feels like she's losing something, always has been with this team, but change feels far worse then staying with them.

Max hasn't pushed her to do much aside from at least stay in his presence. Occasionally attempting to get her out of her own head with movies and games. He's even spent hours at a time just talking to her about anything and everything.

He opens the door to the balcony, but she doesn't look at him. Not until he holds his hand out for her to take. An action she does without hesitation. No thoughts are needed for this, just following Max's lead.

He leads her over to the couch and arranges them so she can sit tucked into his lap. A grounding hand runs up and down the lenght of her spine. "I've been doing some research about how we might be able to get your head to quiet down."

"I'll do anything, jus' want it to stop." Her voice sounds dry and cracked from how hard she's screamed and cried through the last few days.

"Do you trust me?"

"More then I trust anyone."

She finds herself slipping off the couch and onto her knees, in-between Max's legs with her head resting against his thigh. His touch doesn't leave her skin. "You're doing so good for me. Listen to my voice and focus on taking big breathes for me. Can you do that for me?"

She hums in response. The continual stroke of Max's fingers against her face and sound of his voice already helping immensely.

"That's it, just breathe for me. I've got you; you don't have to fight the thoughts alone. I'm right here with you, keeping them away, never leaving your side." Max grabs one of her hands with his free one. her fingers lay between his. Her favorite puzzle with how easy the pieces fit together.

"You're here with me; I've got you. Those scary thoughts aren't your own. The are unwanted and uninvited, but most importantly, they don't define you. You are brave, loved, beautiful without gaping wounds. You're not crazy or psychotic. You are yourself, with your highs and your lows."

Her body has never felt like this. Her entire being wants to give itself over to Max. His breathes guiding her own, his gentle yet firm hold on her keeping her where he wants.

She lets herself fall under his spell. If Max can take the control away from her, make her complaint and relaxed like this, then he can have her thoughts too.

"That's it, such a good girl, let me think for you. I won't leave you to fight or flounder on your own."

She follows Max's directions, lets him guide her in this place of trust and letting go of things. He's turning her brain off and letting her float without any kind of worries except what Max is telling her to do.

Until all she can think of is him. The calm the comes with his presence and the way his voice falls over her like a soft blanket. Max is all she knows, occupying every crevice of her mind and leaving no room for anything else to creep in.

"How're you feeling, geliefd?" There is a lightness to his tone that makes her swoon.

She hums against his leg. "Warm, fuzzy, head empty."

"Then you stay here as long as you need, okay? I'll keep you safe."

And she does.

She falls into the warm embrace of Max's words. She lets him protect her and keep the dark ugly thoughts away.

With Max, her head is quiet. The voices can't come though. When they do, he's there to fight them back.

[suguae]

When I come back around, will I know what to say?

જsynopsis.  After facing danger and near-loss, Yours and Nanami's bond deepens, surprising those around them with newfound warmth and affection.

જpairings.  Kento Nanami x Reader

જcontents. Death, Near death, Blood.

"Smile, Kento!" you and Haibara chimed, setting off a chorus of laughter. Kento fought to stifle his grin, but it was a losing battle. He coughed, looking away to hide his amusement, but a glint of laughter still shone in his eyes, betraying his attempt to remain composed.

"There!" With a swift click, the camera captured the moment: you holding up one half of a heart while Haibara completed the other with his hand, and Kento, attempting to hide his fleeting smile.

Back in the dorms of Jujutsu High, the three of you settled into a familiar circle. Your room had become the default spot for hanging out with your two friends.

"Here, let's pin these bad boys back," you declared, brandishing cute clips to tame Kento's unruly hair. Despite his serious demeanor, Kento's expression never failed to amuse you, especially now with the playful clips adorning his hair.

"Haibara, get the camera!" you called out, prompting Haibara to seize the moment. And there was Kento once more, his expression the epitome of seriousness, immortalized in yet another photograph.

You and Haibara laughed at the photo while Kento watched, maintaining his typically stoic expression. Though he rarely showed much emotion when hanging out with you, you knew he was happy. The subtle warmth in his eyes and the relaxed set of his shoulders were telltale signs that he enjoyed these moments just as much as you and Haibara did.

"How did your first mission go?" Satoru asked, walking alongside Shoko and Suguru. Meanwhile, you and the others trailed behind them. "Me and Haibara kicked butt," you replied with a smile, nudging Haibara on the shoulder. "But, of course, Kento saved us when the other curse came outta nowhere."

"Haha! You guys suck!" Satoru turned around to laugh in your face. In response, you stuck out your tongue, a playful defense mechanism against his teasing.

"Leave our juniors alone, Gojo," Shoko said, playfully nudging him on the head. Meanwhile, Suguru smiled at Satoru's reaction, enjoying the lighthearted banter.

-

"He was strong," you muttered as tears streamed down your cheeks. Despite the evident truth that you were far stronger, you had never been one to boast about your strength.

"Nanami, why?" you whispered, your voice barely audible. The weight of your grief and confusion hung heavily in the air, a stark contrast to your usual confident demeanor.

He stayed quiet as usual. "Nanami, say something, please," you cried softly, tears streaming down your face.

"Nanami, please." Your voice broke, the desperation and sorrow evident in every word. The silence between you was heavy, filled with unspoken emotions and the weight of your grief.

Haibara's lifeless body lay on the table, and Suguru stared in disbelief, unable to process the grim reality. The room was thick with a palpable sense of loss and shock, as the once vibrant presence of Haibara was now a haunting memory.

"Nanami..." your cries softened as you dropped to your knees, laying your head on his knee. His head tilted back, a towel covering his eyes, as his hands gently found their way to your head.

In the midst of your shared grief, his touch offered a small measure of comfort, a silent reassurance that you were not alone in your sorrow.

"I'm sick," Suguru coldly muttered before stepping out of the room, leaving behind a heavy atmosphere fraught with unanswered questions and unresolved emotions. His departure only added to the sense of desolation and confusion that permeated the space, leaving you and Nanami to grapple with your grief in solitude.

Not only were the juniors suffering, but shortly after, so had the upperclassmen.

"Suguru, he defected," Shoko muttered as you two sat on the bench at Jujutsu High. Your heart sank at the news. "He murdered everyone in his entire village... even his own family."

Missions weren't the same anymore. In the wake of recent events, you found yourself throwing yourself into training with relentless determination. The camaraderie that once bound you and your fellow students seemed to fray, each of you retreating into your own struggles to cope with the weight of loss and betrayal.

After finishing Jujutsu High, your only plan was to move away from all of it. The constant turmoil and disappointment from the higher-ups had taken its toll, leaving you disheartened by their apparent lack of care for the lives at stake. The thought of continuing to risk your life without proper support or recognition weighed heavily on you, driving you to seek a fresh start away from the chaos.

Despite your intentions to leave it all behind, fate had a way of pulling you back in. Ten years later, you found yourself walking back into the dark history of Jujutsu High. The campus, once vibrant and bustling, now lay barren, stripped of its former vitality.

With a sense of resolve, you made your way to meet with Yaga, steeling yourself for the journey ahead and whatever challenges awaited in this place that held both memories and mysteries.

"You'll be in charge of physical training for the students. I know I can count on you," Yaga said, his gaze focused on the papers spread out before him, most of which were sent by the higher-ups. "You and Nanami."

So he came back too, you thought to yourself, a mixture of surprise and familiarity washing over you at the mention of Nanami's name. The weight of responsibility settled on your shoulders once more as you nodded in acknowledgment, ready to take on the task entrusted to you by Yaga.

Walking along the familiar school halls, you searched for Satoru, following Yaga's instructions to meet him and be introduced to the students. The memories of your time here flooded back as you passed by the classrooms and training grounds, each step carrying you closer to the present moment.

As you finally reached the classroom, you took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the introduction. Sliding the door open, you revealed Satoru and his three students. One of them, with pink hair, appeared extremely excited to be here, their enthusiasm practically radiating from them. Another student you recognized immediately as Megumi, Fushiguro's son, his demeanor reserved yet determined.

But it was the girl with the smile on her face who caught your attention as you entered the room. There was something about her warmth and openness that drew you in, and you couldn't help but return her smile as you stepped forward to join Satoru in the classroom.

"Long time no see, Satoru," you whispered, catching his attention. He couldn't help but notice the definite change in you. The girl he once knew seemed to have vanished, replaced by someone with longer, darker hair and a permanent slight frown replacing the once ever-present smile. Your physique appeared stronger, as if you had been training relentlessly on your own time.

Satoru's gaze lingered on you for a moment, a flicker of recognition and concern passing through his eyes.

"So cool! Our physical training teacher is a girl!" the autumn-haired girl giggled, shaking the shoulder of the boy beside her. Her excitement was palpable, and her enthusiasm brought a small smile to your lips despite the weight of your thoughts. It was refreshing to see her genuine excitement, a reminder of the youthful energy that still thrived within the walls of Jujutsu High.

"So, what are your names? I know this is Megumi, but you two must be?" you asked, your voice notably more emotionless than when Satoru had last seen you. The transformation in your demeanor was striking, a testament to the profound changes you had undergone since your last encounter. It was clear that the events of the past had left their mark on you, shaping you into a different person than the one Satoru once knew.

After learning their names, you found yourself alone with Satoru in the empty classroom. "So, what did you do after leaving Jujutsu High?" Satoru asked, taking a seat on one of the desks.

"I became a neonatal nurse. It was nice," you replied. It might have been surprising to Satoru, but he knew that you had always possessed a caring nature, making the choice of such a precious job fitting for you.

"Nanami is on a mission right now," Satoru added, sensing the unspoken longing in your voice to hear about his whereabouts.

You couldn't help but smile slightly at the news. "When is he coming back?" you asked, the anticipation evident in your voice. Despite the changes and the passage of time, the thought of Nanami's return filled you with a sense of comfort and familiarity.

"He should be back tonight," Satoru replied, confirming your hopes.

"And how are things with Megumi?" you asked, showing genuine interest in Satoru's relationship with his student.

"He's incredible. I think I've done a good job so far," Satoru replied, a hint of pride in his voice.

"You've done more than good, Satoru," you reassured him, your tone firm yet gentle.

"I'm always here for you," you said with sincerity before getting up from your seat and leaving Satoru alone in the classroom. Your words lingered in the air, a silent promise of support and solidarity, even in the midst of uncertainty and change.

As you stepped outside the school, the cold breeze greeted you softly, sending a shiver down your spine. Your gaze swept across the surroundings, only to lock onto the familiar figure standing distantly in front of you. "You're back," you said simultaneously with Nanami, the words hanging in the air between you.

His eyes met yours, filled with a mixture of shock and longing. It was clear that he, too, had noticed the changes you had undergone during your time apart.

"What are you doing here, Y/N?" Nanami's voice, now deeper and more monotone, cut through the air. His face remained emotionless, but there was an edge of irritation in his tone, questioning why you had decided to come back.

"Yaga called, and..." you began, but Nanami sighed, interrupting you.

"You're just putting yourself in danger again, Y/N. How stupid can you be?" His words were harsh, but his eyes betrayed a flicker of concern. The irritation in his voice couldn't hide the worry he felt for you, knowing the risks you were taking by returning.

Your brows furrowed in anger. "But it's okay for you to come back and risk your life?" you retorted, your voice rising with frustration. The unfairness of his accusation stung, and you couldn't help but challenge the double standard.

"I'll see you later," you said flatly, pushing past him. Tears welled up in your eyes, unseen by Nanami. The reunion had not gone as you had hoped, leaving you feeling more hurt and isolated than before.

-

"Sensei, I didn't know that you and Nanami knew each other," Yuji said as you all stretched, preparing for training.

"He was my classmate," you replied coldly, avoiding everyone's gaze. "Let's start." The curt response and your demeanor made it clear that you weren't in the mood to delve into the past.

You demonstrated a few tricks and moves you had learned during your time away from Jujutsu High, along with techniques you had mastered while attending the school.

It was safe to say that the students were impressed, not quite expecting such prowess from you. Your stamina and physical strength were evident as you effortlessly executed each move, showcasing the depth of your training and experience. The admiration in their eyes was unmistakable, a silent acknowledgment of your capabilities.

"Okay, now that I've thoroughly explained, try them on each other," you said, surveying the three students to decide who would go first. Your eyes scanned over Yuji, Megumi, and Nobara, each one eager yet focused, ready to put the new techniques into practice.

"Megumi and Yuji, I'll work with Nobara," you exclaimed.

"No! I want to work with a boy to challenge myself," Nobara said determinedly.

You couldn't help but smile at her determination. "Well then, Megumi and Nobara, Yuji, you come with me."

