#points for if you can guess the shitty blurry cover

[angered-box]

i'm back on my "drawing men in dresses" bullshit again :3

[the-snake-and-the-statue]

"Okay.... is EVERYONE okay....?" Sammy says after a few moments. He does a headcount... yep, everyone's in there. Except, obviously, Ramona. The dragons back off, either terrified of all the people or understanding space is needed. In the distance, Mytha, Sylvia, Celio, and several other dragons flee the forest to avoid the uprooting and falling trees.

Nova continues to hug Switch and sob into Vaga's shoulder as he stares at the ground, vision blurry with tears. Achilles glances up as the lights flicker slightly... despite his silent cries, his expression remains stoic.

Odette collapses into one of the stables, willing themselves to not cry as they hold their wound... several dragons surround them, acting as something semi-soft to lay on. Samuel hands them some bandages, which they gladly accept yet only stare at.

No one else speaks for a while, as the ground continues to tremble and the sounds of destruction occur above the cave. People tend to each other's wounds, offer comfort where they can, yet it all happens terrified silence.

Finally, Samuel gets up.

"Now why the fuck are YOU here??" He jabs a finger in Slyn's direction, who's sitting against the wall and staring outside.

"What do you mean, why am I here?! It's a fucking earthquake Samuel, I'm allowed to take cover!!"

Samuel laughs angrily. "Hah- what happened to being 'above all the others, going wherever you please'? Huh? 'Cause I know DAMN well you of all people wouldn't willingly come to the 'shitty dirty stables' with all of us workers. Why don't you go back up to comfort and admire your wife, hm?"

A threatened hissing emits from Slyn's crossed arms. "You think I'm stupid?! She WILLINGLY TOOK OFF HER VEIL. I'm not getting in the way of that, you don't realize how bad it is when she lets you see under that thing, much less takes it off fully. She just.. needs to cool off."

Every word pisses Samuel off more, and he starts slowly walking towards Slyn. His palms are still caked in his own blood, covered in freshly-healed wounds where his claws sunk into his own flesh.

"You really are a FUCKING coward, you know that?"

Slyn's eyes darken.

"There's that look again. You're so fucking pathetic, I hope you know. You're only in power 'cause you broke your back riding Hexe's dick to the point she knew you'd do ANYTHING she said. You decide the best way to flaunt this power is abuse and beat the living shit out of everyone in this room for fun, MULTIPLE TIMES. But now, since you know you're probably gonna die at BEST if you spend any time around her while she throws tantrums, suddenly you're insistent you're in the same room as us. Why. 'Cause you're 'human'? You damn don't act like it."

They're inches away.

"That's fucking ENOUGH Samuel-"

"Ohhhhh no. Ohhhhhohohohohoho no, I'll decide when I'm done saying what I've been hanging onto for, what, 7-ish years? Almost 8? Something like that, whatever. ALL OF THIS IS YOUR FAULT, SLYN. ALL OF THIS-"

He motions at Mocha's broken arm, Vaga and Nova's panic, Odette's cracked torso, and more.

"- IS YOUR FUCKING FAULT! AND GUESS WHAT, NOT JUST EVERYONE IN THIS ROOM- ALSO THE ONES WE LOST!!"

He counts off his fingers.

"Icia?? GONE. Dunite?? GONE. And now Ramona? FUCKING GONE!!! I wouldn't be surprised if you were the reason Ramiro was gone too- hell maybe if you didn't fall for Hexe and actually helped us overthrow her and take her power, he'd be back here today! Then none of us would have to suffer, especially them-"

He motions furiously at Mirobelle's mirror, Alex, Switch, and Yume.

"- 'Cause you know what? THEY NEVER GOT TO EXPERIENCE THE PARADISE THIS FUCKING TORTURE CHAMBER DISGUISED AS A KINGDOM USED TO BE!! AND NOW THEY PROBABLY NEVER WILL, BECAUSE OF YOU!!!"

Slyn stands up, shoving Samuel out of his space. "THIS ISNT ALL MY FAULT!!! If your smooth fucking brain can't remember right, YOU AND VAGA SIDED WITH ME AT FIRST! AND AKLATAN, AND MOCHA!! THIS IS AS MUCH YOUR FAULT AS IT IS MINE!!"

Oh, how that was the wrong thing to say. Samuel looks like he's going to blow a gasket. Vaga covers his ears tighter.

"You realize none of us ever agreed with you, right? NONE OF US looked at you and Hexe and were like 'Oh yeah, I want to fight for a life of walking on eggshells and being punished for even looking at someone the wrong way', THAT WAS DRIVEN BY FEAR! WE WERE ALL SCARED TO DEATH OF WHAT YOU'D DO TO US!! WAS IT RIGHT?! NO, BUT WITH WHAT HEXE AND YOU DID TO ICIA AND ACHILLES IT DAMN SEEMED LIKE THE BETTER CHOICE- NONE OF US WANTED TO FIGHT FOR YOU AND HER, ABSOLUTELY NOT A SINGLE ONE OF US!!"

Blood once again drips from Samuel's palms as he tries to not beat the shit out of Slyn right then and there.

"So I say it again. You are a pathetic, pathetic man Slyn. You're a goddamn COWARD and Ramiro would be SO DISAPPOINTED IF HE SAW YOU NOW!!!"

A harsh punch suddenly lands on Samuel's face, forcing him to stumble back as red drips down his face. He stares at Slyn for moment before swinging back, the blow slamming him into the wall.

The two don't get far, before several dragons attempt to pull them apart. Slyn already has a black eye and half his snakes are almost dead crushed, ripped away from Samuel's throat (which is now littered in bite marks).

"SAMUEL, MAKE YOUR BEASTS UNHAND ME BEFORE I KILL THEM ALL!!!" Slyn screams, thrashing violently.

"You keep bucking around like that and they'll confuse the rest of your fingers for food," Samuel shoots back, throwing the crushed snakes at Slyn's feet. Before either can spit yet another insult, however, a gentle tapping sound directs their attention to Mirobelle, who's finally emerged from her mirror. She's covered in soot, dust and grime with teary eyes.

"..... the quake is over...." she whispers. "Many things are destroyed but... it all happened mostly in the throne room."

Samuel's anger subsides as he glances down... the ground is no longer shaking. The lights aren't flickering.

Everyone is safe.

"... thanks Miro.... do you know if any of... 'her' stuff is salvageable?"

"I will do my best to find something while cleaning.... there is no guarantee though. I.... I would assume it is all gone."

A heavy silence fills the room.

"What about Ramona's room?"

His braid wraps around his throat, though not tightening. As if it's a warning.

".... I mean 'her' room."

The braid eases a bit.

"I would suspect it is now barred off, but I need to check."

Sammy nods. He was expecting that.

"Thanks Miro.... now as for you." He redirects his attention to Slyn, who's staring down at the ground with a subtle look of... shame? Samuel couldn't care less.

"Get the fuck out of my stables. Traitor."

Slyn swiftly leaves, not even bothering to slam the heavy wooden doors behind him before ascending into the damaged halls.

After Slyn is gone it seems as if Samuel's rage has finally faded, as well as his energy and mental state. He looks around at everyone, looking like he's trying to hide tears that threaten to breach his eyes.

"Sorry about that.... you all can stay as long as you want, there's more medical stuff in my room and some blankets, I'm just... gonna make sure my dragons are okay."

He glances in Alexander's direction, though avoiding his eye, before walking outside and wrapping his arms around Mytha.

Sylvia trots inside and lays her head on Aklatan's lap, softly growling.

Mirobelle hugs both twins, softly singing a French lullaby to soothe them.

Achilles goes into Samuel's room and leaves with a small dagger, leaving the stables as well.

As for Odette, they continue to lie against the dragons that nuzzle close and are still rattled by the earthquake. They look around at everyone before closing their eyes, a tear falling down their face.

Achilles was right, they think bitterly. Nothing good ever stays good in this place.

[mr-gallavich]

Analysis of Mickey Milkovich's Bedroom Part Three

HELLO HERE IS PART THREE SORRY ITS BEEN A BUSY FEW DAYS AHHHH

(Warning, mentions of the dreaded scene in 3x12)

ALSO YES PLEASE ADD THEM TO YOUR VAULT OF FICS BECAUSE THIS MAKES ME EMOTIONAL AS WELL AND I COULD MAKE WHOLE SEPERATE POSTS ELABORATING ON PHOTOGRAPHER MICKEY AND TAXIDERMIST IGGY

Also @tidalrace made an extremely good point and honestly yes, that is exactly what I think they wanted us to think with Mickey st first. The poor hygiene plus the violence plus the animal skulls plus the taxidermy plus the satan symbols: yes. I think they wanted us to think Mickey was or was going to become a serial killer/murderer.

But if we are thinking/theorizing within the canon universe and not irl then I think it was Mickey trying to come off as sketchy/edgy/badass thug. I think all of that was a manifestation of Mickey's inner suppressed emo boy.

So first up is here's a box on top of the wardrobe behind Ian:

Again, super blurry, but it says "Jump Boots". Jump boots are typical boot styles for people in the airforce... so I think Mickey had a similar idea to Ian. I think Mickey had a plan to escape T*rry by entering the airforce, but he was just barely 17 when he met Ian so he wasn't eligible yet. Then by the time he was 18 he had been in juvie twice, and then there was no way.

And actually I looked them up and they're Carolina Jump Boots, very popular among Paratroopers.

And this last one for this room isn't particularly a room analysis but I still want to add it in:

Top picture is Mickey's hand tattoo next to T*rry's, and the bottom picture is the poster in his room.

Obviously knuckle tattoos are a theme here and we know Mickey's are sort of iconic. There are a lot of people who headcanon Ian as bring in love with his hand tattoos and honestly I agree.

But what I want you to imagine today is many many years down the road, Mickey and Ian are raising their daughter, she's 16 now. And she's basically a mini Mickey, with the edgy clothing and spikey hair and the attitude and one day after a party with friends she comes home with a shitty knuckle tattoo done by one of her friends with a stick and poke and at first Mickey and Ian are upset. Mickey is a little proud at first but Ian kinda elbows him and mutters that she's only 16 and gonna have that for the rest of her life, and Mickey has to pretend to be upset while Ian scolds her and then she mutters under her breath "I just wanted a tattoo like dad's" and it's quiet for a moment and she says "I didn't think you would be angry"

And then Ian relaxes and he's like "no, I'm not angry. Here let's see them" and on her knuckles is "Fuck U-Up" just like her dad's and Mickey says "they look like shit but they're thing enough we can get them covered professionally".

And then I got screenshots from his room in season 3 so guess what's next 🤪

In the back of these screenshot is a walkie talkie. At this point Mickey and Iggy are both in their dads criminal business and I would be willing to bet money that what these are for.

It starts with Iggy and Mickey coming up with dumb code names for each other that they take very seriously and will get offended about if the other slips up/doesn't use them while on the walkies.

*Mickey handing Iggy a walkie before a job* "Remember we have code names for a reason. Fucking use them"

"You forget code names one time and then you get nagged for the rest of your life-"

Then it goes from just code names to code words then code saying and slowly they begin to develop this code language that only Iggy and Mickey understand and then they start to get ballsy about using it. Using it outside of walkies, using it in every day life, and then one day Iggy talks back to T*rry under his breath using the code words and Mickey's eyes near about pop out of his head and Iggy snaps to look at him, waiting for his brother to rat... but he doesn't. And now they use it all the time, from talking shit about people right in front of them (especially T*rry and his buddies) to "hey can you get some milk while you're at the store".

Mandy is really the only one who cares enough to catch on so one day when they're shootin' the shit in this secret code language Mandy corners them and is like "I know you're using some kind of code bullshit and you're going to teach me it or else" and Mickey and Iggy are like "or else what?" And Mandy is like "or else I won't make dinner for a week. You'll have to make it yourself-" and Mickey scoffs and is like "a week, that's it?" And that was the wrong thing to say cause Mandy crosses her arms and says "for a month" and they're quiet, contemplating it, and then Mandy says "two months-" and they're like "Alright alright" and now all three of them have this secret language they use.

Now for this next screenshot I have two thoughts. At first glance I thought this was a vintage speaker which sprouted its own series of headcanons but I think it's actually a tool box. Now, logically, this is probably for crime but also here's why I think he has a tool box just chilling in his room.

Growing up shit was breaking all the time. Either from testosterone fulled rage or never being replaced even far past their prime, things were breaking in the Milkovich house all the time. And it's not like they could afford to replace things like sinks or toilets or fridges, and sure they could steal things but it would be so much faster and easier for Mickey to just learn how to fix that shit himself.

So when Mickey is about 8 or 9 Iggy gets (steals) him some tools of his own and teaches Mickey the basics and that's it, Mickey is lost. He cannot stop fixing things. Every time something breaks he jumps to fix it, and when there's nothing to fix he'll take things apart just so he can put them back together again.

As Mickey gets older he gets more skill and more tools and in his preteens/early teens he starts building things. Putting things together crudely in an abandoned old building.

Stealing sketchbooks from walmart to fill with ideas of inventions and floor layouts for houses and toy designs and car designs, really anything he can create with his hands.

Hiding these sketchbooks under his mattress, jumping when he hears someone come home and leaping to shove it under the mattress (as carefully as he can to not rip the paper while still trying to be fast), his heart pounding out of his chest as he tries to act natural, feeling as though he's not breathing until at least 10 minutes later.

Next, from this screenshot:

I would like to point out this in the background:

Yes. That is the same taxidermied crocodile head from season 1... in a metal cage.

I could see this going two ways (one funny and one kinda sad):

1) it started as a really dumb joke, like Iggy saw it in someone's trash and brought it home for Mickey's "pet gator" and he never really expected Mickey to put the head in the cage but Mickey wanted to know if it would fit and it did but now he can't figure how to get it out so he just has a taxidermied alligator head in a cage in his bedroom.

2) Mickey had some sort of pet, a hamster or a rat or a ferret (I could 100% see him with a ferret) and while he was in juvy everyone sort of forgot he had it and then it died. It started to stink so Iggy was going to throw it out, cage and everything, but Mandy stopped him. That afternoon Mandy took the pet out of the cage, wrapped it up in a pillow case and put it in a shoe box and then dug a hole in the back yard to bury it. She knew Mickey would be upset when he got out, though he would never admit it, and so she leaves the cage in case he wants to get another one. But when he gets out and hears what happened, he is upset, but instead of getting another he decides he's not getting another pet until he leaves. He keeps the cage as a reminder as to why he can't have a pet. Mandy says it's depressing and tells him either to get another pet or get rid of the cage. He spots the gator head and a light bulb goes of. He puts the alligator head in the cage and is like "Happy?" And she just looks at him before saying something like "this isn't healthy Mickey, let go" and then walks out in a huff.

Now this one is so blurry you can probably not tell what it is but if you rewatch the scene (at your risk of your heart shriveling up in your chest) you will see those are string lights. Mickey has fairy lights in his bedroom, confirmed.

I can see Mickey being the kind of guy to have string lights lining his room or dangling from his bed frames. And whenever Ian tries to comment on them, like "Oh fairy lights aren't too gay but holding my hand is?" Mickey just tells him to fuck off, "You can get the fuck out of my room if you don't like it".

I think I got another part in me so I'll see yall in part 4

[mieohmy]

𝖢𝗈𝗆𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗍 𝟣𝟢𝟣 | 𝖫𝖾𝖾 𝖩𝖾𝗇𝗈

PAIRING: lee jeno x reader

GENRE: angst, fluff, humor, comfort, established relationship au, college au,  this rly is just a self indulgent fic kjasdfk

WC: 2.1k

NOTES: slight argument/fighting ?? , cursing

SUMMARY: jeno wants your attention, your comforting presence, your love- he simply wants you.

for the bday boy that i treasure sm! happy birthday to puppy jeno <333

ღ

The phone next to you lies untouched, and practically has been for days- or has it been a week already? I mean, it wasn’t your fault that upcoming finals had been taking you to the depths of hell, and you had no choice but to lock yourself at home to study for a week on end. 

Which brings you to day 7? 8? of being holed up in your room all day, memorizing a bazillion tiny printed words and trying to cram as much information as possible in that overworked brain of yours. Getting about 4-5 hours of sleep a day, you couldn’t remember anymore- or even care to remember. Not to mention the added stress that came along with being any normal college student. Wasn’t life just wonderful?

You feel bad for everyone that has tried to contact you over this stressful period in your life (since you completely turned your phone off to eliminate all distractions), but the urge to stop studying completely and just check up on the real world and all its happenings grows stronger. You breathe in -out, constantly chanting ‘self-control’ over and over again in your head. Then your eyes slowly open, and you slap yourself one last time as if to say ‘get it together' before diving back into the books.

Just two more days. Two more days and you can finish and not have to stress about finals until results come out. 

At this point, you were surviving off of coffee, tea, random stolen snacks that your boyfriend would bring over from his dorm. 

Damn, when’s the last time you had a proper meal? Monday?

And then you frown. What day even is it today? You glance at your calendar and- 

Goodness grief, it’s Sunday already. 

You almost have a midlife crisis over wasting basically a week doing nothing but sitting at your desk and looking at words, but then again at this point- you’re just over it and want to be done as soon as possible. 

But soon, a weird feeling arises after you recall today’s date- like you were forgetting something. You place a hand over your forehead. Was there something important today? 

And as if the universe read your mind, the doorbell rings.

A giant wave of confusion washes over you. Was someone supposed to come over today?

-and you just completely wiped it from your mind?

You’re still running through your memories as you walk to the door. No, it's not Chae since she has finals too...

Opening it, you’re not at all expecting who was behind it. 

“Jeno-?”

He blinks back at your wide eyes, expression turning concerned, and you rub your temples in exasperation and defeat. 

“Oh, did we have a date today or something? I’m so sorry- I totally forgot.”

His eyebrows furrow. “No, I was just supposed to come over to hang out with you....”

“It’s been so long since we last talked, baby. You haven’t responded to any of my texts. What’s going on?” He promptly adds, staring intently at you. 

You let out a sigh, and jeno notices your tense shoulders and dark under-eye circles. “I thought you knew. Finals are coming up so I’ve been stuck at home cramming for about a week now actually.” 

His frown deepens. “I did know. And still, y/n..” he says in a warning tone. 

You know what his voice implies, you’ve heard it plenty of times at this point, but right now you don’t have to energy to listen to his nagging. “ I know, I know. Just- come in, I guess.....”

To be completely honest, you wanted to send jeno back home- there was still a lot more information left to cover and you obviously weren’t in your best condition, but he was the one who actually remembered your ‘date’ and drove to your place, so you would feel even worse making him go all the way back to his dorm. 

Jeno easily follows you in, biting the inside of his cheek to hold back any comments while examining your place even though barely anything has changed since he last visited- mostly because there was nothing to change when you were in your room all day. 

You walk to the kitchen, getting your boyfriend some water while yawning. Meanwhile, your mind is drifting away, thinking about what topics are left that you have to go over later. “What are we even doing today?” 

Jeno plops on your couch, arms behind his head. “I don’t know. A movie?”

You hide your grimace, immediately thinking of how much time would be wasted watching one, or possibly even more if jeno was feeling it. In the one to two hours of a movie, you could be done with chapter two and three-

“Y/n??”

Your head snaps up. “Yes?”

“Are you gonna come over here or just stand there in the kitchen all day?” he teases.

You shake your head to clear the fog and join jeno on the couch. Scrolling through the options, you automatically snuggle up next to him, eyes blearily watching the moving tv screen. 

He decides on this one animated film, and you’re too drained to pay attention so you simply nod and let the movie begin. But even though you try your best to focus on the storyline and what’s currently going on, your mind keeps wandering off to other, more boring things- your studies, obviously. 

The number of chapters you covered, the slight of chapters you have left, how long you would have to stay up to finish going through your planned amount of information  -all the stressful thoughts swirling in your head, and it only exhausts you more. 

You let out a sigh, and jeno turns to you. “Are you okay? You’ve been sighing nonstop since we started the movie.” 

You clear your throat, biting back a yawn. “Oh- yeah, sorry. I won’t do it anymore.”

Your boyfriend stiffens but doesn’t say anything, attention returning to the flashing screen in front of him. 

You did try. You really did. But your eyelids keep drifting shut and your head keeps slowly lolling forward and snapping back up -it’s not until your forehead accidentally knocks against jeno’s chest that he finally speaks up again. 

“Y/n. You need to take a break and get some sleep. Now.” His tone is sharp and commanding. 

You snap your eyes back open, vision blurry. “No- it’s fine. I’m good, let’s keep watching.” 

The immediate switch in the air is scary, jeno swiftly reaching for the remote and pausing the movie to look at you dead straight in the eyes before setting it back down with a loud, clattering noise. “You need to rest. I can tell from how tired you look, and I know you’ve been studying for so long, so why is it that hard to just relax for a little?” 

You groan, distress breaking through. “I can’t, okay? You already understand how stressful school is and how important my upcoming tests are. I know you’re just trying to be kind and thoughtful but-“ 

“But what?” He cuts you off, the frustration he’s been hiding for a while finally revealing itself. “Taking a rest from burning your brain out isn’t going to kill you, y/n.”

Your hands at your side clench and unclench, a wave of emotions overcoming you. “I know that. But I can’t afford to have a break now.” Everything suddenly feels overwhelming, and your voice comes out strained and uncontrolled. 

“I’m almost there, jeno. It’s so close, and if I stop now, I’ll feel like a failure.”

He laughs a short and echoing bark. “How do you think I feel? I was trying to brush everything aside and act like it was all fine, but it’s certainly not when you’re like this.”

You falter. 

Jeno gets up, making direct eye contact with you even though his body is trembling and his voice is shaky. 

“I spent the past week just lying in bed and worrying about you- if you were eating okay and getting enough sleep. I was constantly texting you reminders to take care of yourself, only to find out from your friend that you turned your phone completely off.  Do you know how shitty of a person I was feeling? I didn’t want to be a distraction to you because I know how much you care about your grades, but it’s killing me, y/n. I want to be there for you, but instead, I end up feeling like the worst boyfriend in the world.” 

