#pick whichever one you find most cursed and know it in your heart to be true

[vaguely-concerned]

we need a poll. what do we call dorian. a mortaboo/mooaboo (mortalitasi weeabo). a wooaboo/watchaboo (watcher weeaboo). a neeaboo/necroboo (you may start to see my design here). he knows what he is and he's not ashamed of it. he went 'while you were busy being lame I studied the skull. and got laid a bunch ¯_(ツ)_/¯. we are not the same'. after one family vacation to nevarra at like seventeen or whatever he made it his whole personality and himself insufferable enough around the house that his dad finally caved and sent him to the watchers for them to deal with for a term. where he then went on to make himself insufferable around the necropolis in general and to emmrich in particular. I love him beyond words.

[yestrday]

: ̗̀➛ YANDERE SALARYMAN IS A FOOL FOR YOU .

ahhh, looks like you caught the attention of an overworked white collar! who is truly the victim here, you or him?

( yandere, perverted man!!!, nsfwish but no s3x, hes creepy :(( ) + thanks to my bbg for being my beta reader mwah mwah

YANDERE! SALARYMAN who is constantly overworked to the bone by his abusive boss. He's clocked in so many overtime hours that human resources is beginning to suspect something, but his co-workers keep pushing their work onto him that he can't help but go overtime. Working days always seem to be like this— constant yelling by his shitty boss, papers jamming the printer, co-workers dumping more work on him before time-out, the side-eyes and whispers of women directed at him in the elevator, and somehow always forgetting to bring the lunchbox his roommate made for him.  He's a pushover with no backbone, so he spends most of his nights banging loudly at his keyboard and cursing his own spinelessness.

YANDERE! SALARYMAN who's just a walking black hole of negativity. It's already bad enough that he's been dealing with a lot of mental baggage from his childhood, but this stupid fucking black company is making him this close to fucking losing it.

YANDERE! SALARYMAN who only wants to go pick up a coffee after work and sees you manning the cafe. Just a sweet little thing, working their student debt away at the new cafe's that opened up near his workplace. He tells himself that it's all part of your job to smile and be polite but fuck— your sweet grin's making his hands go clammy and his voice tremble.The line behind him shoots him judgmental glances because the creep is blushing and sweating and stumbling over his words but if you were ever annoyed, you don't show it on your face. No one’s been this nice to him, but when your fingers brush over his shaking ones when you hand him his order, electricity spikes from his fingertips and sends his heart into overdrive as you flash him another service smile. He has never believed in a god before, but upon meeting you, he might as well declare himself religious.

YANDERE! SALARYMAN who feels super guilty about drooling over you when you're several years younger than him. You're just a college student trying to finish your studies while he's a white-collar slave about to enter his 30s. The contrast between you and him is like heaven and hell, and he curses himself for being such a stupid filthy pervert as he palms himself to your Instagram page he's managed to find.

YANDERE! SALARYMAN who is once again tired and about to die from another night of overtime, heading out to catch the last ride home and surprised to see you closing up shop. You brighten when you recognize him as one of your regulars (he could give two shits about the black coffee he was ordering when he was too busy ogling you). He stammers and shrinks when you ask him about how he's doing out of concern. You mention his eyebags and his pale skin and his overall sickly demeanor and you fret over him as you two walk to the station. He's at a loss for words when you force the ham and cheese croissant into his hands and tell him to eat up, before waving at him with a grin as you enter your bus.

Woah. So like. You're in love with him, right?

YANDERE! SALARYMAN who goes fucking crazy over this interaction. He knows, he knows, he knows, okay?! You’re just nice like that, but his affection-deprived mind is going into overdrive and can’t help but overthink. But he has to stop himself. You’re probably only like that because you pity him, huh? Whatever’s on his pallid face and baggy eyes must have had you pitying the minimum wage salaryman. … This pity act is probably only to make you feel better about yourself, handing croissants out to whichever near-death white collar you see on the street like some sort of good Samaritan. Well, he doesn’t need it! You can fuck off with your—

YANDERE! SALARYMAN who finds himself in front of the cafe again, nervously adjusting his tie and wiping his clammy hands on his slacks before pushing the doors open. You’re on the morning shift today (haha wow what a coincidence) and the grogginess from waking up extra early today is wiped clean after you look up from the tabletop you’re wiping and shoot him one of your megawatt smiles. Fuck fuck fuck why’d you have to be so damn cute! A man could get the wrong idea, you know?!  

“Espresso for Doppo!” Your bright voice rings throughout the cafe and the salaryman has to gulp down his anxiety as he makes his way to the counter. His neck grows hot as he feels glares boring into the back of his head, and the only relief he has is your sunny smile when he picks up his order. “Thanks again for your patronage! Quite the regular here, aren’t you? All staff’s been ecstatic over a Matenro member stopping by here.”

Ugh… The staff knows him? Not only is an insignificant water flea like him taking up a space in your mind, but there are others as well? What could they be possibly saying about him? He nervously laughs, eyes darting around the place as he fidgets. “Uh, ah, y– you know me…?”

He can feel the look that you’re shooting him right now, and he wants to dig a hole for him to hide away in. “Of course! Matenro, the winners of the first Division Battle… waaah, I was so ecstatic when I saw you for the first time! You guys were so cool. I was even cheering you on during the second Division Battle.” You sigh sadly. “Well, Fling Posse’s good, but a Shinjuku local’s gotta stay loyal, y’know?” Oh, so it’s just about being loyal. What was he even thinking, getting his hopes up that maybe you liked Matenro, liked him, for their rap. Stupid, stupid, stupid— “Oh, but don’t get me wrong though! I love the way you guys do hiphop. Especially your screaming shtick, Kannonzaka! Can really feel the pent-up stress from Chuohku all the way to here, haha!”

Doppo shrinks into himself, using his work bag to try and hide the shaky smile that’s been threatening to break out onto his face. To… To think the cute barista he’s been crushing on for a month now is a fan of him… This kind of stuff only happened to Hifumi, not him! He doesn’t… He’s not quite sure to handle the situation. Instead he nods as you gush over Matenro and at the end, finally squeaks out a tiny little, “Th– Thanks!”

You shoot him a pitying look. Clearly all that rap about his pent-up stress and rage is clearly stemming from somewhere. Sighing and looking at the building in front of you, you see the skyscraper’s soulless windows and architecture and sigh. “Enjoy the coffee then, Kannonzaka. Being a black company worker is stuff but!” You shoot him a grin and a thumbs up. “I’m rooting for you and Matenro!”

YANDERE! SALARYMAN who’s reeling from your compliments and praise. Oh… Oh god. You– You liked him! Actually liked him. And, and you said you were cheering for him too! Well, him and Matenro, but still! He goes back to his apartment feeling more chipper than usual, something that his roommate notices. The creepy smile matched with the dark laughter as he enters their apartment isn’t exactly charming, but he’s happy to see him happy nonetheless. He thinks that he’s been wearing that gloomy look for far too long and he’s glad to know that he’s found someone to brighten up his days.

YANDERE! SALARYMAN who has gained some courage to hold longer conversations with you. When you’re working the night shift and run into him after closing up, he’s glad to know that you take his dry humor very well. As the two of you silently walk together to the station, he can feel his heart beating so fast that he might near collapse. He wipes his sweaty palms on his slacks and swallows down the anxiety in his stomach. It’s already weird to see a near 30 man walking together with a fresh-faced uni student alone and at night, so he might as well not add more to his creepiness.

YANDERE! SALARYMAN who has to bite down his tongue when you press up against him in the jampacked train. You smell like coffee and pastries and he— he tries not to sniff himself— probably smells like sweat. A sudden lurch of the train has you clinging to him to maintain stability and oh god oh god oh god you smell so fucking good shit. He suppresses the urge to sniff your hair. Instead, he (oh gosh he was really about to this) shakily wraps one arm around you, his palm on your lower back to offer you more support. You smile at him so sweetly, as if the dirty old man didn’t have the agenda of just trying to feel you up. Oh… oh gosh he can feel the dip of your lower back… trailing to your—

He hopes you don’t feel the tent down… there. Though with how tightly you two are up against each other, he highly doubts that.

“Bye Mr. Kannonzaka!” You cheerily wave to him as you both part ways at your stop. Though he is unable to match your energy, he waves you off with a faint smile before you bound off to your home. His eyes linger long as your figure disappears into the distance and he’s left all on his lonesome.

— Then he runs off to the nearest bathroom. People cast him weird glances as he rushes off to the farthest bathroom stall and sits on the toilet, burying his head in his hands as he tries to make sense of the numerous thoughts rampaging in his head.

Oh god. That just happened, didn’t it? Something straight out of those perverted doujinshis that happen on trains. And he was the ugly bastard, wasn’t he?! The weird, creepy, scummy ones preying on innocent girls that don’t deserve their fantasies. He was a hopeless case. He should do the entire world a favor and make away with himself, but then he couldn’t see your pretty face in the hell that he was going to. You didn’t deserve this—

His phone dings. He checks the text notification that comes from you.

[Your Name]: heya ! just curious about what brand your bag is. felt it on the train and dats sum serious quality leather!

He screams into his hand. The man in the stall beside him angrily knocks on their shared wall to shut him up. He rack his brain to try and figure out any possible way to properly answer without rousing suspicion until you send another text.

[Your Name]: just kidding~ (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧ 

…

… You’re going be to the death of him, you. Youngsters these days.

you thought this was a general yandere fic, didn't you?! get hypmiced!!! /matenros you/

[silversatoru]

Hi, I just finished burdens and OML 🥺🥺🥺

May I request some sort of megumi x reader continuous where the reader ends up becoming a powerful sorcerer (or a cursed spirit👀 whichever you’d like tbh) megumi and the reader somehow cross paths again a little while after the break up and he witnesses her fighting for the first time? I just know that boy would fall in love all over again but she’s moved on and he feels guilty and just angst? And maybe fluff idk. I’m new to requests so I hope I did this right, thank you so much❤️❤️

burdens pt. 2

a/n: hello, part two of this not-so-lovely story is finally here. every single one of you is allowed one free punch to my face for taking so long to write it,,, i’m so sorry. this is its fourth rewrite and it got a little darker than expected but it’s finally done,, i hope you enjoy <3

fushiguro megumi x f!reader

synopsis: you finally see megumi again at the kyoto sister school goodwill event

tags/warnings: angst, some graphic depictions of violence, character death

word count: 3k

“Do you know how tired I am of watching the people I love die? Things would be so much easier for me if you just stayed the fuck away”.

Megumi’s bitter words were on repeat in your head — the harshness of his voice leaving a hollow feeling carved into your chest. Tear-stained cheeks and shaky breathes had become your new normal these past few days. Tight, sharp pains filled your empty stomach, waves of nausea coursing through your body.

You’ve had no motivation to get out of bed lately, nevermind to shower or cook yourself a proper meal — honestly, for all you cared you could rot away in your blanket filled bed. You checked your phone like a fiend too, thinking that eventually, a miraculous text from Megumi would appear and make everything better. It never did.

He’d completely ghosted you since that dreadful day, and that hurt more than anything. You’d held onto a sliver of hope that maybe, just maybe, he hadn't meant what he said. But as the days continued to pass, your hope quickly dwindled.

To say your current state was shameful was putting it lightly, and you were embarrassed at how poorly this was effecting you. You liked to think that you were strong, motivated, independent — that you didn't need some douchebag just to feel happy. But truth be told, breakups are fucking hard, and it's okay to not be okay for a while — or at least that's what you kept telling yourself.

So when you were trudging miserably down the street to your local convenience store and you saw a familiar pair of jujutsu sorcerers, you wanted desperately to sink into the ground. You made a quick turn to head to a different shop, but it was too late, you were spotted.

“y/n! hey!” Two lighthearted voices sang through the air, filling your ears and making your heart clench in your chest.

You turned around and anxiously approached them, your unkempt hair and baggy eyes sending looks of concern across their faces.

“Hey girl, you good?” Nobara shot you a sideways glance, Maki raising a suspicious eyebrow.

“Yeah, uh, ice cream,” You croaked, speaking for the first time in a couple days, “I’m here for ice cream, that’s all”.

“Yeah, but why do you look like a fucking zombie?” Maki pushed her eyeglasses further up her nose, her sharp eyes looking you up and down.

“Ah, he didn’t say anything to you guys, did he?” You shook your head, heavy eyes falling to ground as you refused to meet theirs.

“Don’t tell me…” Nobara’s face contorted, “Did he break up with you?”

You nodded, a pitiful chuckle falling from your lips, because if you didn’t laugh, you’d start sobbing right now.

Maki threw her arm around your shoulder, pulling you to her side and ushering you into the store, “It’s okay, men suck. Hang out with us today”.

Meanwhile, Nobara trailed quickly behind the two of you, anger seething from her teeth and steam practically billowing out of her ears.

“That fuckhead! I swear I’ll fuck his shit up big time, he won’t even know what fucking hit him. I knew that boy was stupid but shit, this is a whole new low for him! I-,” She continued to ramble and rant as Maki led you through the store, picking out drinks and snacks to help ease your pain.

The three of you ended up in a nearby park, sitting around a small picnic table and gorging on the massive array of snacks. Lighthearted conversation and lots of food make your chest ache a little less, and you even found yourself laughing and chatting as if things were normal. You’d told the two of them all about that day, about Megumi’s irrational words and his tragic breakdown that led to some kind of fucked-up break up sex.

“So, how are we gonna get back at him? Egg his car? Put bleach in his shampoo? Bugs in his food? God - it’s a shame his dad is dead because from the pictures I’ve seen that man was FINE and revenge sex—,”

“Nobara,” Maki shot her idiot girlfriend a dirty look, and the orange-haired girl quickly shut her mouth, “As much as I support any idea that revolves around ruining a man’s day, I don’t think revenge is the healthiest coping strategy here”.

You were tracing your eyes around Maki’s face as she spoke, and you found yourself carefully inspecting her purple glasses that rested softly on the bridge of her nose. And that’s when it clicked, the light bulb ignited in your head and you knew exactly what you wanted to do.

“Maki,” your voice was urgent, “You don’t have cursed energy, you can’t even see them without your glasses!”

Her face twisted and her nose scrunched, a look of distaste in her eyes, “I know?”

“So, you could teach me, right? You could help me learn how to use some cursed weapons?”

“Yeah! You have to Maki, then she can beat his ass with me,” Nobara chimed in.

“That’s not a bad idea actually,” Maki’s mouth formed an evil grin, “Could you imagine his face after watching you exorcise a curse?”

The three of your conversed for a bit longer, speculating and potting about training, weapons, and your very own pair of curse-seeing glasses. By the end of the night you had a plan, and a pretty good one if you say so yourself.

From that day on, teary eyes and achy hearts were a thing of the past, not because it was that easy to get over Megumi, but because Maki didn’t even allow you the time to feel dismal anymore. You met her everyday after classes without fail, and everyday she would train you until you thought your arms would fall off. After months and months of sore muscles, sweat, and the occasional injury, you were convinced that Maki was incapable of feeling pity or remorse for other living things. Every time you speculated about quitting, she’d set a fire under you, unafraid to remind you how weak you still were.

The green-haired sorcerer had ultimately decided that you worked best dual-armed -- a long, lightweight blade in each hand. On your final day of training, she officially gifted the two swords to you, as a “graduation” gift.

Skill-wise, you were by no means as incredible Maki, but you definitely held your own, and the progress you’d made in a mere 8 months was astronomical. They’d introduced you to a strange silver-haired man at some point, Gojo, who had taken not only an interest in you but also your plot against your ex-boyfriend. He cackled to himself when you told him why you were here, going on and on about how priceless Megumi’s face would be when he saw you.

Your appearance was highly anticipated, so why not debut at one of the biggest jujutsu events all year? The Kyoto Sister School Goodwill Event — Gojo thought it was the most perfect idea.

You tried hard to exude confidence as you walked at Nobara and Maki’s sides, but behind your arrogant facade your stomach was twisting itself into knots. Truthfully, you were scared to see Megumi again after so long.

And when your eyes met with his as you walked into the meeting room, you thought you just might pass out. You thought you were ready for this — but the look of complete shock, fear, and anger on his face as he looked you up and down almost made you regret all of it.

“What’s going on?” Megumi’s words were incredibly calculated, an edge on his voice.

His question was pointless, however, because judging by the fact that you were wearing a jujutsu tech uniform and had two swords sheathed at your sides could only mean one thing. Your hair was longer now too, and your frame was wider with an extra layer of muscle from all the training — you almost looked like a different person.

“I’ve been training with Maki, I-,” You spoke up to explain yourself, but you weren’t even granted the opportunity.

“No, no, Maki, what the hell did you do?” His eyes were shaky and laced with concern.

“I only did what she asked me to. I’m not the one who gave her a complex about being weak, you did that,” Maki shrugged, “and she’s not your girlfriend anymore dude, what do you care?”

Absolute confliction flashed through his eyes, uncertainty and madness swirling in his irises, “You’re right, I don’t care. Let me know when the event is starting”.

He took a sharp turn out of the room and let the door slam a little too hard behind him. The sound of his icey voice and the door shutting with unkind force was all too reminiscent of the night you broke up. Burying every emotion you had deep into your stomach you gave Maki a small, reassuring smile and plopped down on one of the couches.

“Alright, so when does this thing start?”

after the start of the event

Fighting the Kyoto students was proving to be much harder than you initially expected, but you were holding your own at Maki’s side. The two of you had easily taken down a small, kind, blue haired girl named Miwa, and now you were watching an emotional battle between Maki and her sister unfold.

Wait here, she’d told you, I want to do this one myself. Take some notes on my form and watch our backs, okay?

Okay, you’d said, a little confused but ultimately finding a nice spot up in a thick tree to carefully observe from. Maki was truly a force of nature, and it seemed like the other girl never actually had a chance of winning. It was honestly only a few minutes before the small black, haired girl was slumped against a tree and Maki was making her way back to you. Things were looking good, two of Kyoto’s student’s were down already and adrenaline was pumping through your veins.

You couldn't quite shake the awful feeling churning in your stomach though, and Megumi’s face was haunting your thoughts. You hadn’t seen him since before the event started, when an odd, pink haired boy jumped out of a box and freaked everyone out. Nobara had later explained who he was and what had happened, and you wondered how many awful surprises Gojo had planned today -- first you, then that.

A small rumble rippled under your feet, and Maki grabbed your arm as you watched a giant brown vine lurch it’s way out of the ground a few hundred yards in the distance.

“That technique doesn’t belong to anyone from Kyoto,” She shot you a look of concern and determination, “let’s go check it out”.

You gave her a firm nod, the two of you making your way towards the horrifying wooden vines. By the time you managed to arrive, Inumaki was already down and so was a dark-haired boy from Kyoto. A muscular, white curse with black markings and wooden branches for eyes was moments away from taking Megumi on all by himself — thank god you got here in time to help.

Megumi, however, was horrified when he saw you jump over the tall roofed building with Maki at your side. He’d just watched two incredible sorcerers get their shit rocked by this curse, there was no way you would stand a chance against this thing. But before he could even try to stop you, you and the green-haired sorcerer were flying through the air and taking shots at the curse. The two of you worked perfectly in sync, the months of daily training finally paying off.

He watched with intent glazed over his eyes, his heart threatening to lurch up his throat. You were a spectacle, and he always thought you were beautiful but seeing you now with dirt and blood stained clothes, cursed weapons gripped firmly in your hands, you truly were ethereal. He hated it though, he hated that he was falling in love with you all over again, especially under these circumstances. Guilt and anxiety was eating away at him — why did you have to get involved? Why couldn’t you have just stayed away like he told you to?

He was quick to join the two of you, sticking close to your side to protect you if need be — but, even with all three of you together the curse still had the upper hand. Maki had been swatted to the side, her back slamming hard against one of the tiled roofs and knocking her unconscious. It was down to just the two of you now, beads of sweat causing your hair to uncomfortably stick to the back of your neck. This was something that Maki’s training could have never prepared you for.

Megumi was getting tired, taking one wrong step and losing his footing momentarily. The curse saw this as a perfect window of opportunity, sending a spiral of vines and branches hurling for Megumi. It was fast, but the adrenaline coursing through you helped you to move faster, launching yourself through the air and intercepting the attack. The barky, wooden vines twisted violently through your stomach, shooting clean through your back and ripping a violent scream from your throat.

It hurt so bad, feeling the plant wriggle through your organs and tear you apart from the inside out. The curse retracted his vine a few moments later, leaving your mangled body to fall helplessly to the roof. Tears rippled from your eyes, your body shaking and seizing as you coughed up a few sprays of blood.

A long, strong pair of arms scooped you up instantaneously, and your head was resting against a firm chest — probably Megumi, but you didn’t quite have the energy to open your eyes to check.

“We’ll take it from here, get her to Ieiri!” You heard a pair of deep voices yelling to Megumi, but it was too foggy and far away for you to understand what they were saying.

Megumi was seething with anger, moving as fast as his feet could carry him and he ran through the school. As you waved in and out of consciousness, you batted open your eyes, stealing quick glances at his twisted features and — were those tears on his face?

“I- I’m sorry Megumi… I think I finally understand what you were so afraid of all this time,” Your voice was barely a croak, “when I saw it coming, I couldn’t stomach the thought of having to watch you die. I suddenly just thought I would do anything to keep you safe”.

Yeah, those were definitely tears, you could see them a little clearer now. His eyes were red and his cheeks were dried with salty streaks.

“You’re so thick-headed,” he mumbled, his grip around you tightening slightly as he picked up his pace, “I wish you would have made that realization before there was a giant hole in your stomach”.

“Me too,” You hummed, but you weren’t really in any pain anymore. The pain had subdued to a sweet warm sensation inside your stomach, and an intoxicating sleepiness was washing over your head, “I was angry for a long time, but I’m not mad at you anymore, Gumi. I hope you can forgive me too”.

You offered him a tiny smile, but the blood leaking from between you keeps made it anything but sweet.

“There’s nothing to forgive you for, you never did anything wrong,” He spoke quickly, his voice quiet and cracking.

“No, but we’re not gonna make it to Ieiri, I know that and so do you,” You fell into a violent fit of coughs again, sputtering red splatters all over the front of his uniform.

“Shut up”.

“It’s not your fault, none of it was ever your fault,” you choked out once the fit of coughs subsided — and you weren’t just talking about yourself, you were talking about all of the unfortunate tragedies he’d witnessed throughout this life.

“And you’re allowed to be selfish sometimes, you know? I hope that when you meet someone, your soulmate even, you can allow yourself to love them with every part of you”.

The words painfully left your lips, but you meant every single one of them. You were starting to realize that you and Megumi were never meant to make it to the end. You weren’t his soulmate, you were here to help him grow, so that when he did finally meet them he’d be ready.

“You deserve to be loved, Megumi,” You looked up at him with big eyes, but his face was starting to get really fuzzy now.

Your fingers were going numb and your mouth felt like it was filled with sand. You were so tired, letting your eyes flutter shut and your head rest softly against Megumi’s chest. You felt him stop running, you could even hear him screaming at you — but it was too far away for you to hear. You drifted closer and closer to eternal sleep, your soul swollen with love for the boy who broke your heart.