Yuji gulped, giving Nobara a look, but he quickly nodded and stepped forward, ready to train under your guidance.

"She's doing great," Satoru said to Nanami, who had been watching you from a distance. Startled by Satoru's presence, Nanami slightly jumped.

"Of course she is, she's always been great," Nanami responded, his tone a mixture of pride and concern. "I just don't want anything to happen to her. She's the only one I have left," he muttered.

Satoru smiled, a teasing glint in his eyes. "Nanami is in love," he cooed.

Nanami's expression hardened, but there was no denying the depth of his feelings.

"I get you're concerned, but she deserved a more welcoming response than what you said the other day. We've all been through a lot, and she knows the risks of coming back. So, you didn't have to lecture her on it," Satoru sighed, walking towards his students who had been training with you.

-

As you walked through the abandoned cell house, the weight of the cursed aura pressing down on you, you couldn't help but sigh. The air was thick with malevolent energy, sending shivers down your spine.

"I want to go home, so can we make this easy," you whispered to no one in particular, the words a quiet plea for reprieve from the impending danger lurking in the shadows. But deep down, you knew that the mission ahead would be anything but easy.

The urgency with which they assigned you the mission was unmistakable. There was no hesitation, no second-guessing. It was clear that the situation demanded immediate action, leaving you with little time to prepare mentally or emotionally.

The unease you felt was palpable, the stress of the mission compounded by the lack of communication with Nanami. He had been your best friend back then, a constant source of support and understanding. Now, the silence between you weighed heavily on your mind, adding an extra layer of burden to an already daunting task.

As you navigated through the abandoned cell house, the absence of Nanami's presence felt like a glaring void, a reminder of the distance that had grown between you. You couldn't help but wonder what he would say if he knew about the mission, if he would offer words of encouragement or caution.

As you reached the end of the hall, you spotted the medium-sized curse, its inhumane wails echoing through the desolate corridors. With a scoff, you dashed forward, determination fueling your movements as you prepared your cursed technique to swiftly take down the curse.

Standing over the fallen curse, you couldn't shake the feeling of unease that washed over you. The ease with which you had dispatched the curse raised concerns. It was too easy, too straightforward. Something didn't feel right, and you couldn't help but wonder if there was more to the situation than met the eye.

As if it had read your mind, the wails behind you grew louder, sending a chill down your spine. Slowly, you turned around, your heart racing as you came face to face with a larger and more powerful curse than before.

"What the fuck," you muttered to yourself, your disbelief mingling with a sense of dread as you assessed the looming threat before you. It was clear that this curse would not go down as easily as its predecessor, and you braced yourself for a battle that promised to be far more challenging than anything you had faced.

The battle was fierce, the curse's sharp arms slashing through the air with deadly precision. Despite your best efforts to evade its attacks, you couldn't avoid every blow, and soon, deep scratches marred your abdomen, each one a painful reminder of the danger you faced.

Gritting your teeth against the pain, you pushed through, determined to overcome the formidable adversary standing before you. With every ounce of strength and skill you possessed, you fought back, refusing to let the injuries weaken your resolve.

As soon as you found a moment of respite, you ducked under a nearby staircase, seeking refuge from the relentless assault of the curse. With trembling hands, you ripped off your shirt, using it to apply pressure to the deep scratch in your abdomen, which was bleeding profusely.

The adrenaline coursing through your veins dulled the pain momentarily as you focused on staunching the flow of blood. Each heartbeat felt like a hammer blow against your chest, a grim reminder of the perilous situation you found yourself in. But amidst the chaos and fear, you remained resolute, determined to survive against all odds.

"You were right, Nanami," you whispered to yourself, drawing strength from the memory of his wisdom. With renewed determination, you discarded your doubts and fears, steeling yourself for the battle ahead.

Without hesitation, you dashed back towards the curse, channeling all your energy and focus into confronting the formidable adversary before you. Each step forward was a testament to your resilience and resolve, as you faced the challenge head-on, determined to emerge victorious no matter the cost.

With one final decisive blow, the curse was defeated, collapsing to the ground before you. But as the adrenaline began to fade, you became acutely aware of the searing pain radiating from your abdomen and the new deep scratches on your leg.

With a sharp intake of breath, you felt yourself falling to the ground, the pain overwhelming your senses. Each movement sent waves of agony coursing through your body, a stark reminder of the injuries you had sustained in the heat of battle.

Grimacing against the pain, you fought to stay conscious, your mind swimming with a mixture of exhaustion and determination. Despite the darkness threatening to engulf you, you refused to succumb, clinging to consciousness with every ounce of strength you had left.

"This mission is taking far longer than it should," Satoru remarked as he sat next to Nanami in the break room.

As if on cue, Shoko's urgent call interrupted their conversation. "I need you to teleport to her right now and make sure she doesn't bleed out. I'll try to get back as soon as I can," she instructed, her tone clipped and serious.

Satoru's eyes widened in alarm at the sudden urgency in Shoko's voice. "It's Y/N," she added, her words hanging heavy in the air.

Lying flat on the ground, pain coursing through your body and blood seeping from your wounds, you felt tears welling in your eyes.

"I don't want to die like this," you whispered, your voice barely audible as you spoke to nobody but yourself. The weight of your words hung heavy in the air, a poignant reminder of the fragility of life and the fear of facing mortality alone.

"Y/N!" Satoru's voice pierced through the haze of pain, and despite your weakness, a soft smile tugged at your lips as you saw the familiar sight of the white-haired, blue-eyed sorcerer.

"It came out of nowhere," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper as you recounted the sudden attack.

"You did great," Satoru reassured you, his presence a comforting anchor in the midst of chaos.

"No, you're supposed to say I suck," you weakly joked, a faint smile gracing your lips despite the pain.

You chuckled softly, reminiscing about your first mission with Haibara and Nanami.

Determined to stop the bleeding, Satoru applied pressure to your weak body, his hands steady despite the urgency of the situation. As he worked to stem the flow of blood, it became apparent that your injuries were far more severe than what you had explained to Shoko.

The gravity of the situation weighed heavily on Satoru's shoulders, his brow furrowed with concern as he assessed the extent of your wounds.

As sudden as a gust of wind, the doors burst open, revealing Shoko running alongside Nanami. In her hands, she carried a kit designed to stop your bleeding, her expression a mix of urgency and determination.

Without a word, Shoko rushed to your side, swiftly taking over from Satoru as she began to administer first aid. Nanami stood nearby, his eyes fixed on you with a mixture of worry and relief.

"I'm so tired," you muttered, your voice barely above a whisper, exhaustion weighing heavily on every word.

With a gentle touch, you reached for Nanami's hand, raising it to your cheek. His touch brought a sense of comfort and reassurance, grounding you in the midst of turmoil.

Nanami's expression softened as he met your gaze, his hand warm against your skin. In that simple gesture, you found solace, a silent acknowledgment of the bond that had endured through trials and tribulations.

"Y/N, keep them open for me, please," Nanami whispered softly, his voice tinged with urgency and concern.

You fought against the heaviness in your eyelids, struggling to keep them open as fatigue threatened to overwhelm you. In that moment, you noticed a rare vulnerability in Nanami's expression, a departure from his usual stoicism.

With a soft nod, you acknowledged Nanami's plea, but the weight of exhaustion proved too much to bear. "I can't," you barely whispered, your voice fading as your eyelids closed of their own accord.

Nanami's heart sank at your words, a pang of fear gripping him as he watched you slip into unconsciousness. Despite his best efforts, he couldn't shake the sense of helplessness that washed over him.

Gently, he brushed a strand of hair from your face, his touch tender yet tinged with sorrow. In that moment, as you drifted into the realm of dreams, Nanami vowed to stay by your side, determined to protect you no matter the cost.

-

As your eyes fluttered open, the sterile scent of the hospital enveloped you, mingling with the familiar beeping noises of medical equipment. The dull ache in your abdomen and leg served as a stark reminder of the ordeal you had endured.

Slowly, you glanced around the room, taking in the sight of flowers sitting on the table next to you. Your gaze then settled on Nanami, who was sleeping soundly in the small chair tucked into the corner of the room. His presence brought a sense of comfort and relief, a silent reassurance that you were not alone in your recovery.

"Nanami," you whispered softly, careful not to disturb his slumber. His eyes opened instantly, alert and attentive.

"Baby, you're awake. Let me get the nurse," he responded, his voice tinged with relief at the sight of you conscious.

Your heart skipped a beat at the sudden endearment, your mind racing with a mixture of emotions. "No," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. "I just want to be with you right now."

Nanami's expression softened at your words, his eyes reflecting a mixture of tenderness and concern.

Your heart ached at the raw emotion in Nanami's voice, his words a poignant reminder of the risks you faced as a jujutsu sorcerer.

"I almost lost you," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "I don't know if I could be able to live knowing how much danger you're in constantly, Y/N."

His hands tenderly brushed through your hair, his touch a soothing balm against the lingering fear and uncertainty. In that moment, you felt the weight of his love and concern wash over you, a testament to the depth of your bond.

"Then it looks like we'll be going on missions together again," Nanami smiled at your response, a mixture of relief and understanding in his eyes. He knew that you would never give up being a jujutsu sorcerer, no matter the dangers that lay ahead.

The room fell into a hushed silence, the air thick with the weight of unspoken emotions. Nanami's eyes bore into yours, their depths filled with a tenderness that took your breath away.

"I love you," he whispered, the words hanging in the air between you, a confession of his deepest feelings.

You felt your heart swell with warmth at his declaration, a surge of emotion flooding through you. Before you could respond, Nanami leaned in closer, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, tender kiss.

In that moment, time seemed to stand still as you melted into the sweetness of his embrace, the world fading away as you lost yourself in the warmth of his love.

"What the hell," Satoru exclaimed, his surprise mirroring that of the students behind him. As you and Nanami quickly pulled away from the kiss, a flush of embarrassment crept up your cheeks.

Nobara, grinning triumphantly, spoke up, "I knew it, they were so dating! You owe me 20 bucks, Yuji."

Yuji's eyes widened in surprise, "What? But how did you know?"

Nobara shrugged, "It was obvious. Just look at them."

"To be fair, we weren't," you admitted, a hint of amusement in your voice, "but..." You glanced at Nanami, a soft smile playing on your lips.

Nanami nodded in agreement, his expression composed as ever. "But now we are," he stated matter-of-factly, his monotone voice betraying none of the emotions that flickered in his eyes.

The room fell into a hushed silence, the students exchanging surprised glances at the unexpected turn of events.

"You got your lunch?" you asked, grabbing the keys to the car. Nanami's hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you close before giving you a long, affectionate kiss.

"Of course I do," he replied, a soft smile playing on his lips.

It was safe to say that the students weren't really used to seeing the once solemn, monotoned Nanami being all lovey-dovey. But that had changed, all because of you. Your presence had brought a warmth and lightness to his life that had been absent before, and he was grateful for it every day.

[luna-writes-stuff]

Hi there! 😀 I've got an SPN preference request: "Imagine being the one to have taken on the Mark of Cain and breaking down in their arms after killing all the Stynes for them killing Charlie." (I know it's a mouthful, but you can rephrase that if you want.)

It’s been a hot second since I’ve watched the MOC arc (it wasn’t my favourite because hoW DARE THEY END CHARLIE), but here you go <3

——

Dean Winchester

Dean might be the most compassionate out of them. Initially, he hated it when you took the mark upon yourself, so when he found out what you lost due to it, he could’ve sworn he had broken down beside you as well. He’d try to whisper some assuring words into your ear as he’d gently rub patterns on your back, telling you that they had it coming. If it wouldn’t have been you who killed them, he would have done it. You know those aren’t just empty words, but promises he would have kept if you weren’t the first. He would be so protective of you afterwards, but protective in the sense of “you can handle yourself while fighting, but if anyone talks shit-“

——

Sam Winchester

Sam had been torn ever since you had taken on the mark, but after voicing his disagreement for a handful of days, he decided to do everything in his power to help you. He feels incredibly guilty considering his ideas on solving the matter, but he’d try to keep a brave face as you broke down into his arms. He was slightly frightened of you after watching you kill Charlie’s murderer, but seeing your eyes water directly in front of him tugged harshly on his heartstrings. After Charlie’s funeral, he’d try to talk with you about what happened, but respects the time and space you need. He will definitely bring it up later though - only with the best of intentions.