He shudders before continuing,

“And then I come here, brushing off all my worries since I was super excited to finally be with you after so long, and then I have to see you in such a bad condition. Barely taking care of yourself, barely even surviving on your own just so you can pass your exams that I know you’ll already do well on no matter what. As your boyfriend who wants to help and be here for you, do you know how much my heart hurts?”  

He finishes, but not before wiping away the frustrated tears that appeared in his angry rant.

It takes one beat -two beats, before you immediately spring up, rushing towards jeno and throwing your arms around him. 

He accepts it, burying his face into your shoulder and wrapping his arms tightly around your waist. 

The guilt courses through your body, and you understand. The consequences of your actions hit you, hard, and you know you deserve it all. Jeno just wants to know that you’re here. You’re here with him.

“I’m really sorry,” you murmur into his hair, “I’m really, really sorry, jeno.” 

You hate the fact that you can still feel the slight wetness of his tears soaking through your-technically his- shirt. You pull back, looking straight into his eyes to make sure he knows you’re being genuine.

“I promise to pay more attention to myself, and I promise I won’t ever let it happen again. I won’t shut you out anymore... and you can come over to take care of me whenever you want, okay?”

Jeno slowly nods, and you softly wipe away the corners of his red eyes of any wetness.

He pulls you closer to him again, inhaling your scent one more time, and you finally let yourself go. 

After about a minute of just enjoying each other’s warm embrace - one that you feel like you haven’t felt in so long- you allow yourself to smile and pull back just enough to place a kiss on his cheek. 

“Was my baby just lonely and missed me too much?” you sing in a soft voice. He lets out a disgruntled noise in response, shaking his head against your body. 

But you both know what the answer is.

“C’mon, let’s go to bed.” You tug his arm easily to your room, putting off your studies, at least for today.

“You’re really gonna take a break this time?” Jeno asks, eyeing you carefully. 

You grin. “Yes? Besides, I know you’re always down for cuddles.” 

You drag him to the bed, taking his arms and wrapping them around your body as exhaustion quickly fills you. 

You fight yourself to stay awake as long as you can to enjoy jeno’s presence, but he notices and hugs you even closer if possible, whispering softly, “Go to sleep, baby. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

And before you finally drift off, you sleepily murmur, “I love you, jeno. Like, a lot.” 

Even after you fall asleep in his embrace, he stares down at you, softly kissing your forehead.

I love you too. 

bonus bc i adore jeno too much :

“Jeno- for the last time, you’re not a bad boyfriend.”

“I know.... but-“

You shut him up with a quick kiss.

“You’re the sweetest.”

Another kiss.

“Funniest.”

Peck.

“Handsomest.” 

His ever so growing smile freezes. Jeno looks at you, a surprisingly solemn look on his face. 

You raise an eyebrow, confused. 

“......even more than Nam joo hyuk?”

Ah. He had to go for the favorite actor. 

You swallow, battling an intense internal war before begrudgingly nodding. “Okayyy...fine. You are.”  

He crosses his arms. “I’m what?”

You roll your eyes, whining. “I already said it!”

Jeno shakes his head firmly. “Say the whole thing.”

You take a deep breath in, internally apologizing to your beloved actor. “......you, lee -verymuchanannoyingbaby- jeno, are more handsome than Nam joo hyuk.” Your sentence is finished swiftly in one breath, words slurring together. It actually pains you to say that. But it’s good enough for your boyfriend. 

Jeno delights in the squeal you let out when he picks you up in his arms to spin you around. 

“Fuck yeah- take that, nam joo hyuk!”

ღ

a/n: anyways im going to go hide away and cry over jeno now ^^

[hewwocopter]

Irony

Monkey King was always awful at keeping secrets.

Posted on Ao3 as well! (1395 words)

MK caught Monkey King rubbing his left eye. He frowned at the sight of it; it had been itching a lot lately, by what Monkey King had said when MK first questioned him about it.

“It’s no big deal, bud. It’s just healing.”

Healing from what? His mentor had never explained what had caused him to return so late, covered in scratches and minor injuries nonetheless.

What concerned MK the most was that while the simain’s injuries were healing steadily, the nick above his left eye was not. The cut eyebrow refused to grow back, and the line began to form into the beginnings of… a scar.

Now Monkey King was constantly scratching at the eye, rubbing at it in every spare moment he was on the ship.

He wasn’t the only one who had noticed of course, MK had shared a glance with Tang after a particular instance that Monkey King was sweeping the deck of the ship (he was given the job as to not overexert himself, much to his dismay). He had paused and cursed under his breath, and upon the observant looks of Tang and MK, he remarked he had gotten some dust in his eyes.

Yeah, MK snorted in disbelief as the king turned away. For the fourteenth time that day. Tang didn’t look as though he had believed him either, but he chose not to comment. Monkey King was awful at keeping secrets, it would seem.

MK had decided he was finally going to get to the bottom of this, once and for all. By confronting his mentor about the problem at hand.

Before he could do that, however, Monkey King yelled and jumped away from his sweeping spot. The broom clattered to the floor, and in its place a puff of purple smoke erupted.

“It’s Macaque, everyone get back-“ Monkey King started, before he was cut off by snickering.

“Aww, Peaches. You ruined the surprise.” A blurry visage could be seen in the smoke, before Monkey King cleared it with a brush of his hand. “Come on. A little element of mystery never hurt anyone.”

MK couldn’t believe his eyes. Macaque was here on the ship! But how?

Macaque turned over to the boy, ignoring Monkey King. The others began to emerge from different parts of the ship from the noise.

“Uhhh who the heck is that?” Pigsy questioned. “You said Macaque? Who the heck is-“ He was cut off by Mei.

Mei’s priorities lay somewhere else. “Evil Monkey King?”

Tang and Sandy both remained silent, opting to observe the situation.

“Good to see you’re still alive, kid.” The shadow smirked.

“Excuse me.” Monkey King cleared his throat, making himself known. “I’m giving you five seconds to get the hell off this ship before I throw you off of it.”

Macaque finally faced Monkey King, looked him up and down, and guffawed. His lighter counterpart looked rightly offended at the disrespect that the other was showing and snarled.

“Oh, this is rich!” Macaque hugged himself and doubled over in laughter, while the others looked on in confusion. Monkey King only glared. “You seriously think you can take me on right now? Like that? Come on!”

While MK was still a little peeved at his mentor for leaving him on ‘vacation’, he wasn’t angry at him and therefore felt a right to defend him. “Hey! He can kick your a-“ A sharp look from Pigsy cut him right off. “euh- butt- any day of the week!”

Macaque wiped a tear off his face. “Doubt that, kiddo.” He straightened himself, addressing the crew. “Well, not right now at least. I’m surprised he still has enough power to hold up that glamour.”

Monkey King froze.

“What glamour?” Tang questioned.

MK slowly turned to face towards the monkey in question, who in turn slowly began to avoid his gaze.

“Uhhhh…”

Macaque decided to pour more salt onto the wound. “I guess it is sort of… eye-ronic. But also kind of a waste? I mean… you could be saving your powers for something more useful.”

Oh. Oh shit.

Sandy’s brows furrowed. “Monkey King, what is he talking about?”

“I don’t know, big guy.” Monkey King laughed nervously. “I don’t know if you’ve met this guy, probably not, but he’s a trickster. A liar. I wouldn’t trust him if I were you.”

“Oh ho ho, you wound me.” Macaque pretended to swoon, placing a paw over his heart. But his grin remained razor sharp. “Just like your eye. Who did that to you?”

MK’s heart dropped.

His suspicions were confirmed.

All eyes went on Wukong.

“You son of a bitch.” Monkey King growled out. “Nothing happened. Drop it.”

“Can you just give it up already?” Macaque sighed, shrugging. “We already know the jig is up. Gods, you were always horrible at keeping secrets.”

The king didn’t move, insisting on standing in place glaring at the other. The macaque stared back.

“Monkey King.” MK started, causing the older to startle and look over at him with wide eyes. “Please.”

They remained like that for a few moments, before the king finally relented. He sighed, air leaving him as well as a few wisps of magic.

MK knew what was coming, but he couldn’t hold back the gasp at what he saw. He wasn’t the only one either, as Mei dropped her phone and Sandy nearly lost his grip on Mo.

A milky white eye stared back at him. It wasn’t as intense as what Macaque’s had been by any means, but it still sent him reeling. It had healed mostly fine, with only a few blemishes in the skin here and there.

“I didn’t want you to see.”

“What?” MK found that the words tumbled out of him before he could stop them.

Monkey King’s gaze hardened. Even with that one eye out of commission, it held so much emotion. “You’d be discouraged. Right? The amazing Monkey King. Great Sage Equal to Heaven. Half blind. Partially deaf.”

MK’s eyes widened. “Wait, you’re-“

The monkey continued, wiggling his finger. “Can’t use my shapeshifting powers anymore. So, you know, that’s probably a good sign.” He heaved a heavy, self deprecating sigh. “You know when that started?”

Everyone was silent.

“After I gave you my powers.”

What.

Wait, then that would mean...

The simian cut that line of thinking off right away. “I want to tell you this now. This was never your fault, MK. I chose you as my successor for a reason.” Monkey King walked over to the boy and took a hold of the boy’s hand. “This was how it was meant to be.”

“What do you mean?!” MK sputtered out. “You mean that Lady Bone Demon-“

“Well, no! Not her, no! I was supposed to take on anything that you couldn’t handle, I was supposed to be at your side.”

“Holy shit.” Pigsy muttered. “It’s happening. Actual communication.”

Tang hushed him.

Macaque snorted.

Monkey King ignored the three. “But Spider Queen happened. Lady Bone Demon happened. It was a lot more than I thought you could handle, and while I was right, I should have never kept you in the dark about it. I know I’ve been a shitty mentor, but I’m learning as much as you are right now.”

MK nodded in agreement to his words. “So, are you going to teach me more?”

Monkey King smiled. “Of course, bud. Especially more of the fighting stuff. While we can’t really use our powers at the moment… there are other methods we can use.”

“So, like…” MK turned to Macaque, who smirked.

“That’s right, kid. You can never have too many teachers. Right?”

Monkey King started to reply, before Mei cut him off with an inquiry. “Yeah, so uh, who are you? Like a hot version of Monkey King?”

“A hot version of m- excuse me?!” Monkey King squawked in indignation. “I am too hot!”

“I’m not so sure about that Peaches…” Macaque drawled.

Monkey King whirled on the macaque. “You used to date me, so you definitely thought I was hot! So shut up!”

You what?!” MK screeched.

That was the breaking point for the crew. They all broke out in noise, all firing questions at the two.

“Look what you’ve done.” The simian groaned. “I should have thrown you off the ship when I first saw you.”

“Aww, you love me.”

[dollymadness]

I have request: bakugo, tamaki, mirio reacting to reader yelling at them. Make it angsty. Pls. Hi btw. 👀

heyy muah 😽

mirio togata (x abusive reader)

"Hi, sunshine!" Mirio was late for the date. Again.

"Where were you?" You ask, with a extremely polite tone, and his eyes already loose all the light they had when he saw you.

"I'm sorry, darling, Eri wanted to play a little more and i-"

"And again you choose her over me, right? I'm starting to figure out your priorities in life." You insist on the calm, low way to say your words, and stare at him with murder eyes.

"She is a little girl... i love her as... as a daughter. H-how can you say something like that..." Mirio is starting to breakdown, starting to doubt his own feelings.

"I'm being realistic." You grab his arm and stick your nails deep on his skin. "She is not your daughter, and you'll never be able to cover the emptiness she already holds. Only a fool like you to think that she could ever see you as a father figure... All you do is be clingy and annoying around her!" Togatas eyes drops to the ground and he plays with the sleeve of his shirt to avoid the tears.

"It's ok if she does not see me like that..." He offers you a depressed smile. "All i want is to ease her pain, even if it's just a little. And i need to take care of her-"

"Of course... guess i'm just overeacting again, sorry. I don't need your attention and support as she does..." You know exactly what to say to put some guilt on his back.

"No-no, don't say that! Your feelings are important to me too, and i'm so sorry that i let you down again, i swear i won't repeat this..."

"Tsc... the same thing you said last time. And here we are, having the same discussion... you're so dumb i swear-"

"I'm sorry... let's just... enjoy our date?"

"Hah- Funny how you say that you care but try to avoid the topic at all costs."

"I'm- fuck, how could i be so unsensitive...? do it, tell me everything you are feeling. I promise i'll fix."

"Don't make promises you can't keep. The only thing that could solve this problem would be you let go of this... this... stupid child!" You stop the pressure on his arm and start gentle massaging the place. "It's between me and her. I won't take excuses this time."

"But, but..." Mirio take a moment to think of the best words choice. "Eri makes me so happy... after i lost my quirk my days has been only her... she helps me to forget too..."

"DO I LOOK LIKE I CARE?" The tone makes him focus on you again.

"No..."

"SHUT UP. SHUT THE FUCK UP!" You point an accusing finger to his face and straight your posture.

Before talking again, you take a good, long, amused look at how destroyed he is. A tiny smile emerges.

"I don't have time to your FUCKING VICTMISM! 'After i lost my quirk' *cry noises* THAT'S BULLSHIT. DEAL WITH IT! RECOVER ALREADY, USELESS PIECE OF SHIT!" You push him.

"You're right..." Togata feels like an idiot. Why can't he just surpass the pain? Why does he need someone to do it? He has one simple task and he keeps failing.

Useless, useless, useless, useless, useless, useless, useless, useless, useless, useless, useless, useless, useless, useless, useless, useless, useless, useless, useless, useless, useless...

"DID I SAY THAT YOU COULD FUCKING SPEAK?" You aren't done with him yet. "WHY ARE YOU SO ANNOYING? YOU... SELFISH BITCH! Can't you think of others feelings for once? Damn..."

Mirio is taking everything you give him with a fake smile, but he can't stop the tears. You're right, you always are.

Is his fault. If only he had make to the date in time, if he was able to not always talk about himself-

"ANSWER ME NOW, UNWANTED TRASH!"

"I'm being so s-selfish..." The tears empaze his words in a way that would be painful to anyone that watched, but not for you. Tears mean that you won. "I apologize for being uncapable to solve my own problems... Please..."

"I'm done with this. Have fun babysitting Eri, because you just lost me." You proceed to walk away, but Togata runs to you.

"I can't do this alone. Don't leave me, please! I swear i'll be good, i will be always happy to you and you won't even notice my selfish problems. I promise, just please, PLEASE..." Mirio begging after all the yelling, all the bad things he heard... is the prove you needed that he is eating on the palm of your hand.

"I don't need a fucking dependent on my back!" With this, the sweet smile finally fades as he lets out a sad whimper.

"NO! I love you so much, give me just one more chance!" None of the "other times" were his fault either, but he felt as it was.

"I can't, you are destroying me, Mirio...."

"It wasn't the intention..." You turn away and he starts panicking. "I'LL DO ANYTHING, I'M BEGGING!"

"I already told you what i want you to do." You know that you're incisive and painfully killing any sign of joy he once saw.

"Sure, i-i will..." He is a crying mess, just to think that he would have to give up on his favorite person to have you.

"Amazing... Are you crying, love? Aw, don't be like that, shh... I'm sorry, i took it too far. I need to learn how to hide my feelings... shh.... It's ok." You hug him and pats his head, he doesn't stop crying. (this is not comfort and it's not a soft ending for clear reasons)

All the insults spin on his head, as he shakily curls into your chest.

Tamaki:

"Fairy... really, Tamaki?" The question floated in the air, as Amajiki only stared at his hands.

"S-she is m-my friend..."

Were she inducing him into flirt? Yes.

But did he tried to stop it? No.

You got so mad, watching your boyfriend sit there and watch as his "friend" threw herself to him.

"And because she is your friend, you think you are allowed to flirt with her?" It felt like you were dealing with a child, holding back your anger and jealousy so he don't get hurt.

"W-wasn't flirtying..."

"Oh, right. So how do you call it?"

"C-complimenting my friend..?" He makes himself as smaller as he can and waits, never staring at you.

"Are you playing dumb with me? She was obviously seducing you and you didn't move an inche!" It's so tiring how he can't stand for himself.

"I was being friendly..."

"FRIENDLY?" He flinches, starting to tremble and whisper to himself. "YOU WOULD'VE CHEATED ON ME IF I DIDN'T STOP HER!"

"N-no..." Tamaki hates screams so much.

"LIAR! STOP ACTING LIKE YOU ARE TOO INNOCENT, IT'S SO-"

You look at Tamaki and he is sobbing, asking for forgiviness but is barely audible. It breaks your heart when he starts punching himself.

The world is all blurry to Amajikis, he hates this part of his personality so much, and you were the only one that he thought understands him, that you understood how hard it is for him, but he is trying his best.

"Tamaki?" You were calling him since you noticed that you were screaming, but he spaced out. "I'm sorry, oh my god, answer me-"

The only one he thought fully understands...

"Sorry, baby!!! Look at me, oh fuck!"

Liar? Cheater? Is this all you have to say about him? Coudn't be more caring with the words?

Is in times like this that we really get to know someone, he ponders.

"I-i-i c-can't d-do this any-anymore..." He then runs for his life.

Amajiki told Mirio and Nejire about everything, and aa the protectors they are, both helped him to avoid you as the month passed.

Came to the point that Tamaki alone didn't look at you anymore, your face alone make him feel anxious.

and that was when you knew that the lovebirds feel apart.

Bakugo

"LEAVE ME ALONE!" Katsuki was raging, for the third time this week.

"Angel, i would like it better if we sit here and talk..."

"Who cares about what you think?" He is stubborn, you can tell after 2 years of dating.

"Katsuki, stop being immature for a minute." You aren't on the mood to take his drama today, and he doesn't notice that he is crossing a line.

"What about YOU stop being A WHORE, SHITTY PERSON!"

Katsuki is mad at you for posting a pic with your guy bestfriend. His jealousy is getting out of hand, the photo has none romantic appealing.

"You better apologize now." You're firm with him, not backing up even when the little explosions start on his hands.

"I am the one to apologize? Fuck no."

"I literally did nothing wrong and you are screaming, of course you are going to apologize!"

"NOTHING WRONG?" Bakugo walks away so he won't hurt you. "YOU AND THAT LOSER POSTING PHOTOS TOGHETER WAS WHAT? A NIGHTMARE?" he replys to you and proceeds to spit.

"You're... disgusting, you know that?"

"SHUT UP! I'm very dissapointed with-"

"YOU KNOW WHAT? I DON'T GIVE A FUCK!" You suddenly stand for yourself, gaining confidence out of nowhere.

Katsuki is silent. He just heavy breaths and stare at you with seems like fear.

"I DON'T GIVE A SINGLE FUCK TO WHAT YOU THINK!" You yell and he is taken aback by your response, closing his eyes and trying to take more air.

"I HATE YOU! I CAN'T DEAL WITH THIS ANYMORE, IT'S USELESS!" You start taking your things to walk away. "I won't insist into a failed relationship anymore."

He can't move.

All those years, he was the one pointing fingers at you, he was the one accusing.

And he doesn't know what to do now.

Katsuki is still upset, and his pride says to stay right where he is and pray for you to come back.

But he is not cold hearted as it seems, he wants you more than anything. Maybe he should give up only this time

Or maybe not.

Yes.

No.

Yes.

No.

YES

NO!!!

YES!!!!!!

By the time he is able to decide, you are already out of his sigh, out of the shopping you guys had agreed to met in, and you are out of your rational state.

Katsuki was not able to find you that day.

Katsuki was not able to fix it.

End </3

[therenlover]

Brutal (A Demon!Daniel Bruhl x Starlet!Reader Ficlet)

(So, this is the first little ficlet in my Sour series, which can be found HERE! I hope you enjoy it! Also, enjoy blurry Checo, because he’s who @creme-bruhlee and I imagine as demon!Daniel)

“And I'm so tired that I might / Quit my job, start a new life / And they'd all be so disappointed / 'Cause who am I if not exploited?”

Synopsis: A crime of passion accidentally summons a handsome demon who offers to make your deepest desires come true... for a price, of course. 

Rating; M (16+)

Warnings: Vague Allusions to Past Dubcon/Noncon, Explicit Language, Implied Sexual Content, Non-Explicit Murder, Making A Deal With A Demon, Maybe A Tiny Bit Of Monsterfucking???? If You Squint??? Not Really Though

Word Count: 1500~

-------

“What is it that you desire?”

The man- no, creature- before you was shrouded in the darkest corner of your dressing room, perched languidly upon the chaise lounge that had been oh so kindly included in the rider of your contract by whatever filthy fucker decided they wanted to have you this time. He didn’t matter now, though. No, not now that his brains were splattered against the carpet. The only thing that mattered anymore was the creature in the corner. 

Even in the darkness, you could see its razor-sharp teeth glinting in the low light. 

Trembling with unused adrenaline, you smiled back at it, hands still covered in blood. “I’m not answering that until you answer a few questions of my own,” 

Surprisingly, the thing seemed to lean further back into its plush seat as it nodded, long pointed tail undulating slowly, like a python preparing to strike. “Very well. It makes no difference to me how long you draw out our little deal,” slowly, the thing chuckled, “Besides, for you, pretty one, I’d wait all the time in the world,” 

You groaned at his exaggerated wink. 

Still, it was too late to turn back now. With the blood on your hands for the death of the man at your feet, both physically and metaphorically, there was nowhere to go but forward. Maybe making a deal with the devil wasn’t your original plan, but it sure as hell was better than prison. With a sigh, you sat down heavily into your high-backed makeup chair. 

“So I’m assuming you’re a demon?”