Megumi didn’t even feel sad when you stopped breathing in his arms — he just felt hollow. More empty and broken than he’d ever thought possible. You were the most incredible person he’d ever met — someone with extreme motivation, who acted with no fear or hesitation, who always had love to give, even when he didn’t deserve it. He’d never forget you, not for as long as he’d live anyway.

Even when he did meet a new girl a few years later — a compassionate, brave girl, who reminded him a lot of you — he wouldn’t forget. He wouldn’t forget your words and for the first time in his life he’d let his walls down for her. He’d allow himself to truly love, and be loved in return.

And maybe you were right, maybe he did deserve to be loved like this, because god, he finally feels whole again when she’s around. He just wishes you were still here so he could say thank you.

[aminiatureworld]

Leaden Dreams

Characters: Albedo, Kazuha, Scaramouche, Xiao, gn!reader

Word Count: 1,908

Warnings: Vague depictions of sleep paralysis

Premise: In which the reader experiences sleep paralysis

Author’s Note: First time writing Kazuha! I just finished his story quest today, so I hope that I have an okay grasp on him. Still working on his talking style a bit but I adore his personality.

Also though I experience the part of sleep paralysis where you’re awake but can’t move (can’t recommend the experience) it’s usually during the day so I don’t really experience dreams. As of such if this is inaccurate in any ways I’m very sorry.

Albedo

Albedo knew about sleep paralysis on a theoretically level, knew that it was a phenomenon that caused one’s brain to awaken when the body was still fast asleep. He’d never given the concept much thought, not any more than he might any other bit of science that remained shelved in his mind.

Now that was certainly not the case.

Albedo knew the telltale signs, the small spasms that revealed the battle between your mind and your body. Knowing that you were fighting to move your limbs, open your eyes, relax your jaw, he would always speak first, knowing that you might not immediately respond.

“It’s alright my dear, I’m here. I know it’s frightening, but I promise you’ll be able to move soon. Just focus on one thing, alright? Maybe your eyes this time, since last time you tried moving your tongue. That’s it, just one thing first. It’s always better to start small.”

He wouldn’t move from his sleeping position until you regained control of your body, afraid that a sudden touch might cause you even more distress. Keeping himself carefully pressed into the mattress he didn’t fare lift his head, for fear his face might melt into something frightening. Since he knew he was helpless, his goal became to stop things from getting worse.

The moment you began to move however the alchemist would jump into action. Turning lights on he would pick up the glass of water from his nightstand before gathering you up into his arms, positioning himself so you could listen to his heartbeat as you drank. The first time it had happened he had left the room to get the glass to soon, and the memory of you curled up desperately into the covers still tugged at him.

Albedo would then go through what you had half-dreamed with you, thoroughly debunking all the distortions of your normal life. That shadowed human outside the window was a combination of the balcony and the half opened curtains. The voices were partially his own, partially your brain trying to process your own breathing. The figure hiding behind the door of the hallway was because of the boxed piled along the other side of the wall. The people dancing on the ceiling could be fixed with a repaint. Over and over he would remind you of the fact that you were safe, that your amygdala was simply going into overdrive. Over and over he would thoroughly debunk your nightmares until once more things settled into place, piles of clothing becoming one more fabric, dressers no longer dancing as if possessed.

He would tell you to wake him up if he began falling back to sleep, determined that he should be watching over you to make sure an episode didn’t happen as you were falling back asleep.

In reality though you didn’t mind if he drifted off a little before you. His breathing was a soothing melody, his slow, steady heartbeat a rhythm with which you could anchor yourself. He was staid and sure, and that was something you grasped onto desperately, something you would never stop appreciating.

Soon enough his reasons would soothe your mind, and you’d fall once more asleep.

 Kazuha

The first thing Kazuha always did was pull the blankets over you. If the outside world was threatening you, then he’d simply block it out.

Making a cocoon around the two of you he would begin to tell stories. Fairy tales, things that had happened to him during his travels, anything that you brain might latch onto. The stories were always very short and self-contained, easy to understand, and through your panic addled brain you always seemed to find them.

Sometimes when things were particularly bad he’d softly cradled your hands, careful not to move to quickly or too suddenly in case the sensation caused you to panic even more.

“Our hands fit together so well, don’t you think? I could write a poem about them, or maybe about yours. Maybe you’ll help me with it after this is over? It will be soon dearest, I know it will.”

Sometimes he would sing little songs that he’d picked up. Usually sea shanties, their rhythm helped you, less complex than poetry, more lyrical than the jagged fear that screamed at you.

Kazuha wouldn’t ask you to share immediately. When you finally moved he would first squeeze your hands gently, kissing them before your forehead, asking if it was too hot beneath the blankets, then making sure a light was on if you needed a little fresh air.

He never acknowledged what had happened before you did, but he wouldn’t pretend like it didn’t happen either. Instead he would ask if you wanted to listen to a story or tell one. Whichever you chose he would keep holding your hands, making sure that even when he gave you space there was still something that grounded you.

Sometimes when you cried he would tell a very specific story.

“There once was a warrior, brave of heart. So brave were they that shadows tried to chase them. Someone this noble cannot exist! They cried out. The warrior must be false. We will find their weakness. However no matter how hard they tried this weakness was never found. For the warrior was truly brave in heart and soul.”

Normally you might consider such a story overdone, but in those liminal moments between fear and sleep the story format helped. This was simply a harrowing part of a story, but there would surely be a better end.

 Scaramouche

Scaramouche never thought that he’d ever sleep next to you.

Humans were loud and irritating, and that only became more true when the Harbinger was trying to get a few precious hours of sleep.

However after a particularly bad week he decided that the only solution to your terrible lack of attention was to deal with the matter himself.

He wasn’t necessarily nice about it, grumbling about your poor sleeping habits, saying that this was an awful waste of time. However the moment that panic consumed you, the moment that things started to twist around you, you felt a sudden hand on your arm.

“These idiotic phantoms are nothing. Come on, I know you’re strong enough. How could you ever let something so puny win against you.”

Though you certainly didn’t agree with him about that you had to admit it helped somewhat. Though your initial panic never disappeared, it became easier to climb out of your dreams, to see a light at the end of the endless tunnel of fear.

Every time you jerked once more awake Scaramouche let himself admit some sort of relieved satisfaction.

“You’ve done it again. As you always have. I don’t know why I bother sleeping here when you’re competent enough on your own.”

Nevertheless Scaramouche would always let you embrace him, not commenting on the tears that often accompanied you. Loosely resting his arms on your back he let out exaggerated breaths.

“Will you sleep now?”

It didn’t matter if you said no. Scaramouche would simply mutter something about bad sleep habits, but he would nevertheless stay awake.

He would always fall asleep last, even when his eyes burned slightly and his body called out for rest.

If he was going through all this trouble after all, he might as well see it through to the end.

 Xiao

Xiao saw dreams as extensions of human karma, of human wants and needs and wishes.

If a human dreamt a good wish, it was a revelation of their hearts desire. If they tossed and turned with nightmares it was their fears and shames manifesting. A dream was never just a dream, a shuffle of random events and names and faces. Dreams were alive; dreams had their own wills, all connected to the will of the human they were attached too.

Xiao loathed to see you haunted by your dreams. How could someone so wonderful as your be chased by something so awful? The little that you told your partner caused a distant sort of dread. He could never understand your fear of falling asleep, but he surely felt the dread of whether or not you might be allowed peace.

The threads that surrounded you, that surrounded all humans, always tensed when you were entering an episode. Careful not to leave your side too much Xiao would light a few candles, not too much to be jarring to your eyes, not too little to add to your nightmares. If you could only open your eyes then Xiao would pay even more attention, making sure that the dim lighting didn’t add to your distress, shifting the candles or blowing them out if need be.

Xiao didn’t talk much normally, but he would keep up a steady stream of questions in these moments, even if you couldn’t answer them. Whether you were aware of his presence, whether the window being open was a problem or not, whether you needed more light or less. He would keep these questions in the back of his mind for you to answer once you could again, not only so he could do better next time, but in case the nightmares we too close to be spoken about.

Usually Xiao would ask about them again in the morning, and sometimes you would discuss it then. Though the yaksha knew that nightmares were often the fears that humans accumulated, the curses that attached themselves to unsuspecting victims, he never talked about that aspect with you, indeed when he talked about it at all. Most of the time he would just listen, tracing soft circles along your back and down your arms.

Right after an episode Xiao would make his way over to you. Most of the time he would stay in one place while the episode was happening, near the candles or by the window, making sure he didn’t startle you anymore. Now though he might move every once in a while, or turn your head softly towards him if your eyes became fixated on one spot in the room. Always he’d go to open the window, and the familiarity of the routine became something that lulled you back into a sense of piece.

Not sleeping himself Xiao never told you that you need more rest, that you should go back to sleep. If you needed to stay up the rest of the night so be it, he would be there with you. If you were too tired and found yourself drifting off to sleep he would promise to protect you, to fight off any demons that might be lurking.

Sometimes Xiao feared that his burden of curses exacerbated your sleep paralysis. Those evenings he would wait for you to sleep before slipping away. Always he would leave his sleeve and his mask, making sure that if you woke up you would still have something of his presence to comfort or protect yourself with. Those nights he would stare out into Liyue and think about all the things that he carried with him, all the things that you did too.

Regardless of those nights he would be there in the morning.

“Did you sleep well afterwards?” He would always ask. Regardless of your answer, which he would surely pay attention to after his second question, he would stare into your eyes.

“Do you think things would be easier without my presence?”

Always you said no.

[parkers-gal]

through the tears T.H.

warnings : child birth, cursing

summary : reader goes into labor, and the grandparents meet the baby !! (requested)

word count : 1800

i wrote this like months ago lmao but enjoy

Any day now, you had told yourself. Any day. Of course, you were nervous, and quite frankly kind of terrified of the baby Holland coming. Weeks into your third trimester, you and Tom couldn't be anymore prepared, and the preparation of the baby coming made you forget that she was actually coming.

You were watering the plants on the shelf in the living room. You were due any day now, and you were as ready as you could be. Maneuvering around some leaves, you started to pull the pot a little closer for easier access, but then you felt something leaking down your leg. Looking down you realized your water had broken.

Oh shit, here we go.

And then, Tom came in, a phone in one hand and a notepad in the other.

"Hey, love. Do you think we should go with the first model or th-"

But when he glanced up to look at you, you were slowly turning around, eyes wide and jaw slack.

"Love? Are you alri-"

"My water just broke."

You were making your way to the car now. Tom was grabbing the emergency bags, for you and the baby, making sure his wallet and phone were with him before he started the engine.

"Try to stay calm. Remember the breathing exercises we learned? In and out, in and-"

You had groaned in pain at the first, very minor, contraction. Though it was one of the less painful ones, it was still an unfamiliar feeling, and you weren't used to it.

"Almost to the hospital, love."

"Thomas slow down! We might get pulled over or something!" You said, a small smile on your face, grinning through the pain.

When you arrived at the hospital, Tom jogged in to let them know of your situation, and two nurses came out, one with a wheel chair and the other with a clipboard. They were wheeling you in and keeping you updated, asking you very few questions before letting you know that your doctor was preparing for your labor.

"You're the husband?" She turned to Tom.

"That would be me," he said.

"The cervix is still opening at the moment, but once it's wide enough we can start the process. We won't know for certain how long this could take, but at this rate it'll probably start within the hour," she informed him.

Tom was wide eyed at the mention of the cervix opening, but he nodded nonetheless. Then, he was back by your right side. You were laying in the bed, legs spread as the hospital gown was covering most of you. You were sweating, panting, and reaching for Tom.

"I'm right here, love. How're you feeling? You're gonna do great, angel."

"I'm-" you took a breath. "I'm alright. Hurts like a bitch though."

He laughed at you before kissing your hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze. He leaned down to your ear to whisper a few words. "I'm gonna make a few calls. I'll be right back, angel." And then he kissed your shoulder and speed-walked out into the hallway.

He was ringing the landline to his parents, in hopes that word would spread and he would only have to make one call.

"Hey," Tom spoke first, testing the waters for who picked up.

"Hey, Tom? It's Harry. What's up?"

"Uhm, Y/N's water broke and we're at the hospital right now."

"Holy shit! What?" Harry screamed, excitement and nervousness evident in his tone. "Are yo-"

"Harry, you're gonna make me more nervous. Please, just tell mum & dad so they can get here. I need to go."

"Right yeah, of course."

"Thanks, bro."

"Anytime."

Tom sighed in relief, and he was about to hang up before Harry spoke up again.

"And, Tom?"

"Yeah?"

"Congrats, man."

Tom was starting to tear up. It wasn't everyday that him and his brothers had a heart-to-heart moment, and the realization of becoming a dad made it all the more emotional.

"Thanks, Harry. I'll see you soon, alright?"

"Yeah, man. We wouldn't miss it."

***

"Mum? Dad?" Harry called out, grabbing his phone and his wallet before heading in what he hoped was their direction.

"Yes?" Nikki answered, drinking tea from her mug as Dominic sat across from her.

"Y/N's going into labor. We need to go now."

The mug made a clattering noise from the small drop onto the table. It didn't break, but it sure did surprise both boys. And then, she was calling the rest of the Hollands and loading them into the car.

*** Harrison had arrived first, finding Tom's duffel bag on the floor in the hallway outside your room.

"Hey, Tom!" he said, walking in.

"Oh man -- hey, Haz."

They did a quick 'bear-hug' before making eye contact.

"You're about to be a dad."

"I know," Tom said, his voice more nervous than Harrison had ever heard.

"And you're gonna be great."

Once again, tears were welling up in Tom's eyes. But before he could continue the conversation any further, a nurse was coming up to Tom, almost disregarding Harrison's presence.

"Mr. Holland?" she asked.

"Yes?"

"Your wife is ready to go into labor, now."

The boys made brief eye contact, Harrison understanding, and he left the room to wait in the waiting-room chairs.

"Hey, love," Tom said, reaching for one of your hands, which you gladly gripped and squeezed.

"Thomas where the fuck have you been?" You whined, sweat coming out profusely and covering the entirety of your neck and face.

"I'm right here, darling. I'm not leaving, okay?"

"Get ready to push, Y/N," your doctor said from between your legs, interrupting your brief conversation with Tom.

Your husband had kissed your forehead, whispering encouraging words as you squeezed his hand for push number one.

"You're doing great love," Tom said, looking to the nurses for confirmation, to which one of them gave him a thumbs up. "I love you so much, Y/N. You're doing amazing. You're gonna push again, okay?"

You let out a loud groan, more like a cry and scream of pain and effort.

The doctor had felt your stomach over the hospital gown, mumbling something to the nurse beside her, before speaking up. "Last push, Y/N."

You groaned, attempting at one but failing.

"Just one more, love. Can you give me one more?" Tom said gently.

"I can't. I can't!" You cried, falling back onto the pillows.

"Just one more, baby. You're so close, and you've been doing great. Last one, darling. Okay? One more for me."

You nodded, hair sticking to the back of your neck as you squeezed his hand harder then ever. With a loud grunt, it was over, the baby successfully out as a nurse cut the umbilical cord. You fell back into the cushions as Tom went to look at his babygirl for the first time ever.

The nurse who was holding her smiled at Tom before letting him know they were going to wash up your baby.

Tom had taken a cold, damp towel and wiped your face. He got a new one to completely dry it off, before kissing your forehead and your hand. "Did so well, love. I love you so much."

"I love you, Tommy," You had managed to get out.

Less than ten minutes later, she was in your arms for the first time. Your gown was pretty low on your breasts, so the skin-to-skin was breathtaking. Tom was crying now, looking at his two girls and thanking whichever gods gave him you.

And then you were handing the baby over to Tom. Tom held her gently, like she was the most fragile being in the world.

He gasped through his tears. "Just like her mum."

"She's got your eyes, Tommy."

"Nonsense, darling."

You had breathed out a laugh, looking at Tom and your baby before letting one last tear fall.

"God I love you so much," you said.

"I love you. Both of you, so much," Tom had replied.

His phone had chimed in his pocket, and he was handing the baby back to you.

"What... what're we going to name her?" Tom asked timidly.

"Scarlet?" You said.

"After.. my grandmother?" Tom said, more tears forming.

"Yeah," You smiled softly.

"I like that," Tom said. "I like it a lot," he laughed through his tears. "Scarlet Leslie Holland?"

"Leslie," you repeated in a whisper. "Leslie," you whispered again. "Scarlet Leslie Holland."

"Yeah," Tom whispered back.

"I love it a lot."

Tom had kissed your forehead again before making his way into the hallway, where both sets of parents and siblings were waiting.

"Well?" Nikki said first, standing up as everyone else stood behind her.

"Do you want to meet her?"

*** The room was large, enough to fit everyone, thankfully. Upon entering, Nikki was first to catch a glance at you and her granddaughter, and the sight made her gasp, a hand to her mouth as tears formed quickly, falling just as fast.

"Oh, Tom. She's beautiful."

"They are, aren't they?" Tom said, standing on the other side of your bed as he watched his family's reaction.

"Do you want to hold her?" you asked, sitting up.

Nikki nodded, coming over and carefully taking the baby from you. She was in awe, cooing at the youngling while you whispered something to Tom about where your parents were.

"They said they'd give my family some time alone, first.. you know how your mum is: always the polite one," Tom whispered back.

You laughed before nodding. You turned back towards Nikki and the baby, silently watching them, as was Tom.

"Oh, Y/N," Nikki said. "She has your eyes."

"You see, love?" Tom said, smiling.

"She's so beautiful," Dominic confessed. "You two really... you two did really good."

"Thanks, dad," Tom said, a blush spreading on his cheeks.

"What's her name?" Paddy asked.

You glanced at Tom, smiling bashfully before replying. "Scarlet. Scarlet Leslie Holland."

"Scarlet," Nikki whispered, just as you had with Leslie.

While Nikki and Dominic were preoccupied with the baby, Harrison had made his way over to the two of you.

"Tom," Harrison said.

"Haz."

"You're a dad now," He said, his green orbs watering.

"Yeah," Tom said, laughing while stray tears fell.

"I'm so proud of you, man."

"Thank you, H."

"You know, Harrison," you cut in. "You're gonna be a pretty awesome godfather, don't you think?"

Tom looked down at you and smiled. He had let you choose who the godparents would be, and it warmed his heart to know you had chosen Harrison.

"Wait-" Harrison said. "You're serious?"

"Yeah," you said, laughing.

And then, the two boys were hugging and crying.

When they broke apart, Harrison spoke again. "I feel so lucky to have you three."

Each of Tom's brothers had a chance to hold the newborn, each one crying tears of joy and feeling immense pride in being apart of yours & Tom's journey.  

And then, Scarlet was back in your arms. You cradled her close to your chest, cherishing the feeling of her fresh skin against yours, the sweet smell of her new life starting, and you smiled through the tears.

[folk-ever-lore]

Death By A Thousand Cuts

Soulmates were presented in the media as this oh so perfect brilliant love story, but people who’d actually met their soulmate would say differently. There was one major reason for that, you only found out who your soulmate was when they died. 

Whichever person in the bond died first was cursed to haunt the other(s) until they too died. It was meant to be perceived as the ultimate loving act, going to the afterlife hand in hand with your soulmate(s), but for anyone who had ever actually experienced it they would tell you that it is one of the most heart-breaking things a person could ever go through. Sitting there, being forced to go through your day, all while knowing you were the only one who could see and interact with your soulmate. The pain could, had, crushed even the strongest of souls. 

It was always a tragedy when anyone began to see their phantom, but when little kids began to see their phantom it was a truly horrifying moment. When a kid asked why there was a glowing figure that followed them around it broke more hearts than the kid with the innocent question could have guessed. 

Marinette had always imagined that it would have been easier if she saw her phantom as a young child, then it never would have suddenly hit her one day that her soulmate was dead. It would have just been one of those things she accepted at a young age. Instead she had to gain her phantom at the ripe old age of twelve. 

He'd appeared one day in class, just another boring lecture until he'd shown up in the left of her vision. Marinette had been at the age where she knew what had happened, she knew what this meant for her and her soulmate; she had promptly turned as white as, well, death. That meant-

That meant her soulmate had died. 

People had started looking at her with such pity after that. After they all found out, and how could they not from the way she'd collapsed in class, she hadn’t been Marinette Dupain-Cheng anymore. All she would ever be after then was the girl who’s soulmate died, the little kid with a loveless future, the poor child who got their phantom so young. She’d never be anything else again. 

It was all people thought of when they saw her. And no matter how hard she tried to make herself worth more than her soulmate, it never worked. It was all she was cursed to be. Forever. 

She hadn’t even been able to interact with her soulmate to start off with, not talk to him at least. He spoke English rather than her French, and her English hadn’t been good enough for her to have a proper conversation with him. It broke her heart each time she saw him, but she was his only remaining link to the world so he had to find a way to interact with him. 

The English lessons she had at school were nowhere near good enough to make her anything close to fluent in the language, so she spent a good proportion of her free time studying the language so she could get to know her soulmate. And given time, he picked up French from her help after she’d gotten better at English and by being forced to follow her around at all hours of the day. Sitting through all those boring lessons of French Literature and Grammar were suddenly a lot more important to her. 

The first thing Marinette did after being left alone for the first time since her soulmate’s appearance was talk to him. It was something she found quite therapeutic. At first she used the basic, non-conversational English she'd learnt at school to find out his name and age. 

“Hi,” she’d offered him with a shaking hand, her eyes red after the revelation. “I’m Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

“I’m Jason Todd,” he offered with a sad smile. Unable to say much given the situation they’d found themselves in. It wasn’t like he could really say it was nice to meet her, not with the circumstances.

“Parles-tu français?” She had asked him with an already knowing look, she knew he didn’t speak French given all the English he’d been muttering since his appearance. 

“Non,” he’d replied while shaking his head.

After their first conversation, slowly they could say more and more to each other, both of their skills in the other’s language growing each day. And given time, their situation became their new normal. She would allow him to say a few things to her parents whenever he wanted to, acting as his interpreter. 

They would watch movies together, sometimes in French with English subtitles, and sometimes in English with French subtitles. Not only did it give them something they could easily do together without the language barrier, but it also helped them overcome their language barrier. She got introduced to more and more English and had the French underneath to help her, and Jason got to hear some of his first language that he barely heard anymore. 

And when she became better, almost fluent in English after months of constant practice, they moved onto reading books together. She would go into a bookstore and they would pick out a book together, more often than not in English so that Jason could reread some of his old favourites. 

Together they would try to spend at least half an hour a day reading. Of course that wasn’t always possible with school and the off days she had to work in the bakery when it was exceptionally busy, but they managed it more often than not.

She turned to the page of their latest book, engaged in the story and desperate to find out what was going to happen next. A familiar tingle flared on her shoulder, signifying that Jason was trying to tap her shoulder. 

“Sorry,” she murmured apologetically, turning that page back. For once they’d chosen a French book instead of one of the normal English ones, and she’d forgotten that Jason didn’t read as fast in the language as he did in his mother tongue. 

After the initial adjustment - and grieving - period, life went on for Jason and Marinette as well as it could. They not only spent lots of time together getting to know each other and becoming close friends, but they also developed many new hobbies that stemmed from the other’s interests. It was a brilliant way to spend time considering no one at school would dare interact with the girl with a phantom. 