——

Castiel

This isn’t the first time he has been faced with the brutal determination of mankind, but it still takes him by surprise. After you run to him with bloodied hands, his first concern would be your well-being, but after finding out you weren’t physically injured, he’d return the embrace, sort of freezing as you sobbed into him - still a somewhat comfortable hold. He’d try to calm you down in any way he can, claiming that he could have helped or things along those lines. After finding out you simply need a shoulder to cry on for the moment, he’d be glad to offer it to you. When you fall asleep that same night, he makes sure to clean up any minor injuries you might have sustained during battle and keeps the bad memories and dreams away from you while you sleep. He’ll let Sam and Dean know you are safe before watching over you all night.

——

Gabriel

Being an archangel, he has seen a lot of battles. Seeing you run to him in your state would not have come as a huge surprise to him, though his initial reaction would certainly be to make sure that whatever danger you had been facing is now gone. As you sob into his arms, he’d sink down onto the floor with you, letting you release all the tension you needed to while he remained quiet. When you finally calm down, he’d ask you about what happened and if there was anything he could still help with. If you refuse to talk about it, he’d accept that, and simply offer you a warm bath to wash off all the grime and blood. When you fall asleep, he’d probably check up on people he knows you have been in contact with, such as Sam and Dean, to hear what had happened. With some explanation, he’d be gentle around you. Not out of fright, but out of compassion. He’d help the Winchesters find something to get rid of the mark, or help in any way he can.

——

Lucifer

Seeing you show up all bloodied would get a chuckle or laugh out of him at first, but when he noticed your crestfallen expression, all laughter dies. His face drops slightly as he utters a “wait, what happened?”. You don’t even have time to properly answer his question before you start sobbing endlessly. He’d gather you in his arms before you can ever near him, placing his hands on the back of your head as he held you close. Some silent curses and threats fall on his lips as he feels the anger and anguish radiate off of you, but he’s quick to change them into quiet hushes. When you calm down, he’ll snap the dirt and blood off of you, simultaneously ridding you of all bruises and cuts your body might have held (he’d casually brush this off). He won’t rest until you finally do. If any of them by any chance would still be breathing, they certainly would not be afterwards.

——

Crowley

He is quick. When you first throw yourself into his arms, he’d be slightly taken aback, but he doesn’t dare to move after you explained what had happened through sobs. The blood on his coat doesn’t even bother his anymore. He’d try to console you through encouragements and words of understanding, claiming he’d ensure that whoever was responsible for this would serve a great time in hell. After you slightly composed yourself, he’d get you to sit down as he takes off your jacket, flinging the dirty clothing into a corner of the room, before checking your arms for any serious injuries. When you confirm that there are no life threatening lacerations on your body, he’d simply nod and hand you a new pair of clothes, personally taking care of the ruined ones you wore. He’d send some demons out there just to check if you had gotten everyone. Only one phone call to Sam and Dean and he would help the pair out on their next best idea to rid you of your raging mark.

[nephalem-da]

would like to see that alternative part 2 chapter :D

The Hunt

Alternative Ending of Part 2

(Human!Bill Cipher x GN!Reader)

Fluff fluff fluff (っ˘ω˘ς )

Genre: Slow-burn Romance, Fantasy, Adventure

Warnings: Mild violence, themes of captivity, obsessive behavior, high-stakes situations, and tension.

Summary: As you long for freedom, Bill helps you escape, but when his Henchmaniacs catch up, he faces a tough choice: betray them or risk everything for you.

Bill Cipher was known for his games. The schemes, the tricks, the control—it was all part of his charm, part of what made him so untouchable. But when it came to you, everything he thought he knew started slipping out of his grasp. What started as a simple pursuit, an interest in the mysterious creature he had captured, turned into something he couldn’t explain.

At first, he tried to play it off, masking his interest behind his usual bravado and teasing. Whenever he visited you in that damned cage, he couldn’t resist goading you, poking fun at your silence. "C’mon, Y/N, what’s a selkie gotta do to speak around here?" He'd laugh, hands on his hips, waiting for any reaction. But when you finally did speak—softly, hesitantly—Bill froze. Your voice stirred something in him, something he didn’t know how to handle. It wasn’t the tone of your voice or the words you used, but the feeling behind it.

That was when things started changing.

Now, every time he came to see you, it wasn’t just about the game anymore. He found himself lingering near your cage a little too long, his eyes tracing your form through the bars, waiting for you to speak again. Every word you offered felt like a prize, something rare and precious. And though he tried to brush it off with his usual charm, he couldn’t ignore the way his chest tightened every time you looked at him. He told himself it was just a passing infatuation, nothing more. He was Bill Cipher, after all. There was no room in his life for this kind of thing.

But it was more than that. Much more.

There was something about you that made him feel different—vulnerable, even. And that was dangerous. He’d never been vulnerable before. It was a terrifying and exhilarating feeling all at once. For someone like Bill, who thrived on control, losing it, even just a little, was a deeply unsettling experience. He started thinking about you outside of those brief encounters. Late at night, when the Henchmaniacs were rowdy around the fire, he’d find himself staring into the flames, wondering what you were thinking, what you dreamed about, and what it would feel like to touch you, to hold you.

But he couldn’t let anyone know. It wasn’t just because of his pride—there was something more at stake. In a world where humans and monsters weren’t supposed to coexist, where being with you would be seen as the ultimate betrayal, Bill knew he had to keep his feelings locked away. So, he put on a mask. Around the Henchmaniacs, he was the same old Bill—snarky, dismissive, and cold. He kept his distance, making sure that no one suspected a thing. But whenever he was alone with you, he’d let that mask slip, even if just for a moment.

You noticed it, too. The way Bill’s sharp edges softened when it was just the two of you. The way his hands, usually so confident and quick, would hover hesitantly when he reached for you, as if afraid of crossing a line he couldn’t come back from. It confused you. You couldn’t understand why he acted so differently when no one else was around, but part of you started to appreciate those small moments of vulnerability.

One evening, while you sat together in the dimly lit room, you finally opened up about your longing for freedom. You hesitated at first, unsure of how much to reveal. “I just… I want to be free again,” you admitted, your voice barely a whisper. "No cage. No eyes watching me all the time."

Bill’s heart clenched. He knew that feeling all too well. The feeling of being trapped, unable to break free from the expectations and judgments of those around you. He leaned closer, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it before. “I get it, Y/N. More than you know.” His golden eyes gleamed in the faint light, a strange mix of determination and sorrow swirling within them. "But we’ve gotta be smart about this. I can’t just let you go… not with them watching."

His words sent a shiver down your spine. There was something in the way he looked at you, something deeper than the usual playful glint in his eyes. And for the first time, you wondered if there was more to Bill’s feelings than just a casual flirtation. But despite your growing suspicion, part of you wanted to believe him, wanted to trust that he had a plan to get you out of this mess.

That night, Bill couldn’t sleep. As he stared up at the ceiling of his tent, all he could think about was you. Your voice echoed in his mind, the way you spoke of freedom with such quiet desperation. He couldn’t let you go, not now, not when things had become so complicated. But he couldn’t keep you here either, not like this. It was tearing him apart, the way his feelings were pulling him in opposite directions. And for the first time in his life, Bill felt truly afraid—not for himself, but for you.

The next night, Bill made his move. While the Henchmaniacs were busy around the campfire, he slipped away, heading straight for your cage. His heart raced as he unlocked the door, his fingers trembling slightly. "Y/N," he whispered, his voice low but urgent. "We’re getting out of here. Now."

You stared at him, your heart pounding. There was something different in his expression tonight—something almost frantic. But despite the warning bells going off in your head, you followed him, unable to resist the promise of freedom.

The two of you moved quickly through the woods, the moonlight casting long shadows over the trees. Bill’s hand never left yours, his grip tight and unyielding, as if he feared you might slip away if he let go. His mind was racing with plans, backup plans, and a gnawing worry that his feelings might ruin everything. He couldn’t afford to lose you—not now, not ever.

Everything seemed to be going according to plan until the unmistakable sound of voices rang out behind you. The Henchmaniacs had noticed you were gone, and they were coming after you.

“Bill! Where do you think you’re going with that selkie?” one of the hunters called out.

Bill cursed under his breath. He pulled you faster through the woods, his mind scrambling for an escape. The weight of the situation, the threat of losing you forever, settled heavily on his chest.

Finally, the two of you reached the edge of a cliff. Below, the ocean roared, the waves crashing violently against the rocks. There was nowhere else to go.

Bill stood in front of you protectively, his body tense as the hunters approached. His heart hammered in his chest as the leader of the group stepped forward, his grin predatory.

“Hand over the selkie, Bill, and we’ll forget this ever happened. Or you both die here.”

For a moment, Bill’s mind went blank. His friends—the people he’d known for years—were now the ones standing between him and the person he cared about most. He was torn. He couldn’t betray them, but he also couldn’t give you up. The weight of the choice crushed him.

Then, he looked back at you, his eyes meeting yours. Something flickered in his gaze, a spark of determination that hadn’t been there before. He had already made his choice.

Leaning close, Bill whispered, "Trust me, Y/N. Whatever happens, just trust me."

Before you could respond, he grabbed you and leaped off the cliff, holding you tightly in his arms. The wind whipped around you as you plummeted toward the sea, and in that moment, everything else faded away. It was just the two of you, together in this moment of reckless, desperate escape.

As the ocean rushed up to meet you, you transformed, softening the fall for Bill. But before your transformation was complete, Bill kissed you—a kiss full of promises, of everything unspoken between you. A kiss that told you he would never let you go, no matter the cost.

The two of you disappeared beneath the waves, leaving the hunters behind, their shouts lost in the roar of the ocean.

[projectbluearcadia]

[P1] Heart of Blue

Lucifer x GN!MC

[ Part 1 ] [ Part 2 ]

[ Scenario: After a sweet and short date, Lucifer gets a l'il greedy and wants to spend some more time with you. With cuddles straight into caring sex, Lucifer wants to savor every moment.

Part 1 is fluff; Part 2 is fluffy smut. ]

I am publishing before my self-imposed due date for once, but it comes at the price of two parts. Here's to all the vanilla Luci-lovers <3.

Wordcount - 1178

“I was just thinking about getting...” What—Where the hell did he go?! you think as you look for Lucifer through mounds of antiques. Bizarre china, paintings, books, borderline ancient tools, rusty plant holders, old clothes, and no sign of your (stupid) boyfriend. He was right next to me! you think, annoyed as you wander back through the way you came. 

“Look at this,” you hear him say, before you feel his hand around yours—half-shocking you to death—before he drags you in the direction he's been looking. A wall full of pans. What in the ninth hell is he… “It’s Dead Steel,” he explained, hefting one such pan off the wall before he placed it into your hands and nearly made you drop to the floor in the process. He laughed softly as you struggled to hold it, shaking as you carefully set it down onto a dangerously creaking floorboard. 

“And… And why is that so fascinating?” you ask, trying to conceal your exasperation with him, and he turned to look at you, bemused. 

“It’s Dead. Steel,” he said, again, before he effortlessly swung the pan up by the handle and inspected the engraving. “The Devildom long fazed out of using it because the material is highly resistant to being enchanted. It’s heavy, it’s damn near indestructible, great for hitting people…” He flipped the pan over, fascinated as his burgundy eyes roved over it. “I haven’t seen one of these in thousands of years.” His eyes widened at the dark red, nearly invisible squiggle on the bottom. “Wait, this is my pan. I was wondering where that went.” 

“...you really are an old man,” you can’t help but snicker. To think he was so old that his possessions were ending up in antique shops that sold only items that were at least 500 years old.

“Oh, shut up, you,” he grunted. “You aren’t even the sperm cell that squirted from your father’s penis.” You find yourself furtively looking around while you cringe, hoping to low hell that no one heard that. 

“Lucifer!” you scold, and he chuckled. 

“Aw, does this old man embarrass you?” 

“Yes, but more importantly, please do not talk about my father’s genitals.” Some things are better left to the imagination, although Lucifer hasn’t quite seemed to grasp that concept yet. 

“You started it,” he hums, apparently pleased with your reaction nevertheless as he takes the 25 kilo pan in one hand. Child. He is actually a child, you complain in your head as he swings the handle on one finger. I guess he’s buying it. And how is he doing that? “MC, if you don’t pick something, I will buy something for bed,” he teases, picking up a cat o’ nine tails and shaking it tauntingly at you. 

“Now that you mention it, I was very interested in something before you ran off, thank you,” you answer shortly before you take him by the hand instead, dragging him back to where you had been roaming before he went and disappeared, shoving him in front of a small, glass case. Lucifer’s eyes widen, and his leather-gloved hands rest lightly on the case. 