The creature in the corner made some sort of deep, proud noise in its chest as its two, shadowy hands came up to stroke its curved horns, much like a goat’s, with a certain puff-chested reverence. Even while beholding it in that darkness, its features shrouded in black, there was an allure to the strange monster, a strange, sick draw. You were helpless to whatever had appeared before you and all its powers. Somehow, though, you had seemed to intrigue it despite your comparative weakness. 

“I go by many names, but demon is one of them,” it purred, red eyes glinting with something more than bloodlust, “I prefer others,”

“What should I call you then?”

“Whatever you please,”

You scoffed. “You said you had many names, why can’t you tell me even one?”

It huffed a long sigh, and if you didn’t know better, you would’ve said that you saw smoke erupt from where its nostrils should be. 

That being said, it didn’t seem like the thing was frustrated. If anything, the creature seemed amused. From its words, you could only assume it had been hundreds of years since it had last entertained itself on the human realm. You could only hope your rage was entertaining enough to keep any of its less desirable emotions at bay. 

“Names have power, Schatz. I can’t just go around telling everybody who I am,” it’s accent felt thicker as it leaned back, “but I suppose, if you and I were to make a deal, that I could allow you to name me something. Or I could choose one for you,”

“What if I didn’t make deal with you?” you challenged the creature with a smirk. 

It hummed low in its chest as it pondered your question. “Now that would be no fun,” 

“For me or for you?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest. Time was getting short now, with the clock on the wall ticking down the minutes until someone would arrive at your dressing room door to lead you out towards the set where the rest of the cast and crew were waiting. If they found you with the body it was over. Things with the demon needed to be resolved, and they needed to be resolved fast. 

Thankfully, it didn’t toy with you any more than you expected it to. 

“For both of us,” it replied, tail flicking almost excitedly, “I can’t touch you if we don’t make a deal, for better or for worse, and even then your soul wouldn’t be mine to toy with until the deal was complete. That being said, you’re in a pretty sticky situation. I think you need me just about as much as I need you, so I’ll ask again; What do you desire?”

You swallowed thickly. 

On one hand, you couldn’t imagine things would end up very pleasantly for you once the dark shadow who had staked its claim on that awful chaise lounge finally did have a chance to get its clawed hands on your soul. On the other hand, though, you had nothing left to lose. Fame, especially so young, always came at a price. You would wager to guess that even if your soul hadn’t been claimed by a demon, that it had already been stolen away by the producers and directors that pulled the strings of your life like you were some obedient little puppet dancing for an audience who wanted to devour you whole. 

In the end, an eternity in Hell with whatever was grinning at you like the Cheshire cat from the shadows might even be preferable to the horrors you’d already seen. 

Slowly, you answered its question. 

“I want to make every single person who ever took advantage of me suffer the same pain they put me through,” 

The creature’s face split into a toothy smile. 

“Now that’s what I like to hear,” 

Moving like smoke on water, it stood from its place on the chaise lounge, morphing in shape and size as it approached and held out it’s newly human-shaped hand to you. In his new form, at least, you assumed it was a he, the creature was handsome, all dark eyes and slick hair. He looked young, and somehow, even with his new, thin lips and human teeth, he retained his signature smile. You took his hand and shook it without hesitation.

Even with your heart beating almost out of your chest, you had to admit that, with a demon at your side, you felt more empowered than you ever had before. 

He noticed. 

“I am known to my kin as Asmodeus,” he cooed, long eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks as he drew near to you. You couldn’t bring yourself to mind, “You, though, my sweetest pet, may call me Daniel,” 

Daniel. 

Somehow, even after you had seen the faintest traces of his beastly form, you had to admit that the name suited him. Maybe not as well as Asmodeus, but it worked well enough. You looked up at him through lidded eyes. “I’m-”

Before you could answer, he pressed a finger to your rouged lips. 

“I know everything about you sweetling, no need for introductions. There is one last thing we need to do to seal the deal, though,” 

A pit formed in your stomach as you gulped, caught in Daniel’s entrancing gaze. You had to assume there was some sort of magic to it, a spell that kept you trapped for all long as he could stare down into your eyes. Still, it would do you no good to fight it. Besides, the pangs that were making their way through your whole being weren’t fear. 

Oh no, they were something much worse. 

“What do we need to do?” You asked, wetting your lips with your tongue. 

Daniel replied with a sly smile and a soft chuckle. “I need you to kiss me, of course,” 

Who were you to disagree with the expert?

With all the strength and bravery you could muster, you surged up and met Daniel’s lips with your own, melting into the kiss as he quickly took over, skilled tongue darting into your mouth to claim it as his own. He bit hard on your lip, hard enough to draw blood, but you couldn’t bring yourself to mind, not when your hands were busy exploring up under his shirt and finding purchase on the firm muscles that waited below. 

To be fair, he wasn’t exactly keeping his hands to himself either.

Sooner than you would have liked, though, Daniel was pulling his lips away from yours. It was just a fraction of an inch, your swollen mouths still connected by a string of saliva tinted a dark red with your blood, but you were already keening from the loss of him the second you caught your breath. The sound pleased him. 

“What are we to do first, sweetling?” he purred, letting his nails run gently against the soft skin of your waist, “I’m at your command,” His breath was hot against your fact, and he smelled like gun smoke. 

It drove you wild. 

You snuck a look at the clock before turning back to him, eyes aflame. “In about ten minutes we’ll need to have the mess in here cleaned up with any evidence gone, but before we do that, I want you- no, I need you to fuck me. Can you make that happen?”

Daniel beamed. 

“Oh, sweet girl, anything is possible with me at your side,” As he whipped you around to push you against the chaise lounge, licking his lips, he couldn’t help but add, “I believe this is the beginning of a very beneficial partnership,” 

And against all odds, as you hooked a leg up around his waist and pulled him in for another searing kiss, you had to agree.

--------

a/n: WOW WOW WOW THAT WAS GARBAGE BUT I LOVED IT. I finished season 5 of Lucifer yesterday, so I was in the mood for some demonic shit. I hope it was at least semi-enjoyable despite being straight up shitty writing lol. 

Taglist: @tatestripedsweater , @elaineygrace , @multiyfandomgirl40 ,  @lovelymischief , @be-cautious-around-bri 

[mello-jello]

Levihan Drabble Week - The Wrong Assumption

Here's my contribution, @levihan-drabbles . I chose the Hurt Levi/Caring Hange Trope. 1271 Words. This is set sometime after Isabel and Farlan die, and before Levi becomes a captain.

Two new recruits drove the wagon that carried Hange and Levi back to the safety of wall Maria. It was an unpleasant ride, to say the least. The constant bumps and rattling of the cart did them no favours. Levi laid on his right side, both arms above his head, firmly clutching the opposite elbows, so his upper arms cradled his head, covered his ears and blocked out some noise. He also had his cloak draped over his face to block out light.

Hange was on her left side, propped up by two blankets rolled up on either side of her to prevent her back from moving too much. She used her left arm for extra support, while her right arm was tightly bound to her torso.

They got injured on the first day. And it was all Levi’s fault.

When the torturous wagon ride began, Levi couldn’t wait for it to be over, but now that they were back home and he was expected to move again, he almost wished the ride would have been longer. Levi hesitantly removed his cloak. The sun was setting, and the light was less harsh, but it hurt like hell and his vision was still blurry. He saw two Hanges sitting up, staring down at him.

“I got you a bucket,” Hange said, a little too loudly for Levi to handle. “You’re going to hurl”.

“Tck, shut up, Four-Eyes. I just need quiet”.

Levi winced as one of the recruits gently brought him to a seated position, when to his own surprise, he promptly vomited. Hange managed to catch most of it in the nick of time. Her left arm outstretched, pressing the bucket up to Levi’s chest.

“Ugh. Disgusting” Levi said, breathlessly. He gripped the side of the wagon to steady himself.

“I told you s-”

“Yeah, yeah, you told me so.” Levi dismissed, as he pushed the bucket back. “Now shut up, or the next one is going in your direction”.

He was lashing out and they both knew it.

The two of them were escorted to their respective quarters where they were seen by medical personnel. Levi had a severe concussion, Hange had a few bruised ribs and at least one was broken. Nothing they won’t heal from. However, their injuries were still serious enough for Ervin to order both of them to return to the barracks, while the rest of scouts carried on with the expedition. Levi couldn’t shake the guilt he was feeling. For screwing up. For getting Hange hurt. For getting himself hurt and being unable to continue the rest of the mission.

It took a few days, but once Levi was able to walk in a straight line, he decided it was time to get out of his room. He should check on Hange too. His head only hurt if he made sudden movements. He still squinted in the light, but it was tolerable. He headed to the kitchen, where he kept his good tea.

He slowly descended the stairs, where he found Hange sitting about halfway from the bottom, breathing hard. She held her glasses in her hand, as they had fogged up from her exerting herself. Beside her, sat a pot of tea.

��Oi, Four Eyes. What the hell?” He resisted the urge to kick her.

“Oh, h-hi Levi,” Hange managed to breath out. “Care for a cup of tea? It’s been so long that I half expected to find you dead in your room”.

He picked up the teapot and held it up to his nose, and scowled at the scent. “Ugh, this is way too strong. How long have you been steeping this?”

“Uhm, I guess how ever long I have been sitting on these stairs,” Hange replied sheepishly.

Levi’s chest swelled with an unfamiliar emotion. How was she this kind? Putting herself through this just to bring him tea? She should be pissed at him. She should be yelling at him. And he shouldn’t be getting away with his shitty attitude.

He looked back at her, and his face resembled that of a guilty child that just was caught red-handed. He didn’t know what to say. He crossed his arms and glared at the floor.

Hange put her glasses back on and said, “how about you help me back downstairs and you can show me how it’s done,” she pointed to the teapot in Levi’s hand.

Levi nodded. He gingerly helped Hange to her feet and placed her left arm around his shoulders so she could put most of her weight on that side. It was a slow pace, but Levi was grateful, for it did not exacerbate his concussion.

They arrived at the kitchen, Hange leaned on a tall stool while Levi emptied the teapot and started boiling water for a new one. He sat across the table from Hange, arms crossed. The only sound was the low hum of the kettle. Levi started to sway, he gripped the edge of the table so he wouldn’t fall over.

“Are you okay?’ Hange asked.

“Why aren’t you mad at me?” He blurted out before he could stop himself.

“Huh? Why would I be mad at you?”

They stared at each other in more confused silence for what felt like ages. Hange was trying to process the meaning behind Levi’s words, and Levi was afraid to add anything else and make it worse.

Hange finally spoke, “Levi, why would I be mad at you for trying to save my life?”

Levi huffed and looked away, staring at something in the corner. “Because… you didn’t need me to. I caused an accident because I made an assumption. The wrong assumption.... I’m sorry”.

“Oh I think I get it now. When I leapt out in front of that titan, you -not knowing Miche was on my flank- must have thought I was a complete moron! So you changed course to come rescue me and that’s how our ODM cables got crossed”.

If only he had waited one more second, he would have seen the whole picture. It was a pretty genius strategy, too. But in the moment, he was convinced Hange was looking to get herself killed. He remembered the moment of impact vividly. He put a hand to his temple. The pained look on Levi’s face was all the confirmation she needed. Hange burst out laughing, wincing as her ribs protested the movement.

“Ow, ah”. She sighed as she focussed on steadying her breaths. “Did Humanity’s Strongest forget that we’ve been fighting titans long before you joined us? We’ve survived and thrived this long without you, you know!”

Hange’s expression softened as she delicately placed her hand on top of his. “Listen, Levi. I know it sucks sitting here and waiting for the bad news to come. It’s maddening. But this feeling isn’t unique to you. Your special title doesn’t actually place all of humanity on your shoulders. One person alone can’t save everyone, even if it is ‘humanity’s strongest’. You have to trust your comrades. That's a lesson we all have to learn. Including you. Especially you.”

Levi let out a long exhale. She had put what he had been feeling into words. Sarcastic words, but they did the trick. And it did ease his mind. The Scouts could handle themselves. Hange could handle herself. And he needed to remember that. He would always remember.

"Thanks Hange, I needed to hear that.”

“Oh I know! Because...and you didn’t hear it from me: Ervin’s planning on giving you a squad of your own!”

Levi gripped the table harder.

“I’ll get you another bucket”.

[xxdragonwriterxx]

🔥The Angelus Mortis (2/2)🔥

A/N: Here is part 2 of “The Angelus Mortis”! Part 1 is linked below if you haven’t read that part yet. Thank you for reading!