Jason never really told her how he died, just that it wasn’t a very pleasant story, and that was fine. She would never push him on that, it was his past and he had every right to keep it a secret if he wanted to. What he did tell her about was his family, not much of his birth family, but his adopted family. 

He talked so fondly of his older brother, Dick, and his grandfather, Alfred. There was a bit of talk about his adoptive father, but he never once gave her a name, and only spoke about him very rarely. Marinette figured that he never told her too much about them because it meant he missed them less, knowing that she wouldn’t one day search them up and go find them. She was happy to learn what she could about Jason.

It was only on her first day of her Troisième year at Collège when she was fourteen that he began to tell her about who his family really was. After the first akuma attack, when she’d been forced into action as Ladybug for the first time. He’d left her be during the attack, aside from offering some advice and letting her know if anything was near; she was rather grateful for that, it let her focus on the task at hand.

After the attack was over they finally got time to talk in her room, classes had been cancelled for the day so it’s not like she was missing anything.

“I can’t do this,” she sobbed to him. “I’m clumsy and create disasters all the time, I’ll just make everything worse.”

“Then don’t do it,” Jason told her with a paler look than normal on his face. “I’m sure you would be an amazing hero, but it’s much safer to be a civilian.”

“Really?” She looked at him with tears in her eyes, “Should I give the earrings up then?”

“If that’s what you want to do,” he nodded. “The flying bug thing can probably make it’s way back to his owner.”

“Then that’s what I’ll do.”

It didn’t work out too well, Ivan had been re-akumatized pretty quickly after she’d tried to give up the earrings and so the kwami had turned to give her the earrings back. And after the success of defeating the second akuma, and her promise to the people of Paris she couldn’t give them up.

“I’m sorry,” she told Jason afterwards, “but I can’t leave them without a hero.”

He gave her a weak smile, clearly uncomfortable but willing to support her. “It’s alright, I understand. I’d be a hypocrite if I made you give them up.”

“What?”

He sighed, “”Have you heard of Batman?” 

She nodded, “He’s from Gotham, right?”

“Yes. He mainly works in Gotham, with his sidekick - Robin. And well, I was Robin.”

“You were a hero?” She asked, amazed at what she was hearing.

“A vigilante, but yes. My adoptive father is Batman and I was Robin. It was one of the villains we fought that murdered me.”

“Oh god,” she brought her hand to her face in shock. “That’s awful. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not like there’s anything that can be changed now,” he shrugged. “But if you go through with this will you please let me help you train?”

And so each night, as long as they had the time, Marinette and Jason trained. He taught her martial arts with the help of the internet, and taught her many of the same skills Batman had taught him in his life. 

Given time Ladybug became unstoppable, able to defeat many of the akumatized victims within ever shorter periods of time. She became as silent as any member of the Bat Family, became a diamond under pressure, became a hero much better than what Paris needed. It was all thanks to Jason, she didn’t know what she would have done without him. 

With the effectiveness of Ladybug and Chat Noir, but mainly Ladybug, it took time for word of the attacks to reach the Justice League. The only reason they ended up finding out about the Parisian heroes’ existence was because of Ladybug’s rising popularity all over Europe. 

They’d been quickly sent away by a bitter Ladybug as soon as she had laid eyes on Batman. She’d learnt all about what had happened with Jason’s death and how he’d failed to save his son after that first akuma attack, and Jason didn’t want to be forced to spend time around the man. She would have been interested in talking to Wonder Woman, but as soon as Batman showed up she refused to talk to any member of that team. 

Jason had thanked her as soon as the Justice League left their city.

Of course, the Justice League tried to get in contact with them a few more times after that, but given her one request of ‘No Batman’ was always ignored she felt it within her rights to ignore them back. What were they going to do? Lock up Paris’ main hero? She didn’t think so.

And everything was fine, totally fine, after that. She went to school, saved Paris daily, did her homework and spent time with Jason. There was nothing she would have changed, minus the whole ‘she was never going to get to share a future with Jason’ thing that she’d been grieving for years. They continued on with their lives, each day something she enjoyed. 

Sure being a superhero was exhausting but the feeling of saving others was so rewarding. And she was a teenager so there were the obvious ups and downs and mood swings, but there was nothing Jason couldn’t help her through.

Until he disappeared.

During one akuma attack she heard the cries of her soulmate at her side. Given how he normally only tried to point things out and offer advice during attacks she couldn’t help but be alarmed at his pain-filled screams. But that was nothing compared to the heartbreak she felt when she looked over at him. Holes were ripping into his phantom form, whole chunks of him were being ripped from his ghostly body and she was stuck watching as it happened.

Even with everything that had happened during so many akuma attacks, it was one of the most gruesome scenes she’d ever witnessed. Jason was being ripped from her, being taken from her bond. She reached out to hold his hand as it happened, knowing there was nothing she could be as the force that bound his soul to her location broke and Jason was nowhere to be seen. 

She dropped to her knees as she sobbed. Her soulmate was gone, violently ripped away. Marinette didn’t know what had happened, she’d never heard of anything like this happening before. 

She wanted Jason. Jason was gone. 

[plaidbooks]

I get SO EXCITED when your fic requests open up!!!!! I would love to request some mutual pining/yearning between Dodds and one of his SVU detectives. Prompt "I'd do anything for you," maybe where his dad has noticed them eyeing each other secretly and gives Mike the old "WE've worked too hard to get you to this position." (Idk, maybe those should be 2 different requests? You can choose whichever you prefer!)

Every request i send in gets more and more long-winded 😅😳

Exchanging Glances

A/N: This was a fun prompt! I'm sorry it took me so long to write it, but I hope you enjoy it!

Tags: shootings, otherwise none

Words: 1918

Taglist: @witches-unruly-heart @beccabarba @thatesqcrush @itsjustmyfantasyroom @permanentlydizzy @ben-c-group-therapy @infiniteoddball @glowingmess @whimsicallymad @lv7867 @storiesofsvu @cycat4077 @alwaysachorusgirl @glimmerglittergirl @joanofarkansass @caracalwithchips @berniesilvas​ @qvid-pro-qvo @averyhotchner @imalostredheadinablondeworld

Mike being assigned to SVU was both a blessing and a curse. It was a blessing because the squad was short staffed, and he more than pulled his weight. He was also a great detective, and a great leader. The curse was how goddamn attractive he was.

He was your superior; there was no chance of a relationship with him. But you couldn’t stop the butterflies in your stomach when he smiled at you or complimented your work. The worst was when you walked into the locker room one day and found him in his undershirt, his dress shirt hanging open. The soft, white shirt left nothing to the imagination as he stretched against his broad chest, and it was a struggle to not stare…or drool.

He hadn’t even seemed embarrassed about it, talking easily with you as he slowly buttoned his shirt, his long fingers moving deftly. You had quickly made an excuse and practically fled the room. But after that moment, you couldn’t help but picture those strong arms holding you against his broad chest.

You often caught yourself staring at him while at your desks, before you’d look back to your computer screen, hoping no one noticed. Though of course, both Rollins and Carisi saw, and they teased you relentlessly for it.

“Why not ask him out?” Carisi asked you one day during lunch.

You choked on your egg roll. “A—absolutely not! He’s our boss,Carisi!”

“For how much longer?” Rollins chimed in. “I heard daddy’s tryin’ to move him.”

That made you pause; if Mike left SVU, you wouldn’t see him anymore…but maybe you could ask him out then. “Well, I’d rather wait until he’s gone before asking,” you replied, picking at your food.

“Come on, he’s a good guy,” Carisi said. “I bet Mike would love—”

“Love what?” Mike asked, coming into the break room and snagging a takeout box.

You felt how hot your face got, and you ducked your head, pretending to eat. Thankfully, Liv came into the break room, saving you all.

“We have a hostage situation. Let’s go,” she ordered before leaving. You all glanced at each other, fun times fading, before you were up, scrambling for your things in your desks.

*********************

You were huddled outside the door to the kitchen, gun in hand. Mike was on the other side of the doorframe, eyes locked to yours, gun in his hand as well. You were both flanked by the squad and officers, waiting for the go ahead from Liv. You knew she wanted to be in there with you, but as Lieutenant, she had to be outside, calling the shots for everyone involved.

“Green light,” she said into your earpieces. Mike nodded at you, and you nodded back. Then he took a step back and kicked the door in. You cut in front of him as he caught his balance, heading into the kitchen, eyes scanning. You had your gun up, and once you found your perp, you swiveled to aim at him. But he was faster; he fired before you even had the chance.

You grunted as you took a bullet in the ribs, your vest absorbing most of the impact. You still stumbled, though, the wind knocked from you. You being off balance turned out to work perfectly, as Mike was able to get a shot off, clipping the guy in the shoulder.

Both Carisi and Rollins headed for the perp while Fin checked on the woman who was being held hostage; she was shaking in a corner, hands and mouth duct taped. Mike, however, went straight to you.

“Are you okay?” he asked, face full of concern. He helped guide you towards the door, hands on your hips to help you walk.

You nodded. “Fine, fine. Got the vest,” you grunted, hand on place you were shot.

Mike led you down and out of the house, out onto the street. Liv read the situation and quickly came over, but you waved off her questions. Both of them guided you to a waiting ambulance, and the paramedics helped you get the vest off. They gently lifted your shirt to inspect the spot, which was already deeply bruised, a small bit of dried blood there from where the bullet broke skin.

Your face heated as you caught Mike’s eyes glued to the injury. “I’m fine, really. Just a bruise,” you muttered, trying to pull your shirt back down.

“We should take you in, make sure you didn’t break anything, or have internal bleeding,” one of the medics said.

You sighed, knowing you couldn’t argue. They helped you in the back, and you sat on the gurney.

“I’m riding with her,” Mike said to Liv. He handed her his gun before he climbed in, sitting next to you. You ducked your head in embarrassment as the doors closed and the ambulance pulled away.

******************

You sat on the hospital bed, and Mike was outside the room while you were patched up—mostly because your shirt was off. Once considered decent, though, he came in, giving the nurse a smile and nod in thanks.

“How’re you feeling?” he asked, that concern still in his eyes.

You smirked. “Like I was shot.”

Mike shook his head, grinning. “Glad to see you still have your sense of humor…. Thank you, though.”

“For what?”

“I was going to go in first, but you ran in front of me before I could stop you. In a sense, you took that bullet for me,” he explained.

You blinked at him, then blurted out, “I’d do anything for you.” Your face heated, and you dropped your eyes to the floor. “I mean, y—you’re my sergeant; of course, I’d take a bullet for you….”

“Well, I’d do anything for you, too, including taking a bullet, if it came to that,” he replied softly. At first, you thought he was just saying that. But the meaningful look he gave you made you pause. Was he saying what you thought he was?

Slowly, timidly, you reached out and took his hand in yours. He didn’t pull away; in fact, he stepped up close to you. His free hand came up to your face, and he cupped your cheek lovingly. You leaned into the touch, and his face got closer and closer—

“There you are, Mike! Benson said you were at the hospital with a detective,” a voice called from the door. Mike quickly moved away from you, dropping your hand, and you swallowed in fear as Deputy Chief Dodds stood in the doorway to your room.

He gave you a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, and you wondered how much he had seen. Then he strolled into the room, fixing his gaze onto his son.

“Uh, yeah, sorry dad. She got shot during our raid today—”

“Oh no,” he lamented, though it almost sounded sarcastic. “Well, it at least looks like you’re fine. Listen, Mike—” his eyes went back to his son’s— “I need to talk to you about an opportunity. If you’ll excuse us,” he said to you, then turned and strolled from the room.

Mike gave you an apologetic look before following his dad, closing the door behind them and leaving you alone.

***

“What the hell were you thinking?” William asked as he headed out of the hospital. “Getting close with a detective.” He said the word like an insult, and Mike flinched.

Once on the street, Mike replied, “she’s a fantastic detective, and I like her a lot. Why does my romantic life involve you?”

“Because we’ve worked too hard to get you to this position," he responded, poking Mike in the chest.

He rolled his eyes, fighting the urge to ask “we?” Instead, he said, “If I follow your plan, then I’m leaving SVU anyways. Why can’t I date her?”

“You need someone on your level, someone who’s as eye-catching as you are,” William explained. But Mike knew the truth; his father wanted him with a trophy wife, one who knew how to keep her head down and attend to her husband’s wants and desires. In other words, someone Mike wanted nothing to do with.

“With how good she is, she could make sergeant in no time,” Mike countered. He wasn’t just saying that, either; he believed it. You were incredible. He almost wanted you to go to Joint Terrorism with him, be his number two. But then, you couldn’t have a relationship together.

“Who cares about sergeant—”

“I’m a sergeant, dad.”

William waved his hand dismissively. “That’s just a placeholder until you’re lieutenant. Come on, Mike; do you really want someone with the same profession as you? Where you work late nights, weekends, holidays?” Translation; do you want someone who won’t be home to cook your meals or run the household?

“We’d have the same life experiences, we’d understand each other on a deeper level because of it,” he shot back.

William rolled his eyes. “Deeper level—”

“And I’m not going to stand here and defend her or myself from you. I’m sorry dad, but I don’t really care what you think about her. We haven’t even started dating or anything. But I’m going to go back upstairs and ask her out. I hope you can find it in yourself to come to terms with that,” Mike said before turning on his heel and marching back inside. William was too stunned to say anything back.

***

You collected all your items and were just about to leave the room when there was a knock on the door.

“Uh, come in?” you called, wondering if the nurse had more info outside of “it’ll heal on its own, but it’ll be sore for a while.”

But your stomach dropped when it was Mike peeking his head in, giving you a sheepish smile. “Uh, hey, sorry about that.”

“O-oh! No, it’s, um, it’s fine. Hopefully that was nothing too important,” you replied, laughing nervously.

Mike rubbed the back of his neck, letting out a mumble of, “no, no, it’s nothing…” before trailing off. Then he closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and looked at you intently. “Would you like to go get dinner with me? Tonight?”

You were stunned; true, you were both off after the raid—you to heal and pass a psych evaluation, and him while IAB investigated the shooting—but you never expected him to ask you out. “I—I would love that…but could we? Unless the Chief just transferred you, you’re still my boss.”

“He didn’t, but I don’t care. I’ll be leaving the squad soon enough as it is. Plus…I know you’re not seriously injured, but the thought of you being shot on the job…it worries me. I’d rather shoot my shot now, while we’re both still alive and well,” he finished.

You nodded slowly, your mind swirling. “Well…as long as neither of us will be fired over it…. I’d love to have dinner with you, Mike.”

You noticed how his eyes narrowed when you mentioned getting fired, and you wondered if the possibility never crossed his mind until you said it. He quickly masked his face with a smile, then held the door open for you.

“You won’t get fired; I’ll make sure of it,” he promised, and you wondered if it was a legit possibility. Either way, a date with Mike Dodds seemed like a good payoff. Plus, if you were fired, you could continue dating without the fear of 1PP.

[capochinootea]

How the Shishigumi met Baby Louis

Me thinks Baby Louis and Shishigumi wholesome time ^-^

Free

When Free first met Louis, it was in the middle of a shootout. He was 17. Young, brash and bold. A few weeks into the Shishigumi, and he's already considered an elite, impressing those who have climbed the ranks for longer.

It was an unfortunate time when Free was met face-to-face with a child, a herbivore child, no less. Guns drawn, ready to fire at their leader’s command. In all Free’s years of living in the Back Alley Market, this is by far, the most ridiculous thing that has ever happened.

Members of the gang yelled for back up. He was ready. Ready to take on their opponents, but what he sees is a much taller, more mature lion- Ibuki, he realizes, blocking his way, hands extended.

...What?

Confused and slightly irritated, he was handed a child and the lion left to help his comrades. Poor and confused 17-year old Free sat there, as the fawn- aged 6- he guessed- giggled at him, oblivious to the danger they’re both in.

---

Ibuki

Livestock. Ibuki never fancied the business. Even for a gangster lion like him, selling livestock- he thinks of it so immoral. You must be completely fucked down to the core if the mafioso lion has more heart than you.

When news travelled to the Shishigumi of a livestock trafficking ring not having paid their share, Ibuki breathed a sigh of relief. An excuse, he thought.

Finally.

But when he got there, it was like a place after war. It smelled of filth, abandon and decay. The building barely stands, it’s pillars a breath away from collapse.

In it lay a single fawn, blood stained but alive. A living, breathing being surrounded by death, of carcasses and corpses. The fawn looked as though he was the god of death himself, mortalized in a fragile being, cursed to wander the earth, leaving death in his footsteps.

---

Dolph

For a lion who’s lived in the market for more than 2 decades, he thought he had seen it all- the mundane, the gruesome, the ridiculous. Hell, the Shishigumi is proof of that. But somehow, not even the pole dancing mice could top this.Standing there, by the mansion’s gates was Ibuki, a sleeping fawn in his arms, bundled in his suit jacket. If he were any more shocked, his jaw might have hit the ground.

Surely the trip to the livestock trafficking ring didn’t hit Ibuki’s head. If not, then that’s probably not Ibuki at all. He was pretty damned sure that if anyone in the Shishigumi were to replace the old chief (should his ultimate demise were to ever happen- he hoped soon), it would be Ibuki.

Yet he stands there, a soft look in his eyes, the happiest he looked since he joined. He can’t help but feel dumb. The market is just full of surprises.

---

Hino

It was Wednesday night. The mansion silent and empty, its corridors barely illuminated by the hanging low light above . Almost all of the lions had left for the night, sans a few lower goons keeping watch over the gates. Sitting by the hideout’s make-shift home bar, nothing felt out of the ordinary.

He cradled the cheap whiskey in his hands and circled the drink slowly. He watched the drink as it created a mini whirlpool, his reflection on the glass.

His brows furrowed in confusion. Something was amiss. This isn’t right.

His tail moved back and forth, fur standing, mind on edge. Someone foreign was in the mansion. He continued to watch his reflection, but there was no sign of the intruder.

Too late did he realize, as a creature suddenly latched onto his leg. He would've kicked the stranger out of instinct, but when he caught a glimpse of wide ears flinching, the smell of lion on him, all sense of dread died.

Looking down, he sees a fawn, toothily grinning at him, hugging his legs like they were pillows.

“What are you doing here little guy?” Hino crouches, hands folded so as to not hurt the tiny creature.

The fawn giggled, clutching his face in his mini hands. They’re warm, he noted. .

“Mr. Lion!!” He cackled.

And like a child calling for its mother, Ibuki came running up the stairs, his glasses out of place, strands of his mane flying everywhere. He looked like hell.

“Louis!” he called and bolted right after where he sat.

Such a strange sight to see. A huge lion cradling a fawn, no bigger than Ibuki’s hands. A smile found its way to Hino’s flawless features. It’s a beautiful Wednesday night.

---

Sabu

He’s getting old, he realizes. His mane is getting harder to grow, his joints more prone to aches. He wonders if growing old is a gift, with what dangers lurking in the Back Alley Market. You’re lucky if you still have all your limbs intact by the age of 30.

Sitting by the kitchen counter, he closes his eyes. Ah, well it’s not like he could complain. In fact, he’s lucky to be alive, limbs and all.

“Up!”

He cracks one eye open.

..What?

“Up! Up!” Standing there, a creature unlike him. A fawn. No older than 6 he thinks. Clutching what he assumes is a stuffed animal, a small pout laced its face.

He had so many questions.

“Up! Up!!!” The fawn demanded, now running around, making soft tap tap taps against the floors of the mansion.

How youthful, he thought, picking up the child, giggling as his arms wrap around its tiny waist.

“Funny lion man!” it cackles, now trying to climb his head, to touch his mane. He assumes his mohawk is a different sight from what the fawn usually sees.

He still has so many questions.

He let the fawn play with his mane, not minding the strands that now fall against his face, covering his eyes.

“Ibuki!!” the tiny fawn suddenly shrieked, hurriedly trying to climb down from his now lopsided mane. He watches the young fawn dash to the other, who caught him as he propelled himself in the air.

How youthful, he thought again.

---

Miguel

It’s not like he’s not used to the fearful looks most herbivores and even the lesser carnivores give him. He’s big, brawny, a lion through and through. A literal king of the beast. To say he was used to the wary stares, the jealous glares, is the simple truth.

His footsteps alone are enough to spook a sheep down to its very core. He need not speak to intimidate a room full of hyenas, no. Even baring his fangs would be too much.

Which is why he found this whole ordeal completely and utterly ridiculous.

A tiny fawn stood before him, staring up at him. Fearless, he thinks. No! He was awestruck… mouth agape and ears perked up. He looked at him like he’s something to behold.

“Big Lion Man!!!” it cackles.

Odd..

It was so odd.

He felt his heart swell beneath the hard muscle, beneath tendons, flesh and bones. Never before has a creature looked at him with such delight. From a herbivore no less.

---

Jinma and Dope

If there’s any duo more suited to work together in the Shishigumi, the title befalls on one Jinma and Dope. Another successful negotiation. Another night of festivities.

Tonight, the table was decorated with an assortment of meals, meat cooked to perfection. A flawless buffet. An impeccable occasion.

Until Jinma caught a glimpse of movement beneath the table covers. An intruder? A spy? That’s impossible. It just is. He knows no one would have balls big enough to go alone in the Shishigumi headquarters unscathed.

He eyed the table covers with great intensity. He squints, watching the creases of the fabric, waiting to see any sign of movement. Nothing. Not until a foreign tiny hand slipped under the covers to grab a lone piece of meat sat atop the table.

In an instant, he lifted the white sheet, uncovering the thief hidden below the covers. He expected a young lowly canine, or mayhaps a racoon, only to find a giggling fawn munching on the small piece of meat he’s stolen.

“The fuck..” he heard someone mutter behind him. Dope, he thinks.

“Hello!” The young deer greeted, mouth full of meat.

This is weird.

Jinma watches as the fawn finally moves to unveil himself out of the white sheets, walking towards Dolph, who picks him up like it was something he’d done before.

This is so weird.

The two lions watch with their heads tilted to the side. Confused, they see Dolph smile at the tiny fawn he was cradling, who was still chewing the meat he’d stolen.

“The fuck” Jinma mutters.

---

Agata

“What??” Agata squawked, hands balled into a fist. How could they do this? To a lion, barely the age of 16.

“I.. I can’t! I’m not sure how to?” he countered, looking anywhere but the scene before him.

A child, clinging to the cuffs of Ibuki’s suit jacket. A fawn, 9 or 10 years old- by the looks of it.

“Agata, it will only be for an hour or two,” Dolph explained.

Like that’s going to change anything.

“But! Dolph-san, why? We don’t even know who this kid is? I mean.. Why can’t we just give him back to his parents?” He blurted.. The words left his mouth before he could process what he had just said. He prayed to whichever gods listening to him to please not make him babysit a child- and a herbivore child too!

Ibuki furrows his brows, before sharing a look with Dolph, who looks as equally as upset. A beat, and then,

“Louis stays with the Shishigumi,” Ibuki stated, like it’s the most obvious thing.

“You can’t be serious!” Agata whined, his arms flailing. It was a fight he couldn’t win. He frowned.