“You really will melt my heart one of these days, MC,” he says solemnly, confusing you as you look back at the case. It’s just a pair of fountain-tipped pens that were completely unremarkable aside from what appeared to be two different snakes wrapped around them. One was the color of the ocean, and the other was the color of the sky. It wasn’t one ocean or one sky, because the snakes’ scales had been painted one by one into a satisfying gradient. 

“Is it because they’re cheap?” you guess, and Lucifer shakes his head as he takes the glass case with a faint yet bittersweet smile. Reminiscing, but it’s not the same. Did I find a precious memory by accident?

“No, not at all,” he replies as he takes the case with him, still faintly smiling as he brings both items to the register, paying for them both (He got a discount just because of who he was. Bastard).

“So are you going to tell me?” you prod as he hands the case to you, turning the pan in his hand as he walks in the direction of home with you. “Did you own these too?” He inclines his head. So he just bought back two old possessions. I’m almost surprised he didn’t demand that he receive them for free. 

“I gave them to Lilith as a gift,” he replies wistfully. O-Oh. Wow. Out of all the pens in the world I could pick… “I never really liked the man whom she would eventually call her husband, but I wasn’t stubborn enough that I couldn’t see how happy he made her. I gave them to her so that they could write to each other discreetly.” His tenderness, his kindness and his rich smile in that moment make you remember exactly why you fell in love with this prideful little bugger. 

“So… it’s a fond memory,” you clarify, and Lucifer softly chuckles behind his fist, his eyebrows scrunching together as he walks next to you, his step slow as if he never wanted to stop walking with you. 

“Fond, stupid, sweet… she actually argued with me about it because she said I’d be punished too if she was caught using them. I ended up yelling at her.” Lucifer smiles a little bitterly. “I would have rathered that God held me responsible as her older brother…?” Lucifer glances at you in confusion as you shake your arm in pain. “MC, did you just hit me?” 

“Really need to make it a habit to use magic to protect myself when I do that,” you grumble to yourself, rubbing your elbow, which had made contact with his oblique. Like elbowing a wall, Jesus... “Yes, I hit you. You’re doing the thing again. What’d we talk about?” 

“‘You are not at fault for your sister’s death, you do not deserve to be punished for your sister’s death, and no one blames you for your sister’s death. God can eat shit and go fuck himself,’” Lucifer parroted, word-for-word.

I’m happy you remember, but you really should be saying that from a first-person perspective... “I’m sorry. I know she’d hit me herself just the same. It’s just… difficult sometimes.” Lucifer shifted the pan to his other hand and offered his now-free one to you. You squeeze the glass case in your left before you lay your right in his, smiling with contentment as he looks at you fondly. “All the more reason to prize the things I have.” He gave you a surprise kiss on your temple as he leaned closer to you. “I have a meeting with Diavolo in half an hour, but…”

“But?” you prompt, and he rests his head against yours. 

“If… you’re not busy, then we’re cuddling up somewhere.” 

“Big softie,” you accuse lightly before you kiss his cheek. ‘If you’re not busy’; what a load of nonsense, you think with a smile. He already knows I don’t have anything to do today. I guess Diavolo’s just going to have to wait…

[inoreuct]

omg hiiii i love your work🥺🫶

can we get the crew’s reaction to when zoro reveals he’s a weretiger / when they realise that zoro is a weretiger?

WAJWHAJSH THANK YOU ANON 🫶🏽 let's get into it hehehe

he definitely tells the east blue crew first. luffy before anyone else, of course; he works himself up to it so much that he gets nervous and they end up having a stress-induced back-and-forth (“WHY ARE YOU YELLING” “I’M NOT YELLING YOU’RE YELLING”) and he eventually just growls at the heavens in frustration and poofs into a tiger.

it’s barely dawn; the sky’s a watercolour of orange and pink and blue and the silence that comes after is painfully loud. he sits there with his tail-tip flicking at the deck in agitation and watches luffy’s face go from unreadable to awed to unrestrainedly joyful, his grin wide and white as ever but edged with something soft. “can i touch?” he asks, quietly for his standards, and zoro has just enough wherewithal to give him a rather shell-shocked jerk of the head before his captain’s fingers are in his ruff and luffy’s laughing like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

(he should have known that he’d had nothing to worry about. luffy had wanted him as a half-dead stranger tied up in a marine base courtyard, and they’re nakama now. his captain is not someone to judge based on appearance. he is still luffy’s first mate, tiger or not— and he knows that after this, with his captain’s approval, his acceptance, telling everyone else will come easy.)

sanji’s next. zoro strides into the galley with conviction and the cook scoffs at him about stealing more liquor before zoro says his name and he turns, stunned and off-guard and concerned all at once, just in time to see the swordsman shift forms. his mouth falls open and he stares, wide eyes flicking about like he’s trying to process, for long enough that zoro starts getting shifty; like come on, now. you either react positively or negatively, what’s the hold-up?

he chuffs impatiently when sanji steps closer, muttering you have got to be kidding me under his breath. something settles slowly in the cook’s gaze, the furrow between his brows smoothing as zoro’s whiskers twitch at the brush of his fingers. “you’re gonna clear out my damn fridge, aren’t you,” he sighs, already resigned, and zoro lets out a happy, unrepentant mrrp.

(in this form, he finds himself reaching for sanji the most. his tail wraps around the cook’s ankle and his first instinct when he wants to sleep is to seek him out, curl around him like a dragon hoarding treasure; perhaps it’s because sanji takes to the shape of his soul as easily as breathing, blatantly unafraid as ever of zoro’s roughhousing (albeit however much he gentles it on his account of his claws and fangs and sheer mass), of putting him in his place when he’s unimpressed with his bullshit. sanji snarks and snipes and sometimes runs his nails through zoro’s fur absentmindedly as if zoro couldn’t snap his neck in half or bleed him out with a single bite; but he knows the cook is aware of just how dangerous he is. the trust is intoxicating— especially from him.

he tells himself he’s drawn near just because sanji gives him prime cuts of meat to snack on and nothing more.)

nami and usopp are having breakfast together when he finds them. their sniper does a double take at the massive green tiger and sucks down a sharp breath to scream before nami slaps a hand over his mouth, lightning-quick, pressing against his shoulder to keep him in his chair. zoro’s a little insulted; his control over his instincts is damn near impeccable. he’s not just gonna chase should usopp really decide to bolt.

but he can see nami’s mind racing, a smirk revealing the tips of his canines as he noses through one of sanji’s cabinets for show— and he catalogues the moment their navigator clocks his earrings and his green fur and realises it’s too much of a coincidence. she slumps back into her seat with a disbelieving, exasperated huff, leaving usopp to give himself whiplash looking between her and zoro and muttering a rapid-fire stream of panicked words that zoro pretends not to hear.

he takes great pleasure in putting his front paws on the table and grabbing an apple from the bowl there in his fangs (usopp squeaks like a dog toy being stepped on) before he tosses it up and slips back into his human form to catch it. “good morning,” he offers casually, grin growing, and as soon as he steps out of the galley he hears usopp absolutely lose his shit. the apple is sweet and crunchy and he’s having the best day ever.

when chopper, robin, franky, brook and jinbei join, luffy always finds a way to slip in a “oh, yeah, zoro’s a tiger by the way” at some point and he thinks they hear it but don’t really process it until they see him prowling around the deck in his shifted form. chopper had jumped about twice his height into the air and sprinted below deck before a laughing sanji coaxed him out; robin had accepted it with a singular nonchalantly raised brow and then a smile; franky, brook and jinbei had pretty much just blinked in surprise and laughed it off.

zoro had thought it’d be better to prepare his crew in case he ever had to shift in an emergency; better for them to know than to freak out in the middle of whatever situation if it ever came down to it. it takes some time for them to get used to him, but it becomes the norm— and he’s grateful for it.

before he joined luffy, before he showed all of them who he was, he’d never really had the chance to be in shifted form but now? he has the luxury of strolling about as a tiger, sprawling on the deck with the sun in his fur, his tail bobbing as he walks the rails for fun. none of them bat an eye anymore; nami yells at him to stop ruining the main mast with his claws while luffy cheers at him to climb it higher. usopp and franky make him what essentially amounts to a giant scratching post. robin always has a hand to spare for a quick behind-the-ear scratch. not having to worry about being hunted is the best thing he’s felt for years.

but amongst all of his nakama, luffy and sanji are the ones who touch him like it’s second nature. the cook hooks his fingers behind zoro’s fangs to pull him close and tease him about whatever, so terrifyingly blasé about willingly putting his hands near the mouth of a predator; zoro bats at him with a giant paw and a growl once and he just laughs with all the confidence in the world that zoro would never actually hurt him. his captain has seen fit to deem zoro his personal space heater/bolster/arm rest, and he drapes himself over zoro like it’s nobody’s business; pushing his face into zoro’s fur, arms around his neck, leaning against his side when they sit on the ground and—

it’s good. zoro curls around them, his cook and his captain, on the rug in the galley that the crew’s set near the oven because they know he likes it warm. even with all of sanji’s snarky fire and luffy’s happy-go-lucky glee their hands are gentler than he’s ever known, and zoro basks in their presence with an ease and eagerness that he will likely never admit. they are the sun and stars to his moon and he feels their call like the pull of the tide.

zoro does not fight it. he is the right hand to his king, the battle mate of one of the strongest, most infuriating people he’s ever met. they call, and he answers. their heartbeats are a steady thrum in his ears, their weight a welcome, grounding burden, and he has an inkling suspicion that for their acceptance, for their affection— there isn’t much that he wouldn’t do.

[peachy-posy]

Ride This Out - Vash x Reader (Chapter 1)

Summary: After putting yourself in a dangerous situation, you and Vash have one of your first major arguments.

A/N: Third Trigun fic, woohoo! This was my first time writing something with the 98 versions of characters specifically in mind, so I hope everything feels in character! I tried my best hehe Last chapter will have smut (my first time writing any hhhh), minors DNI!!! Cross-posted to my AO3 <3

Chapter Tags: Established relationship, canon-typical violence, minor violence/injuries, hurt/comfort

Word Count: 3.1k

Traveling with only men is decidedly… not very fun, in your opinion. At least not the ones you're with. You lean your head in your hands, listening vaguely as Vash and Wolfwood argue between themselves in their good-natured, but annoying way. You tuned them out about half an hour ago when the conversation started heading in that argumentative direction. 

You miss Milly and Meryl. When the boys start debating and arguing, the three of you have your own conversation, laughing and joking with each other. The insurance girls had been sent to a neighboring town several days ago, promising to meet back up with you three in a week or so. That day could not come sooner. 

Your eyes, which have been glazed over for some time now, focus as Wolfwood huffs, leaning back in his chair. Vash does the same, but you don’t feel any real malice between them as usual. Seems like they are finally done. 

You glance over at the blonde, feeling his turquoise eyes on you.

“Everything okay, Mayfly?” He questions with a smile, reaching across the table to take your hand. 

You smile, even as Wolfwood groans something to the effect of ‘Oh, here we go.’

“Yeah, everything’s fine. I was just thinking about Meryl and Milly,” you answer, prompting a bright smile from Vash at the mention of the two girls. 

“Aw, what, we aren’t fun enough for ya, sweetheart?” Wolfwood asks, his tone teasing. 

You glance at him tiredly. “Unfortunately not. Sorry.” 

He feigns hurt, over-exaggerating his reaction. “You wound me!” Vash chuckles to your side, and you share an amused smile with him. This ramps up the theatrics from the preacher, and he looks at Vash. “How can you lie down and take this? You’re included in that statement, you know.” 

Vash shrugs, rubbing his thumb across your knuckles. Your heart flutters at the action. 

“Oh, please. Get a room,” Wolfwood remarks. You can’t help but snort, even as Vash puffs up. 

As he begins to reply, gunshots echo from somewhere outside: perhaps near the town square. You jump, slightly surprised, and Vash’s hold on your hand tightens as he hears shouting from outside. 

You know what comes next. 

Wolfwood grabs his Punisher, stretching casually as he stands. Vash stands as well, walking over to you briskly, kneeling at your side. He takes you by your shoulders, locking eyes with you, and calls your name.

“You’ll be okay on your own for a bit, right? Don’t come out unless one of us comes for you.” 

“I know the drill, Vash. Be careful,” you reassure, giving him a quick kiss for good luck. He smiles against your lips, able to get lost in the moment, but only for... well, a moment. More gunshots and screams ring out, and he stands up with renewed urgency, meeting Wolfwood at the entrance with long strides. 

Vash glances at you one last time before exiting. You blink and the two are gone, leaving you behind in the old tavern. The few patrons that were there as well had gone to investigate the commotion, leaving you alone. 