Part 1

~~~

The next day, Erwin woke up early to visit (Y/N) one last time before he had to hand her over to the MP’s. He sighed in disappointment. He thought he had been getting through to her, especially after she had given him her name, but he was left with nothing but false hope when she remained adamant about not answering any of his questions. He ran one of his large hands through his blonde locks in frustration as he made his way down the stone steps into the gloomy dungeon below.

He had no idea why he felt so conflicted when it came to this woman, why he had a feeling she was a better person than she was letting on. His heart battled with his brain as he walked, causing him to groan when he felt a headache begin to form. Why did he feel like he was missing something? Something important? He knew she would be a valuable asset to the Survey Corps if she cooperated, her strength rivaling that of Levi’s which would give them two vital weapons on the field. And he was sure that under Levi’s supervision she would flourish, maybe even develop a friendship with the sullen man. Maybe that’s why he felt so strange, because it was a missed opportunity?

Erwin shook his head as he finally rounded the corner, pushing away his inner turmoil to mull over on a later date. Immediately upon his arrival, (Y/N) rolled over on the small, filthy cot she had been provided, and met his gaze.

“Here to collect me, already?” (Y/N) asked, her disdain barely veiled by her attempt at a quip.

“No, not yet,” Erwin said as he sat down in the lone metal chair he had used the day before.

(Y/N) sat up slowly and crossed her legs, resting her hands in her lap as she turned to face him completely.

“Then what are you doing here?”

“Well, you have spent one whole day here and you’ve been alone for most of that time. I came down here to see if you’re ready to answer my questions now.”

(Y/N) grit her teeth. “I told you, I don’t want to answer any of your shitty questions.”

“What’s the point? You’re going to be heading right for your very painful death in just a few hours, what is keeping you from parting with some information that will likely be unimportant soon anyway?”

“Just because I’m dying doesn’t mean I have to justify my life, to you of all people.”

“I only want to help you, this could save your life.”

“Why the hell do you care so much about me anyway? What am I to you? Do you want me for something? Maybe for your own personal desires?” (Y/N) suddenly bristled. “I didn’t take you as someone who would stoop so low, Commander, but what did I expect? I guess that’s what I get for thinking a murderer could show empathy. And to think, I almost learned to trust you a little.”

Erwin blanched, his face paling and his eyes widening.

“What?” He asked in utter shock. A murderer? What the hell was she going on about?

(Y/N) seethed at him and turned away, her entire body tensed and angry.

“Do whatever the hell you want with me,” (Y/N) said in a low voice. “Beat me, kill me, fuck me, do whatever you want, but I’ll never tell you anything.”

Erwin was quiet for a minute as he fought to process what he had just heard. A killer? Him? He only killed when he really needed to, aside from when he was fighting titans, of course, but he rarely used his weapons on a person, and never with malicious intent.

“What makes you think I’m a murderer?” Erwin asked.

(Y/N) suddenly whirled on him, her teeth bared, showing more of the wolf inside her that she had developed in the Underground. Her eyes flashed with fury and her fists clenched at her sides as she lost control.

“How dare you ask me that question,” (Y/N) snarled. “How dare you after what you took from me? Do you not even remember? Were they really that meaningless to you? You took away my family, the only positive thing I had in this world. You ripped them from me and now you dare ask how you have wronged?”

Erwin was bewildered now but he tried not to let it show on his face. He had to tread carefully. If he didn’t say the right thing, she might end up shutting down completely, and then he would lose any chance of keeping her from getting killed. He also wanted to keep her from hating him. If she was going to join the Corps, he would have to be able to lead his men without fearing for his life every time she was around.

“Did… did they live in the Underground with you?” Erwin asked carefully.

(Y/N) plopped down on her bed, rage still coursing through her veins as she looked at the man she had loathed ever since the fateful day her family had disappeared from her life, but she felt too tired to argue with him. He had won anyway, she was going to be tortured, maybe violated, killed, and then dumped in a trash can somewhere, left to die alone and forgotten. There was no point in trying to fight him anymore, not when he held the strings attached to her back, commanding the show and forcing her to dance. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing her break, but she knew her fate was sealed the moment she was brought up from the Underground. “Yes,” she said in a small voice, her head hanging low so that her hair covered her eyes.

“Are they the reason why you asked for my name in the Underground? Why you hesitated when you saw my face?”

(Y/N) only nodded.

“Are they why you targeted soldiers? To make us feel the pain you did when you found out they were gone?”

(Y/N) nodded again, more slowly this time and with a single glimmering tear that slid down her cheek and hit the stone floor with a barely audible tap.

Erwin hesitated again and swallowed hard.

“I’m sorry… for your loss.”

(Y/N) scoffed at him, her eyes filled with a smouldering hatred as she met his gaze.

Erwin cringed a little. He knew how apathetic that apology must have sounded, but he was at a loss for words. He just had to keep trying.

“I mean it. If I am responsible for their deaths then it must mean they died in combat, under my command. So, I am sorry for not being able to lead them properly. For not being able to protect them and bring them back home to you. I am so sorry…”

(Y/N) didn’t respond but he did notice that her gaze softened just slightly at his apology. He was starting to get through to her again. He knew that her acceptance of his apology was just a chink in the protective walls surrounding her broken heart, but he would take whatever he could get.

That was when Erwin suddenly realized something, the image of two faces flashing in his mind as he thought about what she had said. There had only been three people he had ever brought up from the Underground to be in the Survey Corps, and only two of them were dead. Farlan and Isabel.

Thinking back on it, Levi had never mentioned anyone other than Isabel and Farlan, and when he had been busted and brought to the surface he had only come with his two friends. Maybe they had never met. Maybe (Y/N) only knew Farlan and Isabel from her childhood and early adulthood while Levi was a mere business partner. Or maybe they did know each other but only through brief business interactions.

His heart jumped a little in his chest when he realized he was on to something. Maybe he could show her to Levi and see what his reaction would be? See if he would be the key to having her cooperate? Besides, it might be good for them, the both of them having lost their two best friends in a horrific manner, giving them the chance to form a bond or close friendship. It might even give Levi some closure. Erwin would be a bad friend if he hadn’t noticed how the loss of Levi’s past friends were still affecting him.

“How… how did they die?”

(Y/N)’s sudden question surprised him but he quickly brought himself back to the moment, not wanting to scare her away from talking to him again. He honestly couldn’t believe this was the same woman who had been bantering back and forth with him the day before, but he now realized she had been using it as a means of protecting herself. To make herself seem more confident in the face of the one person she supposedly hated the most. She had entertained him so he would stop digging, stop trying to dredge up old, painful memories.

“We were on an expedition outside of the walls and it started to storm. We tried to retreat but the rain and open meadows made it difficult to find our way back. Everything looked the same, blurry and gray or green. In the confusion, an abnormal titan snuck up on us and killed the majority of our troops, your family among them.”

(Y/N) was quiet but met his gaze again, her eyes shining with unshed tears. She looked so vulnerable at that moment. He could tell she still had that fighting spirit, that unwavering strength; the vulnerability did not make her look weak or pitiable in the slightest. It just made her look more… human.

“What happened to the titan?” She asked.

“One of my Captains, Levi, took care of it.”

(Y/N)’s head suddenly jolted up, her entire body going rigid. “Wha-”

“Erwin!” The Commander turned around to see Hanji standing on the stone steps leading down to the dungeon, clutching a lantern in one hand and a pair of handcuffs in the other.

Erwin stood and met his girlfriend on the steps, taking the manacles from her. Hanji gazed at him for a minute before her gaze shifted to the woman in the cell. Erwin could tell right away that Hanji felt something similar about the mysterious assassin, that she had the strange feeling that there was something more to her like he did. He could see it in her eyes, in the way they shone even in the darkness of the dungeon.

“Time to go,” Hanji said softly.

Erwin nodded and made his way to the cell, Hanji following close behind with a sword in her grasp, ready to cut the woman down should she try anything.

When Erwin moved to stand behind her, leaning down to lock her wrists into the handcuffs, (Y/N) hung her head again, her mind still spinning with the name that had fallen from the Commander’s lips. 

It was a name she hadn’t heard in years, a name that still haunted her dreams and left her feeling cold and alone. There was no way it was really him. Levi was a common enough name that the Captain could be anyone. Despite this, the fact that there was a chance he was really out there, gave (Y/N) peace of mind. 

If he was dead, then she guessed she was going to see him soon, maybe finally live the life they wanted to, if that was even possible after death. If he was alive, then that would still be satisfactory enough for her. Either way, she hoped she’d get to see him again soon. Maybe death wouldn’t be so bad.

“Commander Erwin,” (Y/N) said.

“Yes?” Erwin said, trying to hide the surprise in his voice when she said his real name rather than mocking his title of Commander or calling him an idiot.

“How is your shoulder?”

Erwin was baffled but answered her honestly.

“Sore but healing well.”

“Good. I’m sorry I stabbed you.”

Erwin swallowed and shook his head to tell her it was alright, his throat refusing to let him speak. Hanji was watching the Angelus Mortis carefully, her eyes filled with confused sorrow. (Y/N) glanced at the bespeckled Squad Leader and nodded once, a tiny smile curving at the corners of her lips.

(Y/N) could do nothing but sit still as they finished clamping her hands behind her back and stood her up, leading her out of the cell and up the stairs to her inevitable death.

_____________________________

Levi strode through the halls, looking for Erwin. He had been told immediately upon his arrival that the Commander had managed to capture a dangerous assassin from the Underground and needed his assistance in transporting them to the Military Police base to be detained and sentenced to death. He had been a bit surprised with the news, he hadn’t known that Erwin was hunting for a killer from the slums, but he had been out for an entire week on that solo mission, so things were bound to happen without his knowledge while he was gone.

Levi only paused by his office to switch out the sword he had for a cleaner, sharper one. The blade he had carried previously was covered in filth and worn from the constant fights he had been forced to break up on his mission.

As soon as he had a better weapon, he set off for the dungeons where Erwin and Hanji were supposedly already bringing the criminal up the stairs. He hadn’t heard much about this assassin, all he knew was that they were exceedingly dangerous, known as the Angelus Mortis, and they were headed for death row. He gripped his sword a bit tighter as he walked, readying his mind to prepare for anything. A criminal this dangerous would be incredibly strong and while he had no doubt in his mind that he could defeat the bastard, he would rather get out of the fight with all of his limbs attached.

“Levi! Over here!”

Levi looked up as he approached the dungeon steps, his silver eyes flickering over to the prisoner in Hanji’s and Erwin’s grasp. His eyes widened a little when he realized the assassin was a woman, her filthy (h/c) hair covering her face as she hung her head.

“Oi, who are you? What’s your name?” Levi asked coldly, his eyes narrowing on her thin form.

He expected her to keep her head down despite his commanding tone. He knew criminals like this, you could yell at them all you wanted, demand things from them, even beat them and they would usually remain stubbornly silent. 

What he did not expect was for her to lift her head sharply, the sound of his voice triggering something in her.

Levi gasped audibly when her (e/c) eyes met his silver ones, his entire world shifting beneath his feet. Her whole body froze when she saw him. For a moment, nobody breathed, Levi’s eyes roving over her constantly as he tried to wrap his mind around what he was seeing.

(Y/N). That was (Y/N). His (Y/N).

The one who had given him so much love and appreciation every day despite their shitty lives in the slums. The one who had comforted him when the world felt too dark; the one who loved him when he couldn’t love himself; the one who patched him up after a fight and fought by his side when she could. It was (Y/N). Undoubtedly (Y/N).

“Levi? What’s the matter?” Hanji asked.

Levi suddenly remembered the reality of their situation. (Y/N) was the goddamn Angelus Mortis. The most dangerous assassin in the world was the love of his life, and she was being sentenced to death.

“Let her go,” Levi said, his voice low.

“What? But Levi-”

“I said let her go!” Levi barked.

Hanji and Erwin exchanged concerned glances but slowly moved to unlock the handcuffs holding her to them.

As soon as she was free, (Y/N) sprinted forward and crashed into Levi, her small frame hitting him like a bullet. 

“LEVI!!!” (Y/N) cried in a strangled voice.

Levi grunted a little at the impact but wasted no time in wrapping his arms around her waist, completely forgetting about the audience that watched them, their mouths dropped open in shock. Hanji and Erwin were no better, their eyes wide.

“Oh my fucking gods, it’s you, it’s really you,” (Y/N) whispered in awe, her arms tightening around him, holding each other in the middle of the hallway.

Levi was about to speak when he looked up and noticed that everyone was staring. Sending a glare in the direction of their audience that promised a painful death to anyone who spoke, Levi reluctantly pulled away from (Y/N) and grabbed her wrist, tugging her along behind him as he made for his office.

“Wait, Levi!”

“Levi! What the hell!?”

Levi heard Erwin and Hanji call out to him but he ignored them, making a beeline for the familiar wooden door to his quarters. He could hear the pounding footsteps of the Commander and the crazy scientist coming up behind him, but he did not stop or slow down, his eyes trained on his destination.

When they had finally reached his office, Levi pulled (Y/N) inside and begrudgingly let Erwin and Hanji join them before slamming the door shut and locking it. (Y/N) barely had enough time to glance around the space before he was on her again, this time sealing their lips in a searing kiss that stole the air from her lungs.

Erwin’s and Hanji’s jaws dropped at the sight of Humanity’s Strongest Soldier kissing the Angelus Mortis without a care in the world. Neither one of them had ever known Levi to be interested in love, the sullen man even going so far as to get angry at the mention of it, rolling his eyes when couples kissed in the hallways and gagging when Hanji tried to set him up with someone.

Levi pulled away from the kiss, panting, before he moved his lips to place desperate butterfly kisses all over her face and neck, his body humming at the feeling of her against him for the first time in years.

When they finally broke apart again, both of them ignoring the company they had in the office with them, they stared at each other, their eyes shining as they took the sight of their lost lover. (Y/N) reached up and gently cupped his cheek with her palm, her heart nearly exploding when he nuzzled into her touch, his eyes closing and his own hand coming up to cover her own.

“Gods, I missed you so fucking much,” Levi murmured.

“Me too Levi, I missed you so much, I don’t even have the words to express it.”

“I thought I lost you…,” Levi choked out, a single tear sliding down his cheek to hit her thumb where her hand was still holding his face.

“I thought I lost you,” (Y/N) whispered, her thumb moving to swipe the tear off of his skin. “I was told when I asked around that you were killed in combat with Farlan and Isabel, after being forced to join the military.”

Levi’s eyes opened, his silver hues glassy with unshed tears.

“I tried to get you. Tried to come back for you. But when I got to the Underground, everyone near our old place told me you had been brutally murdered. I even found the inside of our house to be destroyed with blood splattered on the floor.”

Levi’s body began to tremble as he relived the horrendous memory. The time when he thought all hope was lost, all life was meaningless, and that he was destined to be alone. When he had collapsed upon the filthy floor of their old ramshackle home, the blood soaking into his pants and sliding over his palms, he had wanted nothing more than to die. Almost did, until he managed to remind himself that she would’ve never wanted that for him. That she would’ve killed him if he decided to end his life. And so he had hardened his heart and left the scene, making that promise to himself right then and there that he would never love another woman ever again. He would live, for her sake, but he would never love, for his sake.

(Y/N) glanced away from him then, her hand dropping from his face to twist nervously in front of her, her knuckles turning white from the pressure.

“Yeah, well, when I thought you were dead, I knew there was no hope for me left. I was in agony, but I was also furious. Beyond furious at both the Military Police and the Survey Corps for taking you and Isabel and Farlan away from me. Aside from that though, I was also scared. Scared they would find out about our relationship and come looking for me. I knew I had to get out of there, I refused to work for the murderers who had taken away my one happiness in this life. So I trained myself, starting by faking my own death to become untraceable. Then I became stronger, faster. I killed both to remain free and to make them feel the pain I felt when you were ripped away from me.”

Levi’s eyes softened and he reached for her, bringing her into his chest and holding her tightly, his fingers tangling in her hair. Oh gods she was skin and bones, he could feel how malnourished she was through his shirt, her ribs poking him in the chest as he held her.

Suddenly, the Commander’s sharp voice broke the spell in the room, making both Levi and (Y/N) jump a little when he spoke.

“Sorry to interrupt, but what the fuck is going on here?” Erwin asked.

Levi and (Y/N) pulled out of their embrace but Levi kept an arm around (Y/N)’s shoulders, holding her close to him as if she’d disappear if he let go.

“Sorry, Erwin, Hanji,” Levi said, looking at each of his friends in turn. “I’d like for you to properly meet (Y/N) Ackerman, my wife.”

If Erwin and Hanji thought they were shocked before, nothing could have prepared them for the bombshell that just landed on them. Both of their mouths fell open so they were gaping like fish, their words caught in their throats.

“YOUR WIFE!?” Hanji suddenly screeched, her eyes sparkling with shock and wonder.

(Y/N) couldn’t help but smile and nod, her expression making the room feel several degrees warmer.

“But, Levi, you’ve never worn a ring!” Erwin pointed out, his mind scrambling for any kind of clues that he had missed that would’ve told him sooner that Levi was married. He came up empty. He knew for a fact that Levi never wore a ring on his hand, knew that if he had, Hanji would’ve never stopped asking him about it.

Levi then flashed a small smile of his own, and reached up to remove the cravat from around his neck. As soon as the pristine white fabric had fallen away, Erwin and Hanji were both able to see the silver chain that was clasped around his neck, a simple gold band hanging from the center.

(Y/N) reached up with her own hands to move the flaps of the old jacket she was wearing, the same silver chain with a gold ring on the end of it sitting against her sternum.

Erwin and Hanji just stood and stared in complete and utter shock for a moment, before Hanji suddenly let out a loud squeal, her eyes shining behind her glasses as she ran right up to (Y/N). Levi stuck an arm out as the energetic woman came running up to them.

“Oi, Four-Eyes, don’t go harassing her.”

“Levi, this is your wife! I can’t not come and say hello!” Hanji said incredulously, pushing his arm away and ignoring his scowl as she bounded around (Y/N) excitedly. “Oh my gods you are so pretty! No wonder Shorty likes you!”

(Y/N) blushed at the comment and sheepishly ducked her head down a little but she was smiling brightly, her fingers moving to gently run down Levi’s arm, telling him she was alright even with this wildly energetic woman in her face.

“T-Thank you,” (Y/N) said. “Are you a friend of Levi’s?”

The  scientist nodded excitedly and stuck out her hand for (Y/N) to shake. “The name’s Hanji.”

(Y/N) shook her hand and tried to force the blush from her cheeks as Hanji continued to fawn over her.

“Levi, how come you never told us you were married?” Erwin asked while his girlfriend continued to blubber away, cooing over (Y/N)’s features and already beginning to set up a meal plan to help her get strong again.

Levi leveled a gaze at his Commander and one of the few people he called his friend. It was hard to tell what the giant blonde was thinking. He obviously knew Hanji’s opinion on everything, but Erwin’s sharp blue eyes remained unreadable but no less intense as they settled on the shorter man, waiting for a response. Levi naturally drifted almost imperceptibly closer to (Y/N) before speaking.

“I thought she was dead, Erwin. I’ve thought that ever since I went back to try to bring her up with me and found that scene at the house. Not only would telling you have been pointless, but also, it hurt too much to talk about her. I never took off my ring, I always wear it under my cravat, but I could never bring her up in conversation, not without feeling like my heart was being ripped out,” Levi said quietly, his voice a low rumble and his cheeks tinted with the palest pink as he admitted his feelings aloud.

Erwin contemplated his Captain’s words, his eyes narrowed on the sharp grey ones that stared right back. After a moment, Erwin could tell there was no deception in his friend’s gaze, nothing to suggest he hadn’t told them about (Y/N) for some unorthodox reason. The Commander nodded once, and he could’ve sworn Levi let out the softest sigh of relief. Hanji’s head suddenly shot up from where she had been examining (Y/N) for injuries.

“So that’s why you never accepted any of the women I tried to set you up with!” She said. “You were always so bothered by it, always so angry, now I know why!”

“Yeah,” Levi grumbled as he glared at the scientist. “Even when I thought she was dead, I just couldn’t love another…” 

Hanji stared at him for a moment before her eyes softened. She knew how hard it was for him to admit all of this, how awkward he must feel right now trying to explain everything. She wasn’t used to seeing her normally blunt, stoic, collected friend so nervous.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know. I just didn’t want you to be so sad and lonely anymore.”

Levi threw her another glare but it was less harsh this time, and having been friends with the grumpy man for so long, Hanji could read the hidden gratitude in his eyes. She nodded once in response and went back to checking (Y/N) over.

“(Y/N),” Erwin called, suddenly turning to face her after watching Hanji examine her.

“Yes?”

“Now that we’ve found out about your connection to my Captain here, I want to remind you that I am technically still obligated to take you to the Military Police for your crimes.”

Levi let loose an almost animalistic snarl and wrapped his arms around (Y/N), his eyes flashing and his teeth bared as he dared his friend to even try to take her from him. Erwin didn’t even bat an eye, a small smile curving at the corners of his lips.

“Since it is obvious that is not really an option for either of you, I would like to formally ask you to join the Survey Corps. That way, I can discount any charges against you and protect you from being forcibly taken from our custody once the Military Police realize we are not going to arrive.”

(Y/N) looked up at her husband, meeting his gaze and squeezing his hand comfortingly. Gods she had missed him so much, her heart ached with how much she loved this man, how much she never wanted to let him out of her sight ever again. Even though she had hated the military for most of her life, basing her entire career around it in her search for vengeance, there was no debate in her mind. Even if joining the Survey Corps wouldn’t have guaranteed her life, she knew she would’ve always agreed.

“Yes, I will join the Survey Corps, pledge my life to you, and fight for humanity,” (Y/N) said clearly and without hesitation, returning the smile the Commander threw her. Turning to Levi, (Y/N) looked deeply into his gunmetal eyes, marveling at the emotion swirling within them. “I will follow you, wherever you go, no matter what happens, I am never letting you out of my sight ever again.”

Levi let a genuine smile ride across his face as Erwin and Hanji left to go submit the proper paperwork, giving the reunited couple some privacy. Leaning down, Levi pressed his lips to hers in a blazing kiss, gentle and sweet but no less passionate, letting his kisses tell her exactly how he was feeling in that moment.

“I’m so glad you’re alive, (Y/N),” Levi whispered breathlessly when they pulled apart, resting his forehead against hers.

“I will always come back to you, Levi,”  (Y/N) said, her own eyes glazed with unshed tears. “I only ever feel truly alive when I am with you.”

~~~

A/N: I know the ending dialogue is a little cheesy but I had fun writing this anyway. Thank you again for reading and I hope you enjoy! More Levi content coming soon!

[enochianribs]

Chapter 2 of the Cabin AU is up now!

Read on Ao3 here, or under the cut. 

(Reblogs appreciated!)

The roof had a leak. Dean woke up to a growing wet spot on the pillow next to his. He laid still, eyes crossing as he stared at the ceiling, watching the bead of water run across one of the unfinished boards, suspending itself for an entire minute until it plopped right next to his head. Slowly, his mind pulled itself out of his dream, though the haze lingered.  The roof had a leak. Dean woke up to a growing wet spot on the pillow next to his. He laid still, eyes crossing as he stared at the ceiling, watching the bead of water run across one of the unfinished boards, suspending itself for an entire minute until it plopped right next to his head. Slowly, his mind pulled itself out of his dream, though the haze lingered. 

 “Mmm...great.” Another item on his to-do list. 

 Dean was willing to bet there were more leaks in the living room. 

For a moment he debated allowing himself to be lulled back to sleep. It was all too easy to slip back to that dream again: blurry hands, soft mouths, quiet murmurs, everything he missed and everything he’d never had. Not really. 

 Rain gently pattered against the outside of the cabin, the storm grinding in from the East and then settling its haunches right over the hills to stay for the night. The sun was rising, and the pink sky cast shadows from the drops on the window pane, little spots phantom dripping down his sheets. 

 It was the first morning since he’d gotten to the cabin that he’d slept in past sunrise. Sluggishly, he sat up, diggin the heel of his hand into his eyes as a yawn fought its way out of his chest. He turned his head, and reached out with a hand to wake his companion, before reality caught up with him and his hand fell to the mattress, going through the ghost.

 That’s right , he thought. His mouth tasted like ash.

 If he laid there any longer his chest would become heavy, and his breaths ragged, so he tossed the covers off, and trudged over to the shower. The cold water bit through the fog better than anything else could, and he leaned his temple against the glass door waiting for it to heat up and fill the room with steam. 

 Normally, he’d air dry, but it was chilly and an urgency hung around him. He grabbed the bleach-spotted towel hanging sadly by the door towelled off quickly. 

He wandered idly, picking his daily morning tasks up and dropping them before he’d complete them. Something pulled him around the house. He was forgetting something.

Dean was midway through folding the quilt and draping it on the sofa arm when they caught his eye. 

Two large feathers sat in the middle of the massive dining table (he still wondered who had built and what they’d been thinking—  the thing could seat the knights of the round table if necessary). Tugging the fridge door with one hand he reached blindly for the pot of coffee he kept iced, and nudged it closed with his knee, never taking his eyes off them. 

They were captivating. He continued to stare as he poured himself a cup, spilling some of the coffee onto the counter. He’d forget to clean it up, and it would stain, but that was okay. If they asked, he was experimenting with wood staining.

Dean could examine them once he made himself some kind of breakfast. Those were the rules: remember to feed yourself, and then you can do whatever you want to with your day. Breakfast ended up being toast and jam, and he plopped it down at the end seat of the table, and reached for the feathers before he took a bite. 

The color on the first one was so dark it looked heavy, but it was as light in his hand as any feather should be. He held it up and squinted, twisting his wrist back and forth. It caught the light and reflected a shimmering oil slick back at him. The colors shifted, hues iridescent.

 At first glance it could be a raven’s, but it was at least four times bigger than that.

 The second one was more muted, the black towards the base of it dappled into a brown and white, and it was downy soft where the other was sharp and precise. Yesterday he’d thought it was grey but better light proved that it was a grey-brown.

He’d assumed that it was from the same bird—  creature , but now he wasn’t so sure. Dean didn’t know the first thing about birds. However, he knew several people who did. 

▵▿▵

“Hey, Bobby. Can I talk to Rufus?”

“He’s kinda in the middle of some’in’, Dean.” The roll of his eyes was audible, as someone yelped in the muffled background. “Can I call you back?”

“Please?” Dean asked, grinning cheekily even though he wasn’t there to warm Bobby over in person. 

Bobby made a disgruntled noise and paused, before sighing. “You’re doing the face aren’t you?”

“Maybe.”

“Fine. You never want to talk to me .” 

“You know that’s not true.”

“Hm.” Bobby replied. Out of spite, he kept the phone next to his face as he shouted for his attention. “Rufus! It’s Dean.” 

Ouch , Dean mouthed wincing at the volume, as he listened to the sound of two old men grumbling at each other before fabric shifted, and Rufus picked up the phone. 

“He lives.”

A smile burst its way through Dean’s concentration. “Hey Ruf, gotta question for you.”

“Coulda called us sooner. We were beginning to wonder if you’d sold the cabin and moved somewhere warmer with pink flamingos.”

The image made Dean snort. Him at the beach? Unlikely.

“Nope.” Dean quipped. “Still here and freezing my ass off. You guys ever think about installing a damn heater?”

“And pay that bill? Hell no. We added a fireplace, what more do you want from us.”

Good ol’ crabby Rufus. “What do you know about birds?” 

“A lot.” As per usual, he was being obtuse.

“Know of any big enough to leave behind two foot feathers?”

Rufus whistled. “Not in North America, unless you’ve got ostriches running around.”

“That’d be a negatory. So there’s nothing you can think of?”

“Nope. Did you find something, kid?”

“Holding one right now.”

“No shit.” He could hear the bewildered tone of his voice over the shitty connection. “Well, I guess keep an eye out. It’d be real hard for something that big to hide, and even harder for it to sit comfortable in those pine trees with the branches so dense. I’d say you’re about to make the biggest zoological discovery in North America in the past century. Keep us posted?” 

“Will do.” Dean said, and he heard Rufus handing the phone back over to Bobby. 

“Hope everything’s okay up there, Dean.”

“Everything’s peachy, honestly. Anyways—” He checked the clock on the stove. 8:30. The hardware store would be open in a half hour. “I’ve got some errands to run, so I’ll leave you to whatever it is a couple of old farts do in retirement.”

“Hey—” 

Dean grinned to himself. “See ya, Bobby.”

“Take care of yourself.”

“I will.”

The line went silent, and Dean shoved his phone back into his pocket, bobbing his head to the side in thought. Though he didn’t get a definitive answer, at least the call had eliminated the options of native fauna. 

▵▿▵

At nine in the morning, Dean was usually one of a small line of people waiting outside Lafitte’s Goods to needle Benny’s brain for fixes and tools of the trade. Pamela was waiting against the brick wall, hand shielding the summer morning sun from her eyes, reading a 99 cent paper back with interest. 

“Hey, Pamela.”

“Dean-o. Call me Pammy.”

“Really?”

“No, of course not. But Pam works. I’m not your mother.”

“You call your mom by her first name?”

“Fair point. What’re you here for?” She nodded her head and bounced off the wall, as Benny unlocked the doors. A couple of grizzled old men shuffled in ahead of them, beelining it for the plywood. 

Porch season. 

“Roof’s got a leak.”

“Leak season.”

“Apparently. This is the third one since I got here.”

She squinted at him, like he was omitting something important, and popped the bubble of gum in her mouth. Dean started to itch under her scrutiny. He hated being studied like a lab rat.

What was the woman? A witch? Why was she peeling back layers of his get-up without warning.

Dean coughed, and used Benny’s presence as an excuse to wiggle out from under her gaze. “Gotta—  yeah, see you.” Turning on his heel he fled towards the adhesives, face contorting with embarrassment. 

Holy fuck, somehow he’d gotten even more awkward. 

Dear god, help me. 

Benny never pried unless Dean seemed interested in offering up information, and for that Dean was actually incredibly grateful. Most days he didn’t want to talk about anything, certainly not his past, but Benny and his bushy beard and warm eyes had managed to wiggle through his walls, just a little. 

“Benny.”

Benny stared at him from behind the register, inquisitive expression considerably easier to cope with than Barnes' hungry expression. A friendly smile danced across his face as he assessed Dean’s no-doubt rosey cheeks. 

“She’s got her claws in you, huh.”

Dean ducked his head, glancing sideways at the brunette woman still looking at the different kinds of rope. A tramp stamp peeked out from under the bottom edge of her tank top. Dean tapped his fingers on the pock-marked wood counter and turned his attention back to his friend. “Is she always like that?”

“Sure is,” Benny drawled, ringing up everything Dean had haphazardly shoved onto the counter in his escape. “You just happen to be the newest, prettiest , plaything in Pringle.” The burly man winked.

 Pink crawled up Dean’s neck  from his collarbones and spread into his cheeks once again. Christ, there was no escape from these people. Still stammering, Dean practically ran back to the Impala. 

▵▿▵

 The phone vibrated in his back pocket. By the third ring, Dean had parked Baby in her usual spot, and he struggled to tug it out of his pocket, checking the Caller ID. 

California. 

He pumped the window down, the air getting warm inside the car, and he flipped the phone open, inhaling sharply. He should have called before now. Shouldn’t have let so much time pass. In the fall, he’d be too busy to take any of Dean’s calls anyways. 