It didn’t take Agata more than a second to realize that his outburst had caused Louis to hide more behind Ibuki, his teeth bared, eyes burning with passionate hate.

Ah... He really did not like babysitting.

[monsterfuneral]

sparks in the rain | ch. 3

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Coming Soon

Relationship: Poly!Bill and Ted x Fem!Reader

Summary: A malfunction with the booth lands Bill and Ted into the most peculiar situation they’ve been in, stuck in the year 2021 standing in front of a woman they never thought they’d meet.

Words: 1.2

Warnings/Tags: Cursing, mentions of cheating (not on BNT’s part don’t worry), mentions of celebrity break downs, they’re having a good time :)

Author’s Note: Did I give the reader my dream apartment? Of course I did, you’re welcome. If you see any mistakes, no you didn’t

REQUESTS OPEN | MASTERLIST

(please read my “I do NOT write” section before sending in anything <3)

---

Both boys sat on the couch, shoes off, facing each other with their legs crossed as they looked around the rest of your apartment. It wasn’t messy persay, but it definitely had its own charm to it. There were various posters hung up on the walls, a black Kit-Cat clock, some streamers hanging from the ceiling, Ted guessed from a party. Red and pink beaded curtains shaped like hearts lead into the hallway that was lit up by a lava lamp that had a black base and pink and orange paraffin wax blobs moving slowly about inside the glass. There was a wreath with mushrooms on it hanging on the door, and a vase full of dying blue carnations that sat next to the heart shaped key dish on a small table. The kitchen was probably the most normal thing in your apartment, the walls held no decorations aside from a vintage looking Halloween themed calendar that was pinned on October, the rest of the kitchen was plain white with tan counters. 

Bill’s gaze was fixated on what they both assumed to be the TV, his brows furrowed as he got up from the couch in order to inspect it closer. He peered behind the TV before looking at Ted with his eyes slightly widened, as if shocked by his discovery. 

“Dude this TV totally doesn’t have an ass like mine does at home.” Bill said in slight amazement, catching the quiet laugh that filtered from the kitchen. “Are they all like this?” He asked their host who was now leaning against the entryway to her kitchen, her fingers gently wringing a black dish towel.

She hummed, considered his question before shaking her head and saying “I mean not all of them are like that, there are plenty of people who still have those heavy ass TVs.” She walked a little closer, leaning her hands on the back of the couch on the opposite side from where Ted still sat cross legged “My roommate and I were just lucky, her mom gave it to us when we moved together. She got a bigger one for her own living room and did need that one anymore.” 

Ted’s own eyes widened “Bigger?” 

“Yeah you’re telling me these things get even bigger?” Bill finished off Ted’s thought, having the same question already formed in his head. 

It was kind of charming, if not a little surprising that they didn’t already know this. Given they were time travelers and could easily go to any time period they wanted. You pushed yourself away from the back of the couch, backing away a few steps while shrugging and saying “If you didn’t know about that then I for sure have some things you guys will find interesting.” you peaked into the kitchen “But we can talk about that after we get our hot chocolate.” 

The two of them excitedly followed after you, watching as you opened one of the cabinets right next to the fridge. Almost the entirety of the cabinet was filled with different mugs. Some were plain, normal looking mugs. While the majority of mugs were obscure shapes and designs or merchandise of some kind whether for movies, shows, or even bands, it seemed like you had it all. 

“Pick whichever one you want.” 

“Oh man I don’t know how I’ll choose.” Bill muttered, moving closer with Ted who gently placed a hand against the blonde’s lower back for a few seconds as he moved closer in order to see the mugs better.

After standing around in the kitchen for fifteen minutes while they sorted through your mugs, you finally were able to go back to the living room. You kicked one of the tie-dye bean bags further away from the sofa so you could sit on it and still see the two of them better. Both boys took their spots back on the couch, Ted sitting criss-cross and holding your favorite Scream mug close to his chest. Bill sat with his back against the arm of the couch with a Spiderman head mug. He was facing the both of you with one leg propped up on the cushions, his foot pushing against Ted’s thigh and the other leg hanging off the couch.

The three of you had been sitting in the living room for a while now. The rain was pouring even harder outside but none of you cared. You shared stories back and forth, telling them how you knew who they were, which brought up the conversation as to why they kept calling you Armageddon Lady when they first saw you. 

“So… You’re telling me that in your universe I’m some really famous actress named Susie Cooper?” You tried to summarize the information both boys gave you, watching them nod excitedly before Ted said,

“Yeah basically! Except in our universe she’s, like, thirty eight.” 

“And she has a felony.” Bill added. “Unless you have a felony too, then I guess you have that in common.” 

“What?! No, I don’t have a- holy shit was not expecting that… I can’t believe she...” You let out a shocked laugh, leaning forward over your crossed legs “Wait what did she do though?” 

“Vandalism.” Ted was quick to answer “The princesses told us about it when it happened, they’re really into all the celebrity gossip stuff.” He smiled softly, looking down at the now empty mug that he still cradled in his hands, tracing the rim with his thumb. “Susie was dating this really famous drummer dude for a few years.” 

“But caught him cheating with some lady reporter.” Bill chimed.

“Yeah, so Susie had this really big freak out, showed up at one of their tour shows and totally trashed their tour bus.” Ted frowned slightly before continuing “I mean, I think the guy deserved it. Cheating is one of the most heinous things you could do to any babe.” 

Bill nodded, adding “Let alone Susie Cooper.” before taking his final drink from his mug.

“Jeez, and didn’t you say she was a child star too? Poor lady’s been through it.” 

“Yeah I’ll say.” They both agreed simultaneously, their responses meshing together. 

Ted couldn’t help but admire how well you were taking this, after the initial shock of it all, you seemed to be fine now. He could now see how truly different you were from Susie Cooper and any other character she played, you were unique to yourself, and that much was obvious with how you carried yourself. He felt more curious about you and who you were with every word you said, any gesture you made, or how you could easily joke with the both of them. Ted couldn’t help but feel drawn in by you. 

But he also knew that eventually they would have to leave, and oddly enough he feared that they wouldn’t be able to find their way back. Not ready to let this already blossoming friendship be discarded completely. So when it was time for them to leave, they had to figure out a way to come back, not wanting to just up and leave after you had been kind enough to give them shelter when you could have just easily left them in the rain to freeze. No, Ted couldn’t do that to you, and he knew Bill would feel the same.

[dionnaea]

If I Could Love You | Zeke x Reader

pairing: zeke yeager x reader

warnings: reader is magath’s daughter, smoking, angst

wc: 1.7k

a/n: kinda want to write a prequel to this? like the start of zeke and the reader’s relationship. any interest in that? also, thanks for reading!

attack on titan masterlist | general masterlist

“Welcome back, monkey man.”

The sound of your voice tumbled into Zeke’s ears, a jumble of longing, elation, and teasing all mixed into your tone. You had been waiting for him, he knew. He knew before he even stepped out onto the balcony that you were standing there, and he knew that he shouldn’t have let himself step out in the first place. Choosing the safest option on this dangerous encounter, he ignored you. But when you said his name, his head immediately turned so that his eyes could meet yours. 

He was met with a cloud of smoke, and when it cleared, your grin stared back at him, cigarette hanging from your fingers. He left his face blank, seemingly unamused by your tricks, and turned back around, taking a few steps forward until he could lean on the railing. 

You were quick, though, and twisted your body in one fluid motion so that your back was pressing against the metal railing and your feet were crossed as you placed most of your weight on one leg. Zeke was used to this by now, and didn’t spare you a glance as he himself hunched over to rest against his forearms. 

The night sky in front of him was dark, only a few stars untouched by the light pollution of the city. In the distance, he could see the beginning of the sea, a black abyss promising the unknown. He could feel your eyes on him, hear the sounds of you sucking tobacco into your lungs and blowing it back out. The heat that waved off of your body was smothering, and Zeke didn’t know if the air was getting caught in his chest because of that or the smoke. 

“Those things will kill you,” he stated. 

“Sure,” you shrugged. “But won’t just about everything?” You took another puff, lightly pushing the exhaled smoke towards Zeke. He brought his hand up and swiped it away. Annoyance played on his features, but you knew that you weren’t really bothering him. “What’s up with you?”

Your gaze was studious, and Zeke knew you were trying to gain any hint of insight from his subtle reactions. He remained stoic, repressing the downturn his lips so desperately wanted to perform. He was well aware that you’d catch him if he even attempted to lie so instead he remained silent, letting you dissect him all you wanted but knowing you would find nothing. 

“Zeke,” you sighed and for some reason it was more exasperated than disappointed. You lifted your free hand up, brushing it side to side. “I get it. You’ve been at war. You’ve seen things. You’re sad or angry or whatever the hell you are. So what? I don’t care. Stop acting like a baby and talk to me.” 

Your words, your tone, was harsh, but coming from you, Zeke knew it was gentle. He knew you meant it all in the best way possible, knew you just longed for his attention, knew all you wanted was to be with him, and that killed him. That knowledge killed him in the most delicious way. Your existence was sugar laced with poison, and still, Zeke kept consuming you like it was the last meal he’d ever eat.

Which quite possibly, it was. 

“Don’t you know how to leave a man alone?” He was fighting a smile, you could tell. 

“Absolutely not,” you replied, shifting your position so that you leaned on only one arm and your whole body faced him. His mouth had formed a small grin, but he still wasn’t looking at you, choosing the darkness rather than the light right beside him. “Zeke. Look at me?” 

There was an unspoken ‘please’ on the end of your sentence, a light desperation dancing across your tongue. He was hopeless, absolutely hopeless, Zeke lamented as he turned only his head to finally meet your stare. Your eyes were pools of liquid, a shine on them as if you were fighting off tears. But no, Zeke realized, it was the moonlight dancing off of your irises, creating shadows of your eyelashes that rested along your cheeks. 

You breathed a sigh of relief and offered the cigarette to the man, dangling it between your dainty fingers so lightly that Zeke was scared it would fall. He closed the distance between the two of you, pulling the drug into his lungs until he could breathe no more before tilting away and blowing the smoke behind him. The wind picked up in that moment, aiding the smoke’s departure but cursing Zeke as your sweet scent wafted into his nose. It filled up his head, dizzying him until he was able to breath fresh air again. 

He dared to look back down at you, and for the first time in months, truly took you in. You were wearing pajamas, the strap of your camisole loose as it rested on the curve of your shoulder. There was lace on the front, enticing his eyes to glance where they shouldn’t. Your shorts were a bit too short, and your legs looked a bit too soft. As his eyes grazed back up your figure, he was met with a soft upturn of your lips, pink and plush and begging for his own.

It was obvious, you made it obvious, that you wanted him in whichever way he would give himself to you. It had always been like this, you opening yourself up fully and gladly taking whatever pieces of himself that Zeke would give you. You had roped him into a game through sweet smiles and subtle glances, and it seemed every time he felt like he understood the rules, you changed them. You were not something to be understood, you were something to be chased, to be longed for, to be loved, and Zeke cursed himself for not being able to do all three. 

“I know what you’re thinking,” you started, dropping the cigarette and pointing at it with your bare toes. Zeke obliged your silent request, stomping it out with his boot before kicking it in between the wooden slats. “You’re thinking that you shouldn’t, that it isn’t right or that it isn’t worth it.” You bit your lip, eyebrows furrowing, and Zeke couldn’t help but like the way little wrinkles appeared along your forehead. “But I’m telling you now that it is, okay? Just… just trust me for once.” 

That was the problem, Zeke thought, he always trusted you. He put too much faith in your reassurances and let himself fall too deeply into your fantasies. Thinking about it, Zeke realized that you were exactly like the sea: something he would inevitably drown in in search for answers and a warm embrace. You were a known unknown entity, and that scared Zeke more than he could express in words. 

Remaining silent, Zeke lifted his hand, and you froze in anticipation of what he would do. Gently, he brushed his calloused fingers against your upper arm, lightly pushing your camisole strap back up so that it rested properly against your collarbone. Your body involuntarily shivered, and chillbumps dusted across your skin. You waited with held breath, his fingers resting against the curve of your neck. After a moment of reverie, Zeke brought himself back to reality and pulled away. To your surprise, he shrugged off his jacket, casting it over your shoulders and waiting until you had thread your arms through the much too long sleeves before saying anything. 

“The armband doesn’t suit you.” His words were firm, almost angry. 

The weight of the band burned into your being, but you kept your eyes locked with his. “It doesn’t suit you either.” Zeke was well aware that you were dead serious, an anomaly in your family when it came to compassion. “Is this…” You already knew the answer, you had asked a million times. “Is this about my father?” 

Zeke sighed, running a tense hand through his hair and turning away once more, resting back onto the railing. He didn’t know why you asked when you already knew the answer, but he supposed that a small part of you kept the hope that someday something would change. It wouldn’t. 

“Why?” Your volume rose. “Why? It doesn’t have to be! Why do you let it!” It wasn’t even a question at that point. It was just a statement, an indisputable fact that Zeke’s future was decided by everyone but himself. 

“Zeke.” 

He gave a noncommittal hum in response. 

“Do you think I’m an idiot?” 

He could hear the anger in your voice, the frustration, but he also heard something else. Sadness? Loneliness? 

He wasn’t given a chance to respond before you were speaking again. “I know you’re leaving. You’re going to Paradis, and you’re going to fight back against Marley, and then you’re going to die. Maybe not even in that order.” You took a deep breath in and reached out, placing a soft hand on the side of Zeke’s face and turning it until his grey eyes were forced to look into yours. He automatically leaned into your touch. “So tell me this: With how much you’ve given up in your life, why are you still choosing to give up me?” 

There was pain dancing across your face, and suddenly Zeke didn’t think those forehead wrinkles were as cute. He had underestimated you as he always did, and was once again stuck in your crosshairs, having to make the decision of trying to run or giving himself up completely. His entire being begged him to do the latter. 

Because for Zeke, you meant more than every war combined. You meant more than most everything. But you didn’t mean more than his conviction, and he was a very stubborn man. So when you asked him to stay, even offered to come with him, he had to refuse. 

That night, Zeke realized something. Until that moment when your heart shattered and your face hardened over, you had always been known. You had never changed the rules, only adapted them so that you could be with him for just a little bit longer. All you had wanted was to love him. 

And the one time you had asked him to love you back, he had said no. 

[jayeray-hq]

How He Shows You Affection: Ushijima Wakatoshi

This is a another repost to get this one to show up in the tags! Thank you to everyone who found it through the masterlist! You all are amazing! Notes: 72

Post Time Skip/Manga Ending Spoilers!

Warnings: None all fluff!

How He Shows You Affection Masterlist - Character Masterlist

He Does Little Things to Make Life Easier for You

            You woke up feeling a bit groggy, unsure just how or when exactly you’d fallen asleep. However, once you’d gotten your bearings a bit you quietly cursed yourself for allowing to happen, glancing at your phone and wincing as you registered what time it was. You’d had a lot to get done today and now more than half the day was gone. You’d only meant to sit down for a second and rest your eyes as you waited for the dishwasher to finish, but you must’ve accidentally dozed off.

In hindsight it probably wasn’t that surprising you’d fallen asleep. It had been a really long week at work, you’d been putting in extra hours, and had come home almost every night exhausted. It meant you’d been putting off your chores, all of which you’d meant to do today, on your only day off. The laundry in particular had been incredibly important as your clean clothes situation had become rather dire, but you’d fallen asleep before you could get to it.

            Even worse you’d wanted to get it done early because your boyfriend was going to be home later, and you desperately wanted to be able to spend your evening relaxing with him. Unfortunately, it looked like that wasn’t going to be happening now.

            Heaving a sigh, you stood, figuring there was no use crying over spilled milk, and that you might as well get to work. Especially if you wanted to have that nice dinner done you’d planned for when Ushijima got home. Only to pause in surprise as something fell away from your shoulders.

            You stooped and picked the familiar fabric off the ground, and immediately recognized it as your boyfriend’s Adlers jacket, the same one he’d worn out of the house that morning which meant…

            “Wakatoshi?” you asked curiously, as you cradled the jacket to your chest.

            “I’m here,” the low deep rumble of your boyfriend’s voice was both familiar and incredibly soothing, and you couldn’t help the smile that broke over your face at the sight of him, clearly recently showered, dressed in sweats and a t-shirt.

            “You’re home early,” you told him crossing the room eagerly to wrap your arms around him, burying your face in his strong, warm chest.

            “Coach let us go early,” he explained accepting your embrace with ease and folding you into his arms.

            “Did you have a good practice?” you asked, slowly pulling away from him after taking a few minutes to just soak up his warmth and presence.

            “It was adequate,” he told you, which you assumed meant yes, his eyes fond as his large hands lingered gently on your hips, not letting you pull away entirely just yet.

            “I was just going to start dinner for us,” you informed him with a smile, “Just let me finish up a few things and I’ll get right to it.”

            “Is there anything I can do?” he asked gently.

            “No, no I’ve got this,” you assured him firmly. After all the two of you usually split chores fairly evenly, and he’d already done his, it wouldn’t be fair to ask him to do yours as well.

            However, when you went to check your hamper, all your clothes were gone, and a quick peek showed that there were loads of laundry in both the washer and the dryer, both running. The bathroom was also cleaner than you remembered it being that morning, and the dishwasher had been emptied, the dishes put away.

            Your heart melted as you realized your boyfriend had apparently taken it upon himself to do it for you, and when you returned to the kitchen and found him quietly pulling out some of the things you’d need to make dinner you couldn’t help yourself diving back into his arms.

            “Is everything all right?” he asked, clearly a little concerned.

            “It’s perfect,” you assured him affectionately, feeling like a weight had lifted you’re your shoulders, “Thank you.”

            “You’re welcome,” he told you pressing his cheek to your hair and cradling you close, making you sigh contentedly. You really did have the best boyfriend.

 He Makes Time For You

            Despite your feelings you’d managed to keep your perfect customer service smile pasted to your face throughout the party, nursing a glass of wine you hadn’t even bothered to touch, but held on to, to keep anyone from trying to get you another drink. It had been a rather horrid night, and you definitely didn’t want to be here, especially since, for the first time in a long time you’d had to come alone.

            Normally at these mandatory office parties you at least had your boyfriend with you. Ushijima, with his strong, calm presence and a stoicism and intimidating mien that managed to keep all but the most determined or familiar away from you, was a blessing at times like this. Unfortunately, he’d had a game, which while fairly close by was still over an hour away, and he wouldn’t be back until later that night.

            You honestly missed him dreadfully. Just his reassuring presence always helped to take the edge off your anxiety at times like these. Still he had his job, one that he truly loved with all his being and you’d never want to take him away from it, especially not for something as silly as an office party.

            Still you couldn’t help your grimace as one of your male coworkers, who’d been giving you the eye all night, and who regularly stood just a little too close, and lingered by your desk just a little too long slowly approached you. You braced yourself, fully ready to face the unpleasant conversation and hopefully send him on his way politely.

            However less than a few feet away from you his eyes suddenly darted to something behind you, and he quickly made a beeline around, clearly pretending he’d never been heading in your direction in the first place. You frowned in confusion, but were quickly jolted out of it, by the feeling of a large, warm hand on the small of your back.

            You turned, a frown on your face, ready to tell off whichever jerk dared put his hands on you, that you had a boyfriend and to leave you alone, only to find your boyfriend there looking down at you with a soft look on his face.

            “Wakatoshi?” you asked a little disbelieving, blinking several times to ensure he wasn’t an illusion of some kind, dreamt up by your wishes for his presence, but no he was still there, his hand warm and grounding, “What are you doing here?”

            “I always come to your office parties,” he told you a slightly puzzled frown on his lips.

            “I know,” you assured him an amused smile tugging your lips, “But didn’t you have a game?”

            “It’s finished,” he affirmed, then added unnecessarily, “We won.”

            “I know,” you told him with an amused smile, “I watched what I could of the game before coming. You managed to finish before I had to leave. I sent you a text.”

            “I saw,” he assured you a fond smile tugging slightly at the corners of his mouth, his eyes soft, “Thank you.”

            “You’re welcome,” you told him a bit bemused, “But that still doesn’t explain how you’re here. The game was over an hour away.”

            “I left right after,” he explained casually.

            “Wakatoshi you didn’t have to,” you exclaimed startled, especially since you knew leaving right after meant he’d skipped the victory celebrations with his team and gotten a cab back instead of taking the team bus.

            “I wanted to,” he stated firmly, in a way that left no room for arguments, “I never miss your office parties.”

            The sentiment behind the words honestly made your heart melt. Ushijima wasn’t the best with expressing his feelings verbally, but at times like this, when he even cut his volleyball activities short you could almost palpably feel how much he loved you, to put you over his favorite activity, even if it was only a little bit, it honestly meant the world to you.

            “Thank you for being here,” you told him, figuring there really was no other response, at least none that would be appropriate in this setting, though you made a note to show him how much you appreciated it when you got home.

            “Of course,” he answered firmly, as if there had never been any doubt, as if there was nowhere in the world he’d rather be then right by your side.

 He Buys Little Things That Remind Him of You

            “Oh Ushiwaka whatcha lookin’ at?” Tendou asked curiously peering over his friend’s shoulder so he could see the display that the large former Ace of Shiratorizawa was studying so intently. His lips quirked in amusement as he saw what had captured the stoic man’s attention, a rather adorable display of plush toys

            “Are you expecting?” he asked eagerly.

            “I’m not expecting anything,” Ushijima told him a slight frown on his face, clearly perplexed by the question.

            “No, no, no I mean is your girlfriend expecting?” he tried again shifting eagerly from foot to foot.

            “No, she never expects anything,” his friend and former captain told him completely honestly, his face softening at the mere mention of his beloved who was back home in Japan while he and his team were in France for a game, “But these are very cute.”

            “They are,” Tendou agreed nodding sagely, he never would’ve expected the man to be so sentimental and to think such things about toys like that, but well, you learned something new everyday.

            “She is also very cute,” Ushiwaka murmured more to himself than to Tendou, before nodding firmly and making his way into the store, clearly intent on buying one for his girlfriend, leaving a dumbstruck Tendou behind wondering if he should stop him or not but in the end decided to let the man make his own mistakes.

            Several days later, back in Japan you opened another package from your boyfriend and stared at its contents, more than a little dumbfounded. These little gifts from Ushijima had been arriving nearly every day since he left, nothing too big or expensive, mostly small interesting things that he claimed in his daily chats ‘reminded him of you.’

            However staring at this latest gift you had to wonder if maybe he was trying to send you a message of some sort. After all was there any other reason to have sent you what was admittedly, a rather adorable plush baby toy, with a tag in the ear whose French you’d painstakingly translated into “congratulations it’s a boy!”

            It left you rather dumbfounded, however, luckily you didn’t need to ask more than why he’d bought it for you for him to explain, and you never had to tell him that he’d given you a baby toy of all things. However, the small gift did find its way into your daughter’s crib several years down the line, so it certainly never went to waste.