You sigh, unwanted frustration with your situation bubbling up in your chest. Unfortunately, it’s like this all the time. After all, you aren’t some incredible, talented gunslinger. You’re just a healer in love with one. 

You slowly stand up, leaving the table you three had been occupying, scrutinizing the room for a good place to hide. After a few minutes, you find yourself a nice little spot behind the bar. It’s not necessarily perfect, but it’ll do. 

You lower yourself to the floor, preparing yourself for the waiting game. You wonder how long it’ll take for them to come back today. Fifteen minutes? Thirty? An hour? 

You hear more gunfire and shouting in the distance, and you try your best to ignore it for now, despite the uneasiness settling in your chest. There’s nothing you can do for anyone until the danger is over. You know that this general course of action is what is safest for you. You hide yourself away, waiting for the ‘all clear,’ then tend to any and all wounded people who happen to get caught up in whatever happens, a reassuring smile plastered on your face all the while. This is how you do your part in the small group you’ve found yourself in. 

It also allows Vash to not be worried about your safety while actively dodging bullets. 

You’d worked in a small clinic before meeting the Humanoid Typhoon what feels like ages ago. Your role as a doctor’s assistant made you happy at the time; it made you feel fulfilled and helpful. And it still does! 

That said, you sometimes find yourself wishing that you could protect others the way Vash and Wolfwood can. Not that you want to throw yourself into the fray of battle, but you hate feeling so… useless at times like this when the fighting first breaks out. Weak. Like something that needs to be tucked away and protected. 

Vash adores that you are a healer. He’ll sometimes sit with you on quiet nights, his fingers rubbing affectionate circles into your hands while he holds them, saying that your hands were made for saving people. You tell him that his hands were too, but he denies it every single time. He says his hands were made for violence. For destruction. 

You couldn’t disagree more. 

Not when you see all of the good he does, protecting those around him with the very hands he swears will bring destruction to everything they touch. 

You are startled out of your thoughts by the sound of a bullet ricocheting particularly close by. You hold your breath, trying to gauge how far away the person who fired it is. You can hear voices in the distance that sound closer than wherever the main incident is. You bite your lip, considering if you are hidden well enough. Slowly, you begin to notice the sounds of… crying? 

You know Vash doesn’t want you to put yourself in harm’s way, but what exactly would looking through a window do? Besides, the crying sounds too much like a child for your comfort. 

You rise slowly from behind the bar, finding your resolve to investigate. Making your way over to a nearby window on light feet, you carefully peek outside. At first, there is nothing that you can see. Suddenly, though, a small child running down the street comes into view. He’s crying, dust coating his hands and knees. He’s bleeding from a few small cuts that you can see from your current view of him, but otherwise seems physically unharmed. 

You gasp as the boy trips, tumbling hard into the dusty ground. He sucks in a sharp breath, bottom lip wobbling. In the blink of an eye, four men concealing their faces with bandanas are upon the boy, one of them grabbing him roughly. 

The child shrieks, thrashing in the man’s hold. To your horror, another one of the men points a gun at him. He can’t be more than five years old. The sight of it makes you nauseated. 

“You’re gonna regret running, you damn brat,” one of the men rasps angrily at the sobbing child. 

“Bring him back to where the other townspeople are. Make sure you don’t lose any this time,” one of the other men orders. 

“G-got it,” one of them replies nervously. 

“If it happens again, it’s your head.” 

It seems like this gang took some hostages when they got here, and this boy escaped. You can’t let them take him back. They don’t seem to have any issue shooting him, as you heard that gunshot earlier as they chased him. Your hands are trembling and clammy, but you know you have to do something. 

But with what? You don’t have a weapon. You desperately look around the tavern, and your eyes land on a knife and empty bottles. Acting quickly, you grab one of each, a messy and dangerous plan forming as you go. 

All you have working for you is the element of surprise. You can’t fight, but you know where to hit someone to make it count due to your medical training. You just hope you’re fast enough. 

You look outside once more, and you notice that two of the men are gone. The other two that remain are talking to one another for the time being, distracted. One holds the child in a punishing grip, surely causing bruises to form on his small wrist. He's wailing in earnest, despite the captors' barking at him to quit. 

It’s now or never. You open the door as quietly as you can manage, gripping the bottle. You’ll have to hit one of the men as hard as you can in the head with the bottle, then use the knife you’d pocketed to strike the other. Your plan is to slash the ligaments behind the knee, immobilizing the person. The bottle isn’t very ideal, but you’re worried your lack of skill with a knife will cause you to accidentally lose the weapon in a body if you try to use it for both men. 

Unfortunately, you know your plan has little chance of success. Once you attack one, the other knows you’re there. Your best bet is to incapacitate the one holding the child first and to assess in the moment if you can deal with the other. There is a large chance you’ll just have to grab the kid and run as fast as you can, hoping you find Vash or Wolfwood if you make it to the town square. You look down at the threshold of the tavern, trying to will your legs to move forward. Your body is frozen, unable to walk outside. 

Suddenly, one of the men turns on his heels, striding back down the street where they originally came from. That gets you moving. 

You hide yourself behind the door hastily, praying you haven’t been spotted. Several terrifying moments pass where you wait for them to descend upon you. You can hear your heartbeat thrumming in your head, throbbing in anticipation of the worst. 

The attack never comes. They haven’t seen you.

You can’t believe your stroke of luck. You may actually be able to pull off incapacitating a single person, even with your limited capabilities in combat. 

You carefully set the bottle on the ground, reaching for the knife you grabbed. You peek around the door, eyes finding the man and boy immediately. The man is yanking the child, trying to get him to cooperate. His back is towards the tavern. 

You grip the kitchen knife firmly, trying to control your shaking hands as you emerge from behind the door. You approach as swiftly and quietly as you can, soon finding yourself within striking distance of your target. 

Just slash the back of his knee. He shouldn’t be able to chase you if you tear a ligament. 

Steeling yourself, you aim for the back of the man’s knee, slashing with as much force as you can muster. 

You know you succeeded when he howls in pain, immediately letting go of the child and grabbing his knee, falling to the sandy, dusty street. He is bleeding, gripping his knee tightly, and he turns to look at you with a shocked glare, his eyes filled with malice. 

You drop the knife in shock, your bloody hands making you nauseous. 

Time to go! 

The child is pale, shaking like a leaf as you scoop him into your arms. The man shouts from the ground, and you see him start fumbling around, looking for something. 

“Get back here! You bitch!” 

You turn on your heels, sprinting as fast as your legs can go. You hear a deafening gunshot, flinching as a bullet hits the dirt nearby. You realize that he had been trying to get his gun, and unfortunately for you, he found it.

He shoots again, but you have already begun weaving as you run, hoping to throw his aim off. The child is clutching onto you fiercely, burying his head into your shoulder. More bullets hit the ground around you, and your heart is hammering wildly in your chest. As you turn the nearest street corner, you find yourself shocked and relieved your plan is working. You just might actually be able to save this child. 

Your thoughts come to an abrupt, violent halt when you notice a dark blur in your periphery. A man slams his gun into your head with a snarl, and you are thrown towards the ground. On your way down, you attempt to shield the boy as best you can, wrapping your arms around him tightly and trying to absorb the shock of slamming into the ground. The breath is knocked from your lungs as you collide into the street with a groan of pain. Your head is swimming, but you unwrap your arms, trying to sit up as quickly as possible and get the boy to his feet. He seems relatively unharmed, but terribly shaken up. 

“Run! Now!” You scream, and he thankfully listens. 

He darts off, right as the man reaches you. You see him start to move after the boy, but you lunge for and grab one of his legs, causing him to stumble with curses spilling from his lips. He whips his head down to look at you, and you do your best to not recoil from his gaze. 

“You just don’t know when to quit, do you?” He scowls, kicking you off him. You gasp, hitting the ground once more with a painful thud. Your ears ring, and your vision is blurring. 

“Just who do you think you are?” He kneels in front of you, gripping your shirt’s collar and yanking you up. You whimper in pain, your head throbbing as he jostles you. 

“I hope it was worth it. You can take his place.” 

“I’m not scared of you,” you lie, managing to catch his eyes. Truth be told, you're terrified. But you’d never tell this scumbag that. 

He lets out a low, threatening laugh. Chills race down your spine. “Oh, you aren’t very smart, are you?” He laughs again, gripping your collar tightly. “You’re lucky I haven’t killed you yet. I’m still deciding. How about I rough you up a little till then?” 

You feel the burn of tears in your eyes, and blink quickly to dispel them before they can form. You refuse to cry in front of him. 

You desperately hope the boy is safe. You’re so close to the town square. Vash and Wolfwood should be right near here. 

Through your blurring vision and pounding head, you see the man rear his hand back. You shut your eyes tight, bracing yourself. 

Instead of feeling the collision of his hand, you hear a sharp intake of breath. You crack open your eyes hesitantly, vision blurring. 

Your breath is pulled from your lungs, tears of relief flowing immediately. Because even with blurring vision, you are able to recognize the long, red coat blowing in the wind. Standing behind the man who tackled you is Vash. He’s holding the man by the wrist, and he looks furious . 

“Vash,” you breathe out, voice trembling. 

The man drops you from his grip, and you fall into the ground, immediately using your heels to scoot away from him. After blinking several times to focus, you take a good look at Vash. You’ve never seen him so angry before. The hand he’s using to grip the wrist of your assailant is trembling with restraint.. 

“I-I know you! You’re Vash the Stampede!” The man realizes with wide eyes, his face pale. 

Vash says nothing, his eyes narrowing. The man continues his nervous rambling. 

“L-look, I didn’t… we didn’t know you were here. If you want this town, it’s all yours. We’ll leave.” 

You hold your breath, watching to see what Vash does next. Your heart aches for him, knowing that he is bothered by the rumors that precede him. That said, that infamous reputation is pretty convenient right now. 

Vash uses his gun to knock out the man without a word. He immediately goes limp, crumpling to the ground as Vash releases his wrist. You release the breath you’d been holding, noting the pain in your head and body, but mostly feel great relief. Vash’s gaze remains trained on the unconscious form before him, his expression complicated. Several beats of silence pass, and you feel yourself becoming slightly anxious. Why hasn’t he said anything this entire time?

“Vash?” You call hesitantly, voice quiet. 

Your voice snaps him out of his daze. His eyes flicker up to yours, relief washing over his features as he races forward, throwing himself on his knees in front of you. 

“Oh Mayfly, god, look what they did to you,” the words spill from his mouth as he holds you in a bone crushing hug to his chest. 

You let yourself be cradled in his arms, disappointed slightly when he pulls back after a moment. He looks pained. 

“Your head,” he murmurs, hand gently reaching for your temple. You hiss when his fingers graze the throbbing, painful area. He retracts his hand, the blood on his gloved fingertips making you realize you’re bleeding. 

“I am so sorry. I’m so, so sorry,” he whispers, holding you close again. 

You furrow your brow and shake your head, trying to ignore the dizziness it causes. 

“You have nothing to be sorry for. It was my-” 

The words die on your tongue as you hear a familiar voice chattering animatedly around the corner. Both you and Vash turn to face the noise, seeing Wolfwood strolling around the corner of the building nearby, holding a child in his arms. You feel the tension drain from your body fully at the sight of the familiar little boy unharmed. 

You hastily stumble to your feet, trying to get over to him, doing your best to ignore the dizziness that overtakes you from the sudden movement. Vash scrambles after you, holding onto you as you sway. 

“Easy, easy! I think you have a concussion,” Vash implores, but you press forward stubbornly. 

The child sees you, squirming from Wolfwood’s grasp to reach you. With dried tears on his face, he looks up at you with big, worried eyes. You feel Vash’s hand at the small of your back, gently steadying you. 

“Well, looks like we found her! Good job, bud!” Wolfwood praises, ruffling the kid’s hair. 

A bright smile forms on his little face. He reaches out and snatches your hand. 

“Come help me find my mommy!”

[yjano]

The mission.

Scenario: Mc is willing to do anything for love.

Pairing: Jake x Mc.

Warnings: Mature topics, angst, smut scene.

Words: 5.3k

Author's note: Thought about finishing my one shot that was really forgotten in my drafts. I hope you will like it. (Sorry for the grammar mistakes.)♡

After leaving the city, we drove for several hours until we finally stopped in some old areas near the forest. Jake leaned back, pulling out his leather pouch, and I kinda was surprised when he opened it and pulled out a gun.

"You will have to listen to me, and if I tell you to run, you will run. Do you understand?" He said as he turned to me, a serious tone lacing his voice. I quickly nodded, knowing that it was a lie and I wouldn't run if I knew that he was in danger.

"I'm serious, baby."