“Hello?”

“Dean?”

“Sammy.”

Several seconds of too-long silence passed between them. 

“Where have you been?”

Dean swallowed, thick, guilt permeating the small space. 

“Sorry, I just—” He didn’t have an excuse. “I didn’t know what to say.”

“You still could’ve picked up the phone. I tried to call you about six times. You don’t always need to have something to say, y’know…  It just would’ve been nice to know you’re still breathing.” His brother’s voice was basically a whisper at the end. 

“I know.” Dean closed his eyes, pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing shakily. “I know.”

“I had to hear it from Bobby. Dean—” Sam’s voice pitched up to that octave it always did when he was upset. “Dad’s gone again.”

Fuck. 

“And that’s fine. It’s not like I’m ten and incapable of caring for myself but I thought—  I thought he’d be back by now. It’s been a couple of weeks.”

“Shit, Sammy.” 

“I think he’s fine. He sent a vague text a couple of days ago, it’s just with school starting in two months I get worried. Not even for him, just for us. I can’t pay for school myself, and I can’t afford to miss anything because of Dad. If my grades drop, I’m out.”

“I know.” God, Dean knew.

Sam was a late bloomer for college. The kid was brilliant, but he’d been dealt a bad hand, and it was a miracle Rufus and Bobby had invested in a saving fund for the two of them decades ago. At twenty-two, Dean knew that he’d already had trouble securing the scholarships. Stanford wanted the best and brightest, not the kid with seven schools on his high school transcript and an overabundance of unexcused absences. 

The guilt piled up and perched itself on his shoulders until he sagged into his seat under the heaviness. It was his job to keep John out of trouble, not Sammy’s. And instead he’d run away from that responsibility. 

The repair materials sat in the backseat, and his heart twisted in his chest. The meadow sat peacefully in the late afternoon sun, just across the short distance of woods, and it still kept its secret. He didn’t want to go back. Not yet. Not until he’d had his fill of independence.

“Look,” He could kick himself for how his voice cracked. “If John doesn’t turn up by the end of the week, I’ll come back. I’ll help. Promise.”

For what it was worth, a facet of his brother’s relieved sigh sounded apologetic.“Thank you, Dean. I don’t know how to do this without you.”

“Okay then.”

“Bye.”

“Talk to you soon, Sammy.” Dean’s jaw clenched involuntarily, as he flipped the phone closed and tossed it against the passenger door. His frustrated shout echoed between him and the trees, but he didn’t feel better.

Always this .

Historically, John would do something stupid and irresponsible and Dean would drop everythign to clean up the mess and no one would thank him. Not really. That was fine.

Family was supposed to break your heart. 

 ▵▿▵

 The leak proved to be an easy fix. 

Dean fought the attic door that led to the roof, following the small staircase up until he was on the balls of his feet, head sticking out as he pulled himself onto it. The shingles were rough, cracked and damaged from the winters, and he scrapped the length of his arm against it.

 The source of the leak took only a minute to find. Five or so shingles were missing, leaving nothing but the wood underneath, which did nothing but absorb any and all precipitation. The rubber sealant smelled terrible, and he gagged dramatically, almost dropping the metal can in the process. Done applying, he plopped his ass down, determined to see it dry properly before he went back inside.

Half assing things had always resulted in a stern talking to in the least, and it had been something he’d struggled with growing up, his mind yanking him a thousand directions until his head was spinning and John was disappointed. 

Dean grit his teeth, purposefully dragging the raw scrape against the rough roofing, the burn biting through the thought, bringing him back down from that far off place he so frequently wandered to. He didn’t even know how he got there, but he found himself lost, shrunk down, smaller than the hand-me-down leather jacket he tried to fill.

From the roof he could see almost everything. It turned out that Rufus and Bobby’s cabin foundation was built onto a gentle slope.

The rain clouds had dissipated, migrating to the flat plains further south, and it left a crisp atmosphere behind. The sun poked through the remaining gargantuan cumulonimbus clouds, sunbeams gently caressing the grass. Grey mist rose from where the creek beds greedily absorbed the heat. It reminded him of the paintings of cowboys, sitting on a stallion, bathed in golden light, their backs to the audience, all the edges illuminated and throwing everything else into stark purple shadows. 

 The burn of the scrape subsided as a sense of peace settled Dean, his body melting into the shingles. An hour passed before his stomach growled, and he climbed back down for lunch.

 ▵▿▵

 Tapping. 

Tapping at the window pane only inches from his face. 

Groggy and only slightly encrusted (gross) Dean opened his eyes and was met by dark blue ones, a tawny human hand pressed up against the glass. 

 Dean’s soul evaporated out of his body, back pressed to the headboard as he scrabbled for the small knife he kept under his pillow. Before he could look again, it was gone.He launched himself out of bed, so very entirely grateful that he’d had enough sense to go to sleep in his boxers and his worn-out threadbare Kansas shirt. 

Holy hell.  

Fingers trembling, he opened the window, leaning almost all the way out, hovering a few feet above the ground.A single feather slowly came to rest soundlessly on the pine-needle carpet. The view from the window remained unyieldingly motionless. 

Black-eyed susans had begun to sprout in the shade, despite themselves, and now they quivered where they grew between the pine-roots even though the morning wind had not pierced through the woods yet. 

Craning his neck, he glanced up, half expecting the last thing he’d ever see to be a terrifying bird man staring down at him like he was lunch. Nothing. 

Dean practically fell out of his room, chanting under his breath in a poor attempt to calm himself down as he stumbled down the short hall to the living room. 

It’s human.

“No,” Dean spoke to the picture frames on the walls. He had no idea what he was denying, but the situation begged to be denied. He paced back and forth in the living room, no doubt wearing the floor down despite the fact that he was wearing socks—  the ones with the holes in the heel. “It’s okay. It’s okay.”

Oh my God, it was so very not okay. 

Suddenly, the couch seemed like the perfect place to suffocate himself to unconsciousness. Someone else could deal with this. 

 No , he thought. You wanted this to happen, you dirty liar. Stop panicking and deal with it. 

Wings was human- or at least partially human. He looked like a man. Dean’s thin eyelids fluttered closed, and the image was painted on the backside of them with crystal clarity. Square jawline, arrow-straight nose, curiously arched eyebrows…  and the eyes . They were so blue. And they had been looking right at him. Watching him. 

It was entirely ridiculous that his eyes overshadowed the massive lurking darkness behind him, of what had to have been his wings. 

A human with wings. 

This was crazy. Everything was crazy.

The way he saw it, there were two directions this could go: he could pretend he hadn’t seen anything, and this would be tucked away into the delusion box that he kept under lock and key at the back of his mind and he could grow old being none the wiser of whatever breach of reality this was, or he could go find it. 

The first option was sounding real nice. Normal. Well adjusted. 

He was well adjusted. 

Besides, Dean wasn’t entirely convinced it wasn’t a dream.  this entire thing was a fever dream and he was in some hospital bed back in Lawrence, stuck in a coma. Dean pinched himself, viciously and stared at the white marks left on his forearm, helpless. 

Nope. 

“Okay.” He barked out a laugh. 

He should call Jo. 

After a few more minutes of pacing and hyperventilating, he decided against it. He would tell her—  of course he would! —but when it came up.

The Harvelle’s were good people and they’d shown him nothing but kindness. 

The situation had to be broached with care, or the small home he’d built in the life he wanted to live would topple in on itself, and the rubble and dust would drown him.

Trust issues were a problem of his, and he’d been aware of them since high school, when he’d had too many secrets to keep and any semblance of a support system was states away. 

God, he knew the way he clammed up was obvious, but sometimes he surprised even himself. If he was being honest, there was a lot more to it than a strong need for privacy. Didn’t matter though. In the end, after all the nit-picking and self beratement, it boiled down to fear. 

Jo could keep her mouth closed, but there was always a chance she’d accidentally tell someone, and there was a high chance it would be the wrong person. If he let it slip that this thing existed, who knew what would come packing. And he knew sooner or later, someone would bring the heat. Words got around easily in a small town like Pringle and he knew everyone would be at his door, wanting a chance to see the freak of the week. 

Which… was a thing that existed. A human with wings, that called the small clearing his home.

His heart skipped a beat at the thought. He felt protective over the man, almost ferociously so. 

The day’s hunting trip wasn’t happening— now Dean was paranoid.

What if he accidently shot him? Or scared him off permanently? 

His stomach churned, acid and bile climbing their way up his throat. The burn was familiar. Half his childhood had been spent subsiding panic attacks and anxiety, calming down Dad or Sam or both at the same time. 

▵▿▵

The tin echo of a gunshot managed to penetrate through the thick log walls of the cabin.In a heartbeat, he was scrambling for the ancient shotgun. The front door swung open, the little voice in his head told him to close it behind him, but his feet carried him quicker than his mind and so he left it swinging on its hinges at his back. 

An anguished scream gargled its way from somewhere deeper into the woods, due south of the cabin. Rocks dashed the soles of Dean’s feat and he swore out loud, having forgotten his boots at the door. 

Shit shit shit.  

Someone was nearby, and they were ballsy enough to fire a weapon despite the illegality of hunting on private property. His mind raced at the same speed he ran towards it, a limp skewing his gate every few steps. Stray branches caught the sleeves of his shirt, tearing through the fabric as he refused to slow down. 

It’s just a deer. 

He knew better. 

They’re just after a deer, or a bison that wandered away from the heard or an elk or something—  

Another blood curdling scream erupted from amongst the pine, this one loud enough to rattle the crows out of their nests. They cawed, the sound of dozens of pairs of wings taking flight muting the pained groans. 

He knew better. 

Please—  please. Not Wings.

He faltered over a boulder, panic overtaking muscle memory and skidded to a halt at the crest of a ledge. The scene below knocked the breath out of his chest, leaving a vacuum in its wake. 

Campbell, one of the more elderly hunters of the area was standing over another tawny body. Giant black wings sprawled out, twisting and twitching in the dirt and mud, feathers slightly splayed underneath his back. 

Campbell’s face distorted in pain, a tense moment passing before his wild eyes landed on Dean, the whites of his too visible, even from ten yards away. Blood pumped out from a wound on his neck, and he had a hand clamped down onto it, slick with red, he held a shotgun limply in his left hand, the butt of it dropped heavily to the ground. 

Semi-satisfied that Campbell didn’t seem interested in shooting again, Dean fixated every ounce of attention on Wings and his breath hitched. Smeared across his mouth and chin was a copious amount of blood. He’d bitten Campbell. Dean’s heart swelled with pride.

Good . 

His short encounter with Campbell prior had proved that the man was a bag of dicks, cocky and far too keen on the killing aspect of hunting. It skeeved Dean out then, and it certainly did now. Campbell was still looking at Wings like he was prey. Though no component of the scene begged to differ: the man was naked, teeth bared, but he was incapable of escaping, the gunshot wound in his abdomen bleeding him dry. 

Dean leveled the end of his shotgun at Campbell’s head. “Get the fuck away from him.”

Campbell backed away from Wings, the muscles in his right arm tensed, like he wanted to put it up defensively, but it was necessary he kept pressure on the wound. It looked like Wings had gone for the jugular. “It attacked me, Winchester.”

“And?” 

“You’re fucking crazy.”

Dean would put money on the fact that he looked the part, he could feel his chest heaving, something akin to dull rage pumping through his veins. He prayed the tremor in his hand didn’t betray his hesitation. “I said move .”

Obeying his orders, Campbell stepped back, never taking his eyes off of the strange man. Agony flashed across his face where he laid in the dirt.In his hands, he held a silver blade. Wings looked from Campbell to Dean, expression visibly softening.

“Give me your coat.” Dean didn’t have much time, glancing at Wings, he saw that a red gleam of blood was starting to trickle from the corner of his mouth and his eyes moved frantically. He slid down the slope and went to take off his jacket and remembered his was only in his boxers. “ NOW .” 

Campbell shirked it off and threw it at Dean, staying exactly where he was. Moving quickly, Dean pressed the thick fabric to the wound, moving his other hand to the back side to see where the bullet went. There was no opening there, and he was thankful that Wings was naked. He could skip the sometimes detrimental process of removing his clothes to assess the wound better.

 He tied the jacket around him and slid one arm under his legs and the other across his shoulder blades, lifting him up carefully. Dean had to get him back to his house immediately, before Wings lost too much blood.

One last time, he regarded Campbell. He felt the sneer tug his lip up, his voice like acid trying to eat through the other man’s bones until he was nothing. “Get the fuck off my property. And don’t tell anyone about this. He’ll be fine, not that you care. But you won’t be if I see you here again, or if I hear about this from anyone. Do I make myself clear?”  

Samuel’s eyes darkened clearly at war with Dean’s threat, but his skin was taking on a pallor akin to lethal blood loss. He nodded curtly, acknowledging the agreement, at least for the moment. 

Reasonably satisfied that Campbell wouldn’t shoot them in the back, Dean turned and left, the body draped over his shoulder too warm.Dean’s hand wrapped around, hand feathering over his taut side, avoiding the wound. He could feel his fingers wet with blood. 

Wings was whispering something feverishly, though Dean couldn’t catch a word of it, his eyes glazed over with pain, searching the sky for something with a fervor of a religious man with hell hounds on his heels. 

“It’s okay. It’s okay.” Dean murmured, straining to carry the both of them the distance to the cabin. “I’ve got you.” 

Wing’s head lolled to the side, and his body went slack. Tears pricked the corners of his eyes, but Dean couldn’t afford to cry now. If he did, he wouldn’t be able to get them inside safely. He swallowed the terror. He ducked and wove through the undergrowth, fearing that the drooping wings would catch on a branch or boulder. 

The time it took until he could lay Wings down on his dining room table felt like hell had manifested on Earth, keenly able to feel life slipping away in his arms.

Once Dean managed to put Wings on the table without his head smacking the wood, he tore the kitchen apart for salt and a bowl of water and some clean washcloths, and sprinted to the bathroom, yanking the drawers out and emptying their contents onto the counter and sink until his eyes landed on the tweezers and isopropyl alcohol.

It wasn’t a perfect med kit, but there was no other choice. It had to do. 

Dean approached the table cautiously, worried that too much movement would set him off. The dark wingspan spread out almost three feet on either side of the table and Dean swallowed a stone.

He had no idea what to do next, not really. The closest experience he’d had to being a doctor had been treating John’s stab wound when he was thirteen and John had come home more beaten than usual.  

He stared helplessly down at Wings.  

“He...help.” Wings voice was like a ghost’s, he barely heard it, and he was standing right next to him. He looked up at the cobwebbed chandelier lighting like it was something holy and mesmerizing and Dean realized he was losing him. 

“Shhh… it’s okay.” His forehead was sticky with sweat and drying blood, and Dean pushed some of the unruly black wisps from his eyes, humming low. “I’m gonna help you.” 

Wings hand shook, following the edge of the table, feverishly searching for something to hold onto. Tentatively, Dean slid his fingers between his, feeling his calloused palm against his own. “Wings. Wings, you gotta listen to me. Wings, please . You have to lay still.”

He had no idea if the man understood a single word he was saying, but it seemed to do the trick. Over the span of a terrible minute, his breathing slowed down, and his grip on Dean’s hand went from frail to almost bone crushingly alive. 

Wings’ blue eyes were on him, flickering a little in the low light. Dean waited, untrained, unable and unwilling to play operation on him while he was still conscious, eyes desperate to look at anything but the daunting task before him. 

Eventually, he passed out, his painful grimace replaced by a soft one, and Dean began to remove the shrapnel bullet, praying to anyone who was listening that it had not shredded his insides beyond repair. 

 ▵▿▵

 At some point in the night, Dean had gotten up to draw the curtains and lock the door, willing to sacrifice only a moment to seal them away from the rest of the world. 

 Now, sunlight pierced through the cracks, illuminating them both in thin lines of white light. He watched Wings toss and turn, his face gnarling into pain each time he moved.

 What if Dean had fucked it up? What if the next breath he drew was his last? His mind raced, punishing him for every moment’s hesitation that could very well lead to his death. 

 Dean caught himself following Wings jawline, examining the stark contours of his face like he would never see them again. Please, just please make it out alive.

 “Don’t die on me, Wings.” The words slipped out subconsciously. “Please, God, don’t die on me.”

 Dean had the decency to cover him up with the quilt. The two’s hands were still tightly entwined long after the heartbeat in Wing’s wrist lulled Dean into sleep, tumbling heart over head. 

[soobrat]

*･༓☾ bloodshot // johnny ☽༓･*

chapter i // masterlist

*pairing* you x johnny + jungwoo

*chapter rating* mature

*warnings* gore (I'll put a marker up to where it starts and ends for the squeamish), explicit sexual content, mentions of slurs and sexism

*word count* 2.4k

*disclaimer(s)* I obviously don't think johnny or any other members would act this way. Please don't take anything I write seriously as it is just for fun. I in no way view idols differently and inappropriately in real life because of my smuts or any of their contents!

((TW: you “injure yourself” in this chapter but it’s not driven by any mental health circumstances))

♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥

Well, everyone thinks you're crazy now. You really didn't think kicking a toothpick under your toenail would catch this many headlines. Or maybe it was the reason you did it that has everyone's panties in a twist.

"Popular Streamer _____ Injures Herself After Altercation with Fellow Streamer jonssuh"

You had to prove your point. You had no desire to be cordial with that son of a bitch.

"Come on, ___. You love me, right?" Johnny taps on his cheek with his index finger. The gesture was seemingly in slow motion as your blood boiled. You wanted to knock that stupid grin off his face. You balled your fists tightly as the men- no, boys laughed at his joke. Or lack thereof.

"You're so overdramatic." Lucas rolls his eyes at your stubbornness. You felt triumphant as you felt the boys getting upset. Finally their smug acts were over. It was suffocating. You glared at the two massive men as they leaned on the kitchen island, glaring back at you.

"You actually hate Johnny?" You turn to see Mark on the sofa, pushing himself forward a little so he can see beyond the other men on the sofa. His face read of concern. Good. He should be concerned.

"That's what I've been trying to fucking tell everyone. My viewers, you guys, the commentary youtubers, your viewers, everyone! I'm not joking, I was never joking, I could sleep easy knowing I'd never see Johnny again." You turn your gaze back at Johnny who had that amused smirk back on his face.

"You're so full of shit, you know that?"

"And why is that?" You maneuver around the island to stand firmly in front of the human skyscraper. You felt your adrenaline pumping as the air grew more tense.

"Okay guys this is getting stupid. Stop before you do something dumb." Taeyong piped up, you could hear the annoyance in his voice. You stayed put, awaiting Johnny's response. He tilts his head upward and crosses his arms, feigning deep thought.

"Well I don't know, you always seem to be around me. And hm... I don't know... the fact that I did nothing to you." The venom in Johnny's voice made you shift in place with glee. It was very difficult to not smile. You were successfully getting under his skin.

Finally a man among your mutual streamer friends was the one someone made squirm for someone else's amusement. No more sexism and just flat out being a jerk for shock value. Or to just solely make you feel like shit while everyone else laughed. Now you were laughing while Johnny gritted his teeth.

"You see, you did do something and you know you did. Look it's just my personal opinion that you're a piece of dog shit." You finally let a smile stretch across your features as you let one of his signature lines rip.

"Ah, so that's what this is about?" Johnny scoffed, shifting his weight.

"Those are just jokes. You always take them way too seriously."

You feel the power dynamic shifting again. No, you weren't going to let him use this idiotic defense to gain his position back.

"If those are jokes then you're a shitty comedian." You walk closer to him, looking straight into his eyes as you over-enunciate each letter in your insult.

"Everyone else seems to like them." Johnny shrugs, keeping his composure. The dynamic was shifting once more. You snort at his reply.

"Who's "everyone"? The little boys in this room?" You hear the boys grumble in protest around you.

"Or your 12 year old fans who think saying the N word is a punchline. Very impressive audience, Kevin Hart." You chuckle. Johnny stayed quiet for a while nodding as he shifted back and forth. You could feel how no one was on your side, but you muscled forward, trying to ignore it.

"So you're telling me you hate me, because of some stupid jokes-"

You laugh loudly.

"Of course you take two steps back when you're backed into a corner."

"We're not stupid, ____. I get it, I'm a popular streamer and beef with me would get you some decent numbers. But keep it on stream, babe." He pats your shoulder and attempts to move past you.

"I would rather kick a toothpick under my toenail than be forced to coexist with you. I promise it's not a publicity stunt." You cross your arms tightly.

"Oh yeah?" Johnny's footsteps thunder past you as he reaches for a package of toothpicks. He brings them to the island, dumping them onto the countertop. Countless toothpicks clatter onto the granite, some spilling over onto the linoleum tiles. The guys groan and protest in the background, most notably, Taeyong.

"See- This is what the fuck I'm talking about, man. You guys are so fucking ridiculous."

(gore marker)

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

It was the anger that Taeyong didn't understand why you loathed this man. It was the way Johnny's nostrils flared at you as he gestured to the toothpicks that egged you on. Your movements are theatrical as you take two fingers to lift a single toothpick from the countertop.

"No fucking way?!" Lucas cackled in disbelief. Everyone watched in awe as you saunter to the nearest wall, placing the toothpick under your right big toenail.

"____ cut it out! What the fuck?" Taeyong shot up from the couch, attempting to stop you but it was too late. The mixture of searing pain and screeches of disbelief and disgust overwhelmed your senses. The room spun as your eyesight faded in and out. You stumbled backwards but Taeyong caught you before you could fall. Your toe was burning hot while blood ran down from the wound in various directions. You didn't want to look at it. Taeyong scoops you up and quickly whisks you away to the bathroom.

The maddening discourse was just blurred background noise as Taeyong sat you on the toilet. Your vision was going blurry, hearing going in and out as Taeyong reprimanded you. You couldn't decipher a word he was saying.