[mochegato]

Hope on Board

Chapter 6 – Everything Happens in Its Own and Usually Most Inconvenient Possible Time

Chapter 1     Chapter 5

The gala was going better than anticipated.  Despite feeling like she stuck out like weed in a field of flowers, things seemed to be going well.  Marinette had talked with more people than she could remember and they all seemed to walk away happily and interested in her work except for a few pompous assholes who couldn’t keep their eyes off her growing chest.  Admittedly, she was showing more cleavage than she anticipated, but she was blaming that on the baby that was enlarging her chest already.

Luckily, she had Adrien to watch out for her and keep them from doing anything more than just look. More importantly, Tim seemed impressed with her designs for the gala and could pick out the outfits that were hers. That was two big checks for the night. The rest of her life might be going to hell, but at least this night was going smoothly.

Whereas she felt like she was an imposter in the ranks, Adrien seemed to blend into the crowd seamlessly. Laughing sensibly at the right times, sharing knowing looks that confused Marinette with the other party goers, smiling politely at the right bad jokes.  He led her to the right people to get to know and whispered in her ear the right things to say to them.

She watched Adrien flourish and felt a twinge of guilt.  This was the product of his dad.  She was benefitting from Gabriel’s abuse toward Adrien.  She grabbed Adrien’s arm to get his attention and looked up at him with sad eyes.  He gave her a soft smile and excused them politely from the conversation they were in. “It’s okay, Mari.  I’m okay,” he assured her.  He looked back out to the crowd.

“How about a fun one next?” he urged her.  

Marinette gave him a halfhearted smile and nodded.  If he could do this then so could she.  He was doing this for her.  She could hold up her end.  She nodded and smiled politely at people as she passed.  One woman lit up at her so Marinette stopped to talk to her, letting Adrien continue on without her.  After a very amusing conversation with a breath of fresh air named Selina Kyle, Marinette searched for Adrien in the crowd.  Luckily, he hadn’t wandered too far away.  She caught his attention and he turned to her with a wide smile.

“And this is Marinette Dupain-Cheng.  Marinette, this is Richard Grayson.”

Marinette looked over to the new man, still trying to keep all the names of people she had met already. There were too many names.  There was no way she was going to remember this new person’s name.  She looked in the new man’s eyes… familiar eyes and a familiar but strained smile. Why were those eyes familiar? “Fuck…” Marinette let out before she could stop herself.

Adrien froze.  Richard froze.  That name wasn’t right.  That definitely wasn’t the name he had given her.  Did he give her a fake name?  

“Uh, hi.” Dick offered with a strained smile.  “It’s nice to meet you. Dick Grayson.”  He wasn’t sure what their relationship was, but if she was in a relationship with Adrien, he wasn’t going to intentionally destroy it despite the twinge in his heart. That would explain the hasty exit from his apartment though.

“He is Bruce Wayne’s son,” Adrien gently reminded her, “Tim’s brother.”  

“Fuck!” Marinette groaned out louder. Tears were starting to appear in her eyes.  This could not be happening.  Not here.  Not now. She was not prepared for this conversation.  She was supposed to be networking for her job, for the partnership and her store. She did not have time for this!  Why now.  Why after all their searching and attempts to retrace her steps did it have to happen now?

He was Tim’s brother and Bruce Wayne’s son.  One of, if not the richest man in the world and the current holder of her exclusive contract.  Dick was going to hate her.  He was going to think she trapped him into this.  He was going to think she was a manipulative bitch who shouldn’t be allowed to raise children and take the baby away and never let her see it.  She would only get to see him or her or them whenever Richard took them out in public.  The baby was going to get a new mother and would call her ‘Maman’.  And what if that new mom didn’t like having a stepchild?  What if she didn’t love them like they deserved?  What if they thought Marinette didn’t want them?

“Are you okay?” Adrien asked quietly.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Marinette exclaimed shaking her hands to release anxiety.  She could no longer breathe and tears were starting to gather in the corner of her eyes.

“Mari?” Adrien looked between Marinette and Richard a few times before a realization set in.  “Oh my God.  He said his name was Dick.  It’s him! It’s ladybug shirt guy!” He said with a smile.  “We found him!  I’m telling Chloe.  She is going to die.”

“No!” Marinette jumped at him to grab his phone, attracting the attention of the people around them. But at this point, Marinette no longer cared.  She had more important things to focus on.

“Well, I have more mingling to do and you,” he pushed Marinette toward Dick hard enough for her to stumble and Dick to reach out and steady her, “have some talking to do.  Good luck.  I won’t go too far.  Let me know if you need me… for anything...”  He looked at Marinette sincerely with his last statement before giving Dick a less friendly look.  “… anything at all.”

Marinette looked up at Dick through her lashes.  Her fear was radiating out of her and it made Dick want to wrap her up and hold her until she smiled.  “How… how have you been?”

Marinette looked around them noticing now close everyone was and a few people who were leaning back expressly to eavesdrop.  She eyed them warily and responded loudly enough for them to hear, “We haven’t caught up in a bit.  Let’s go somewhere and talk where the music isn’t so loud.”

Dick followed her eyes and nodded, leading her out of the ballroom and into the closed section of the manor.  He could feel the apprehension as she walked, making him nervous as well.  He didn’t know what was about to happen but he could tell it was significant.  He just didn’t know if it was good significant or bad significant.

“We should be good here. Nobody but family is allowed back here.” He looked around anxiously as if to confirm, but really it was just something for him to do, something to focus on besides her.  “I was hoping to talk to you after… after that night but realized I didn’t get your number.  I tried going back to the club to look for you, but...”

“It closed.  Yeah… I tried going back to the club, too.” Dick brightened up at that.  She had searched for him too.  It wasn’t just him that wanted to try for something more.  “I wanted to maybe just show up at your door, but I think I was still drunk when I left and…,” she scrunched up her face in uncertainty, “I saw all the weapons on the counter and when I heard you waking up in the bedroom, I just ran.  I didn’t pay attention to where I was.  And then I thought about the weapons and thought… maybe I shouldn’t.”

The realization hit Dick and he cursed under his breath.  He was going to kill Jason.  “My brother is paranoid, Jason not Tim, who you apparently know.  Living in Gotham is bad enough but he… we get targeted a lot so he… those were his weapons, not mine.  I swear.  None of them were mine and they normally aren’t even there, I just wouldn’t let them take them to the club,” he rushed out to try to assure her.  

Her eyes searched his. He held his breath praying she found what she was looking for, or not finding it, depending on the question she was trying to answer.  Whichever answer let him talk to her again, he hoped she found it.  After a few moments, she must have found some answer because she gave him a weak smile and nodded slightly.  Dick let out the breath he had been holding.  She didn’t seem entirely convinced, but Dick would take it. He could work with it if she gave him a chance.  He nervously rubbed the back of his neck.  Now he had a chance, what was he going to do with it?  “So… how have you been?”

“Pregnant,” Marinette answered quickly, instantly regretting not saying it more sensitively, easing him into the realization.  She had freaked out, it stood to reason that he would as well.

Dick’s eyes widened in shock and his breath shortened.  He looked down to her belly and back up to her face.  A look of panic was plastered on his face.  He was not ready.  How did it even happen?  He thought they had used precautions.  And he had provided the condom and put it on so it wasn’t as though she could have sabotaged anything.  Holy shit! He was going to be a dad.  How was he going to balance that?  How was he going to be a dad and Nightwing? Shit!  He couldn’t take care of himself.  How was he supposed to take care of a child?  He was pretty sure they ate more than cereal.

“I’m so sorry!” Marinette rushed out seeing his whole body going into shock.  “I’m so very, very sorry!  I swear I don’t expect anything.  I don’t… I didn’t… This wasn’t on purpose.  I swear!  I wasn’t trying to get pregnant.” Tears were now freely falling down her cheeks and marring her dress.  Thank God she had waterproof mascara but the water stains were still making their mark.

“How…”

She chuckled mirthlessly. “Did you know semen leaks out before the… end?  Cuz’ I didn’t.” She wiped tears away as she spoke.  “Or rather I did, I just didn’t think it was enough to do anything.  But, if you’re truly lucky, that’s enough.  So if you wait to put a condom on until just before… the end, you can still get pregnant.”

“And you… you’re sure…” He didn’t know how to ask the question tactfully.

She drew a sharp breath and looked down wiping away a few more tears.  “Yeah.  I… I broke up with my boyfriend a little under a year ago.  There… um… there hasn’t been anyone else since then.”  

He nodded dumbly.  That was pretty conclusive.  Unless there was a sudden case of immaculate conception going on, that was his baby.  “Okay.”

She turned her eyes to him, her expression somber.  “I didn’t… I don’t expect you to do anything, not participation, not child support, nothing. I just… I thought you deserved to know even if you don’t want to be involved and I understand if this is too much for you.”

Dick looked up at her in surprise.  She was giving him an out.  She wasn’t expecting him to be a dad and help take care of them.  But for some reason, that realization only made his heart clench tighter.  Did he want an out?  Did he want to miss out on his child’s upbringing?  All of their firsts?  Their first step.  Their first summersault.  Their first word.  Their first laugh.  Their first breath.  

He didn’t.  He didn’t want to miss out on those things.  He pulled himself out of his spiral to see Marinette starting to turn away to leave.  He reached out and grabbed her hand before she could get too far away and pulled her into his chest, hugging her tightly.  “I want to be involved.  I want to be there.  I want to help.”  She froze for a few seconds before hugging him back just as strongly.  Her crying increased in his arms and he held her through it.  He wouldn’t let her go through any part of this alone, not anymore.

“I don’t know what you need, but I want to help provide it for you and… and our baby,” he said gently, pulling away just enough to wipe away her tears.  

She nodded at him, turning her eyes up to match his.  Dick felt his chest tighten.  Her eyes were glassy with tears but still gorgeous and captivating.  He moved the hand wiping the tears to cup her face. His thumb gently stroked her cheek. He leaned down toward her but her hand clasped over her lips before his lips could reach them, blocking his way. Her eyes bugged out and she ran to the trash can before throwing up.

“Oh my god,” she groaned, collapsed on the floor next to the trash can.  “And morning sickness has officially begun.  And it’s early.  Just so much luck.”  She looked up at him with an apologetic smile.  “Sorry you had to see that.”

Dick chuckled lightly, “Well, I did want to be there for all the firsts.  Come on,” he gently grabbed her hands to help her up, “let’s get you some water to rinse out your mouth and cleaned up a bit.  If you want to stay, I’d love to escort you around.  If you’d like to go home and rest, I’d love to take you home.  If you want to go somewhere and talk, I’d love to take you wherever you want.  But either way, can I get your phone number… and last name?  I want to help figure things out with you.  Maybe… if you’re interested… maybe go on a first date?  If you want to try for a relationship…. I mean… I understand if you don’t want to risk…”  

His stuttering cut off when she started giggling.  He looked up to match her eyes, a look of hope finally finding their way back into them. “I would really like that, too. And it’s Dupain-Cheng.  Marinette Dupain-Cheng.  It’s nice to officially meet you, Dick Grayson.”

Chapter 7

Tags:

@dickinette-february @demonicbusiness @ichigorose @iloontjeboontje

[insufferablelust]

you and spencer teasing each other all day at work to see who breaks first and it ends with you and him have some rough sexy times in an empty office 🥵 (it do be horny hours rn)

if it isn’t one of my favorite tumblr accounts ever! such an honor to write this! i changed some stuff and its super long i know:( but hopefully you’ll still like it! thank you for requesting bub! i love you! (and yes HORNY HOURS = every hour basically for me)

OKAY WARNINGS BE RESPONSIBLE : THIS IS SMUT basically just porn, Semi-Public sex, exhibitionism, degradation, Dom!Spencer, Sub!reader, Fluff!!, Unprotected sex (don’t you dare!), um what else.. uh oh! bratty!reader, vibrating panties?, and some sprinkle of curious Prentiss + Garcia duo! as always excuse my grammatical errors, thank you.

Happy Reading, please feel free to send me more requests, Smut, fluff, angst, whichever you like! ❤️

it started out silly, you and Spencer have been together for a year now, after you joined the BAU, your fascination grew quickly for the doctor, the way he talk, the way he stuck out his lip when he concentrates, the way his fingers move when he’s explaining about quantum physics, and the way his stares could easily make someone give up control easily.

And lucky you, 5 months into the job it turns out that Spencer is equally smitten when it comes to you, the way you gaze up at him shyly, the way you can go from a tiny cute kitten to a mother lion, the way you run your mouth sometimes makes him want to shut you up, preferably with his lips against yours. As if you were both have always been meant to be, he sealed the relationship and now it has been going on for about a year.

Right from the beginning of your relationship, it’s always been clear that you’re the submissive out of the two, you both switch sometimes, but most of the time he loves the thrill and feeling of taking control over you, dominate you in smallest ways possible. Like picking what you wear sometimes, braiding your hair when you go out, setting up your bed time because you won’t sleep otherwise and you both need to works. Since you live together, in this household what Spencer Reid said goes, and you’re content with that, relinquishing control after days of catching serial killers and filling out paperworks feels so good and you definitely love when he takes care of you.

But when there’re rules, there are punishments. Now you see, you can get really bratty when you want to be, sometimes it’s not even intentional, maybe you have had a bad day and been snapping at your coworkers all day, at one time even snapped at Spencer when you were on a case, of course spencer won’t let that behavior slide so right after the case, let’s just say that you limped your way to the bullpen the very next day. Yet there are also times when you just act bratty on purpose, defying him, rolling your eyes, interrupt his ramblings, even tease him under the table during dinner- now that, that is the behavior that never fails to earn you the best nights of your lives.

And its an advantage for you when he proposed the idea, right on your anniversary eve. Spencer just finished showering as he entered the bedroom to find you reading one of Rossi’s newest book, he chuckled softly as he put on his pajamas and lays down next to you that cause you to immediately put down the book cuddle close to him. You glanced towards the analog clock beside Spencer as it read 23:55 on it, “it’s 5 minutes until—“

“Our anniversary, I know baby.” He interrupts, as he wrap his arms around you and placing soft kisses all over your face. “Do you know, astronomers estimates that there are about 100 thousand stars in the Milky Way alone?” He randomly mumbled, earning himself a giggle, as you softly ran your palm up and down his cheeks, “and your point being, Dr.Reid?”

“Oh I don’t know, if god is in fact real, I’m just grateful that the universe give me the brightest most powerful star amongst all. I mean isn’t that something?” He chuckled, looking down at you- directly at your eyes.

You feel your lips wobbled as a tear threaten to slip out of your eyes, before sniffling “hey, hey baby, why are you crying? Did I said something wrong” he worriedly placed leans on his elbow, lay you down on your pillows.

“No you dumb genius, I just love you so much and I don’t know what to do with it” You pouts as you hear him laughing the infamous Spencer’s laugh before leaning down to kiss your lips hungrily, cupping your jaw, and tangle your tongues together.

Your fingers manage to grip his hair, as you pull him off, gulping down a deep breath “w-were you trying to kill me?” To which he laughed and shrug “I was just showing you what to do with it, (y/n)”

“Mmm You can definitely show me more than that... sir” and with that his whole demeanor changes, like staring into a different person, you bit your lip in anticipation, feeling his palm roams up your sides, whilst his lip graze across your skin delicately- almost like he’s taunting you. Just as he was about to kiss you, he pulled back and grin,

“Is that so, love? I have a different idea in mind though” He smiles at your agape jaw, and the curiosity that’s glimmering through those glassy eyes, Spencer is a genius— you’re always excited on what he have in store for you in that brilliant mind of yours.

“May I know what it is, Dr.Reid?” Your heart flutter as you see him smiling, meaning he’s pleased with the way you asked. “You’ve been good for me, but i hope you haven’t forget that little stunt you pulled a week ago, i certainly haven’t, sweetheart.”

Your heart dropped as your thighs clenched together, a week ago right before a case, you were bratty, teased Spencer the whole day, from rubbing him underneath the table, and even pretended that you’ve dropped your fork so you can bend down. He was planning to pull you over his lap then and there but the plan got canceled right as Garcia announced that the LAPD needs them on a double homicide case. You honestly thought he has forgotten about it, but you cursed internally as you remember that your boyfriend has an eidetic memory.

“Oh look at you, your lips goes pale then you’re visibly shuddering. What? Don’t say you’ve forgotten about it”

“N-no sir! Its just that... I, are you going to punish me?”

“No, at least not until tomorrow night. How about, we play a little game?” He suggested, as he brush his thumb on your lower lip, and you suckle on it as a sign of agreement.

“Tomorrow, unless a case comes up, we’re both allowed to tease each other starting from the moment we wake up until we comes home from work. Whoever break first, looses and have to do everything the other person asks for the night plus the whole next day.”

If your panties wasn’t soaked already, it definitely is now. You shudder and nod in response, sucking his thumb contently before popping them out of your mouth “yes please sir, I would like that.”

“Good girl, now lay back and let’s savor tonight before we torture each other tomorrow.”

And at that, your anniversary night was perfect.

————— next morning

The first thing on your mind today is that it’s going to be sucks, waking up to your boyfriend nibbling the reminiscent of the last night’s marks on your neck is certainly not the way to go for you— not if you want to win this.

So like a good girl that you are, you push Spencer lightly so he’s laying on his back and straddle his hips, an innocent smile displayed on your face as you lightly grind your hips down— feeling him harden underneath you.

“Y/n, it’s not fair” the way his morning voice sounds makes you clench at nothing, fluttering your eyes shut before letting out an over exaggerated whimper “but you never said there are any rule but to have an actual sex and we aren’t having sex right now, aren’t we sir?” You batted your eyelash at him as you lick your lips slowly.

Spencer grunts, before gripping your hips and threw you onto the bed— his hand immediately settled itself on your neck, fingers right on top of your pulse pressing down. “Fine, kitten. You wanna play that way? we’ll play that way, but just know that i will always win so be ready to get ruined tonight” your parted your lips due to the lack of oxygen, letting out a bratty remark “Talk is c-cheap, sir”

Spencer’s eyes fluttered shut as he try to compose himself, but then he realized how you’re playing the game— he’s damn good at his job after all. So when you thought he was loosing it, he kept his calm and get off of you, before pressing a soft kiss on your cheeks.

“Happy anniversary baby, I love you. Let’s get ready for work okay?” and at that he’s walking to the shower, leaving you breathless and confused. Your hand itching to slip itself between your thighs, god you are soaking.

————

After an excruciatingly long shower and breakfast, you headed upstairs to change your clothes. As you were about to open your closet, Spencer calls you from the bedroom.

“Y/n, i want you to wear this today.”

You stepped into the bedroom as you see the outfit he laid on the bed, casual work outfit, a blouse, coat, and dress skirt— but what you see next is what makes your jaw dropped. The damn panties. For your 6 month anniversary, Spencer got you two sets of vibrating panties, the one he can actually control with his cellphone, now you’ve wore it dozens of times but never on the job, and definitely not when you’re in some type of game like this.

“Spencer that’s not fair!” You whined loudly and cross your arms in front of your chest, knowing damn well that if you wear the panties, you’ll lose immediately.

“But just like you said, No rules right? so as far as i’m concerned you’ll still obey every command i give you unless you safe word, isn’t that right baby?” Oh the bastard is definitely smug now,

“y-yes! but—“

“ah ah rules are rules princess, so unless you say the word, put on the damn panties and address me properly, it’s doctor or sir.” You’re definitely loosing but you damn will go down fighting.

————

Your team definitely realized that something is up between you and spencer, it’s 10 now and you’ve both been on your phones all day, Emily even noticed how you kept bang your knee against the desk today, which earned her a smile from you and a whisper of “oh just nervous tics” If only she knows how cruel these stupid panties are, you thought.

Spencer may have the upper hand but you certainly doesn’t make it easy for him either, every so often you will pass by his desk, and pretend to bend over to pick something you ‘accidentally dropped’ or rubbing his bulge underneath the table as you went to a nearby cafe for lunch with Morgan and Prentiss. and you can’t forget how flushed he becomes when you call him ‘Dr.Reid’ almost every time you talk to him. At one point you got him so good that he’s this close to pinning you on the nearest wall and just have his way with you. But Spencer is not one to lose, and you knows that better than anyone.

As the night comes, you and Spencer are right on the edge— just wanting to literally tear each other’s clothes off. Most of the people are already gone, That being JJ who left early because Henry is sick, Hotch and Rossi were on a meeting downstairs and Morgan got a date. Lastly, Penelope and Emily is picking up a classified unsolved murder case file from the police department, which meant you and spencer has approximately an hour before Hotch and Rossi finishes their meetings or Penelope and Emily went back.

Of course, Spencer caught on that too, that’s why you’re struggling to not moan due to the immense pleasure you’re feeling between your thighs, all day today he never set the settings to the highest level because he may be cruel but he knows your limit— but now, now is the perfect time to win.

Your legs starts to shake feeling yourself getting so close that you know you can’t take it anymore. Shakily reaching your phone, you typed in a message quickly,

“You win. The empty office near storage, now” you typed in quickly, dragging yourself to the office near Garcia’s den and leaning against the desk, muttering curses of swear words.

“Normally i would be mad at you for demanding that way but seeing how needy you seemed, i decided to be nice and let that slide” You turned around before hurriedly locking the door behind him, reached down to grab his phone and turn off the vibration— steadying your breathing as you lean against his chest.

“you a-are mean” you blurted out, gnawing your teeth at the base of his collar, fingers clawing at his dress shirt as you greedily rub your nipples against his front— god you’ll do absolutely anything for this man.

“Oh you thought that was mean? I’ll give you mean, you little slut” He whispered and laughed deeply beside your ear— earning himself a moan from you.

Your eyes widen as he effortlessly carried you to the center of the room where the desk sat, and place you down on the edge of it, His fingers skillfully taking your blouse off as his lips are against yours in a bruising kiss.

He trailed his kisses downwards, biting and licking the pulse point on your neck as his hand brush so delicately against your clothed panties— you moaned out loudly as you buck your hips and grip his hair. Spencer looks up at you before shaking his head disappointedly, taking off his belt, tying your hands on your back, and shove his tie onto your mouth to keep you quiet.

“Now there you go, my helpless baby. Just enjoy this and don’t make a sound” He whispered before bending down to take your panties off, sliding them down your legs and bunch your skirt up around your waist before taking his own pants off and grip the base of his cock,

“Ready sweetheart?” He breathlessly asked, laughing when he pretend to be shocked when you can’t answer, shakes his head before pushing himself into you slowly— “oh fuck, so tight— and warm” he grunts against your neck.

Your head thrown back as you feel him start to move, your muffled moans could be heard as you feel the intense pleasure from the way his cock brushes against your sweet spot everytime he thrusts into you, pulling his tie from your mouth.

“Thats it baby, keep quiet alright? we don’t want anyone to find out how needy and messy you are. So good for me, my good girl” He praised and praised, which makes you mewl, trying to suppress it as best as you could. “Oh! ah ah! Sir please!” You aren’t even sure what is it you’re begging anymore, you just need him to keep fucking you and make you cum.