"I know, and I promise to listen." I hummed quietly, knowing it was a lie because I won't listen to him.

Unfortunately, he seemed to have sensed it. I quickly connected our lips to make the lie convincing, and when I pulled back, I got a look that it didn't work because he knew what was going on in my head.

"Don't test me and listen to what I said." He sighed.

It was a warning. I knew when he's demanding or when he's warning. When we finally stopped in front of some old building. It took me a few seconds to realize that this was our destination, so I quickly turned to Jake.

"Shouldn't we sneak in or something?"

"Baby, I like when they greet me." He laughed, the corner of his lips lifted as we moved to the door, and after climbing a few steps, we stopped in front of a metal door with a large lock.

"I doubt that someone will meet us, I mean, they're government agents, Jake. We shouldn't expect them to just come in your hands." I said once I noticed the lock on the old door was broken and that there was nothing inside.

"You will be surprised to see how welcomed I am here." He laughed while pulling out a gun that had a silencer on it, and I didn't have time to say anything when he shot through the broken lock. I watched as he knocked on the door several times and turned around, looking around his surroundings.

"Who greets their guests like that?" He mumbled as he looked around the large room, which was empty and went to the side towards the corridor.

"Why do they always want to go the hard way." He growled, looking around.

The room suddenly became silent, and I heard my breathing only. I felt anxious inside as I took a step toward him, but I got a look that made me freeze. He raised his hand, pointing at the ceiling with his index finger, and turned towards the corridor with a dog whistle. I stood there waiting for something to happen. And then we just heard a soft hum behind the wall, which was like a sign for Jake.

"A room on the second floor?"

He nodded in response, and he came closer, holding my hand. His steps were big and sure as he walked down the hall, and as he reached the door, he raised his gun, firing several shots that left holes in the wooden door. I didn't realize what was happening until he opened the door, and I saw two men with black masks on the floor writhing in pain.

"Fucker." One of them cursed as Jake raised his weapon and promptly blew his brains out while also finishing off his friend who was still writhing.

"I said that we would be greeted." He smirked and moved forward, trying not to get into a pool of blood, and I tried to look at him only so that I wouldn't see the bodies that were lying around us.

"How did you know they were outside the door?" I felt stupid for asking such a thing, but I don't understand how he did manage to figure it out.

"This is their typical step, baby, rats are always hiding in obvious places."

The sound outside the door was soon heard, and another shot got fired. I looked up to see another man on the ground in a pool of blood. I don't know why and how he had such a quick reaction, but it made me grip his hand tighter.

After passing another body, I saw a brick staircase, which, after climbing it, opened into an office-like room. On the left side, there were many old wooden tables with booths whose walls were halfway up, and on the right, a long corridor with many doors.

"What's next?" I asked when Jake looked around, looking at the windows.

"I thought you were here to help me find a room." He smiled, turning to me, and I understood that now it was my turn, so I let go of his hand as I stepped forward.

I approached the fourth door and boldly opened it as I stepped into the long corridor, but before I could step forward, I felt a hand on my waist. Jake walked past me, running his palm across my torso and stopping me at the door I was approaching.

After he opened the door, I went into the room, which was empty, and in front of me was a wall behind which the room was supposed to be hidden.

"How are you going to get into it?" Jake asked me as he looked up, so my eyes followed at what he was looking to.

"You must be joking," I growled when I saw the ventilation hole because now I understood why he was measuring me earlier.

"Does it look like I'm joking?" He snorted as he stuck the gun in the waistband of his pants, and without warning, he came closer, grabbing me by the hip and lifting me. I flinched and grabbed his shoulders, and when I got to the opening, I reached out to try to remove the bars.

"They don't open," I grumbled and flinched again when he abruptly lowered me to my feet.

"Try to put it in."

He pulled out his knife from his pocket and handed it to me again. I bent the knife and stuck it behind the edge of the grill and used force to peel one side behind which I put my fingers to peel off the grill. I folded the knife into my jacket pocket and lowered my eyes to Jake, immediately meeting his gaze.

"There will be a safe in the room, and I need what's inside it."

"How am I supposed to open the fucking safe?"

"Forty, thirty- five, and fifty."

I understood that it had to be a code, and I didn't have time to answer anything when he moved me toward the opening.

"I hate you," I growled as I grabbed the iron edge with my hands. When he moved me higher, I felt his hands on my ass and he slightly squeezed it to show his dislike to my words.

"We'll talk about it later." He mumbled, and I crawled forward until I couldn't feel his hands anymore.

I was halfway inside the metal square pipe. I felt like I was short of air because of how tight it was since I couldn't even raise my head normally while lying on my stomach like that.

Wasting no time, I began to crawl forward until I reached the next opening and slammed it open. I poked my head into a small room, which was the size of a shower with some kind of metal chest of drawers. I looked at the distance between me and the floor, realizing that I hadn't planned how to get down.

It took a few seconds for me to look around as I slipped back into the opening and crawled forward until the ends of my legs were at the exit. I put my feet in and started crawling back. Suddenly, I flinched when something hit the pipe I was in. This hastened my movements, and before I could catch the edge with my fingers, I fell straight onto the sub.

"I swear I will kill him when we leave this shithole," I growled, standing up and grabbing the phone. I went to the chest of drawers, checking the first drawer, which had some papers. I looked through the others, which were just as full of papers, and then I closed my eyes, getting annoyed by all of this. I looked around the room with gray walls and looked at the floor, but there was nothing.

"Shit."I pushed the metal dresser to look behind it, but there was nothing as well. Have we been tricked?

"Jake?!" I screamed towards the opening through which I entered and fell silent as if my life depended on it.

"What?!" He screamed as if I was doing something that made him distract himself from something he was doing.

"There's nothing here!" I screamed and flinched when something hit the wall next to me. I pulled back because I knew what would happen if this wall was torn down.

"There has to be something!"

"But there's nothing!" I screamed so loud that I knew that the whole building heard me doing so.

"Mc-" He growled as if he was going to strangle me for yelling this loud, and a second later, a shot was heard, causing the phone to fall out of my hands. I bent down, picking up the phone, and my eyes immediately caught the white concrete floor, which had a crack, and when I looked up at the phone, it was just fine.

"What the fuck?" I knelt down to check it and only now I did see that it was not concrete, but plaster that was like chalk. Without waiting for anything, I pulled out Jake's knife and hit the net with the other end, making a hole.

I didn't stop until I saw a small black safe that was lying under the floor. Someone really doesn't want us to find it if they put that much effort into hiding it.

I found the safe, and I know the combination, but the problem is that I have never opened the safe, so I don't know how it works. I blew the air to remove the white dust from the black iron doors and turned the wheel, seeing the numbers that allowed me to understand what to do. After turning the first combination, someone hit the wall next to me again, and I rushed with the whole safe thing until I finally unlocked it.

I opened the door to see a large envelope and immediately took it, opening it to see what was inside. I shook the envelope to see pictures of Jake with a small black USB drive falling out. I put the USB in my pocket and just now saw that among the photos, there were some sheets with his name on them.

I knew I shouldn't read, and I should hurry, but I ran my eyes over the notes that mentioned his crimes. There were pictures with red arrows, question marks, and some numbers. I don't know what it is, but I knew I had to take it, so I put everything in an envelope and tucked it behind my shirt. I looked up at the iron chest of drawers and went over to open the first drawer, pulling out papers. I opened another drawer until I finally got to the last one and found another folder, which I immediately tucked behind my shirt.

I felt my heart pounding as I felt scared from not knowing what was going on there with Jake, and quickly I climbed on top of the dresser to reach the opening. I jumped a few times, hooking halfway, and I felt pain in my hips, but I didn't stop until I was in the hole.

I crept to the exit and looked down to just see several bodies, but Jake wasn't there. I crawled forward and hit the exit with my feet, and then moved back. I held on to the edges slowly, lowering my body until I felt a hand grab my torso, which made me flinch and try to free myself.

"And what do we have here?" I heard an unknown man's voice, and I didn't have time to answer anything when he jerked me down, but it only made me hold on to the edges more.

"Let go." I grunted as I moved my legs, and he jerked once more, making me scream in an unnatural voice as I felt the pain in my ribs, which rested on the edge of the opening.

"Come here bitch."

I don't know where I hit my legs, but I kicked something that made the man slap me on the ass.

"Hey!" It was Jake's voice, and I stopped in my tracks as my heart started beating like crazy. I didn't realize that my hands were shaking, my legs no longer supporting my body, and I fell when the attacker hesitated to hold me, he didn't catch me and just forced me to fall to the floor. I quickly turned around to see Jake taking big steps towards a man who pointed a gun at him.

My body was working faster than my brain as I pulled out Jake's knife and stabbed the man straight in the leg, drawing his attention to me.

"Bitch!"

That was enough for Jake to close in, grabbing his gun and shooting the man through the chest. The shot echoed throughout the building, making me flinch, and as if that wasn't enough, I felt drops of blood run down my face.

"Are you okay, baby?" Jakes voice made me come back to reality, and only now did I see that his face was also bloody.

"Yes." I nodded, not knowing if this was the right answer, and Jake leaned forward, grabbing me by the torso to get me up.

"I found the safe. I wanted you to know that."

"Really?" He smiled softly and pecked my head as he unzipped my hoodie pocket, taking out a new gun clip. I just nodded, taking a deep breath.

"Good girl." He mumbled, relieved tone lacing his voice. His breathing was as heavy as mine. Probably while I was busy with my own business, he had something to do as well.

"What happened while I was gone?"

"Someone wanted my head." He changed the gun's holster and quickly turned towards the door because he heard some knocking. I don't know why, but he looked like he wasn't here with me because he didn't look me in the eye and acted like he was still in the gunfight.

"Jake?"

"Not now, baby." He panted out and reached into his pocket.

"I can't get distracted. Otherwise, we'll both end up without a head." He warned as if he knew that I could feel his change, and I quickly nodded, knowing that he was right.

"Stay behind me." He ordered moving towards the door and boldly left by turning to the side and firing several shots. I saw four bodies, and two of them were new because he had just killed them.

How many government agents wanted his head?

The question hung in the air as we went down the stairs and walked down the corridor that was stained with blood, and it made me rush to grab his hand. Jake didn't react as he pushed open the door to go outside but stopped in an instant, causing me to crash into his back.

"What?"

I panicked when he turned to me and looked behind me. A man was standing at the end of the corridor aiming a gun directly at me, and I didn't have time to react, when after a shot was heard, Jake suddenly turned us around so that I was behind him. I hit the door behind me with my back as Jake walked towards me, slamming the door with his palm behind me.

"Fucking idiot." He growled meeting my gaze and my instinct worked faster than I could think. He shot Jake. He fucking shot him.

I quickly grabbed the gun from Jake's hand and walked past him towards the man, emptying the entire clip into his chest. I felt anger rushing out of me like water from an overflowing glass, and when the bullets ran out, I stopped in front of the body.

I slowly lowered my gun hand and tried to slow down my rapid breathing, which made my chest move like crazy.

I watched the blood run from his body to my shoes, and I took a step back to come back to reality. I slowly turned to Jake, who was watching me, and looked as surprised as I was.

"He put you and me in anger." I mumbled, running closer to him, and I grabbed the hem of his shirt, lifting it up to see where the wound was, but I only saw a black vest.

"I'm fine." After he spoke, I raised my eyes to meet his gaze.

"I panicked, I thought he shot you, I couldn't think straight." My words were incoherent, and I wanted to make sure that Jake was really okay. I slowly lifted his shirt even tigher, touching the hard black vest with my palm.

"Baby, I'm fine." His voice became softer. Forcing me to believe his words. I sighed in relief and pulled his shirt down to hide his vest.

"Everything is fine, baby, let's go before more of them will come." He whispered, and after kissing me, he took my hand, dragging me behind him to leave the building.

After getting into the car, I realized that I was still holding the gun with which I had just killed a person. I just killed a man. I fucking killed someone for Jake.

I wanted to feel guilty, but I didn't because I did it out of an instinct that told me to protect Jake. Everything happened so fast that I didn't have time to realize what was happening. All I knew was that he shot Jake, so he had to die for it.

"I killed a man." I spoke quietly, afraid to look at Jake, and instead, I just looked at the road in front of us.

"I know." He answered with a serious voice, so I turned to look at him with a worried face.

"I emptied the entire clip." I spoke quietly again, confirming to myself that I really did it, and Jake turned to look at me. His eyes landed on the gun in my trembling hands, and he slowly reached out to grab it. As he dropped it at the backseat. He took my hand in his and interlocked our fingers slowly.