"Could you shut up and take it out please." Hot tears poured down your cheeks. Taeyong paused, shutting the bathroom door. The decrease in volume brought you back down to earth. Unfortunately, this meant the pain was clear as well. You inhale sharply before exhaling shakily. Your foot shook violently as you finally saw the viscera. You whimpered worriedly, in disbelief at yourself. Your hands shook as well as you grabbed for something, anything. One hand landed on Taeyong's arm. The other tugged a towel off a bar, the poorly assembled bar coming down as well with a loud clang.

You began to sob, not knowing how to deal with the excruciating pain. You choked, looking away as Taeyong finally removed the toothpick. Your lips tremble as you attempt to stifle your sobs. You squeeze Taeyong's arm but your body never stops shaking.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

"I'm sorry... I didn't know you were serious."

"You still laughed." Your voice quivered. The words came out louder than you anticipated. Johnny probably heard that. Great.

You hiss loudly as Taeyong applies peroxide.

"You need to go to the hospital, this is worse than I thought."

"Yeah, whatever." You stay turned away from him and the wound. You hear him sigh.

You gave permission to Lucas to tell the story on his stream. You wanted people to know that you will not just sit pretty and giggle while a greasy man talks down to you. You do not associate with Johnny Suh. And now the world finally understood this fact.

Except, your plan backfired. People think you're insane. For good reason. The more days go by, the more idiotic you feel. Of course if backfired. Also, "jonssuh" was bigger than you. Of course people would side with him no matter what.

"People hate me now." You see the opportunity to steal Jisoo's knight, so quickly you do so.

"Checkmate." Jisoo utters as you realize your king is fucked from all directions.

"Fuck."

"You always take the bait so fast. Also, who cares if a bunch of racist white boys hate you. They're all probably 13 anyways." Jisoo starts to put the pieces away but you stop her.

"One more round. Also, that's what I said. But let's be real, they're not all 13. Full grown adults are calling me over-sensitive. Some of them are female as well. That shit hurts." You set up your side with a pout.

"Even so, their opinions still don't matter. They have horrible senses of humor. If "go make me a sandwich" makes them laugh, their opinion is no longer valid." You make you first move.

"I guess."

Even so, the comments and tweets still stuck in your brain. Some of the boys defend you over social media which made you feel a lot better. At the same time, however, it made you feel worse. Your mind flashes back to that night, the things the guys screamed were finally clear.

Mark was just repeating "oh my god" over and over while gagging. Lucas obnoxiously screamed "YOOO!". Typical. While Johnny... well he pressed both hands to either side of his head, repeating,

"You were serious?"

Yes you dipshit. How could he be so dense?

How are men this influential over you?

-

You wished Jungwoo streamed. He's so funny and sweet. Not to mention he would stick up for you with no hesitation when you were with the other streamers.

"I would've just slapped him as soon as he said you take his "jokes" too seriously."

"I know." You melted into Jungwoo as he traced shapes into your arm. Your cheek squished against his bare chest as his other hand smoothed over your hair. Your legs tangled together under the covers. Jungwoo kicks them away, muttering something about being hot. The motion causes his legs to brush firmly against your panty clad core. You whimper, digging your nails into the flesh of his bicep.

"Are you needy, princess?"

You nod sheepishly, humping lightly against his leg. He climbs on top of you, spreading your legs apart with his own. He grinds his bulge against your mound, sending shots of electricity up your legs. You look up into his dark eyes. His dark hair messy and half wet. His mouth hung open as he looked at your half naked figure with want.

You twitch, trying desperately to get as much friction as possible. His motions deepen as he grinds against you. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. His thrusts get shorter, brushing perfectly against your hardened clit. Your lips brush against his, both breathing heavily. Your moans become audible as your legs quiver slightly.

He pulls away before freeing his newly erect penis. He jerks it a few times before pushing your panties aside and entering your sopping hole. Strangled noises escape your throat as he bottoms out. You use your legs to pull him even closer. You whimper loudly at how deep his tip burrowed into you.

His hips are poetic as they sway back and forth. His cock was warm and hard as a rock as it moved in and out of you. Your noses bump against each other as he bites your bottom lip. His moans whine and tempt as they twist into your ears. He bites the lobe of your left ear as his love noises increase in volume. You dig your heels into his ass as you let out shallow open-mouthed breaths.

Jungwoo slides his hands underneath your ass to give it a firm squeeze. While doing so he pushes himself even deeper than you imagined he could go. You curse and writhe, raking his back with your fingernails. You bite his shoulder, tears threatening to spill as your stomach tightens. Your wetness spread all over both of your upper thighs. His cock was nearly lost in a sea of your juices as it plummeted deep inside you.

Getting closer, you start bucking upwards. You chased your high feverishly, encouraged by the passion behind your hatred for Johnny Suh. You thought of him. You thought of him as you snapped your hips towards Jungwoo's. You grunt hungrily, thighs quaking as you blindly chased your high.

"I'm so fucking close-" You breathe out as you grind your hips up to meet his. He snaps his hips against yours, movements more erratic and moans more determined. Your pelvis feels hot, stomach tightly wound, and legs going increasingly numb as his cock barreling into you sends you over the edge. Your moans border on a scream as you tug at Jungwoo's hair.

You trail your nails down his neck and back as he continues to thrust sloppily. His hips snap violently a few more times as he ribbons sperm into you. Your chests heave against each other, skin searing hot to the touch.

"Is all that pent up frustration gone now?" He nuzzles his head into the crook of your neck as he laughs. You just nod breathlessly. Your stomach flutters as he peppers soft kisses all over your neck and shoulder.

"I could tell that guy really pissed you off."

"Well it was more than just Johnny."

You were both silent for a moment.

“Taeyong too?” He lifts his head to look at you cautiously. You just nod wordlessly.

“It’s also the constant losing fight. I think it may be better to just separate myself from them completely.”

Jungwoo slides off of you, snuggling into your side.

“It must be really difficult.”

You pout slightly, tears pricking at your eyes. You were being such a baby.

“Yeah.”

“Especially with Taeyong not siding with you before the toothpick intervened. I honestly thought you and Taeyong would be an item.”

“Me too.” You chuckled, it seemed so stupid now.

“But he’s in a relationship now, with someone he knows I’ve hated for years now.” Saying it out loud, you couldn’t chuckle anymore.

“This is just a shitty situation, huh?” You force a smile, looking over at Jungwoo. He was far from smiling, however. It almost looked like he was going to cry for you.

“I’m so sorry you have to go through this, ___.” Jungwoo snuggled even closer to you, nuzzling his head into your shoulder again.

“Yeah, me too.” You replied numbly. You didn't know if you regretted Lucas telling his stream or... the entire thing.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　끝　˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

[vlogsquadssquad]

model for me - pt. 2

summary: a continuation of model for me. David and y/n go out to town for another shoot, will they be able to resist each other for the photos?

a/n: I feel like this one is so short but A LOT of people have asked for a part 2. I think its cute and im thinking of doing a pt 3, ill try to make that one extra long.

warnings: drinking, language, alluding to sex.

mood board:

your instagram post:

- YOUR POV

“so i saw that picture you posted on instagram,” david says as i walk into his house. “you know that’s against our contract for you to post sexy photos on your own instagram.” i laugh now realizing he’s kidding.

“oh, you thought it was sexy?” i say as i head over to the couch where he sat. he clears his throat.

“nope. definitely not sexy.” and then side smiles to me. i roll my eyes.

“what are you working on?” I ask plopping down next to him.

“well i’m trying to find inspiration for our next shoot. i feel like we’ve already done all the big stuff so where does it go from there?”

i take a minute to think and David tries to read my expressions. “you could tape me to your wall naked!” he throws his head back in a big laugh. “or you could put a giant snake on me... naked.” i giggle at the thought. he raises an eyebrow,

“hey those are good ideas.” his tongue poking out slightly.

“no no please don’t take me up on those offers” i laugh nervously.

he looks to me and for a split second i feel almost sexual tension. he glances to his hallway.

“NATALIIEEEEE, ORDER A GIANT PYTHON!”

“NO NATALIE DO NOT DO THAT!!!”

“NATALIE YOU WORK FOR ME DO IT!!”

“holy fuck you guys why are you screaming?” she says as she walks down the hall.

my face goes slightly red and i giggle.

- texts w/ davey😈

< i came up with an idea

oh god what is it? >

< late night, fun, blurry, slightly sexy photos! i’ll send some inspiration.

wow they actually look good! let’s do it! tonight? >

< yes and bring a couple outfits. we’re going downtown and i have a hotel booked to change in.

thank you daddy d!! >

< shut the fuck up 😂

- DAVIDS POV

“hey you ready yet?” i ask as i walk into her house. she texted me to come in. i look around the dark house. “hello? y/n?”

“BOO!” she yells out around the corner

“fuck, i knew it.”

“no you didn’t! don’t lie to me! i totally got you!”

“ok ok you totally got me.” I chuckle.

i take a minute to take in her outfit. she looks beautiful in red.

“i’m gonna go get my suitcase of dresses. i’ll be right back.” she says to break the silence.

- in the car

“im so excited, the pictures you sent me looked sick!” she says to me. I glance her way and flash her a smile. 

“yeah and I have the best model in LA so it'll be breezy.”

she smiles at me and my heart melts. I look back at the road and try to focus.

- at the hotel

“wow David, its beautiful!” she says as she opens the door to the hotel room.

“yeah I liked this hotel as a background. its gorgeous.” 

“hmm, one bed huh?” she raises an eyebrow to me and giggles.

I sigh, “well we’re not staying the night, but if its too weird I can go down-”

“David! calm down I was just teasing you.” she smiles. she puts her hand on my shoulder and I wipe my sweaty hands on my jeans. 

“okay, well im going to go set this down and then we’ll head out?” she nods to me

I nod back. I find myself watching her as she walks away. I felt guilty so I looked down at my hands. already sweating again. these shoots were a bad idea. considering ive had feelings for her for a while. how could I not? she's everything ive wanted. I get pulled from my thoughts when I see her coming around the corner.

“you ready?”

“as ill ever be.” she kinda looks confused but I usher her out the door with camera in hand. 

- YOUR POV

“stand there real quick. look fierce.” 

“okay now maybe lay across the stairs? pull your dress, show some leg, girl!”

I giggle. he's such a goofy photographer. 

“did you shave your legs?”

I throw my head back in a laugh and I see the light flash.

“that one was perfect.”

“can I see it?” I ask.

“damn yeah it looks great.”

he smiles to me. “okay, lets take a few more and then we’ll go change.”

- the hotel room

“listen I know its 9pm but were you planning on feeding me? I don't work for free.” I look at him waiting for an answer.

he chuckles as he sets his camera down.

“yes, im starving. lets get at least one more dress done and then we can go eat.”

“ok cause I was about to have to call my union.” he laughs at my joke.

I head to the bathroom to change. I have a couple more dresses but I decided to go with this pink club-y type dress. as I slide it on I take one more look in the mirror. I sigh and fix my dress. ill never be pretty enough for him. all night i’ve been having thoughts, ‘maybe he likes me too.’ I know i’m not his type so why am I even entertaining the idea? I turn off the light and head out.

I do a playful spin.

“whatcha think?”

“you look like a dork.”

I stop and pout. “what do you mean?”

“well, ive given you enough compliments on how beautiful you are today. i don't want your head getting too big and leaving me for a real photographer.” 

I laugh, “no, no. real photographers would pay me in money,” I grab my phone off the table and he grabs his water. “you pay me in burgers, so im all yours.” he laughs as he opens the door for me and I walk out of the hotel room once again. we take a few photos of down the hall and in the elevator. finally we get outside and David sees a perfect seat for me. 

“aha! sit there!” I laugh at how excited he got. 

“okay, okay, calm down. you'll pop a woody.” I laugh

he throws his head back in an infectious laugh.

“you wish.”

I cover my face as it gets redder and he snaps a photo.

“don't take a picture!” 

“sorry, I love the candid ones.”

I laugh and another flash goes off. at this point its just flash after flash he's laughing and im yelling at him to stop. im sure there's some not so pleasant ones in the bunch.

“hey, lets go back up, get changed, and then eat.” David offers after we settle down.

“we barely took any though!” 

“I know, but im hungry, and we took a bunch in the hall, and its getting late.”

“first reason was good enough for me. lets go!”

- DAVIDS POV

we sat down at this nice place to eat. she wanted steak so I asked Natalie where the best steak in downtown was. she said this was it. she's wearing a simpler dress now. probably still thinking we’ll end up taking more pictures. I just want to be with her, honestly. she's so funny and smart. 

“anything to drink?”

“cosmo please.” she says.

“just a water for now.” 

“a water?” y/n says as the waitress walks away. 

“yeah, I didn't know we were drinking! I have to drive back!”

“we can always take an uber, and ill have you know today has been very stressful. I had to change my dress three times!” she says as she flips her hair. I just laugh at her. she's so great. 

“here's your drinks, can I get you any appetizers?” 

“actually ill have a margarita please.”

y/n gasps, “David dobrik!” I laugh and the waitress smiles.

“coming right up.”

“wow I can't believe I pressured you into a drink.”

“hey, ive had a hard day too. I had to click this little button like 150 times.”

“our lives are so hard” she smiles as she takes a sip of her drink.

we finally start eating but im already feeling the buzz. we’re definitely taking an uber. everything y/n says is so funny.

after many many laughs and drunken slurring we call an uber and head back to the hotel.

“so we’re crashing here?” y/n asks slightly slurred but a lot better than before.

the hallway looks like its spinning in slow motion.

“I guess, I can sleep on the couch though.”

“no, its fine. I don't care.” she says as I open the door.

she's laughing so hard as she stumbles in. she's gorgeous. suddenly im thinking a little clearer. she just said I could share a bed with her.

she jumps on the desk and asks if I want room service.

I chuckle to myself and grab my camera.

“we just ate!”

“oh fuck we did didn't we?” she laughs. I take a quick photo and her eyes dart to me. 

“hey, I wasn't ready!” she throws a note pad at me.

“im sorry, im sorry,” I pause to smile. “you're just so incredible.”

“what...?” she whispers now.

“I know im drunk and tell me im being a creep, but I just have to get this off my chest.” she searches my face for any clue I could give for what im about to say. I step closer. “I have the biggest, fattest, crush on you.”

she bursts out laughing. im a little taken back. is she laughing at me?

“umm... okay..” I say, suddenly embarrassed by my confession.

“no no!” she yells as she's hunched over laughing. “I just- I can't-” she pauses to breathe. “I was in the bathroom today feeling shitty because I thought I wasn't your type.”

“what are you saying?” I ask, slightly smiling.

“ive been crushing on you sooooo fucking hard!” she yells. I go closer to her and put my finger over her mouth shushing her.

“people are sleeping and while I want to shout from the rooftops, I also don't want to leave this hotel room.” I say. she nods her head and looks me in the eyes. my finger still in front of her mouth.

“you make me the happiest guy in the world.” I whisper.

“you make me the happiest girl in the world.” she whispers back.

she moves in closer until our lips are finally connected. she's soft and sweet. my hands find their way to her back. her hands are in my hair. suddenly we’re moving faster and our kiss is getting stronger. I never want to leave this hotel room.

--

my eyes slowly open to the sunlight shining through the room. I rub my eyes and look around the room. I see a naked y/n next to me. her hair falling perfectly around her shoulders as she lays on her side. her naked back looks like art. while I love the view im also confused. then I realize im naked and my heart starts beating out my chest. it starts coming back to me in flashes. our magical night. her breaths are long and deep so I know she's still asleep. I flip over and grab my phone from the nightstand.

JASON: David answer your phone, what's going on?

NAT: call me asap

ILYA: are you guys serious rn?

MEGAN (publicist): Dave we need to talk

TODD: check twitter dude!

why is my phone blown up? I open up twitter and there I see it.

“David dobrik and y/f/n caught in bed!” read the article title.

“fuck” I groan.

“Dave?” I hear a little voice from behind me.

part threeeeeeeee?!?!?!?!?

[alrighttherescarhead]

could we get a part 4 to that best friend Ethan thing?🥰

Sorry it took so long :(

TRIGGER WARNING!!!

(sexual harassment, violence, alcohol intoxication and death)

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4:

You were now 4 drinks down and to say that you were absolutely fucked was an understatement. Your vision had become blurry and you were struggling to walk like a normal person without embarrassing yourself by walking into strangers.

Grayson was right. You can’t handle your drinks.

Every now and then you flash a cheeky smile at the odd guy that walks by you, earning yourself an eye roll from both Yael and Sam. You're such a flirt when you're drunk and you never have a problem showing it.

”You're such a lightweight, y/n!” Yael shouts over the loud thumping music as you both dance side by side, swaying your hips along with the music.

You— being the most drunk you've ever been— miss hear her completely. ”who the fuck are you calling shark bait?!”

Yael snorts out a laugh, amused with the state that you were in. “I said LIGHTWEIGHT! Fucking idiot!”

Sam casually dances his way over to the two of you, in the middle of the dance floor, with a drink in each hand.

”Who’s a lightweight?!” he questions, handing Yael one of the alcoholic beverages.

”Look! Sammy whammy is here! Welcome brother shark bait!” you point out as you dramatically throw an arm around his shoulder, causing the two of you to stumble back into a group of wasted girls that were dancing behind you.

”Oop! My bad!” you giggle, stepping away from the collision you just caused. You spin around to see that all 3 girls had liquid spilt down their attire and expressed a face to say ’are you kidding me?’— but you didn't give a single fuck.

Without a second to think, you stick both middle fingers up in the air and grin tormentingly before mouthing a ’fuck you’. Much to your amusement, this riles them up.

”Ignore her! She doesn't mean it! She's just drunk!” Sam clarifies, holding his hands up in defence as the girls start to throw abuse at the two of you.

”He’s lying!” you protest. ”I think you all look like clowns right now with all that fucking makeup on your dumbass fac—”

Pulling you away from the situation, before it gets out of hand, Sam raises a brow at you. ”Stop trying to rile up strangers! And Shark bait?”

“SHARK BAIT, OOH HA HA!”

Wow. You were even starting to annoy yourself with the childish shit you were coming out with.

”enough with the shark bait!” Yael demands, playfully clamping a hand over your mouth.

”get ya nasty hands off me!” slapping her hands away, you grimace. ”Could’a been touching sam’s dick for all I know!”

”don't be so silly!” yeal leans closer to your ear, holding your shoulder to steady your balance somewhat. ”I've washed my hands since then.” she winks.

”FILTH! ABSOLUTE FILTH!” you screech, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, sending Yael into fits of laughter.

”I’m joking!” she claims, taking a sip of her drink. ”although—” yael eyes Sam from head to toe, almost drooling at the sight of him. ”Sam is looking pretty hot tonight. Look at that fine piece of—”

”RIGHT!” you turn on your heel, beginning to walk away ”I need another drink.”

”Be safe! We’ll be right here if you need us!” she calls, waving a hand in the air as to say ’bye’.

No, they won't. Give it 5 minutes and Yael will be getting it in the toilets.

You were at the bar, ordering another 2 rounds of shots for the three of you, when a guy comes and sits himself down beside you.

”having a fun night?” he attempts to spark up a conversation.

”uh— yeah? Yes! Very fun!”

”That sounds like sarcasm, babe.”

Ew. Don't ’babe’ me.

You force a smile before taking your phone out from your clutch.

No messages.

Deep down, you were hoping to find a message from Ethan. But instead you received a notification-free screen. You found yourself staring at a picture, of you and E, that you had set as your lock screen. It was taken at the beach a few months back when you first properly hung out with everyone. Ethan was very attached to you that day and wherever you were, he was sure not to be too far away. You found it sweet.

In the photo, Ethan was standing behind you, both arms wrapped around your torso and his chin resting on your shoulder with a huge beaming smile spread across his face. It's your favorite photo to date and you've had it set as your lock screen from the very moment it was taken because E claimed it was ’kinda cute’.

The stranger next to you must have noticed your facial expression alter slightly because he's soon leaning over to get your attention. You slide your phone back into your clutch and close it after double-checking your actions.

”you seem like you're having a shitty time.”

”I am not! I'm having a fucking wicked time, if you must know! See that girl over there?” you turn to look for Yael, but she's nowhere in sight. Neither is Sam.

They're fucking in the bathroom, I bet!

”who?” the guy looks around the room in confusion.

Panicking, you point to a random girl. That random girl just so happens to be the wildest girl out on the dance floor as she was grinding against anyone who walked by her with her hair an absolute mess and red lipstick smudged all over her face. She looks like she knows how to have a fun time, that's for sure.

”That's your friend?” he asks, voice full of doubt. ”Seems like a massive whore to me.”

Was this guy looking to get his ass beaten? Because you'll square up right now!

”fuck you, asshole! That's my best friend! Don't talk about her like that!” You snap. You have no idea why you felt the need to defend this girl so bad but you weren't going to sit back and let this nincompoop hate on her like that.

”what the fuck are you gonna do about it?” the man laughs, taking a sip of his drink.

Smack his drink out of his hand.

You scowl at the man, shaking the thought out of your head before the bartender walks over with the shots you had ordered. You thank them with a small smile before picking the drinks tray up to take it over to an empty table in the corner of the room, furthest away from the bar.

After concentrating on your steps, and guarding the drinks like your life depended on it, you reach the booth you had your eyes on.

Wasting no time at all, you place the tray atop the table and swallow a shot straight down, grimacing at the burning feeling in the back of your throat.

Just when you think you're alone with your own thoughts, you feel a tap on your shoulder, prompting you to turn around. When you do, your heart plummets into your stomach.

It was the nincompoop from the bar and he didn't look happy at all.

”You know, it's rude to walk away from someone when they're talking to you.” his eyes were all over you, scanning your body from head to toe. You cringe, internally.

Still fairly drunk, you mimic his words in a mocking tone. ”It's rude to walk away when someones talking to you— GUESS WHAT?! I. DON'T—”

Taking you by surprise, he grabs your face with one hand and pulls you closer to him by harshly yanking on your arm.