“please what? hm? please what sweet girl?” His breathing is heavy as he pounds his cock with a brutal pace, feeling himself getting close, as your walls clenched around him “Such a tight cunt.” He groaned. “Please— m-may i cum? please sir! i’ve been good” you gripped the sides of his belt as you feel your high right on the teetering edge, letting out a loud scream as soon as he said,

“Cum, Now. Do it for me, cum baby— fuck that’s it, good girl” every praises spill out of his lips as he keeps on pounding you, before letting himself release inside you, making you whine in sensitivity and the filling of being full- full of him. After cleaning yourself up, you checked the clock, that shows you’ve been there for an hour and few minutes, sighing as you tried to stand up

“I love you, Spencer Reid” Your legs wobble when youre about to fall, Spencer immediately catch you and steady you up on your feet, slightly chuckling “I love you too baby, happy anniversary”. After few more kisses and some steadying, you walked out of the empty office back to your desks in the bullpen, smiling to yourself as you look around to find that no one’s there.

Except, you never bothered to look in the right direction— garcia thought as she tried to erase the memory of seeing the team’s two babies fucking like animals. Oh well thank god it wasn’t Morgan.

————

THANK YOU FOR READING, PLEASE REBLOG, AND LEAVE A LIKE❤️

[eureka-its-zico]

Half Bitten Part 4

Prologue  Part 1   Part 2   Part 3

A/N: So no one really asked for a continuation of this. I just work on stuff when I’m stuck on other things and I love supernatural stuff. My only hope is that someone out there enjoys this just a little. As always, thank you for reading. Much Love, Jenn

Jimin X Reader (for now?)

Words: 8620

Genre: Vampire supernatural goodness

Warnings: some slight gore

The surge of fear that rushed through you left a sickeningly sweet taste of copper on your tongue. For that brief moment, as your eyes focused in and out on his figure, you wondered if maybe you’d bitten your tongue. A mixture of shock from the wound on your leg and the frigid air making your teeth begin to clatter unapologetically from the cold. That wasn’t even mentioning the blood loss from your wounded leg was starting to show itself: your eyes running over him in doubles when you knew damn well there was only one of him. The spyglass vision made it increasingly harder to focus, and the more you did focus on him the more you felt the absurdity at noting how attractive he was. 

From Jimin to Namjoon and now this guy, they all held on to that otherworldly energy. It demanded to be admired and touched: a dangerous game to hypnotize right before they stroked. A small part of you wondered if there was a convention? A secret meeting place to find the most attractive people on the planet and turn them into vampires. 

It was the worst, most ridiculous, time for your thoughts to shift to the absurdity of looks but it also felt equally absurd that you were running for your life. From vampires. You knew the fear that quickened your blood should’ve been enough to send your feet packing in the other direction. Yet, there you were woozy from blood loss and your limbs on fire from adrenaline. 

You were vaguely aware that your new dangerous stranger was edging his way towards you. Blood soaked eyes smiling to the soft hum of a song he’d originally hummed but was now breathing into the space between you. It was hauntingly beautiful and serene. The words took ages to reach you, but when they did your heart thundered wildly. A scared rabbit caught in the view of a viper. 

“Your scent is so pure. It tastes so rich. You’ll try to hide.  you’ll never get far. I love the chase. I’ll find you wherever you are.”

The words danced sickeningly sweet inside your head. The angelic sound of his voice almost enough to make you overlook the words. But your brain knew something wasn’t right, and it sent you turning on your heels and attempting to sprint away from him. 

You’d felt like a fool. You’d been so starry-eyed as you watched him he’d already begun to pace towards you. A delicate shift of his feet that practically left him dancing and a few feet closer to you than before. 

Your late response to turn tail and run; digging in and shifting you forward, hopefully, as far away from him as your injured legs could carry, felt too late. The sensation was so overwhelmingly it took everything in you not to scream. To yell into the void of the night for a help that would never come. The anxiety of not knowing when his attack would come ripped your stomach apart and your heart nesting snuggly in your throat. 

With every pounding of your feet into the asphalt the nerves in your injured leg sent electrical jolts of pain throughout your body. A screaming reminder that you were wounded prey, and the agony you felt now wouldn’t compare to the future he had in store.

You held on to a dim hope you’d had a chance of getting away, but with the first brush of a body moving past you, faster than your brain could register, you knew that hope was non-existent. You barely had time to register the second gust of movement, now to your right, and you weren’t able to stop the soft yelp that crawled free from your throat. 

His windchime-like laughter resonated around you as if he was impossibly close. Behind you. Beside you. All around you. The playful sound erupted and consumed you until it was the only sound you could hear. 

He kept toying with you, herding you, whichever way he saw fit. The progress you thought you were making to safety dissolved quickly at the realization he had you moving in circles. Your mind was now blaring warnings wrapped up in frantic thoughts that left you dizzy with panic.

He wasn’t safe. He wasn’t Jimin who was there to care for you. He was obviously one of Namjoon’s people. This mystery man who tormented you. 

RUN!

Your brain kept scrambling the words around. The flight of nerves urging you to keep moving not caring that you were attempting just that. The neon of the Chinese food restaurant that’s been on your right now seemed on your left. Had he completely made you do a one-eighty? 

There it was again - that clamoring of panic in your chest. It definitely wasn’t helpful, and it sure as hell wasn’t going to help save you. Just another thing to add to your growing shit show of a day. It didn’t matter if you were going to be able to get away. Realistically, you knew the chances of that happening were narrowing down slim to none. It didn’t stop your legs from tearing to your left back down the street, legs pumping, and started saying a prayer that you’d magically turn into The Flash. If vampires and witches were suddenly real it didn’t seem like too much of a stretch to become a superhero. 

Gosh, how you’d seemed to find a street with literally no one on it seemed horrifically convenient. 

“Silly rabbit,” his voice whispered down your spine and instantly caused a scream to catch in your throat like bile. 

Somehow, it seemed even the buildings were helping him play tricks on you. The acoustics of his voice bouncing around as an endless echo to disorient you from knowing which direction he would come from. That knowledge alone made a soft hiccup of a sob leave you. You weren’t even aware of the tears stinging against your eyes; your only focus on your escape and cursing your legs as they struggled to pick up the pace. You bite down on your lower lip to keep from letting one tear escape. You refused to give him the satisfaction.

“There’s no place you can run that I won’t find you.”

If you were feeling good about your odds, you would’ve told him to go fuck himself. The declaration is already solidly forming on your tongue and patiently waiting for you to send it off. Unfortunately, the odds were never in your favor.

You didn’t have to look back to know he was still giving chase. 

You struggled to stay focused. Your gaze landing on a liquor store - neon lights flashing with the grace of a motel vacancy sign - gave you a destination to strive for. The earlier choice of the Chinese restaurant now a thing of the past. He’d turned you around so much you weren’t sure if it was ever real. 

What you needed now was a home base that would possibly give a semblance of safety if only you could reach it. It felt damn possible. The feeling of the crazy bastard behind you somehow leaving you, but the anxiety of being chased still resided. 

You were mid-run, feet still lifted off the ground, when an arm snaked around your front and collided your back against a hard chest. A flutter of a moment passed, not long enough for his foreign touch to register, before your neck was exposed by a violent tug of your hair and sharp canines sinking down into the soft skin of your throat. 

That sob you’d held down ripped its way violently from your lips. Mixing together with a scream that shook through you and landed like an earthquake around you. His strong arms dominated you with ease, and continued to constrict across your body to keep your arms useless at your sides. 

The sensation was one that reminded you of your time in second grade. Mrs. Mann’s beloved python that sat motionless a majority of the time in the back corner of the class. You never seen it move until it was feeding time - never live bait - but even then you could still remember the abruptness and strength of the way it matched onto its food. The greedy way it swallowed its’ meal whole after its body made sure one last time the bunny was dead. 

This was what you remembered now as his arms continued to pull your body closer; impossibly closer. The hand that held your neck letting go to secure itself on your opposite shoulder. This man was your boa: squeezing his meal until he popped bones and killed every ounce of oxygen from your lungs.

The pressure was so great that it left your mouth hinged open. Your jaw unable to collapse, mostly due to your body howling for air. The flashing twenty-four hour liquor sign was a comical five feet away. The promised salvations hum of  low voltage electricity and spastic red glow turned into a blur. The tears you’d refused to shed now slid effortlessly down your cheeks. 

The only thing you could be aware of was that you weren’t breathing. Your mouth was still wide open, but your lungs refused to take in air. It didn’t matter that your body ached for it. It focused more on the sensation of a hungry mouth that sucked hungrily at your neck. The sharpened dog teeth that were sunk deep into the skin no longer ached. 

There was a moment you felt something hot slide down your neck and you wanted to yell. Your mind registering it as drool; not being able to comprehend it was your blood seeping between greedy mouthfuls as he drank. It was strange that after all this, your body was still aware of the placement of his hands. His arms still holding deathly tight, and yet you were placed securely up against his chest. 

If someone were to walk by all they would think was that you were just a young couple. Your boyfriend casually holding you from behind and laying kisses on your throat. They wouldn’t notice that the way his arms held yours it kept you from reaching out a pleading hand for help. At this point, you were so weak you weren’t even sure you’d have the strength to lift a finger, let alone a hand. 

The sting of his teeth that found their home in the hollow of your neck began to fade. Your mind was now only able to recognize the euphoric sensation that began to dance through every cell of your body. You no longer felt the need to fight him. Why would you when your body suddenly felt heavy and his arms so secure? 

In all the chaos of a few minutes the pain fueled down into an annoyance that went to the backdrop with the sensation of numbing pleasure. Whether it was blood loss, or defeat, your body began to relax against the undead stranger. A quiet urge to allow him to drink you down until you were nothing. You were sinking deeper against his strong chest; the euphoric feeling that coursed through you had now consumed you. 

You were vaguely aware that he was no longer holding you so tightly. An arm had found its way out of his hold and instead of fighting him off, it guided your hand up to his head. Your fingers now laced in his hair and holding on in pleasure. When your fingers dug and pulled against the hairs on his scalp, his arms moved to pull you closer but didn’t remove your hand. His mouth giving a -lord help you - playful bite that sent a thrill to the ends of your toes. 

And just like that, your lungs found air, and fuck - you moaned. 

A part of you hated the sound that escaped your mouth. That hatred growing stronger when you swore you could feel his lips curl into a smile. As fast as it all must have happened; it felt like an eternity. One you loathed and yet, were silently hoping would never end. You were so lost in the fuzziness of your thoughts, the sensation of him, that when you were flung violently from his arms the last bit of air you’d had left was knocked from them. The asphalt catching your body as it came to a painful multiple rolling stop. 

An eruption of a roar you knew came from the one who’d captured you: enraged at having his meal taken away was your only guess at how angry he truly sounded. You were too tired, too drained, to be afraid. The small part of you that was still capable of common sense knew you should’ve been terrified. To be terrified meant to flee but the amount of energy that would take was not something you had at that moment. 

You were barely able to muster enough of it to flip yourself onto your back. Your neck now alive with a bitterness at how rough he’d been. The feeling that was creeping back into your limbs made it inch by aching inch that it was not happy. A groan left your lips as you mustered another fit of strength to move yourself to your side. Your eyes landing on the one who’d rescued you. 

Jimin stood in the middle of you and the man. The other man who, even from this distance, plainly wore your blood smeared haphazardly around his mouth. A small amount decorating the hollow of his neck that he now wiped away in agitation. While he seemed particularly calm, annoyed, but calm Jimin seemed to reflect his opposite. 

Jimin’s body seemed consumed by a rage that reflected in the crease of his brow and the hard set of his shoulders. His jaw tight as he straightened out his body back to his full height. The other man before him appeared to be a few inches taller, but Jimin’s rage made him appear larger than what he was. 

“Jungkook!” Jimin’s voice rang out. The animosity in his voice radiated against your skin like a flame that threatened to eat you alive. “You dare taste her? Mark her?”

Jungkook didn’t give Jimin the satisfaction of answering him right away. Instead, you watched a coy smile spread on his blood-stained lips. His thumb dragging across the bottom and ended with it pressed inside his mouth. His tongue seductively working to clean up the mess you’d made. Jungkook didn’t let his thumb come back out until it was completely licked clean; his crimson eyes watching your face as he did it. The intensity of his gaze left an aching shiver on your skin and the heat on your cheeks enough to tell it wasn’t all completely out of fear. 

Jimin must have sensed it too. His gaze turning back to take you in at your current state, and finding your eyes glued to Jungkook’s position. The hurt Jimin showed wasn’t something that you could fully comprehend. You weren’t his to have. You belonged only to yourself. The person that he remembered, the woman he’d loved so many centuries ago, was not you. You were your own person. 

So why did the pain that rippled across his face make your heart ache? 

“You place an apple in front of Adam, Jimin and ask him not to take a bite.” He tsked him. The same finger he’d used to clean up your blood now teasing him in a tick tock motion. “You should remember: Adam always was a fool for the most delicious delights.” 

“She is not yours to have! You play me for stupid, Jungkook. I know that blood alone is not hers. Did you plan on making her drink from you?”

Your body became rigid as Jimin’s words embedded themselves into your chest. The fear that’d begun to reside came racing back and forced you to look at Jungkook closer now. You weren’t sure what it was that Jimin had seen that you did not. You feverishly scanned him until, there, the sleeve of his shirt that sat on his wrist was stuck to his skin. The blood there was still bright and fresh and only beginning to brown at its edges. 

It was the same side that held your head to him, neck exposed, earlier until he’d let it go. You’d thought Jungkook released you because he’d realized you were no longer going to put up a struggle and now the sickening feeling of knowing he’d meant to do something more ominous left you feeling nauseous. 

Jimin knew what he was trying to do. You knew from Jimin explaining about blood being a conduit that if you’d taken even a little of blood, Jungkook would’ve been able to find you. Wherever you were. No matter what. 

“I was only doing what MY King asked of me.”

“I could kill you for what you’ve done here.”

The playfulness that’d controlled Jungkook from the unfortunate moment you’d met him disappeared like smoke. His features hardened with a sinister look as he gave Jimin his entire focus. 

“You could try, old King, but you will fail.”

Jimin’s squared shoulders seemed eager to do just that until another voice joined the two men. 

“Now, now Jungkook. We don’t need an all-out fight on this beautiful night do we.”

You knew the owner of the voice long before Namjoon - the asshole himself - stepped out like magic beside Jungkook. A friendly hand resting on his shoulder until Namjoon moved to stand a few inches in front of him. But it wasn’t just Namjoon himself that appeared like magic from the curtains of the night. Two other figures joined at the edges of the men, making a symbol of an arrowhead, and one of these new introductions to this wildly fucked up play was holding the arm of your best friend. 

“Alice” 

At the sound of your voice it brought Namjoon’s full attention back to you. His brow creased in a momentary show of confusion at how cute you must have been looking: a bloodied heap in the middle of the road. He only needed to look to the man beside him on his left to understand your current state. Or perhaps he already knew. Jungkook’s earlier words of his orders swimming back to the surface of your recollection. 

Namjoon held you in his vision for breadth longer and moved his eyes over to the form of your friend. 

“You can still change her fate, Y/N. All you need to do is come with me.” 

Namjoon’s eyes held tightly to you: all of them seeming to watch your exhausted frame. Your mind struggled to comprehend what he meant and what it was exactly you’d have to do to change it. You’d barely been able to move up onto your knees. Your palms still needed on the asphalt of the road to keep you steady. Your whole body shuddered in exhaustion, but looking at Alice now, at what he had done was enough to make the exhaustion disappear and icy fury made your body rigid. 

“She won’t be going anywhere with you,” Jimin snarled. 

His comment snapped their attention back to him. You wanted to tell him yourself that you could make your own decisions. Not even he got to make them for you and yet, you couldn’t muster enough strength to care. Whatever you had left in you needed to be used to rescue Alice. Her lights still on with nobody home. 

“Jimin. I don’t think you’re in any place to be making threats, old friend.”

“It is more than just a threat.”

Namjoon took a step forward and splayed his arms out to indicate the men beside him. They were so caught up in their pissing contest. All you wanted was to know what you needed to do to get Alice back. All the way back and out of this trance he’d flung her in. 

“It took you long enough to come to your supposed “loves’” aid.” Namjoon’s words were filled with a sharp teasing; sharpened and dripping with sarcasm. “It took Jungkook using her as a snack for you to finally come running.”

“She enjoyed it.”

The heat in those three words were enough to send your cheeks heating with warmth and your eyes searching for the safety of the pavement. You wanted to shout your denial to Jungkook that he was wrong. Not a single part of you enjoyed what had transpired between the two of you, but that lie died long before it’d ever brushed your lips. 

Jimin must have realized it too, because now his earlier lividity returned. His eyes flickering with a murderous rage in Jungkook’s direction. 

“Hmm, maybe I should give her to Jungkook to finish what they’d started. What do you think, Jimin? Or I could always just give him Alice.”

Your head snapped back on Namjoon’s moving figure. His right hand resting under his chin as if he was stuck in a philosophical debate, and not the fate of an innocent woman. 

“You touch her and I’ll kill you.”

The coldness of your words stopped him short. Jimin, who’d been moving back towards you, didn’t take another step. You couldn’t believe it was you who’d spoken. Your own voice carrying a warning that was swept up in the air around you. Threatening something much darker than even you were able to understand. 

For a moment, you could tell you’d caught him off guard but Namjoon was quick on his feet. The hand that held his chin a second ago now moved to usher forward the man to his right. The one who was holding tight to Alice. 

“Oh, Y/N. Of course, I don’t want to do anything to your dear, sweet, and innocent little Alice. That’s why I’m giving you this choice.” 

The man whose face eerily held an angelic softness handed her off into Namjoon’s waiting embrace. Only taking a single step back; his dark almond eyes transfixed on you as if you were something dangerous, and not the other way around. His eyes speaking plainly: he wouldn’t let you do a damn thing to his King. 

“Stop giving her speeches of fairness. We both know you don’t have a fair bone in your body. All you know is how to do is take,” Jimin sneered. “I know even if she still says no you won’t stop hunting her until you have her.”

A flash of annoyance struck over Namjoon’s features like lightening and just as fast after it came, it was gone. His face smoothed back to its porcelain indifference. The only thing that showed his displeasure was the way his eyes were beginning to bleed crimson. 

“I would rather her to come willingly.” His reply was stated matter of factly. Namjoon’s eyes darting back to where you still sat on the floor and took a cautious step towards you. His hand on Alice’s arm forcing her to move with him. “But make no mistake, Y/N. I will have you. I will take you. One way or another.”

A scream echoed around you, and it took you a moment to realize it was coming from yourself. All the frustration. The guilt. Anger and grief that’d been building in the last twenty-four hours came out in a wave of exhaled air before you could stop it; before it could swallow you whole. 

“What will it take for any of you to get it through your thick stupid skulls! I am not a prize or some reincarnated lost love you two fought over because one was captain steal-your-girl. I’m literally no one! I’m just me.”

Namjoon released the grip he had on Alice’s arm and took another step toward you. His body language stating clearly he did not find Jimin’s presence between you in the least bit threatening. The pity that he showed you now, etched into the fine features of his face, only seemed to poke at the Amber’s of the animosity you felt towards him more. 

Why couldn’t any of them understand that you were not what they wanted you to be? You were yourself and always will be. And, at this point, you were more than happy to be your plain Jane ordinary self. 

He crouched down until he was leveled with your position on the pavement of the road. While he adjusted himself to your height you allowed yourself enough time to push up off your hands. Your butt now sitting on your calves and the pressure of the added weight sent the jagged pebbles deeper into your knees. As uncomfortable as it was you could deal. At least now you were looking him squarely in the eyes: no more cowering. 

“You really don’t understand, do you?”

“Namjoon.”

Jimin said his name as a warning. In return, Namjoon continued to ignore him. His brow furrowed tight at his attempt to intrude on his would-be heartfelt moment. 

“Your great-great-great grandmother is long dead. There is no bringing her back. Jimin and I have long accepted this. However.” Namjoon paused for a millisecond. Long enough to make your skin itch with the desire for him to hurry up and finish it. “The power that courses through your veins, Y/N it’s centuries old. Older than even she was. Your blood is what we are all after and the magic that flows in it.”

“I can’t even make a quarter disappear.”

Namjoon’s eyes sparked crimson to obsidian in a wild dance as he struggled to get his anger under control. While he didn’t seem to find your small joke funny you’d earned a snort of laughter from somewhere behind him. Even Jimin’s titled head wasn’t enough to hide the small smile that lifted his lips. 

“In time you will learn.”

“I don’t want to learn! What part of that aren’t you getting through your thick fucking skull.”

“That’s enough!” He roared. His face was fully changed now. All teeth and bleeding eyes with a power that shook the fabric of the night to its core. Namjoon’s change caused everyone around him to join in, until you were painfully aware you were the most human on of the group. “Either you come with us now or I rip your friends’ head open like a Pez dispenser.”

Your eyes zeroed in on him. The threat he made ruthless but one you knew deep down in your gut he’d meant. 

“I’d like to see you fuckin try.”

A mouth full of teeth smiled wickedly back at you. His feet obliging you by moving the few steps he’d taken away from Alice back to her side. Where she continued to stand patiently waiting like a zombie.  

There are moments in your life that don’t feel that important. These small decisions that you don’t realize put you on a deeper path to harder ones that you’ll have to make. Those small repercussions building themselves into a mountain of a moment.  

This is what it felt like now. All those decisions in your life you’d made suddenly seemed to expand like an endless sea of stars. So many of them that they couldn’t possibly be connected; and yet came together to create this constellation of your life.  

You watched Namjoon house the words you’d spoken in his mind. The way his face contorted into something that was worthy of pure nightmare fuel. The resolve of strength you’d had to tell him to basically go fuck himself was gone in that instant, because you were made painfully aware that the individuals before you were god-like. What could a helpless mortal do in the face of a god? 

Namjoon proved to you the answer to that was nothing. His speed moving him faster than you could process. You hadn’t even realized he’d moved at all until Jimin was simply in front of you; guarding you. He was now completely standing between Namjoon and yourself. Jimin’s hand catching Namjoon’s wrist; his fingertips milliseconds away from the tip of your nose. 

The two of them were locked in a battle of wills. The strength they commanded showing itself in the struggle of a dance of tug-a-war without any rope.  If Namjoon gained an inch Jimin was quick to take it back.  

“Move!” 

Without question you obeyed and were up on your feet immediately. Jimin didn’t give Namjoon another moment to force him back; his free hand shot out in a blur and connected with his chest. The sheer strength behind it sent him flying back almost a dozen feet before he gained back his footing. A snarl cutting through the air between them and Jungkook and the two other companions were at his side. 

Suddenly, you were painfully aware how outnumbered Jimin truly was.  

“Ugh – Jimin.” 

“Not now!” 

He waved you off as his eyes scanned in other bodies appearing from the shadows behind the four. Like a fool, you allowed yourself to hope that maybe some of these were on your side. By the way Jimin was staring at them, however, you knew that was most definitely not the case. 

“Where a little outnumbered here. Don’t you think!?” 

Was that your voice that cracked? No, no. You were perfectly calm. Super calm. 

Out of your peripherals you were able to catch a flash of movement. That flash was all you seen before teeth were inches from snapping in your face. A scream worked its way up your throat and was torn from your lips as foreign hands gripped your shoulders. You moved to block your face in a weak attempt just before those same hands disappeared.  