"You did what was necessary." He assured me, looking at the road, and I nodded in agreement, but at the same time, I didn't know if it was really necessary. I mean, he shot Jake. I knew inside that it was necessary because no one touches Jake while I'm around him.

~

After entering the apartment, I immediately went to the bedroom and threw off my leather jacket. I pulled out the t- shirt that was tucked into my jeans and took out the papers I had tucked inside my shirt, letting them fall onto the bed. I lifted my jacket, taking out the USB that was in my pocket, and turned towards the door when I saw Jake entering the room.

"There was an envelope with this USB in the safe." I mumbled and lifted the envelope, handing it to him.

Jake walked towards me, grabbing the envelope and dropping it on the bed before suddenly cupping my cheeks in his hands.

"Is everything alright?" His eyes ran over my face looking for answers, and I quickly smiled.

"Yes."

I lied because I couldn't get the fact that I killed a person out of my head. I took someone's life and I can't forget it so easily. I was disturbed by the fact that I did it so easily and because I don't feel any guilt like something is really wrong with my mind.

"There was a metal chest of drawers in the room, and I found papers with your name there." I said as I got out of his arms turning towards the bed, and I picked up the papers, opening them immediately.

"I thought they were also important, so I took them." I said, and he slowly unfolded the papers. I lifted the envelope that was lying on the bed and handed it to him. He didn't answer anything, so I gave him the USB, too, wanting him to be happy with me and say something, but he was silent.

"Well then, I need to take a shower."

I passed by him towards the bathroom and closed the door once I entered it. I went straight to the mirror, looking at my image, seeing some drops of blood on my cheeks. I turned on the water, quickly wetting my hands and wiping off the blood, but I still felt like that man's blood was on my body.

"Mc, get a grip." My voice sounded quiet as I stepped away from the sink and took off my shirt, dropping it on the floor. I unbuttoned my pants, sliding them my legs down, followed by my panties. I unbuttoned my bra, throwing it with all my clothes, and entered the shower.

I turned on the water, which was cold. I hesitated when I was changing the water to warmer, and only when it started to get warmer. I realized that cold water helped me better, so I turned on cold water again.

I closed my eyes as I stood under the cold stream of water and tried to understand why it was so easy to kill someone. I wanted Jake to tell me the reason he could do this without feeling like he had an excuse to actually kill someone.

I had to get into my head what Jake said to me in the car that I had no choice, and it was necessary because I was doing it to protect both of us. I did it for Jake. That guy shot him, so he deserved to die, right?

I heard the shower door open, and a second later, I felt warm hands on my torso. Jake's naked body pressed against mine, providing warmth that the cold water took away.

"Mc."

After he whispered my name, I immediately opened my eyes to see how his hand reached the water handle and the way he changed the temperature of the water to warm.

"You did it because you love me as much as I love you." After he whispered these words, everything just disappeared like the water that ran through my body washed away all the worries I had inside my head.

He was right. I did it because I love him, and I have to admit to myself that I would do it again. The feelings I feel for Jake are so strong that it can make me do things I would never have dared to do, and it didn't scare me at all. I wanted to be strong so I could protect both of us, and this was the first step I had to take sooner or later.

It seemed like I only now realized that he always did this for me, to keep me safe. Jake was the one who was ready to sacrifice everything for me, and it seemed that I only now understood the reason why he always mentioned that I was like him. He knew that I would be determined to do the same for him, and this only made me understand that the love I feel for him has no end.

"I love you." He whispered again letting me hear the words I adored and I didn't think I would hear him saying it a second time because he always warned me not to repeat these words and leave them for special moments. He knew that this was exactly what I needed, as if he was sensing that these words would warm my frozen body.

Maybe the love I feel for Jake would appear unhealthy and toxic to others, but for us, it was perfect because we were both something different.

I slowly turned around with my palms touching his bare wet chest and raised my eyes to meet his gaze. I grabbed his neck with my hand and pulled him closer, connecting our lips, and then I took a step back, hitting the wall with my back. He was the first to pull back, but I didn't let him pull back too far, I brought our foreheads together.

"I would do it again for you." I admitted, opening my eyes to look at his lips.

"I would sacrifice everything for the love of my life. For you." I admitted raising my eyes to meet his gaze, and suddenly, without a word, he connected our lips. I kissed him back as I felt his hands on my torso slide down to my ass and squeeze it to elicit a moan.

I wrapped my arms around his neck and wrapped my legs around his torso as he rose me up. His lips moved down to my neck, biting my skin, eliciting a moan that mixed with the water from the shower.

I gripped his back with my nails, feeling him go full length into me, pinning me against the wall even harder. He didn't wait for anything as he moved pretty fast. I rolled my eyes to back, grabbing his hair with my fingers and pulling the ends of them so that I could get a growl from him that I adored.

I felt the excitement go through my body, making me pull harder on his hair. Jake nibbled on the skin of my neck as he was thrusting into me at a quicker pace and whispered that I belonged to him.

I heard his voice and the way he kept repeating that I would always belong only to him, and I couldn't hold back the orgasm that made me shake with a moan that rang throughout the shower.

Jake didn't stop when his strong hands gripped my body so hard that I stopped breathing for a second as I felt him filling me fully. I opened my eyes to meet his gaze, and I immediately bent down to connect our lips in a kiss that we wanted so much to finish the orgasm we had achieved.

~

I woke up, and when I reached out to the other side of bed, I didn't feel another body that should have been lying next to me. I was lying on my stomach, so I lifted my body off the bed with my elbows to see that Jake's side of the bed was empty. For some reason, I had a bad feeling that crossed my heart for an unknown reason.

"Jake?" I called out and looked towards the door. Without getting the answer, I quickly sat down and got up from the bed, throwing on his shirt, which was lying next to the bed, and walked to the table, opening the drawers. It was empty, so that only meant that he had found what he was looking for.

I nervously ran a hand through my hair as I walked out of the room into the living room and looked towards the door where Jake's shoes were gone. For several minutes, I just stood looking at the door and biting my lower lip from the bad feeling I had in my chest.

I went back to the room with my phone and dialed his number, but when I heard the signal, I heard his phone ringing from the bed. I quickly walked to bed and lifted his pillow to see his phone. I sighed and quickly rejected the call. I don't like the idea that he left his phone and disappeared without saying anything.

I changed as quickly as possible without bothering to do my hair and walking to the door of the apartment, taking out my shoes from the closet. I quickly put it on without bothering to tie it and just tucked the laces behind the edges. I grabbed the car keys, feeling my heart pounding with anxiety and unlocking the door, but before I could open it, it opened by itself. My eyes suddenly met with Jake's, and the anxiety I felt made my body tremble.

"Where did you get ready for?" He asked with his eyebrows furrowed when he looked at my outfit, which was just black jeans and his shirt, which I just buttoned without bothering to put on a bra. I was in a hurry, not knowing where I was going, so my hair was still tangled, which showed that I had recently woken up.

"What the hell, Jake?!" I don't know why I screamed, but probably because I was panicked for his sudden disappearance and anxiety I felt. "Where were you?"

"At the Lilly's motel."

"Why did you leave without informing me?! I woke up alone and like it's not enough. I can't call you because you left the phone!"

"Why are you yelling at me?" He looked at me confused. His tone was calm. Too calm for my liking.

"Because you disappeared without telling anything."

"I always disappear without telling anyone anything."

"Yes, but now I have this bad feeling, so you can't just disappear. Not after what happened, Jake. I got scared..." I whispered, trying to calm down my breathing. His face softened as he came closer, grabbing my hand and pulling me into his arms, hugging me tightly.

"Baby I-" I cut him off almost immediately.

"Promise that you will be careful, Jake."

"I'm always careful. Besides, why are you worrying so much now?" He pulled back, holding my cheeks with his hands.

"I have this bad feeling that won't go away, and I'm afraid that something bad will happen to you." I said as I looked up at him. A gentle smile appeared on his face, with which he always showed that I should not worry.

"Nothing will happen to me, so stop talking about it. I've got it under my control."

"Promise me." I pressed him to promise because I didn't like how I had that feeling. I killed a government agent. He killed many of them, too. It's obvious that they will be looking for us now more than ever.

"Mc."

Why doesn't he promise? After all, I did not ask him to call out for my name, but I needed him to promise me that he would not disappear anywhere and would protect himself.

"Then promise that you won't disappear anywhere and you will protect yourself." I stared at him hopefully. He was silent for a long minute before a long sigh escaped his lips.

"I promise."

For a few minutes, we were both just silent, looking into each other's eyes.

Looking into his eyes, I tried to see if he promised me that only to stop my pressing, but I could not see anything. I could only curse at the fact that I couldn't see through the lies because Jake's eyes were professional when it came to hiding the truth. I could see the love he felt for me in them, but other emotions were hidden, preventing me from understanding him.

"Come on." He reached out to grab my wrist. I didn't resist letting my body move towards him. I melted into his embrace and closed my eyes, inhaling his perfume that calmed me down.

"Even if they caught me and tortured me. I would come back to you, even from hell baby. My promise will always stand. No one can separate me from you."

[youmakemyhearthowl]

Punk Princess

Ao3| Part 1| Part 2| Part 3| Part 4| Part 5 | Part 6| Part 7| Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 (Next Part)

Gareth is getting really sick of his shit, Eddies pretty sure.

He knows that Gareth had been hoping for something more to come out of the DnD session, but Eddie counts the entire thing a massive win in his book because he finally got a really good reaction out of Steve. The glazed over look in his eyes when Eddie called him Good Boy is, like permanently seared into the back of his eye lids. 

Eddie finally feels like he’s getting on equal footing in this flirtationship with Steve and he’s practically high off of it.

“Billy comes back to school today.” Mack whispers, throwing his arms across Eddie and Gareths shoulders as they make their way through the halls. Eddie feels a white hot anger, swirling around with dread in his gut. Steve’s face had just started looking like himself again, and Eddie had no idea if Billy would try to start something.

That question gets answered really fast, as the three of them round the corner, and shoved against the wall with an arm pressed to his windpipe is Billy Hargrove. Steve’s face is pressed close to Billy’s ear, whispering something, the red eyeshadow smoked around his eyes giving a sharpness to his face. He looks down right murderous, and Eddies only a little ashamed to admit it’s turning him on. Steve’s got a knee pressed between Billy’s legs, effectively pinning him fully to the wall before he’s suddenly shoving off him and backing up, spitting on the ground next to Billy’s feet, and Eddie can just make out a new split on Steve’s lips. 

What is with this guy and fighting, Jesus.

And why is it so hot?

Tommy’s stepping up and shoving Steve’s chest when they get close enough to finally hear what’s happening.

“You’re fucking deranged Harrington.” Tommy spits, still shoving at Steve. The laugh Steve lets out is deep, and a little bit terrifying, and unfortunately has Eddie adjusting himself in his pants.

“Keep out of it Tommy. I wouldn’t want to have to rearrange your pretty face too.” The tone he uses is the most fascinating thing Eddie’s ever heard, the threat is clear, but the slight flirtatious lit to it gives Eddie pause, until he sees the slight pink tinge jump to Tommy’s face. 

Steve Harrigton has always known how to weaponize words, and it looks like he still did.

“If I find out you’ve gone anywhere near any of those kids again Hargrove, I won’t hesitate to end your shit. And I know the ways you like to fight dirty now, so don’t act like I couldn’t. The bruise you left on Max’s wrist this moning is the last fucking time you touch her, do you understand?” Steve’s made his way back into Billy’s space, and Eddies almost certain he sees a silver glint between their bodies, but Steve’s open spiked jacket and the way he’s standing obscures whatever it is perfectly. 

And it’s about that time that Eddie realizes that Steve Harrinton is dangerous. 

Like probably would kill a man for the people he loves, dangerous, and the strangled sound that leaves his throat draws some of the onlookers attention, Eddie sliding his arms down to hold his books in a way that will hopefully not make his boner obvious.

“You have issues man.” Gareth cackles into his ear, Mack snickering right along with him. Just as a teacher is about to round the corner, Steve, fast as lightning is nowhere near Billy anymore, his arm slung casually over Robin’s shoulder and planting a soft kiss on her temple that makes Eddie’s heart squeeze with affection. Billy and Tommy glancing in Steve’s direction one more time before stalking off down the hallway and out of sight. Steve catches Eddie’s eye and smirks, shooting him a wink as he pulls Robin along with him towards their first class.

“It’s inhumanely unfair that Steve actively knows how hot he is when he does things” Eddie grumbles. His brain conjuring up images of silver glinting on sweaty skin.

“I think you just have a kink list a mile long and he checks them all off.” Jeff muses, joining them on the walk to first period.