”Watch your fucking mouth, slut.” he grumbles next to your ear, making your blood run cold with fear.

You'd think that someone would notice what's going on and intervene but this is a club, after all. Everyone was too drunk to notice their surroundings, let alone care about a couple of people in the corner of the club.

You always knew your drunken mouth would get you in trouble one day.

Out of instinct and panic, you kick him as hard as you can in the shin and shove him back. He howls in pain, hopping on one leg, as you make a quick dash for the nearest exit.

This is when wearing heels really fucks you.

You didn't dare look behind you because you knew if you did, that asshole would be right on your tail.

Forcefully shoving an exit door open, you become aware of your surroundings. You’re currently standing in the designated area for smokers. But no one was in sight.

To your left: dead end. No brainer.

To your right: 6-foot wire fence. There's no way you’d be able to climb that thing in sweatpants, let alone a fucking dress.

Unfortunately for you, just when you were about to figure out your next escape route, the guy kicks the door open to reveal an evil smirk on his pale face.

Yeah, maybe running through a side door wasn't the best idea.

There was only one exit and douchebag here was standing right in the way of it.

”You really thought you could run away from me?” he scoffs, ambling closer. With every step he took, the more fearful you got. What were this man's intentions?

”fuck you!” you spit (quite literally) into his face, making him flinch over-so-slightly.

He chuckles darkly and wipes his face clean before clamping a hand over your mouth and traps you between himself and the brick wall behind you.

The foul stench his body emitted was gut-wrenching. It was a foisty smell, alongside alcohol and sweat and it was not a good combo, at all. Never have you smelt anything so horrendous in your life. This guy has clearly never heard of a shower before.

”Wanna say that again?” he growls, breathing his disgusting breath in your face, only inches away.

You squirmed in his tight grip, trying desperately to escape but it was no use. He was too strong compared to your intoxicated self.

You begin tugging on the hand that was wrapped around your mouth, managing to break free for long enough to bite down onto it.

Crying out profanities, the man shakes his hand followed by bringing it back up towards your face. Instead of covering your mouth though, he tightly wraps his hand around your throat and squeezes your windpipe. You gasp for air as you begin grabbing at his hand once again but the pain you inflicted on the man in front of you caused a rush of adrenaline to power through his body, making him stronger than he was before.

”You looking to get hurt, huh?” he grumbles angrily, pulling an object out from his back pocket with his free hand. With a flick of his wrist, a blade pops out from the little rectangular-shaped object. Your eyes widen as you come to realise his intentions.

You wince as he angles the razor-sharp blade against your cheek. He then proceeds to press the point into your skin, chuckling tauntingly as blood begins to seep from the fresh wound and onto his hand that was still restraining you from breathing.

You wanted to scream and cry for help but it almost seemed impossible. Everything around you was becoming even more blurry than before and you were positive you were going in and out of consciousness from lack of oxygen.

”you’re so pathetic. Look at you! So weak. So helpless.” he uses his blade to smear the blood that was seeping from your cheek, all over your face. ”any last words, bitch?”

You have nothing to lose.

”F-fuck y-you,” you wheeze, kneeing him in the crotch with all the strength you could muster.

With a groan, he drops the knife and falls to his knees, cupping his privates in the process.

You collapse onto the floor and frantically start gasping for air. Without hesitation, you proceed to army crawl towards the door you passed through moments ago but before you could reach it, you're being dragged back by your ankle. You twist your whole body to lay on your back and begin kicking your feet in an attempt to get the pest of a man off you.

Managing to dodge all of your kicks, he drags you closer to him and places himself in between your legs after yanking them apart.

”GET THE FUCK OFF ME!” you screech, throwing your fists directly into his face.

”Stop! Just hold still!” He holds an arm up in defence as the other begins jerking at your dress, making it ride up somewhat.

”I SAID FUCK OFF!” Your foot flies up, purposely, kicking him straight in the jaw. The impact sparks him out cold as he falls back and cracks his head against the concrete flooring beneath him. You lay there stunned.

Blood begins to pool around his body while you remain sat in the exact same spot, eyes never leaving the scene before you.

You pay close attention to his chest area to discover that it wasn’t rising and falling like it should be. The only movement evident was the deep red fluid that continued to spill from his brutal wound on the back of his head.

Fuck.

Your breathing hitches in your throat as you feel as though you were being strangled like moments prior. Following shortly behind was a tightening sensation in your chest. It was just like someone had you in a bear hug and refused to loosen their hold of you, only tightening more when you begin to freak out. Everything around you becomes hazy as you try your hardest to focus on your breathing.

The exit door unexpectedly flies open to reveal the club's security guard with his mouth agape, looking absolutely mortified.

”I- I swear I- he just—” you stutter shakily, beginning to explain what happened before completely blacking out.

***

Taglist:

@ludiclove

[whumptopia]

Superhero Interrogated

my hero academia oc whump commissioned by @everythingbaku

content warnings: torture, drugging, captivity, blood, very brief emeto mention

—

Waking is slow. Ren—bouncy, energetic, excitable Ren—is normally the first one up, rising with the sun while his husband grumbles about needing more sleep. Now, though, he feels sluggish and discombobulated, his eyelids impossibly heavy. Either he’s hungover from partying hard at a rager (unlikely, getting blackout drunk isn’t really his scene), or… something’s wrong with him.

Groaning, he cracks his eyes open. His vision is blurry, and the world is cast in black and white. Wincing, he turns his cheek away from the too-bright light, squinting at his surroundings. His tongue is dry, and he feels… off. It takes a moment for him to process the sensation, but when he does, his heart spikes.

He’s been drugged.

His awareness is quickly returning, and he realizes he’s not lying in his bed. No, he’s sitting in a chair, his wrists bound to the wooden arms, his ankles tied to the legs. His neck aches from his head being tipped back for however long he was out. When he lifts his head, the room spins and makes him woozy. He slams his eyes shut and takes several deep breaths until the feeling passes. When he no longer feels faint, he opens his eyes again to assess his situation.

Ren has been kidnapped. That much is obvious. He’s wearing his civilian clothes, so maybe whoever captured him doesn’t know he’s a hero. He’s a shapeshifter, so stealth is his trademark, but his inability to alter the color of his eyes (violet) and his hair (steel blue) sometimes makes him easy to detect. He’s been wearing colored contacts and a baseball cap to compensate, but… hopefully his cover hasn’t been blown.

He looks around the small concrete room, empty except for the chair he’s tied to and the led-lights shining overhead. He’s facing the door. It’s made out of heavy metal and doesn’t have a handle. The room he’s trapped in is more of a cell, really, and definitely not some amatuer goon’s basement.

“Shit,” Ren whispers to himself. He’s really gotten himself into trouble this time. 

He perks up at the sound of footsteps, much more alert now. Someone’s just outside the door—multiple people, if his hearing is right. There’s the sound of multiple bolts being unlatched, and then the door swings open.

Three large, burly men shuffle into the cell, all of them wearing masks, effectively concealing their identities. They’re decked out in protective gear, and Ren notes the weapons strapped to their belts. They must be professionals. Ren swallows. 

“Oh, good, you’re up,” one of them says, “Thought you might’ve overdosed. Hard to figure out how much to give you since you’re so tiny.”

Ren doesn’t validate the remark with a reply. Yeah, they’re not wrong. He’s not even five feet tall, and it sucks, but he can’t exactly help it, can he?

The cell is quiet for a minute or so. They seem to be waiting for him to speak, but he isn’t going to risk revealing anything incriminating. Finally, the goon who entered the room first, the tallest of them all, crosses his arms, taking a step toward him. 

“Nekozawa,” he says slowly, and Ren stiffens. So they do know who he is. He changed his surname to Bakugou after he got married, but he and Katsuki have kept their relationship under wraps to avoid public outcry. Nekozawa is his father’s name and the name everyone knows him by.

He blows a strand of long blue hair out of his eyes. So much for undercover.

“And who are you supposed to be?” he replies snippily, tugging on his wrists to test his restraints. No give. It doesn’t look like he’s gonna be escaping anytime soon.

“You know who we are.” The man moves closer, lifting one booted foot and planting it on the space between his legs—not on his crotch but on the seat of the chair. Close enough to be intimidating (and probably a shitty political statement), but Ren isn’t easily cowed.

Sure, he can be gentle, caring, and loving. He has a soft spot for sweets and pastel t-shirts. His husband sometimes likens him to a kitten, simultaneously teasing and flirting with him. All of these things are true, but he’s still a superhero. He’s a badass, and he’s going to make sure these guys know it.

“Can’t say I do.” He shrugs in disinterest. “I don’t think I’d want to know you, anyway. You guys apparently don’t know a thing about hospitality.”

The man’s lip curls in distaste. “You have infiltrated our organization and have been collecting intel for months. You know more than we can allow.”

“When you say ‘we,’ you mean your bosses, right? If they’re so concerned, why don’t they come talk to me themselves?” Ren suggests. He doubts he’ll get the chance to land his eyes on the higher-ups of the criminal organization he’s currently trying to take down, but he might as well give it a shot, right?

Before Ren can blink, the man’s fist collides with his face. His head is whipped to the side, and he sucks in a breath as his punched cheek throbs in pain.

“Our superiors don’t have time to deal with the likes of you,” the man hisses, kicking the chair back. Ren falls hard, knocking the base of his skull on the floor. Stars dance across his eyes, and he groans, his head pounding. Fuck.

He must lose track of time for a moment because the next time he can see properly, his chair has been picked back up and he’s facing the goons once more.

“What do you want?” Ren asks gruffly. He’s not going to give them anything, not in a million years, but it might do him some good to figure out their agenda. They’re all so… composed, despite their violence. They’re clearly used to dealing with prisoners. No tricking them into letting him go, then. 

“You’re going to tell us what you know,” the man who punched him demands, “and who you work for.”

Ren rolls his eyes, and the goon steps forward, fist clenched.

“I work for myself, thank you very much,” Ren quips, “Oh, and I’m not telling you shit.”

The hit comes, but he’s expecting it this time. Still, the blow to his already bruised cheek hurts twice as much as the first punch did. Stifling a noise of pain, he drops his chin to his chest. The coppery taste of blood quickly fills his mouth, and his tongue aches. He must’ve bit it.

A hand grabs a fistful of his long hair and yanks, forcing him to look up. The goon’s expression is unreadable, hidden behind his mask. “Will you cooperate or not?”

Ren grins, flashing his blood-stained teeth. “What do you think?”

The man lets go of his hair and steps away. Ren tips his head back, breathing heavily through his nose. He’s not as tough as he likes to pretend to be. Those closest to him know he’s a brave fighter who’s willing to die to protect his loved ones, and he has a public reputation as an advocate for civil rights. Still, he isn’t exactly eager to sacrifice himself or get hurt in any way. Living is pretty sweet—so is not being tortured, but it looks like it’s a little late for that now.

There’s an audible shuffle of heavy footsteps as the goons exit his cell, and the coor creaks as it swings shut. With a sigh of relief, Ren looks up—and he’s greeted by the sight of one lone man. Not everyone left the room, it seems. It’s the guy who didn’t speak earlier. He’s standing too close to Ren, his hands clasped behind his back.

Without a second of hesitation, Ren spits at him. The bloody projectile only makes it far enough to land on his shirt, unfortunately. Ren was aiming for his face. 

The man doesn’t flinch.

“Cute,” he drawls, not even glancing down to examine the stain. “But you don’t have to pretend anymore, Ren Nekozawa. It’s just you and me now.”

Ren arches an eyebrow. “What, are you supposed to be good cop or something?”

The man chuckles, a hint of smile curling his lips. “I’m not good cop.”

Unease washes over Ren like an uncomfortable sprinkle of rain, damp and chilling. He tries not to let it show. “Bad cop, then? You gonna hit me some more?”

The man looks up at the ceiling as if talking to himself. “My associate was simply the prelude. Most people break from just the threat of violence. We figured you’d be a little less forthcoming, so I tagged along. I guess you could say I’m the main course.”

Ren pulls on his bound arms reflexively, just a little, and laughs humorlessly. “You gonna tear off my fingernails?”

“Maybe,” the man muses, “but probably not. I doubt you’ll need that much coaxing. You’re not as defiant as you pretend to be.”

Insulted, Ren scowls. “You don’t know me.”

The man nods in concession and begins to circle him like a shark. Ren doesn’t follow his path of travel, simply continuing to glare straight ahead.

“It’s true we’ve never met, but I know people, and you’re easy to read.” He cards a hand through Ren’s hair and twirls a blue strand with his finger. “You’re compensating for your size and apparent vulnerability. It must be difficult, being such a weak hero.”

Ren twists his neck around, dislodging the man’s grip, and tries to bite at his fingers. His teeth clamp around empty air, but his attempt does get the man to back off. Much to his dismay, the guy doesn’t appear threatened in the slightest.

“You’re not even good at using your powers. You stick out like a sore thumb with your height, your hair, and those eyes,” he continues, standing directly in front of Ren now. He plucks a small, thin knife from his belt. “So vibrant. I could help you, y’know. Cut them out, and you’ll be much less identifiable.” He positions the point of the blade just above his pupil, so close that Ren doesn’t even dare to breathe.

“Then again, a boy with two missing eyes might be hard to miss.” With a flick of his wrist, the man cuts a shallow line right underneath his eye. Ren gasps, gritting his teeth. Blood streams down his cheek like a river of tears. 

“Fuck you,” he hisses, trying to maintain his bravado. His heart is jackrabbiting in his chest, and he’s gripping the arms of the chair with white knuckles. He won’t admit it, but he’s scared. He wishes Katsuki was here to protect him. So much for being a badass superhero.

The man hums, wiping the blood off the blade using the collar of Ren’s shirt. 

“There are two ways this can go,” he begins, retracting the knife and replacing it with a much larger one. Ren eyes the jagged blade warily. “You can drop the tough-guy façade and answer every question I ask you—”

“Fat fucking chance!” Ren interjects, snarling. The man raises one unimpressed brow. His mask only covers his eyes, leaving the rest of his face on display. Ren briefly wonders if his lack of concern for his identity is supposed to be an intimidation tactic. 

“Or,” the man continues, splaying one palm over Ren’s collarbones and pressing him flat against the chair’s back. With his other hand gripping the knife, he slashes down the front of Ren’s shirt, cutting open the fabric and the skin of his chest. Ren yelps. “I can make you talk.”

Panting, Ren looks down at the gash. Blood oozes from the wound, dripping down his sternum to his stomach. His insides churn at the sight. 

“So, Nekozawa,” he says amicably, as if he isn’t threatening to torture him, “What will it be?”

Ren squeezes his eyes shut, taking a deep breath. The work he’s been doing for the past couple months is important. The criminal organization he’s been spying on is guilty of abhorrent crimes and needs to be brought to justice. He thinks of the victims, past, present, and future. He thinks of his fellow heroes, all of whom are undoubtedly braver than him. He thinks of Katsuki, the love of his life. Katsuki would never surrender.

Ren opens his eyes and shoots his interrogator a defiant grin. “I’m not talking. You can try and make me, but it won’t work.”

The man smiles, as if that’s the answer he wanted to hear. “We’ll see, Nekozawa. We’ll see.”

—

Four hours later, Ren cracks.

It’s the knife in his shoulder that finally does it. The man digs the blade past muscle, all the way to bone, and twists. Ren screams, tears flowing freely.

“Who do you work for, Ren?” the interrogator asks for the upteenth time, calm as ever.

“I, I told you, I work a—” Ren begins, but then the knife twists again, and he shrieks: “Ah, Deku! Deku!”

The blade stills. 

“I work, I don’t, I don’t report to anybody,” Ren continues, unbearably ashamed of himself for the name drop. He held out for hours only to break now. “We sometimes work together. He’s not my boss or anything.”

“Not good enough, Nekozawa,” the man sighs, ripping the knife out of his shoulder. Ren yells, his expression contorted in anguish. Yanking the blade out hurt almost as much as the initial stab.

Groaning, he slumps in his chair. His entire body is covered in cuts, some shallow and some deep. His pale skin is coated in sticky blood, and he emptied his stomach a while ago. Drenched in sweat, exhausted and dehydrated, Ren is pushed past his limits. He never thought he would surrender even the tiniest bit of information, but here he is, giving in like a coward. Fresh tears leak from his eyes.

The man sheaths his blade and takes Ren’s chin in hand. “Does Deku know of your current operation?”

Ren exhales shakily and lies: “No.”

Deku is an incredibly powerful superhero. He went to school with Ren’s husband, Katsuki, and they were rivals for some time. Deku is too well known for undercover work and is much more suited for direct attacks. He’s taken out several outposts after Ren gave him names and locations. They’re not working together directly, but they both know of the danger said criminal organization poses. 

The man’s nails dig into his cheeks. “I don’t believe you.” He digs the thumb of his free hand into a deep gash in his side, and Ren’s mouth falls open in a wordless scream, his eyes rolling back. “Who else is involved?”

Blood dribbles out of the corner of his mouth from his bit tongue. “M’not… telling.”

The interrogator releases his chin and wraps his broad hand around his throat, squeezing tightly. Ren’s eyes fly open, and he struggles to breathe.

“I’ve been very patient,” the man begins, “And I appreciate what you’ve told me so far, but, frankly, it’s nothing I didn’t already know. Maybe I need to be more persuasive.”

Ren shakes his head a fraction of an inch, gaping like a fish out of water. He isn’t sure how much he can endure. He needs a break before he says something stupid. Black spots dance across his vision, and his lungs burn. Time passes impossibly long, and wet, sputtering gasps escape his lips. Eventually, just when he thinks he’s gonna pass out, the man releases his neck. Ren coughs, gulping down air, his vision blinded by tears. He feels so weak and pathetic. What kind of hero allows themselves to be caught and tortured? He doesn’t know how he’ll live with himself after this. If there even is an after. He doesn’t see any chance of escape, and what if no one rescues him?

Ren clenches his fists and steadies his breathing. He can’t lose hope. Katsuki will come for him. If not Katsuki, someone else. He won’t be left here to die. He just needs to hold out and keep his mouth shut.

The man returns to his side with a syringe in hand. He cocks his head and looks down at him with a faux-sympathetic smile. “Hurts, doesn’t it? Here, I’ve got something that’ll help you take your mind off it—and hopefully loosen your tongue.”

“No, no,” Ren protests, squirming in his bonds. He tries to crane his neck away from the needle, but the man grabs his hair and holds him still. Ren whimpers as the drugs are injected into his system, falling limp almost instantly. Whatever the interrogator has given him works fast, and the room begins to swirl. 

“Better, right?”The man pats his cheek, patronizing. “Now, about the data you collected. Mind sharing some names with me?”

Nausea washes over him in waves, and he squints against the lights. The cell is suddenly way too bright, and he moans. A fog settles over him, and he has a hard time remaining focused on his goal.

“What… what?” he mumbles.

The interrogator hums, frowning. “Might’ve given you too much there. It’s hard to determine the correct dose. I’m not used to administering to persons of such short stature.”

Ren isn’t listening, his attention shifting. He’s in so much pain. He just wants to be home with his husband, safe in bed, wrapped in his arms. What he wouldn’t give to see Katsuki’s face right now. 

The room rocks, and the interrogator stumbles. At first, Ren thinks it’s the drugs screwing with his vision and playing tricks on him, but then it happens again.

“Explosions…?” the man whispers, brows furrowed in confusion. 

Ren barks a laugh. Explosions! He’d recognize the sound anywhere. Katsuki is here!

He smiles at the interrogator, eyes bright. “You’re so fucked.”

[thedreammweaver]

You really thought I’d leave? (Burton-Schumacherverse riddlebird , trans!Oswald)

Warnings: Dysphoria, misunderstandings, accidental misgendering, Clueless Ed is clueless, brief mention of suicidal thoughts of no physical consequence, medium to mild amount of blood, forced to come out by stupid dumb uterus, so. many. penguin. tears., A N G S T, pain, suffering, the lads talk about their trauma, 🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃 (it turns out okay though)

Ed was still feeling his post heist high when he threw himself onto Oswald’s bed while Oswald was hanging up his coat, hat, and umbrella. Ed looked over when he heard Oswald sigh, he was rubbing at his back like it hurt. “I’m sorry..” Ed blurted out.

“It’s not your fault.” Oswald said flatly as he went behind an ornate screen in the corner of his bedroom to change into pajamas. Ed had wondered a few times why Oswald didn’t change in front of him but after all they’d only been in a relationship for a few weeks, it felt like longer to Ed, but maybe the other man just needed more time. Ed rested his head in his hands, feeling guilty

“I was being theatrical and I took too long...if I had hurried up like you said batman wouldn’t have gotten there in time to hurt you..”

Oswald scoffed “It’s OK, Eddie! I needed to let off some steam anyways.”

“If getting thrown into a cement wall where you could’ve been seriously hurt and I would’ve spent forever wishing it had been me instead because..” ‘Because I love you. C’mon, Ed, just say it!’ Ed screamed at himself in his mind “well... because it just wouldn’t be right..I mean if that’s you’re idea of letting off steam then sure.” Ed pouted, kicking himself mentally and burying his face in Oswald’s bed, the comforter smelled like him which lifted Ed’s spirits a bit. “I don’t wanna go home tonight.” He hadn’t meant to say that out loud but didn’t regret it either. “Then stay,” Oswald said, coming out from behind the screen now dressed in black and purple satin pjs “I mean...if this- or- we work out you’ll probably be staying here half the time anyhow, right?” “Yeah, I guess so.” Ed said absently getting off the bed to peel himself out of the green glittery spandex suit he was in, he only had his briefs and a plain tank top underneath, he’d learned to wear some sort of undershirt with the spandex if he was going to Oswald’s after unless he wanted his core to feel an ice box. “Look! The bat got you too, we’re even.” Oswald chuckled pointing out bruises on Ed’s arm and shoulder as he got under the covers. Ed rolled his eyes and crawled into bed next to Oswald he had been afraid this would be awkward but the idea of falling asleep next to Oswald came naturally and he was soon asleep.