Jimin was behind him in seconds and ripped him off you. The two of them moved in a blinding speed of punches and blocking until Jimin’s hand exploded out the back of the other man’s back. Your hand flew to your mouth to stop a scream short; the gruesome mess left you feeling a bit lightheaded as you unwillingly noticed pieces of shirt and...other things dangling at the end of Jimin’s hand. 

It was a devastating wound. One that would’ve killed any normal man, but this wasn’t an ordinary man or a man at all. Jimin’s blow was only meant to wound, not kill, and this perfectly insane stranger was still trying to snap his way towards Jimin. His hands grabbed Jimin’s shoulder and used it to pull him forward. The movement made a sucking noise and made you question if the contents of your last meal were about to reappear like magic. 

Jimin knew the intentions of the other man and quickly drew his arm back. In the same breath, he followed it up with his palm slamming into your would-be attackers chest. The force of the blow sent him back like a limp ragdoll into Namjoon’s growing group.

“We need to get out of here!”

You couldn’t stop the panic dripping from your voice as you watched him narrowly escape another attack. This new body formed itself from the shadows and split free from its darkness with the flash of a blade. Jimin dodged each whirlwind of blows and strikes with an ease that you weren’t sure came from raw power or age. His attacker tried to switch up his attack by sending a flurry of double kicks towards Jimin’s abdomen. This must have been the opening Jimin had waited for. 

Jimin allowed him to land a kick to his side and when the man went to pull away Jimin locked his leg in place with his forearm. Jimin’s fist rushed in a speed of movement to land powerful blows into his exposed stomach and face. When the man tried to stab his blade into Jimin’s back, he easily grabbed his wrist and knocked the knife free from his hand. He was so focused on the knife that he wasn’t aware of the man coming from behind him. Your eyes danced back and forth, in decision on whether to speak or move weighing heavy on you. 

“Behind you!”

You decided on both. Your feet carried you forward as you shouted your warning to him. What you were going to do against a supernatural creature, you had no idea. You just knew you needed to do something. No matter how aware you were that you were incredibly useless in moments like this. Whatever happened when you finally reached him, you knew it was not going to end well for you. And that knowledge made your stomach turn until your body practically vibrated with anxiety.

The man with the blade was now on the floor under Jimin’s boot. Another came sprinting out of the darkness a mixture of snarling teeth and determination. Jimin used the man under him as a soccer ball and sent him flying into the other man. His body turning in a fluid one-eighty to to defend his back against another. 

You weren’t a hundred percent sure what overcame you. Why you felt the need to scream with what you figured was a war cry. The only thing that came out of it was now the singular attention that had been on Jimin now became equally shared between you. A man who’d been heading towards Jimin and the others derailed and was coming straight for you. Suddenly, that new found bravery dissipated and your fear sent the world around in slow motion. Your feet felt stuck in molasses; each step heavier than the last and a silent pleading for you to turn back. But you couldn’t turn back now. 

You braced yourself for whatever was about to happen. One minute, he was two feet from you, and the next he was screaming on the road. A man held on to the collar of his shirt and what was left of his upper body. The rest of him was laid out on the street in a mess of gore. 

The man who’d entered stage right held his own blade that looked more like a short sword. His arm slinging the blade back to whip off the blood onto the street. 

“I think I’m going to be sick.”

You spoke to no one. The words weight no more than a whisper and yet, to you, it felt like you’d been shouting. Crazy sword guy gave you the barest of glances before he was off. That blur of speed brought him to help clear the remaining men off of Jimin until the two of them were standing at each other’s backs. 

“Nice of you to finally make it, Hoseok.”

Hoseok, aka sword wielding-guy, had the grace to look embarrassed. Hoseok’s body bent at a stiff ninety-degrees towards Jimin who seemed too busy dusting off his coat to notice. 

“I apologize that Jin and I were not here sooner.”

Jimin waved him off. His eyes scanned the surrounding darkness and a part of you wondered what it was he saw there. You wanted to ask him, but the possibility of bad news kept you silent. 

“And where is Jin?”

“Waiting.”

What could he possibly be waiting for? You wanted to ask but in no way wanted anymore attention on yourself. A scream that demanded to be found sounded in the night around you. It circled around and asked to be followed. Your eyes locating the origin of the voice in a matter of seconds to Alice. No longer the vacant girl she’d been the last hour and more herself: the terrified edition. The terror in her eyes was enough to make your breath hitch in your throat. 

“V.” Namjoon motioned with a flick of his finger and the man obeyed.

V. He’d been the one who you thought looked Angelic. His eyes were bright, open, and reflected nothing but bad intentions. Pillow soft lips curled up into a sneer of a smile as he stepped forward. He dragged Alice with him pulling her with such force you were worried he would simply tear it from the socket out of boredom. The sounds Alice made to accompany his aggressive movements only solidified your assumption. 

For all the beauty their afterlife had given them, it did nothing to hide the monsters underneath. Even the devil was an angel once.

“Let’s speed thing up, shall we? Either you turn yourself over to me now, Y/N, or I’ll kill her.”

To prove his point, Namjoon reached out to take her from V. His large hand closing around her throat and lifting her up effortlessly. Her dangling feet struggled to kick him, flailing hands scratching at his arm, and to silence her Namjoon noticeably squeezed her tighter. 

“Stop it! Please!”

The words came out in a sob. Your body struggling to take a breath. A fear that if you did, if you moved at all, it would be all he needed to hurt her more. 

“If you want to stop this than I suggest you do as you’re told and get over here. Now.”

The previous cat and mouse coyness in Namjoon’s voice completely vanished. Every word he spoke sent a sliver of fear down your spine. You weren’t going to argue with him as the fight had left you the minute you’d heard her pleading. You moved to take a step forward and found your legs were refusing to move. The more you struggled against the sensation the heavier the feeling of sinking in quicksand became. 

“You aren’t going anywhere.”

The threat in Jimin’s voice was palpable. The anger that clutched his jaw made you want to instantly apologize for even considering leaving. Almost. Your own anger was bubbling to the surface finally and a hushed, “Fuck you,” rumbled free from your chest. 

“Why can’t I move?!”

“Because I’m not letting you.”

There was a split second where it crossed your mind that he had to be joking. You felt so sure it was a sick prank only to see no part of him was joking.

“What does that even mean? You aren’t letting me. I don’t need your permission.”

Jimin’s mouth opened but it was Namjoon’s voice that cut through.

“It means that this is pointless. You didn’t tell me he’d given her any of his blood.”

Why was he saying this towards Alice? Your brow furrowed as confusion began to roll through you in waves. There was no way your brain could comprehend what you were seeing. Namjoon’s arm no longer held her off of her feet. He’d set her down but kept a firm hold of her neck. And Alice. Your best friend. She no longer looked one bit terrified. Instead annoyance had taken residency all over her face. 

“Alice.”

You hated how little your voice sounded. How much it showcased the betrayal you felt. That annoyance that’d wrapped itself around her like a shroud only seemed to grow larger when she glanced in your direction.

“She never mentioned anything to me about him feeding any blood to her. Just that they’d had sex in a dream a few times.”

Heat washed over your face. A blend of anger and embarrassment with you not really knowing which one it was that colored your cheeks.

“Alice!”

Christ. Were you a broken record.

You might as well have been talking to the wind. Alice looked away from you and back at Namjoon. You couldn’t believe what you were seeing. Her eyes were strictly for him. A comical cartoon version with her eyes filled with hearts flashed in your head. And slowly, as you watched her continue to look at him like a lovesick puppy, a horrible realization began to spread. Your chest tight and ready for whatever heart break came next.

Months ago, Alice talked about meeting a guy at a bar. A night when you were supposed to join her, but lied about catching a stomach bug. She’d gone on and on about how he looked. She’d gone into even more detail about the way he’d fucked her. You’d thought he sounded like someone who just wanted a piece of ass. Hated him before you’d even met him. Now your mind was flooding with all the descriptions Alice had ever given.

It had been Namjoon she’d met that night in the bar. The night you’d ditched her.

Slowly, your eyes moved from her hopelessly devoted figure to the man who still held onto her neck. An unseen collar and his arm was the leash.

You never hated someone before. Not really. Sure, you’d said it nonchalantly in passing. Thought you’d understood exactly what it felt like in moments with people that you were sure the only emotion you’d felt was hatred. Looking at Namjoon now – you knew you were wrong.

This hatred was fire in your blood. It threatened to climb up your throat and release out from your mouth until all the air was spent from your lungs. Most of all, this hatred would only be sated by blood.

You hadn’t been aware that your body was moving until you felt a sharpness in your chest. Your hand moved up to clutch absentmindedly at your heart. Was it possible to feel your heart break and be this angry all at once?

“Y/N – stop!”

Jimin’s voice dripped with the command. A command you wanted to tell him to shove his commands up his ass, but your body listened nonetheless. You felt rooted to that very spot. You were too angry to make sense of this. It forced you to close your eyes and attempt to concentrate. No matter what you did you could not get yourself to move.

Jimin walked to where you stood. His body moved to stand in front of you and cut off what little you could see of Namjoon and Alice.

“Out of my way, Jimin!”

“No. You are too angry right now to see this is what he wants. It’s just another trick to get you where he wants you.”

“Well it’s working.”

“You need to try and calm yourself – “

“Fuck you,” you snarled. Your world was narrowing; wilting down to a tunnel vision that only housed enough room for two. “I’m done with being calm. I’m through with being scared.”

A snort of laughter brought your attention through the tunnel and landing on Alice. She was no longer held like a dog on a leash. She stood proudly behind Namjoon at his side. Her arms were crossed over her chest and her eyes stating plainly: you’re a joke.

“What are you going to do, Y/N? All you’ve ever been since I’ve known you is weak. I don’t even know why they’d even fight over someone as pathetic as you.”

Her words stung. Why would she say that? Was he making her say things like this to you?

“Alice. I know this isn’t you.”

Alice shook her head and moved forward. Her arms falling at her side as she regarded you with the same disgust she’d show a piece of shit on her shoe.

“And what do you actually know about me, Y/N? You’ve always known what I wanted you to know.  The person I made you believe I was, is all just someone made up. Imaginary.”

“How can you say that to me? After all the things we’ve been through. The things we told each other. You can act as tough as you want in front of Namjoon, but you and I know the truth.”

“Maybe,” she shrugged. “But how else do you think they found out where we lived? Why did it feel like someone was following you at all your favorite spots? I told him, Y/N. I told them everything I knew about you.”

That fire that’d raged in your blood smoothed into ice. The shock of her words rocked you, and you knew that was exactly what she’d wanted. Alice was not who you thought she was. She’d made that abundantly clear. 

That girl didn’t exist. And all those times you’d come home terrified. Your heart crammed so deep in your throat you’d thought you were going to die from panic. All because you’d thought you were being followed. Alice joked and comforted you into believing it was just your mind playing tricks. When, in all actuality, it had been her doing the entire time.

Alice was a major key player in where you were standing. Surrounded by a pack of wolves.

You were vaguely aware of Jimin at your side. The faded sounds of his voice beside you eventually grew silent. His companion, Hoseok, somewhere off around you. The two of them faced Namjoon and his men. In between making sure they weren’t trying anything, he sent cautionary glances towards you. He must have been able to feel it; sense it.

The flame of your hatred, your betrayal, that had extinguished earlier was roaring back to life. The anger far surpassing what you felt capable of containing inside you. A dark part of you wanted to scorch the earth they stood on. 

Show them.

                                  Burn them.

The softness of the whisper tickled across your ear and raised the hairs on your arms. The sane part of you – what was left of it – knew something wasn’t right. You tried to play it off as just thoughts. The sinister feeling a part of you, a part that all humans had inside them when they were pushed too far. But it whispered again. This time gentler and promising: “Show them the price for a Witch's fury.”

“I don’t know how.”

Your words hung in the darkness of the night as you waited for a reply. The cautionary energy was pulsating now. All eyes wondering if you’d gone insane for talking to yourself. But they couldn’t hear them. The women who felt like friends; relatives.

“Whatever you hear – whatever they’re saying – you must fight them.”

Jimin was back inside your vision. His eyes searching yours to see if you were still with him. You were both present and not. Lost to voices that made you wonder if he could hear them too.

We can show you.

                         We can teach you.

Let

           Us

                         Innnnn…

Your eyes looked back over at Alice. The one person you’d held the closest in your life, second to your own mother. Flashbacks of every moment you’d shared together. From special drinks you’d created on girls’ nights while binge watching ‘The Great British Baking Show,’ and ‘Friends.’ The two of you, drunk, and believing you could easily make a three-tiered cake from scratch. The trips you’d taken. The help you’d given.

All of it had been a lie. A well-crafted play for her just to hand you over to the very monster she proudly stood beside. Looking at her now was enough for you to make your decision.

Jimin must have sensed it. His mouth framed in an unfinished shout that never got a chance to be heard. Silently, you let the sickly-sweet voice know you agreed and suddenly you weren’t the only one in your body.

It felt like dozens of women – yes, women – were housed inside you. Each of them held their own rage at a betrayal they’d suffered. Each deceit seeped into your bones like a cancer.

Jimin’s hand reached out to touch you; could feel the unspoken bound he’d made inside you make a weak attempt to soothe you. It was a warm sensation that moved from your core and up. A ghost of a hug that was only felt by its warmth. 

He was trying to drive whatever darkness you’d allowed in, but your wrath - your hatred - was too strong. It easily pushed back whatever weak attempt he’d tried to bring you back, and sent your hands out against his chest. The force of it sent him flying back; his feet struggling to stay grounded as his feet dragged on the asphalt.

“We are not your playthings.”

When you spoke, it wasn’t just your voice they heard. Your feet that had felt rooted were now moving forward. Your hands that had trembled were steady as they went to the wounds on your throat. The still pulsing wound in your leg. Each hand moved into the aching wounds to release fresh blood in your palms.

A voice inside the chaos came forward. An old oak among raging storms and housed itself there to teach you. All magic flowed through a balance in the universe. You could not give without it taking. This was how balance worked. A debt was owed when you used it for something dark, and this price you would pay with blood.

“Is this some kind of joke?”

Alice no longer looked smug or amused. She looked terrified as she moved to stand closer to Namjoon.

“That parasite will not save you from me, girl.”

Your voice was dry and worn with age. You rode out her fear and moved to kneel in the road a mere feet from her. Your bloodied hands working symbols into the ground as you began to chant in a tongue you did not know.

All you knew was that the fire full of rage that sat deep in your belly would soon consume her. When the last of the words left your lips, a blue flame snacked along the blood you’d spread until it grew and grew; spreading wings to create a small lake of fire between you.

You rose to your feet and looked out among the faces of those that’d wish to harm you. 

                                            Harm us.

You watched as their bodies became tight with anxiety; some of Namjoon’s lackies fear seeped into the air like a sickness. Good. They should be. With an unholy shriek the fire that crept around them spread wide as your arms rose around your head. The only driving thought you had was that you wanted it to cleanse them.

The fire rushed first towards Namjoon and Alice. V and the other broody one you’d yet to learn of his name, quickly grabbed her and were gone. Namjoon offered you a brief look of irritation before he dodged out of the way. The sound of screams brought your attention to your left and watched as your flame licked up, up, and up until it consumed. The vampire with the fist-sized hole in his chest was now struggling to put himself out.

A smile that was not yours curled your lips and a sickening feeling of joy at watching him die made you suddenly grow ill. This wasn’t you. This hatred. This destruction. You didn’t want to be a murderer. The sickly voice that’d whispered reassuringly earlier was now hostile. It wanted to stay.

Your feet began to back peddle away from everyone as best you could. You had no idea where it was you were going, but anywhere that would be safer for them. You turned to start running again and held your hands over your ears as a scream shook across your skull. Only you could hear them and how they pressed hard inside your skull. The pressure overwhelmed you and made you believe at any minute your eyes would be pushed out. 

You’d only gotten a block when your body could no longer take the pain. Your feet caught on the edge of the sidewalk and you went crashing down. The screaming in your head had only grown louder and caused your vision to begin to blur. Maybe your head really was going to explode after all.

You turned your face to look up towards the moon and were greeted by the sight of Jungkook. His fist connecting with your cheek was the last thing you seen before everything went quiet and dark.  

[m3kuroshirt]

GrimmIchi Weekend Challenge #4: When time comes

Words: Impact, Silence

Genre/Trope: Enemies to Lovers

Word count: 2793

Warning: canon typical violence, some language

Challenged by @m34gs

Summary: (5+1 - Enemies to lovers) - 4 times they were enemies and 1 they weren’t, then everything changed.

(1)

Seeing Rukia dying right in front of his eyes was the most terrifying thing he had experienced up until that day. The enemy had pierced her body like it was nothing. Ichigo was petrified for a couple of seconds and when the world started to make sense again he launched forth, clashing with that blue haired devil, who was laughing and enjoying all too much the blood shed. He launched with all his might at the maniac in front of him, swinging his sword at every opportunity. Yet, that bastard kept dodging and toying with him. Ichigo felt the lacerations in his skin gushing blood, and he could feel his inner hollow slowly and steadily trying to take control of his body. But before that happened he was on the ground, the enemy towering him and ready to swing a final blow. Ichigo was ready for the impact, but it never came. When he could focus again he saw Tosen right behind the blue haired man. Despite the adrenaline still running through his body, Ichigo didn’t know what to do; he didn’t have the strength to fight at the moment. Then, he heard a displeased sound coming from the blue haired man, and the next thing his mind focused on was the garganta opening and both of them stepping inside. But before it closed completely, the devil spoke:

“I’m the Sexta Espada, Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez! Don’t forget, shinigami!”

-x-

(2)

Training with the Visored wasn’t as easy as Ichigo had first thought, specially not with that sly annoying smirking guy. Still, after everything, Ichigo was confident that he could tap into his hollow powers for at least a few minutes now. Fear wouldn’t be the one thing that could make him hesitate in his next battle. The memories of losing control to his hollow were still fresh but he was certain that he was on the path to master its power. He just needed to keep fighting. Fighting with—

“He’s here.”

Ichigo was never good with sensing others reiatsu but for some reason the powerful presence of Grimmjow drew him in like a moth to fire. So, as soon as that spiritual energy hit his senses, he took off.

Facing Grimmjow again was a matter of… something. Ichigo wasn’t quite sure the reason behind his need to square up with him, yet, he knew he wanted to clash blades with the Arrancar again and beat him.

“What happened to your arm?”

“I discarded it. I don’t need it to defeat you, shinigami!”

They clashed and Ichigo decided it was time to test his new found power. The surprised expression on that ever scowling face stirred a dangerous feeling of pride and satisfaction in Ichigo. He was going to show the other that he was strong.

He swung a getsuga tensho.

Grimmjow clashed with him again.

Everything was exhilarating, he felt alive and in control, everything was going well and Ichigo knew that with just one more blow Grimmjow would be the one on the ground. It truly would have been his win if his hollow mask hadn’t cracked. If his time limit hadn’t been reached.

The opportunity to prove that he could take the other was gone. And Grimmjow laughed victoriously as he took his chance to get Ichigo on the ground.

Another victory to Grimmjow.

Ichigo would be finished for good now, if the maniac smile on the other was any indication. However, another Arrancar got in the way. He saw disappointment in Grimmjow’s features, but before he was engulfed by the endless darkness of the garganta, a promise to battle again in Hueco Mundo was made.

Ichigo’s whole body shivered in anticipation.

-x-

(3)

When Ichigo set foot in Hueco Mundo to rescue Orihime he knew deep down in his gut that Grimmjow would be waiting for him. He was stepping inside his lair, right into a trap - or so he thought. However, something stirred inside him when he saw that his enemy had rescued his dear friend from the clutches of whichever monster she was held captive. Seeing Orihime somewhat safe was a relief, a weight - he didn’t know he was carrying before - seemed to have lifted off of his shoulders, and now the only thing left to do was to proceed on wining the next battle.

Grimmjow was waiting for him, expectantly.

Ichigo could hear the drums of a violent battle soon to be unfold, his heart thumping in his chest fast and his whole body trembling from the prospect of seeing the blue-haired Arrancar. He was excited but terrified at the same time as he knew the high stakes of the battle he was fighting. Still, Grimmjow triggered something visceral that was consuming him little-by-little from the inside. Ichigo dared to say he felt pride for being noticed by the other, but the foreign, aching feeling that crawled even on the surface of his skin was— a craving.

Ichigo’s thoughts swirled his mind, still, he tried to keep his usual facade, burying any improper emotion deep down. That proved impossible as every single feeling increased tenfold the moment he saw Grimmjow standing close to him. And when that boisterous voice told him it was time to fight, Ichigo felt like he could let go the trigger of an invisible gun. So, he blurted out:

“Not here”

Grimmjow and his never ending devious smirks got the message loud and clear, both of them sprinting away from the spectators.

They clashed.

Swords lacerating skin.

Gushing wounds painting their skin red.

Grimmjow used his resurrection.

Ichigo released his bankai and hollow mask.

The thrill of battle was something that Ichigo knew all too well, and he wouldn’t admit that the feeling wasn’t all that unpleasant - specially for Grimmjow, who would never let him live in peace if he discovered it.

Then, Grimmjow’s rough voice from exhaustion reached Ichigo’s ears, “You came here to fight me, admit it, Kurosaki!” He laughed as their powers collided in another furious attack.

Ichigo felt a surge of panic as he realized Grimmjow could so easily read him, which made him wonder what faces he was making for the other to get to such conclusions. He wanted to counter, to tell the other that he was wrong, that he was fighting not because it felt good but because he had an obligation to… some greater good or something. In any case, he did have a purpose, he needed to protect the people who he loved. And if that meant fighting enemy after enemy so be it. But instead of denying the accusation, Ichigo chuckled and copied that same smirk the Arrancar usually had on the lips:

“I’ll always fight you.” Ichigo didn’t wait for a reaction from the other, and launched a getsuga tensho.

They fought with claws and teeth, almost literally. And Ichigo couldn’t avoid the thought that if they weren’t in opposite sides, they could have developed some sort of friendly rivalry. Grimmjow and his incessant thirst for the battle field and defeating strong opponents had spiked Ichigo’s interest as he had never seen someone so convicted on battling him. The Arrancar didn’t want to rule worlds, he didn’t care about others, the blue-haired beast just wanted a good fight and to be the king of whatever he thought he should be king of.

Ichigo’s thoughts ran wild and even though his focus was on the battle before him, Grimmjow had almost clawed his face off. Luckily, Ichigo’s quick reflexes saved him. A missed attack didn’t discourage Grimmjow one bit, as another powerful attack reached Ichigo, who kept blocking. For a split second, Ichigo noticed an opening as Grimmjow’s movements started to get sluggish and predictable. He lunged forward, releasing a getsuga tensho right on Grimmjow’s face.

The battle ended not long after.

Out of respect, he held Grimmjow by the wrist preventing his imminent fall on hard sandy ground. He left the unconscious Arrancar there, and shunpoed back to his friends. But, not long before Ichigo had reached them, Grimmjow was back at him, ready to fight - demanding him to fight. Ichigo lunged forward with Grimmjow, but this time Ichigo dropped his sword. He wanted to make a point. Grimmjow and his fight didn’t have to end there with one killing the other, they could go on and on forev— Ichigo paused for a second at the thought.