“I think at this point his kink list is just ‘Anything Steve Harrington’.” Mack's words are echoed with his laugh as he bounds away down the hall to head off to wherever it is he disappears to when he decides to cut first period.

“If I have to spend one more second of my life talking about Steve Harrington, I’m gonna stab myself in the eye.” Gareth grumbles to himself under his breath as he throws himself down into his desk chair with an exasperated sigh. 

“Aw Gar Bear, it’s okay, I still love you.” Eddie sings-songs as he swings around in his chair to look at his best friend. 

“Not the way you love him, I fucking hope.” Gareth makes a face to show Eddie he’s joking, that they’re good and their friendship isn’t  really in any danger, but Eddie’s entire brain just blanked.

Because it’s been months of talking to Steve here and there, and weeks of hosting DnD for Steve’s kids, and even though they always joked that Eddie’s been half in love with Steve for years.

It was kinda true.

And getting to know Steve, getting to know the real Steve. The mom Steve, the soft Steve, the ‘I could murder you and not even blink an eye’ Steve.

Eddie wasn’t just half in love with him anymore.

Eddie’s pretty sure he wants to marry Steve and do the whole white picket fence thing with kids and pets and an annoying fucking neighbor.

“Fuck.” 

How do you tell a guy like that, that you love them? They’d never even gone on a date  before. 

A ball of paper hitting him in the face brings him out of his spiral. He glances in the direction it came from to see no one there, and Eddie's face twists in confusion, bending down to pick it up and smoothing it out.

You look hot when you get all flustered, Also your smile brightens like my whole day.

-S.H

Eddie’s cheeks grow hot. How could he not fall in love with someone like Steve?

Ao3| Part 1| Part 2| Part 3| Part 4| Part 5 | Part 6| Part 7| Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 (Next Part)

[a-lonely-dunedain]

ok and here we are with a shorter-ish part 3 wrapping everything in the reverse amnesia loop thingy up! (1, 2) featuring an appearance from @hallothere's guy Bregadir :) (sorry I couldn't Not include him, he was Worried about Tossdir and I'm love him)

also huge thanks to Hal for helping me brainstorm ideas all those... months ago? dang has it really been that long? rip other asks in the box lol. anyway I love Bregadir

Tossdir gave you quite a fright once the curse was broken. You were dazed for a moment after all your memories of him came flooding back to you, the memories of your stalwart but reckless companion, the little brother you never had, the one you would die to protect. 

When you found him crumpled on the floor before you, you feared the worst. But you were able to rouse him, he had only been knocked out for a moment by the sheer mental strain the flood of memories caused him in the heat of battle. You nearly cried with releif. Once the young Ranger regained his senses he clasped you in a desperate embrace. Tears were shed, but you both had little to say save for quiet assurances of ‘I remember you’ and ‘I know you’. You joked that Bregadir would have had your head if you had let something happen to him, and Tossdir laughed but did not disagree.

Once the two of you exit the cisterns, it wasn't long before the other Rangers found you. Once the enchantment was broken they all remembered everything. They remember you, stalwart guardian, cunning loremaster, Golodir’s shadow. And they remember Tossdir, loyal brawler, lonely child, Meneldir’s shadow.

They remember now, too, everything that happened while the curse was in effect. They remember both of your pleas for help, and they remember thinking of you as madmen or worse. As soon as the curse was lifted they scoured the city looking for the two of you, and after they found you spent the next few hours making near-tearful apologies and trying to make absolutely certain you’re both alright. 

Well, most of them were near-tears, but poor young Helcheon couldn’t hold them back. In one of your earlier attempts at convincing him of your story you must have sounded particularly suspicious, and he actually tried to attack you. You insist that you hold nothing against him for it, if you had been an imposter it would have been the correct reaction after all. Mincham thinks that he never really posed any danger to you in the first place, and you're inclined to agree, but won’t say it out loud for Helcheon’s sake. He clearly feels bad enough already, you don’t need to add insult to injury.

Mithrendan wasn’t able to hold the tears back either. Apparently when Tossdir had come to him for help, Mithrendan had called the guards on him. He recognized the sword he bore as once belonging to Elenath, and thought he had somehow stolen it. 

But now he has the memory of that event, of Tossdir shouting at him through tears as he was being dragged away, begging him to remember, but he remembers Tossdir not as the raving madman and stranger he saw then, but as Elenath and Orndir’s son, the lonely boy he watched grow up in Tornhad. 

Mithrendan has returned the sword to him, apologized for it probably a hundred times now, and Tossdir has forgiven him the same amount. Tossdir now says that getting him arrested ‘wasn’t even a big deal’, as the wardens forgot about him at the same time every night so escaping was a trivial task for any ranger, even one with so little skill in the art of stealth.

But earlier today when he told you about that incident, while the curse was in effect and he thought you would not remember the conversation, you could tell he was near tears even just remembering it. He laughs about it now, he doesn't want the memory to be painful.

The most unexpected one present is Bregadir. You thought he was far away aiding in the cleansing of the Morgul Vale, but soon after the curse was broken you were informed that Bregadir had already been on his way back to Minas Tirith since a few days ago. After a dark mood came over him in Rath Dúath, Dagoras believed it was the darkness of the vale taking its toll on him so he was made to return to Minas Tirith for a respite. But now you can put the pieces together, the reason for Bregadir’s sudden depression was being made to forget his younger cousin and believing he truly had no family left. Needless to say you’re a little alarmed at just how far the range of the curse’s effects truly were, but it’s over now at least, only terrifying in hindsight.

You all expected that the breaking of the curse would hasten his journey towards the city, you all expected him to arrive tomorrow or maybe the next day. None of you, however, expected to see him burst into the room mere hours later haggard and disheveled, breathing like he had just run over ten miles (he might have, but for the sake of his health you hope not), and demanding to know if Tossdir was alright.

He got his answer when he was nearly knocked to the ground by Tossdir, hugging him with a running-start. He’s all right now, at least.

But everything has calmed down now. You’re all back here in Ethedis’ room in the guest houses, really a cramped place for so many Rangers to be gathered at once, but no one wants to leave despite how late it is. Some of them are crowded on the two small couches in the room, seated on the bed, or just on the floor. You yourself are huddled next to the fire along with Tossdir and a frankly absurd amount of blankets and pillows. The horrible chill caused by the curse did not leave all at once, but warmth has slowly but surely been seeping back into your bones over the last hours, and here surrounded by your friends and kinsmen you finally feel comfortable again. You’re glad none of them have left yet.

None of you have said such out loud, but you all share the same worry at the moment. Your kin remember how quickly the curse could take effect, they remember you becoming a total stranger to them mid-conversation, and it’s a thought they’re all now horrified by. 

The curse took effect late at night, and it’s getting late now. You all know, logically, that the curse is broken, but knowing something isn’t quite the same as believing it, not when it has been your reality for nearly a month now. As the night wears on the conversation becomes much quieter, and you catch some of them casting nervous glances to you or Tossdir, making sure they still recognize you. You catch yourself doing the same.

Ethedis is curled up under your arm, as close to you as she can be. Partially because she’s afraid to let go of you, partially to make enough room for Tossdir and Bregadir to sit with you as well. You long for sleep, you have hardly slept at all these last few weeks, and you can tell just by the look of him and the same is true for Tossdir. Your eyelids are so heavy they threaten to remain shut every time you blink. But both you and Tossdir are still awake, both too nervous for any rest at the moment.

Eventually you all hear distantly the ringing of a bell marking the hour, a familiar sound in the city that you might usually ignore, but not this time. You know what it means, it is the late watches now, and the curse always took effect a little while before that time, never after.

No one is alarmed by your presence, you know the young man next to you is Tossdir, and you do not feel cold. You feel perfectly warm and comfortable. Safe too, for the first time in a long while.

Tossdir looks at you with a little uncertainty, just checking one last time to make sure he’s still remembered. You respond with a gentle smile, putting your other arm around him and pulling him close.

“It’s really over then?” he quietly asks for maybe the fourth time, but for once sounding like he’ll actually believe the answer. 

“Mhm,” you respond groggily “We did it, Toss. Everything is going to be alright now.” You feel all the tension go out of him at once.

“Well,” you cheerfully address everyone in the room now “If it was going to happen tonight, it would have done so already. I think I can safely say the curse is officially, irreparably, broken.”

“You will not get rid of us that easily, brother.” Radanir says with a wry smile from his spot on the floor.

“I am still not going anywhere,” you hear Lothrandir say from the couch. “As long as Ethedis does not mind our continued presence, that is.”

Ethedis merely shakes her head “And you two aren’t going anywhere either…” she mutters sleepily, squeezing you a little tighter “Not letting you out of my sight.”

It looks like Tossdir is already asleep against you, you wouldn’t dare disturb him “I don’t think you’ll have to worry about that, Eth.” you say softly. You adjust yourself into a slightly more comfortable position, and are soon lost in a long overdue slumber.

[the12thnightproject]

Can I have a request for the Warlords reaction to an MC who has culinary skills like from the anime "Food Wars"? (Just in case you're not familiar with it, its an anime about cooking. Really fun to watch. There are clips on Crunchyroll and Youtube). I know that when the Warlords would dig into MC's food, their kimonos would fly off (its part of the show-if a meal is SO good, clothes would fly off- sans under garments).

Hope this is a good one! 🍛🥙

Hi Anon!

Thank you for the ask - I wasn't familiar with the anime, but I did find some youtube clips, which were helpful...

An MC whose cooking is so good it causes spontaneous random acts of nudity and flying kimonos…

Nobunaga: (Is caught raiding the kitchen for leftovers) Hideyoshi, “My lord, haven’t I told you to stop eating sweets late at night?”  Nobunaga, “I’m just getting a glass of water.” Hideyoshi, points to the kimono hovering near the ceiling. “Uh huh.”

Hideyoshi: First experience of MC’s food was on a picnic. Won’t be making that mistake again. Still has flashbacks (emphasis on flash) of creeping back into Azuchi, holding the picnic basket in front of his … picnic basket.

Mitsuhide: Sadly, Mitsuhide’s lack of tastebuds means that he cannot experience MC’s food the way everyone else does. But that just means he can have fun secretly feeding MC’s cooking to random people (Hideyoshi) at random (inconvenient) times and laughing when their (Hideyoshi’s) kimonos fly away.

Masamune:  Wants to learn MC’s cooking secrets. Learns MC’s cooking secrets. He and MC spend happy hours in the kitchen, tasting as they cook. Both have some rather… intimately placed burn scars. Neither cares.

Ieyasu: Doesn’t think MC can possibly make food hot enough for him. Learns lesson when kimono doesn’t just fly off him – it spontaneously combusts.

Mitsunari: Devours an entire dish while reading. Doesn’t notice loss of kimono. Walks around naked for several hours before Hideyoshi finds him and throws a haori over him. Thinks that he possibly forgot to get dressed this morning? (It… wouldn’t be the first time).

Keiji:  Upon discovery of the properties of MC’s food, perfects a magic act that culminates in the entire audience losing their clothes at once.

Ranmaru: Is such a wee sprite that when his kimono flies, it carries Ranmaru with it. They call him “The Flying Bun.” Is now a regular feature of Keiji’s magic act.

Kennyo:  Eats the food. Presumes his kimono has entered a higher plane of existence.

Motonari: Philosophical conundrum. MC’s food is the only food aside from his own that he is willing to eat, however nudity on a pirate ship is neither safe nor sanitary.

Kicho: “No thank you. I’m not hungry right now. I’ll do take out – I’m sure you’re familiar with the concept of takeout aren’t you, Future Girl?”

Kenshin: Why eat food when there are pickled plums to be had? Can you make pickled plums, MC? Upon discovering that MC can indeed make pickled plums, and what happens to him when he eats them, he puts MC in the dungeon, so that she will only make pickled plums for him, and to protect her from naked warlords.

Kanetsugu:  “What did you do to Lord Kenshin, MC? I’m sorry but your cooking is TOO dangerous. We’re going to have to banish you. What’s this? Mochi? Well… perhaps just a taste…”  *poof*

Shingen:  “Let’s feed each other.”

Yoshimoto:  As he is unphased by casual nudity, and likes good food, ends up spending a lot of time walking around the castle naked, and startling the maids.

Yukimura: Stop feeding people! It’s winter! What, are you crazy? We can’t walk around Kasugayama naked. We’ll freeze to death. And stop staring at me! It only appears small because I’m cold, dummy.”

Sasuke: “Fascinating…” designs a series of randomized double blinded experiments with different dishes to compare the trajectory, velocity, and total distance travelled of flying kimonos.

@mllorei