When Grimmjow barked some insults, demanding him to pick up his sword it was then that Ichigo was sure that they could keep fighting forever. And Ichigo knew he could persuade the other, make a some sort of contract, he was almost convincing Grimmjow that they could meet again at another time. And if it weren’t for the devil Arrancar number 5 to interrupt their exchange of words, perhaps they could have come up with an agreement where they could fight again.

Ichigo would take Grimmjow at any time, anywhere, and he was sure Grimmjow would too. The what ifs in Ichigo’s head kept flooding his mind as he saw Grimmjow on the ground, blood covering every inch of his neck, drenching his clothes.

They’d have been excellent partners. Ichigo thought as he prepared himself to not only defend his friends and himself but also avenge a fallen Arrancar.

-x-

(4)

With everything going to hell as per usual, Ichigo still kept fighting, an obligation to end another battle crawled through his very soul as he knew it was the only way to protect the people he loved. In the middle of all the crisis, Urahara contacted him to update him with some vital information regarding Soul Society and the Quincys. Urahara was in Hueco Mundo, and Ichigo still wasn’t sure what he was doing there, but it didn’t matter Ichigo was sure it had something to do with collecting data and finding a way out of the current situation. What Ichigo wasn’t expecting to hear was a well known voice, a voice that he had wished to hear for a long time now. It had to be HIM shouting in the distance.

“This voice… Is it…?”

He heard some more yelling and cursing before the call went silent for a second and then Urahara kept explaining… something. Ichigo didn’t pay that much attention, his mind was still swirling over the fact that he was sure he had heard Grimmjow’s voice. To think that maybe the Arrancar was alive and doing well stirred something in his very soul. Excitement and anxiousness ran through his body like wildfire, and Ichigo wished that he could see Grimmjow again.

-x-

(5)

Hell went loose. That was one definition of what was going on. Yet, Ichigo was ready to launch into a messy bloodied battle field once more. Another fight that in all reality wasn’t Ichigo’s but somehow he got dragged once more into it. He had fought too many “gods” and tricksters already, one more wouldn’t make a difference now. The only difference was his surprise to know that the remaining Arrancars would help. Even more surprised he was when he saw a Garganta opening and a very familiar blue haired Arrancar appeared before him.

“Grimmjow!” Ichigo gaped, suddenly the air he breathed wasn’t enough and he felt a knot forming in his throat.

Eyes immediately locking in Ichigo’s figure. Those electrifying blue eyes were as mesmerizing as Ichigo remembered them, and that scornful face hadn’t changed a bit. Grimmjow didn’t waste time, closing the distance between Ichigo and himself ready to have a quick fight. They stood in front of each other, eyes trained observing and waiting for any movements, any remarks, anything that could trigger them clashing their swords.

They probably would’ve started fighting already in any other situation, but another familiar green-haired Arrancar crushed him in a hug. At that moment, Ichigo not only heard but saw Grimmjow's annoyance. And for a second Ichigo thought he saw a glimpse of possessiveness in the other. After that, Ichigo got too involved with all the new people arriving and asking questions to really pay attention to Grimmjow. When he finally got the chance, however, he sat down next to the other and tried to talk. Grimmjow mostly scoffed and replied with dry and sarcastic remarks, nonetheless, listening Grimmjow bickering with others and hearing his hoarse deep voice directed to Ichigo affected the substitute shinigami in ways that he wasn’t quite sure what to make of it. It wasn’t like they were friends, they barely even had anything in common - as far as a Ichigo was aware of. Yet, Ichigo was excited and glad to see Grimmjow again.

“Why are you helping us?”

“If Hueco Mundo is gone… Where else would I fight you?”

Right then Ichigo was sure that their bickering wasn’t only because they were enemies. Something had changed, the Arrancar Ichigo was looking at wasn’t his enemy anymore. Grimmjow was an ally but more than that the blue haired man was Ichigo’s rival, someone who brought to the surface Ichigo’s true nature; someone who understood Ichigo; who showed their feelings through actions more than words.

Which was why Ichigo panicked the moment Grimmjow lunged himself in the enemy's territory, chasing his opponent. And Ichigo’s heart skipped a beat when he had lost Grimmjow from his sight.

Despite Grimmjow’s reckless actions, Ichigo could see it was his usual pretend game of ‘I don’t care’ to cover the truth behind it: to have Ichigo advancing faster to the final battle. To have Ichigo unscathed as possible.

-x-

(+5.5)

Ichigo wasn’t sure what he expected after the war was over, after they defeated a God. However, he wasn’t expecting to not find Grimmjow. His heart sunk when he didn’t hear from the Arrancar. And even though the days passed by in a blur, Ichigo still felt an emptiness inside of him. Ichigo’s life went back to a mundane pace, he didn’t have anything overly difficult to handle, perhaps the most difficult thing now was his collage classes but he still aced them anyway as if they were the easiest thing he’s ever done. Still, it didn’t matter what he was up to during the day, once his head hit the pillow at night silence and peace wasn't something he had. Ichigo's mind wouldn’t quiet down, Grimmjow still haunted his thoughts night after night. By now Ichigo had realized what was going on with him. Not fulfilling the one thing he wanted long ago had made his mind swirl with thoughts of ‘what if’.

What if he had let his hormones talk when he noticed he had indeed a crush on Grimmjow.

What if he had kissed Grimmjow when he had the chance.

What if Grimmjow came back.

That thought alone branched a thousand more scenarios in his head. And even though no one had ever said anything whether or not Grimmjow was dead made everything worse. Because that gave Ichigo hope. A hope that kept growing day after day that Grimmjow would appear out of thin air in front of him.

Ichigo sighed. Another night he was having trouble sleeping. He had tossed and turned in bed a couple of times by now. Yet, the only thing he could think of was strong arms that could be embracing him if Grimmjow was there.

Ichigo turned around again, facing the wall. The window's curtain open, letting the moonlight dimly lit the room. Ichigo’s eyes glanced up to the night sky. He stared for long minutes, watching the bright stars flicker. He was almost closing his eyes, almost falling asleep when a shadow loomed in front of the window. He jumped out of bed fast, immediately grabbed his shinigami badge and without a second thought he let his body fall flat on the bed and he was in his shinigami form.

Just then he took a good look at the figure at the window.

He gaped.

Mouth slightly open in surprise.

Heart beating fast, feeling like it would burst out of his chest.

He swung the window open, and before the man hovering outside could say anything Ichigo drug him inside and crushed the other in a tight hug; face buried on the other’s neck, hands clutching a white jacket.

“So you missed me.” The man’s hoarse voice came out low and right at Ichigo’s ear.

“Fuck you, Grimmjow!” Ichigo blurted out, but he didn’t release the other from his arms.

“Eh? Took you long enough to tell me that.” Grimmjow laughed, as he nuzzled Ichigo’s neck.

Ichigo had a thousand and one questions for Grimmjow. And another thousand and one curses to be directed at the Arrancar too. Yet, all he could think of now was to have that man in his arms and not let him go; not to let him out of his sight ever again.

[the-crows-typist]

Here’s the fourth installment of your Valentine’s event (Yes, I know it’s March but IRL stuff happens y’know? This time we have Kalim paired with the word ‘Flowers’ requested by @opalmaplehibiscus .Enjoy!

CW: Hanahaki AU (Non-lethal variant), Angst with a happy ending, potential OOC, Minor talks about death

Word count: 3656 

Other works: Chocolates Feat. Jade, Cards Feat. Floyd, Kiss Feat. Vil

A Heart From Me to You

Kalim loved to look at flowers regardless of where he saw them. He loved the way the petals touched his skin and the many scents, whether sweet or strong, he breathed into his nose. Visiting the school’s botanical garden was one of his ‘hidden favorite things’ to do, he puts it as hidden as Jamil and he was glued to the hip since birth and while he never minded that Jamil was close by, there were moments he wished to be alone.

It was a very selfish want, he admitted to himself.

“Phew.” He breathed a relieved sigh, finally able to enter the garden without much of a problem. The sound of birds is what calmed him and the familiar scent of stored water was what brought him a sense of renewal. Taking one of the watering cans, Kalim began watering the flowering plants with not much thought going into it.

The flowers were beautiful, they truly were. They were very lucky to be this beautiful and to be held in such high regard for it. Yes, the flowers were indeed lucky contrary to his being; he never thought of himself the way he viewed the flowers and while he enjoyed some perks of his life thanks to his family’s achievements, it came with the same amount of misfortune and realities usually too dark for people his age to perceive.

Many people get hurt or even die for his sake, his siblings don’t get as much attention from their father as they liked because he, the eldest, is in the way and deep down he knew and felt the boiling resentment many had for him.

He doesn’t blame anyone for thinking that. It was a hard pill that Kalim was used to swallowing.

Perhaps had he been born a flower, life would have been easier for everyone including him.

He continued his watering until the can was empty and only then did he go back to the hose to refill it. The foliage on the way there was thick, he figured it hadn’t been cut for a while and made a note to himself to find some hedge clippers. He wasn’t allowed to hold knives, that’s true, but hedge clippers don’t count, right?

Lost In his internal debate, a quick set of feet ran and collided with his side harshly, Kalim and the unknown student losing their balance with a collective sound of surprise. “Oh, gosh, I’m so sorry. Are you okay?” You held your hands to yourself, as if hurt when Kalim slowly inched forward. “A-are you hurt? I can take you to the clinic if you—!” He was suddenly pushed out of the way, your hands only touching him for a moment before running off.

Kalim watched in confusion, blinking when the door slammed shut. The smell of lavender hit his nose and his eyes loomed downwards to see that the area you had touched had been taken over by the flowering buds of lavender. “This wasn’t here before.” He whispered to himself and attempted to pull at the flowers carefully out of the fabric.

When he finished his resting time, Jamil was waiting outside the botanical garden looking very upset. “You ran off again.” He said in the most seething voice Kalim was used to hearing. “Look, I can explain.” And back to reality it was, playing as the happy-go-lucky person people knew him as. While he enjoyed the time to himself, he hated how short it lasted. But now, he has to keep face, he has to be what he was expected to be.

Jamil takes his hand but Kalim’s smile only wavers a little bit. Here we go. “No amount of explaining will change the fact that you were alone. You should be more careful, Kalim. What if—?”

There was a biting sensation on his skin, the two boys looking down and on Jamil’s skin sprouted small white blossoms and enticing black berries. They both reeled from each other, Jamil holding his hand and Kalim his wrist.

He suddenly remembers you, bumping into him during his internal discussion.

“Kalim…” Jamil’s eyes were wide in fear. “Your…”

The nightshade flowers withered under the sun, its poisonous berries drying and falling to their feet in clumps.

Wearing gloves in warm weather wasn’t the nicest feeling but it had to be done. After the confirmation that Kalim had indeed been cursed, Jamil had become vigilant and stricter with his role as protector. There wasn’t a time he was ever alone in one room. His selfishness has come to bite him back, Kalim thought to himself.

He looked to his hands with a huff. The curse didn’t seem harmful, just inconvenient…And the one who gave it, You, didn’t seem like it was intentional. The meeting between you two was brief, only lasting a few seconds and a few shed flowers.

“Kalim, let’s go,” Jamil said, tugging him along and walking by his side every step of the way.

Ah, how would he know anyway? He’s not good at anything like Jamil nor does he have the physical capabilities as he does. The only thing he’s probably good at is flying a magic carpet and the drums.

“Yeah.”

Kalim was quiet on their walk and until he sat down in the classroom, he kept silent. Class started without much trouble, he took notes but couldn’t listen much, his mind wandering back to you in the botanical garden.

Lab classes had a sort of freedom to it. Kalim was able to work around a bit more his gloves and Jamil would often be paired with someone else…Usually Azul. Kalim noticed that despite their different interest, Jamill and Azul had grown closer in the past months. And while he was happy for them both, there was a sting that never wanted to leave.

He and Kalim were born around the same time and since then never left each other’s side. He was there when Kalim needed him and he was his friend, probably his only friend. That was, at least, what he wanted to believe but even during their childhood, Kalim had already noticed that Jamil was with him because he was told to. Had Jamil been given the choice, he could have played with someone else other than him.

“Excuse me, would you like to start?” His partner asked and he blinked, nodding his head and smiling the way he always does. “Yeah! Let’s work hard.”

He stayed in the corner, eyes looking at particularly nothing. He and his partner finished up early and got a good enough score for it…Which is good, he’ll take a passing grade than a failed mark any day. He looked over to the side of the ceiling and his hands intertwined with each other. In the back, Jamil smiled at Azul’s demise after hot smoke bellowed from the cauldron and out to their face.

It had been a while since he saw Jamil looking that happy. There was stinging itchiness in his hands that went with the heaviness in his heart. The gloves grew tighter and less comfortable and Kalim wanted to take it off, but showing he had been cursed meant showing others he was vulnerable.

The itchiness and the cold warmth of fear felt were too great. He needed a change of environment, he needed alone time. He took one last look at a laughing Jamil then slinked off and out of the lab, almost running to a place he knows he’ll be safe.

The botanical garden was silent and unchanged, its flowers blooming in different colors and hues, the temperature a mix of tropical and temperate. He smiled upon seeing Leona rest against a tree and soon walked deeper and deeper into the gardens to a place where he could relax. Discarding his gloves, he let his hands touch the tree stumps, flowers of Helenium growing on the bark and providing color in an otherwise dimly lit landscape with the trees acting as a canopy.

Kalim sighs, letting his thought leave whichever way it can. The flowers bloomed under his palm and he reveled in its beauty, just by being born it was able to bring a sort of happiness to those who choose to look at it.

His shoulders droop slightly, his line sight dipping to a tree’s roots. His hands begin to scratch and he begins to scratch on the skin of his palms, begging his body and the curse to stop. He rubbed his palms together, the tattered stems and petals falling to the ground in a heap. “Please stop.” He begged to himself. “Please make it stop.”

He closed his eyes, brows furrowed and shaking. The flowers crept up his skin over his hands. “Please stop.” Hunching over, he brought his hands to his chest. “Please…”

“Please,”

“Calm down.”

Picking the flowers out of his skin was an odd experience and even more that someone else was doing it. Your hands were wrapped with bandages and eyes searching for even the tiniest blossoms on his skin. Kalim sniffed, rubbing his eyes with a now flower-free hand. “That’s it, just let it all flow out.” You said and pick the last flower from his hand.

“Festering emotions are what power the curse.” You explain. “You have to let it out or else the flowers will consume you.” He takes his gloves out of his hand and slips them back on and you sit up straight, an embarrassed smile formed on your lips. “I suppose I should its high time that I introduce myself—.”

“You’re the one who bumped into me.”

You nod your head. “Yes, and you’re Kalim Al-Asim, dorm leader of Scarabia.” With a voice gentle, Kalim felt at ease but what his eyes saw betrayed the feeling immediately. “Please forgive me, I didn’t know that it would pass onto you so suddenly.” You bowed, forehead touching the ground in your position.

You waited for a reaction, anything, but as time passed you never heard anything nor did you feel any anticipated touches. “It’s a little embarrassing seeing you like this, raise your head,” Kalim said and you did what you were told. He looked down at his hands, a few blossoms stayed on his skin.

“How long have you had it?” Kalim asked, placing a hand over yours and the touch making you twitch. “This curse.” He clarifies, your eyes holding the quivering vulnerability only presented to him alone.

“For a long while now.”

Kalim didn’t know how long he had spent in the gardens just talking to you, knowing what the curse had to offer. You always made sure none of your skin ever touched anything or peaked out of your uniform. While you were gentle and kind, Kalim saw fear in your actions.

“The curse only latches onto anyone with festering feelings…Perhaps,” Kalim looks at his hand while you pause as if what you were about to say would sound very mean-spirited. “Perhaps that’s why it latched onto you, too.”

It was near evening when he got out, his heart not as heavy but speedy knowing that he had to face a very upset Jamil for being selfish and unguarded. He walked down the steps, already seeing the familiar figure at the bottom; Jamil’s brows were furrowed and expression angry.

The two of them stared at each other and Jamil turned his back. “Let’s go home.”

You had told him prior that you lived inside the garden, in a special cottage that was hidden from view. It must be nice, he thought to himself. Jamil took Kalim by the wrist and pulled him close, walking to his stride.

“Is there a way to break this curse?” He asked and your smile deflated but only for a short while. “I wish I could tell you,” You say. “But I don’t know, either.”

From the evening setting of Night Raven, Kalim was welcomed to the familiar home of the Scarabia dorm. The two walked to the entrance quietly and soon Jamil let go of him, turning around. “Is there something I need to know about?”

“Festering emotions are what power the curse.” He remembered you explaining to him and suddenly his palms began to itch. He shook his head, giving him the happy-go-lucky smile he was used to seeing. “You were having fun so I thought it’d be best to leave you alone.”

“Just…” He could hear the frustration in his voice before the eventual sigh of exhaustion. “Just don’t run off by yourself. It would spell bad things if you’d gotten hurt.”

Jamil shook his head and went on his way, leaving Kalim alone. Now that they were in the safety of the dorms, he could rest…Both of them could. Kalim quickly takes off his gloves and pressed his palms together, breathing in deep and for the first time in a while let the tears fall from his eyes.

His breathing was slow and steady, his walking slightly shakey and laborious but his palms no longer itched and the flowers halted in their growth. When he entered his room, he plopped his face into his pillow and letting it soak up all that he had felt.

Flowers were beautiful and revered for just being alive. Flowers were born lucky and he wasn’t. He breathed in deep and moved away from the pillow to breathe, his thoughts went back to your face with a smile so delicate like thin glass.

“There are moments I wanted to be born as a flower.”

Evading Jamil and regrouping with you was a new normal for him, waiting for the right moment that Jamil is busy or focused on something or someone before bolting. The botanical garden was immediately a no-go after he had caught you there twice so the two of you decided to set course for a place no one normally goes to.

The fields blew, the tall sunflowers dancing in the wind and keeping both of you hidden from sight. You huffed a small laugh. “What kind of flower would you have wanted to be like?” Kalim touched the fibrous stem of the sunflower.

“Maybe a sunflower. People like them and they give really tasty seeds.” Bringing his knees together, Kalim’s expression shifted to one of deep thought. The sun cast a soft light over them, his eyes almost glowing like rubies under it.

The brief silence between you harbored no negativity but one of understanding. You and he had bonded with the small time together and Kalim knew very well that you wouldn’t run away from these kinds of conversations. You listened and you replied with what resonated with you.

He liked your honesty and he didn’t spare any effort to show his appreciation to you.

“What about you?” He asked, looking over to you as you thought about it.

“An osiria rose. They look really pretty and the petals are white with red tips.”  Smiling to yourself, you look into your hands. “It’s a rare flower and takes a lot of breeding mixes to perfect. I really like it.” Kalim hummed and looked up to the sky as the wind crashed against them.

“Flowers are really lucky, huh?” He said, leaning back with his palms flat on the ground. “No matter how dangerous or how defensive a flower is, people still like it just because.” You never mentioned it to him but Kalim was good at hiding. His eyes, to his lips, and to the very voice he used with you; there was never a time you actually saw his grief that way he saw yours.

“The very first time Jamil was poisoned back when we were young I didn’t know what to do with myself.” His fingers shook and removed his glove and letting his bare skin grow flowers on the ground he touched, allowing flowers to grow where he touched. “He didn’t wake up until weeks later while I was escorted around by different people.” You blinked, leaning your head towards him.

“I’m sure his family was worried, his sister tried her best not to show it but I knew better.” Feeling your head on his shoulder, he reciprocated the action with a small laugh. “That was probably the time I realized how unlucky my origins were.”

“Kalim.”

“It’s a stretch, I know.” His smile morphed into a frown. “I don’t like asking for much knowing how much effort people have to make to get it done.” Your hand held his and soon, your fingers closed onto each other. “I’m fine. I just wanted to vent—.” He said but you only shook your head.

“It’s okay to cry, Kalim. I won’t say anything.” And he did, he continued looking forward yet the tears betrayed neutral expression. He sniffled when you continued to hold his hand.

“I met someone special back then. They made me very happy.” The both of you needed to move hiding places when Jamil caught wind of your meeting without him, the two of you opt to go to a field behind the school. A place not a lot of people go to, the flowers were not bountiful where you sat and the air was cooler.

While the bluebells were scattered in patches, coloring the meadow blue and green. “But I was young and stupid like most people, I thought they’d be with me for a long time.” You smiled at him, chuckling. “It’s silly but, I was really sad when they left.

“They meant a lot to you, didn’t they?” Kalim wondered.

“The meant the world to me.”

The both of you smile and your hand brought itself to your lip, a finger hooked under it. “It’s silly, really. It’s nothing like what you went through. I was so hung up on it that I ended up getting hit with the curse.” Kalim places a hand on your back as you laugh with a bitter taste in your mouth. “It’s silly, I know. It’s nothing compared to what you went through.”

“Still, losing someone important hurts a ton. Especially when you couldn’t get to say goodbye.”

Nodding your head, you lean against Kalim’s shoulder and he does the same by leaning against you. The bluebells flutter into the wind, your nose sniffling and eyes carrying a lingering sting. Kalim’s hand goes to your shoulder, rubbing it.

You hold your palms, scratching at it through the wrap. “Thank you for listening, Kalim.” You say, rubbing your eyes slightly. “I really appreciate it.”

Kalim stared into the distance, holding you close to him and not minding what little tears you chose to let out in front of him. “You did the same for me.”

The tendency to be clumsy often comes at the worst times, Kalim and your hands were wetted with some nice fruit juices he managed to snag when Jamil wasn’t looking. Both his gloves and your wraps lay soaked on the ground in front of you.

“I…” Kalim sighed and you shook your head. “Those things do get hard to wear after some time. It’s nice to feel the air again.” You rub your hands together, palms soft after being confined for so long. Kalim sits on the ground across from you. “I’m sorry, I’m sure we can find something to wrap your hands with.”

“Yup.”

The both of you looked at the items before you in silence, both of your hands to themselves and never touching at all. “Do you ever…Do you miss being able to touch things?” You ask him and he nods his head. “I do. I miss being able to feel brooms and the blankets I have. I try not to mind it much.”

You ball your palms together, interlacing fingers over each other. “I see.” Suddenly you bring out your hand to his, palm open for him to take. “But…” He hesitates but his hand comes out slowly. “It’s alright to ask for things.” You say. “Go on.”

He took a breath in, his hand inching towards yours. He thought about his first meeting and the many times he evaded Jamil just to be with you.

“I trust you.”

Did he really deserve to be able to ask for this? After all the things he’s caused?

“I do too.”

Your hands touched and mirrored each other; the itchiness he expected to feel was no longer present. The silence was tense and his shoulders and breathing were shaking yet your hold on him calm with a knowing and relieved smile on your lips. Your eyes met one another and Kalim smiled, lacing his fingers with yours and pulling you into him into a hug; his laugh tingling beside your ear.

Your hands feel the softness of the fabric and your nose breathed in the scent of his clothes. You closed your eyes, burying your face into his shoulder, bidding farewell to the old and welcoming the new as you imagined a new life ahead of you. A pot of olive flowers blooms not too far from your position as you two shared an embrace long-awaited.

Peace had been found between two kindred souls. Finally, after so long.