Ed was stirred awake just as easily as he’d drifted off by Oswald quicky getting out of bed and muttering curses “Shit, shit, shit...goddamnit..” Ed sat up a bit “Wha...Ozzie, what is it??” He asked groggily. “Uh- it’s- just- nothing, nothing just uh-uh stay there or you maybe better sleep on the couch instead uh...just- go back to sleep. Don’t turn the lights on.” After that panicked deluge of unclear instruction Oswald ran off to the bathroom down the hallway. Ed still drowsy, now worried and curious he turned on the lamp by the bed and looked over to Oswald’s side of the bed, all he could make out was a blurry red blob. He huffed and clumsily reached for his glasses, he’d left them on the nightstand before he and Oswald had gone on the heist as he’d gotten changed at Oswald’s too. His eyes were slowly adjusting and the red blob revealed itself to be a sizeable bloodstain, Ed’s heart dropped. He got up and ran down the hall to the bathroom as well. When Ed went to open the door there was a shrill “DON’T COME IN!!” which made him jump and step back. “But Oswald you’re bleeding!”

“I know, Ed, it’s normal...” Ed could hear that Oswald’s teeth were gritted. “That was a lot of blood Oswald! You could have internal damage from “letting off steam” with the bat earlier. I have to take you to the hospital, I know you hate doctors but-“

“It is normal, Edward! Now leave me be!!”

Ed was taken aback, Oswald had never yelled at him like this before. He put his ear to the door, he could hear plastic ripping and crinkling, was Oswald trying to tend to the damage himself? “Oswald, please please let me help. I know you have a lot of weird..stuff going on but bleeding like that isn’t normal.”

“Yes, it is. This has nothing to do with that son of a bitch Batman, this happens every month..”

“EVERY MONTH?! Since when??”

“...since I was about twelve or thirteen..I don’t remember.”

Ed was bewildered “Since you were- you mean as in years old right??? Oswald! That could be indicative of SERIOUS health problems!!”

“Ed just leave me alone please...stop worrying, it’s fine.”Oswald’s gruff voice was beginning sound shaky. Ed was wracking his brain trying to figure out what was going on. “Oswald please talk to me, if this is “normal” I want to understand why..I-I mean is it like the stuff that comes out of your mouth or-“ “No! It’s not like that...”

“Then what??-“

“Gimme a minute! I’ve never really had to..vocalize it..before..”

Ed leaned his head on the door, now he felt confused and impatient. Oswald cleared just throat nervously “So...I’m a man right except I- Except I got born with the wrong sort of...equipment for that..”

“What??” Ed asked, more a noise of exasperation than a question. “Jesus, Ed- I...got born with a chick’s body but later I figured out I’m not a chick alright, not really..not on the inside-We’re both guys but if you wanted to narrow things down to a strictly physical matter I have more in common with the catbitch than with you..”

Ed’s brow furrowed “So you’re a woman?”

“NO!! GOD NO, ED!! DID YOU EVEN HEAR A WORD I JUST FUCKING SAID?!”

“Okay! Okay! I-I-just-“

“DON’T EVER SAY THAT SHIT TO ME AGAIN!!”

“OKAY!!” There was an uncomfortable beat of silence before Ed spoke again “So.....what are are you?” Oswald scoffed, a pitiful tone to the noise “You’re just trying your damndest to make me feel like shit aren’t you?” Ed’s heart broke when he heard Oswald’s voice break. “No! No! I- Oswald, I swear I’m just trying to understand. S-So you’re a guy? Right? On the inside..that’s what you said? But you have...girl..parts? Then-so the blood.......oh......you-...you’re just..menstruating?” Oswald didn’t answer him. “Oswald??” Ed gently pushed the door open. Oswald was on the floor leaning against the bathtub, he was just in his underpants and pajama top now, the blood stained bottoms tossed aside. Parts of his thighs were also bloodstained, he was sobbing into his flippers, a pathetic gasping hitching noise. Ed got on his knees beside Oswald, he’d never seen the man cry before and it was making him panic “Oswald, please...I didn’t mean to- did-did...I get it right the last time at least..?” Oswald whined “Yes!...yes...but it doesn’t matter...you don’t like me anymore..” “What?? Of course I still lo- like you.” Ed grabbed the other man by the shoulders to make them face eachother. Oswald took his flippers down from his tear drenched face “Just wait, you say that now but in time..you’ll get frustrated and you’ll leave, your need for a “real man” will win out over any feelings you claim to have for me. Eddie, I’ve been through this before..I know how this works..” Oswald broke down into sobs again “Except it’s worse this time..because you actually fucking matter to me, you’re not someone I paid to tell me they love me just because I needed to to hear it on a shitty night.” He was beginning to hyperventilate now “I-I never needed anyone before like I need you and I-I didn’t mean to keep this from you but I got so scared! I was so SCARED!! Scared because I think if you left me especially because of this I’d-I’d just have to go and find the tallest building in Gotham and throw myself off...see if maybe one penguin an fly after all...this poor old bird couldn’t take that, not after everything....not after all this. I thought about it so much and I’d really rather die than have you leave me, Eddie, leave me like every other little sparkling thing that cuddled up to me as if I meant something to them! Like my parents the night I was born!! They doomed me to a life of being thrown away. Th-They cursed me that night do you understand?! An-and I so need you to be the one that breaks that curse cause I. AM. telling. you! I can’t stand that happening again..not one time more...please...not once more..please.....pleease...” Oswald begged as he collapsed into Ed’s arms, sobbing, burying his face in the other man’s chest. “Oh...Oswald I- please don’t talk like that...like you’re nothing..” Ed felt tears flowing down his own face as he cradled his bird. “I..love you. God, Oswald, I love you..you really thought I’d leave?” Oswald raised his head a bit “...Eddie, people get killed for being like me...you can never tell how people will react to what they don’t understand..” Ed absently rocked himself and Oswald softly “...I love you...I wanted to say it for so long but I was scared too, I thought you were gonna be like these type of guys I messed around with in school, they’d call you baby when you’re alone and act like they really care but then you see them with their girlfriends the next day, acting like they don’t know you...and you just feel like a fucking idiot all because they don’t like who they are... I never thought I could mean as much to you as...how you said.” Oswald wrapped his arms around Ed’s waist. “You love me? Why?” There was a pitiful wistfulness in his voice. Ed didn’t have to think for long “You’re warm. You’re the only thing that makes me feel held, only thing that makes me feel safe, wanted. It’s like I wasn’t even real before I met you...I was just here..barely. I carry your warmth with me everywhere now, so I can feel real all the time..instead of like I’m floating away. You...obviously love me too, why?”

“You make me feel human. I got too used to being an animal after being treated like one...manipulated like one. You talk to me like- I don’t know...like you care..” They sat there holding eachother for a few minutes more until Oswald’s crying resumed “It wasn’t enough that I had to get born like this..” he sobbed gesturing to his flippers and nose “I had to get born with the wrong insides too...as if I wasn’t a complete freak already..” Ed held the shorter man tighter “No, no, no, no, no, don’t say that, Oswald, don’t say that,” Ed cooed, stroking Oswald’s hair “I promise I’m going to learn how to treat you right, after all this time you deserve it..I promise I’m gonna learn, okay? And I’m not leaving, you don’t have to be scared anymore..” Oswald was still crying, Ed scooted back a bit so he could see Oswald’s face. “Look, look, I-I can run you a bath so you can get cleaned up and I’ll take care of the bed, then you don’t have to think about it anymore tonight. Would that be good...if I did that?” Ed offered earnestly. Oswald sighed and nodded, Ed smiled weakly and cupped the other man’s cheek “Good-..good, so I’ll- I’m gonna do that and you can stay here and just relax, please.” Ed kissed Oswald’s cheek before getting up and turning on the bath to let it fill while he stripped the bed. Before leaving the bathroom he just had to say it once more “I love you, Oswald.” “I love you too, asshole..” Oswald grumbled, while wiping the dried, drying, and still wet tears from his face. Ed sighed happily knowing that his bird was starting to calm down already, and basking in the knowledge that he was loved back.

[keelywolfe]

FIC: Biting Off More Than You Can Chew; part 12

Summary: It's the morning after Rus's heat. Time for a little truth or consequence.

Tags: heatfic, dubious consent, NSFW, frenemies to lovers, mates, first time, more if I think of them

PLEASE READ THE TAGS: This is a Heat story, so there are going to be issues of consent. I don’t do partner rape, nope, but hey, I want to be straight with y’all. I like heatfics personally, but I understand how they can be troubling for some people. So there it is.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6

Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11

~~*~~

Read Chapter 12 on AO3

or

Read it here!

~~*~~

Rus was dead. It was the only explanation for how shitty he felt.

Being dead sure as hell sounded better than dealing with all the aches and pains he could feel settling into his bones. Better than dealing with the trickle of memory that was starting to soak into his thoughts, of spending the last night in a heat-induced haze of fucking, and by the shiny damned stars, having sex all night long only sounded good if you were getting paid by the hour. Anyone off the clock needed some damn sleep after a while and that was a fact.

Since dead people didn’t need sleep, though, Rus was gonna have to come to the regrettable conclusion that he was alive, in which case he might actually have to deal with some shit.

In the positive column, his soul felt…okay. Settled. That seemed like a good word for it or maybe deeply satisfied would be better. A miles-deep itch luxuriously scratched with a firm application of dick. A quick trip over into the negatives was he felt like every single one of his bones had a bruise fucked into it somewhere.

Also, he desperately wanted a cigarette and oh, yeah, he was in Edge’s bed and the last time that happened, the waking up didn’t exact rate a 10 on the hospitality scale. He could feel the presence of a body behind him and unless some serious changes in time and space happened while he was out cold, it was a good guess that it was Edge. Yay.

Welp, since he wasn’t dead, there was nothing for it. Cautiously, Rus eased over to take a gander.

Edge was there, all right, sound asleep, rusty-dark circles beneath his sockets. Stood to reason he’d still be zonked; he’d been along for the entire bouncy ride and stuck around for the cleanup. That was something to be grateful for right there. The bond between them felt oddly empty, like it was lying dormant. Rus prodded at it mentally like poking at a sore tooth and there was only the faintest pulse of response, not even enough for Edge to stir.

Yeah, buddy was tired, he deserved a chance to sleep in, right, job well done and all that shit. Hopefully, he wouldn’t be too pissed off if he slept through his shift, but Rus wasn’t sticking around to find out. Time to get out before black comedy took a left turn back to the drama category.

Didn’t exactly start off well; the second Rus tried to climb out of bed, it felt like this morphed from porn to some kind of stealth game. First objective, slithering off the mattress without moving it enough to wake the Edgelord. Next, his clothes were scattered to the four corners of the room, forcing Rus to tiptoe around to gather them up. At least they weren’t hard to find. Aside from his loose wardrobe, the room was neat as a pin.

Rus slipped his clothes back on, grimacing at the lingering dampness on his tank top and at the crotch of his pants. He sure as hell hoped Muffet held on to the sweatshirt he’d left at her bar even if she charged a cleaning fee, it was one of his favorites. Thinking of Muffet made him wince. His reputation was going to take a hell of a beating over last night or at least start up a Scooby Doo style mystery.

He’d deal with that later. Wasn’t much he could do about his clothes now, he wasn’t hanging around to do laundry, and he only needed to wear them long enough for a couple shortcuts.

Done and done, time to hit bricks and if the shortcut down to the machine woke Edge, all he could do was send an annoyed text. Yep, it was time to go, back home where he didn’t have to think about anything he didn’t want to, tuck all this shit about heats and bonds and who-the-fuck-knew else back into the dark, dusty corners of his mind while he focused on naps and smoking. Back to the ol’ basics.

Except, Rus still found himself hesitating, looking back where Edge was sleeping curled up beneath the rumpled blankets.

Rus’s soul gave an uncomfortable throb. Edge looked so damn young when he was asleep. All of the sharp corners and creases that bound him up during the day eased, leaving his skull smoother and the cracks that ran through his socket starker, more poignant. A pretty unwelcome reminder that he was the same age as Blue…and that he’d never had sex before, fucking hell, what a way to lose any vestiges of virginity a guy had, both times in a feverish, heat-induced marathon. Rus wasn’t an expert on the mornings-after, okay, he’d only slept over by accident a few other times. Dropped unconscious was more accurate, he’d been drunk as hell every time. Sneaking out for a hasty walk of shame while his nighttime companion and/or mistake was still out cold was fine on those occasions, but this time? Seemed kinda rude, what with the whole soul bond thing. Maybe really rude.

Besides, could be if Rus stuck around, he’d get breakfast out of the deal again.

That hooked it. He’d stay until Edge got up and see how this played out, and if it started with, any version of, ‘Why are you still here?’, he’d hit bricks. He rubbed his chest right over his soul, mentally ordering it to quit with the whining, he was staying, okay?

For now, he needed a damned cigarette. That itchy craving might be a pale comparison to driving heat crawling through his bones, but it didn’t mean it wasn’t irritating. The crumpled pack in his pants pocket held two mangled butts and his lighter. It’d have to do.

Rus stepped outside the bedroom door and carefully closed it before taking shortcut down to the front porch, already shaking out a cig before he sat down. It was cold outside, the sudden chill refreshing on his bones. The soothing rush of nicotine was all the better coupled with the linger ache in his bones. Nothing like a smoke after getting laid.

Not that ‘getting laid’ really lived up to the experience, now did it. That first time had been something, but his turn in the heat box was…fuck. That shit had been something else, the memory a blurry mess of pleasure and hot aching, his soul uncaring as it slowly collapsed into pain and dragged his dick along for the ride. If that was what it was like with a helper along, Rus didn’t even want to think about what it might be like to endure it alone. Someone needed to ask evolution for a refund, because that didn’t qualify under normal wear and tear.

Then again, if getting knocked up kept a Monster from having to go through that, it was a hell of an incentive.

A shadow fell over him and Rus looked up. And up, and up, at a hulking bear Monster, radiating LV without even a check, their beady, reddened eyes focused laser-sharp on Rus.

Yeah, okay, that was a hell of a wake-up call to remind him he was still in Underfell.

“Hey, there precious,” the Bear said, low and growling. “don’t you smell delicious?”

Welp, that was ominous on about three different levels, four if Rus could use complex mathematics, but this guy looked like 2 + 2 might tax his skill level.

Suddenly, Rus was feeling a lot more self-conscious about his tank top; there was a reason he normally bundled up in a sweatshirt and it wasn’t because he couldn’t take the temps.

Before Rus could decide whether to take his chances telling them to piss off, or shortcut out and ruin one of his last cigarettes, a familiar voice said from behind the Bear, “might wanna take another whiff there, smokey, that one’s taken.”

The Bear did, loudly, nostrils flaring, and Rus would’ve sworn he paled even though his face was covered in fur. He ducked his head and it was more than a little bemusing to see him so subservient to a guy not even half their height, muttering out, “Sorry, Red, I didn’t know.”

“uh huh,” Red hooked a thumb towards town, “you got a free whiff, now fuck off.”

The Bear dropped down to all fours and waddled hastily away. Rus watched him go, their tail waggling like a flag of surrender. Then he looked back at Red.

Red looked like Red, that ever-present smirk of his lingering on his mouth. He tucked his hands into his pockets and rocked on his sneakered heels. “you shouldn’t be outside yet,” Red said, “you still reek and some of the dimmer bulbs won’t check who you belong to, since the boss hasn’t bothered to put a collar on you yet.”

“yet?” Rus took a long drag, snorting out smoke through his nasal cavity. “yeah, i don’t think so. i don’t belong to anyone.”

“don’t take it so hard. he belongs to you, too,” Red sounded resigned. As if had any fucking right to, as if this whole clusterfuck wasn’t his fault, and yeah, it might’ve still gone down this way if Red just told him about this, maybe handed over that fabled heat manual along with the rock and the hard place, but at least Rus would’ve had a choice. At least this would be all his bad decisions, that much he was used to. Not Red using him like a bandage, slapping him over his brother’s wound and expecting him to soak up all the juices.

Only to find out it wasn’t as easy to toss him out afterward and fuck it, Rus was losing the metaphor, but the point stood. Red didn’t have a right to sound like that, fucking prick.

What all this really came down to was that there was a choice to make here, and the bitch of it was, Rus already knew what one he was going to make.

Rus sighed and held out the pack of cigarettes, and after a minute, Red took the last one, tossing the crumpled pack on the ground where Edge was probably gonna find it and bitch about it. Red sat down next to him on the step and took the silently offered lighter, too. They sat there for a while, smoking in the quiet morning and honestly, what a laugh, right? Red and Sans could hold onto a grudge in both their greasy little hands until the Universe went to dust and Rus’s soft little soul folded like a card house after one shouting match.

Seriously, Red really knew how to pick his scapegoats, didn’t he.

“i really hate you, you know,” Rus said conversationally. The artificial light was getting brighter. If he were back home, Rus would already be napping at his sentry station.

Red only chuckled humorlessly, “there’s another thing you and my bro have in common.”

“your brother doesn’t hate you.”

Red shrugged, flicking ash across the snow mounded around their porch. “wouldn’t know. haven’t seen him since his heat.”

“what?” That sure as hell got Rus’s attention. Yeah, Red skipped out on movie night, but Rus hadn’t known it was that bad. “you live here.”

Red’s grin was blade-sharp, his eye lights firmly on his untied shoes. “see that’s the thing about being able to shortcut. you don’t have to see anybody you don’t wanna.”

“true.” But Rus couldn’t help but wonder who didn’t want to see who, ‘cause if Red did all this for his brother, it was pretty damn hard to believe that he’d ditch him over the fallout. “edge is still pretty pissed, huh.”

Not that Rus had a leg to stand on in that fight, not when he was still pissed off himself. Once Edge figured out who sent Rus into the lion’s heat den—an extremely short list of suspects— stood to reason he’d be steamed.

Red said nothing. He flicked his burnt-out butt into the snow and pulled a slim silver case out of his pocket. Weirdly posh for him but when he opened it, there was a neat row of those little cigars that he liked to smoke. He held the case out, offering, and fuck it, Rus took one. Nicotine was nicotine, even if the harsh smoke made him cough. When Red made a move to pat him on the back, Rus leaned away, glaring through his cough.

“don’t,” Rus wheezed out. “don’t touch me.” He took a couple deep, clean breaths, and added, “we aren’t good, i want you to know that. we aren’t friends. you fucked me over good with this shit.”

“yeah. i did.” Red didn’t argue. He smoked his cigar and looked out at the snow drifts around them. At his battered version of Snowdin, his world that was so fucked up that it forced Monsters to go into heat and nearly die themselves to keep the population up.

Rus sighed, absently twirling the cigar between his fingers. “but if you want, i’ll try and help you get back in with your bro.”

That got Red’s attention. He turned to Rus, sockets narrowed suspiciously. “why would you do that?”

“because edge didn’t ask for any of this shit, either,” Rus said, low, “and now he’s stuck with me of all people, isn’t he. he doesn’t deserve to lose his brother, too, especially not in your shitheap of a world.” And it was a shitty, shitty thing Red did, but damned if Rus didn’t get it. What wouldn’t he do for his own bro? Might be better not to put it to the test.

Red said, dubiously, “don’t think that’s how he’d look at it—”

He didn’t get a chance to elaborate. Rus got the faintest impression of someone else’s panic at almost the exact moment the door swung open abruptly behind them and Edge came boiling out, nearly tripped ass over teakettle over them. His wild panic faded when he saw them, the flare of his eye lights dimming to confusion, “Why are you outside?”

Rus shrugged and held up the cigar in answer. “don’t worry, red is a good bodyguard.”

From the corner of his socket, Rus let his eye lights linger on Edge’s bare ribcage, the smooth, broad bones occasionally intersected with the scars of old cracks. The clotted bite mark on his sternum was stark in the artificial daylight and looking at it gave Rus a weird itch, echoed in the healed scar on his collarbone. Interesting to see that Edge hadn’t put on a shirt or even his boots. He was going to go searching in the snow in his bare feet, so panicked he was gonna chase Rus down without shoes.

Guess it was a good thing he decided not to leave. The last thing he needed was Edge showing up half-naked in Underswap Snowdin and tearing apart the town searching for him. That soul bond shit really did a number on a guy’s head, didn’t it, plus maybe some dregs of that heat lingering at the bottom of the mug.

He had the bond pulled in pretty tight right now, anyway. Rus didn’t feel a bit of Edge’s visible discomfort. His ungloved fingers clattered lightly against his skull as he ran a hand over it. “Both of you get inside.”

A direct order that neither Rus nor Red made any move to obey. Rus pinched out his cigar and tucked it into his pocket in case of a later nicotine emergency, then tipped his skull back to look at Edge, all that restless impatience turned upside down.

“you gonna make us some breakfast?” Rus asked lightly.

Edge’s eye lights settled on his and he stared at Rus, unblinking, and fuck only knew what he was seeing. Then they slowly slid to his brother’s back, at Red who was currently staring holes into the ground.

“Yes,” Edge agreed, slowly. “Now come inside.” He didn’t wait to see if they followed, turned on his bare heel and went back in, leaving the door open behind him. Red made a show about getting to his feet, tossing the cigar butt into the snow and giving his ass a lazy scratch. He was shifting impatiently by the time Rus did the same, minus the ass scratch, and shuffled inside.

Edge was waiting by the kitchen door. He said to Rus, “Why don’t you go upstairs and take a nap while I cook? You look like you could use a little more rest.”

“don’t have to tell me twice.” Especially since he suspected Edge wanted to talk with his brother without an audience. Welp, he’d gotten Red through the door, the rest was up to them.

Rus took a shortcut right up into Edge’s mussed bed. The sheets had already given up all the heat they’d collected overnight. Didn’t matter, they were still comfortable and the blankets plentiful. Rus burrowed in, sighing, and closing his sockets, firmly ignoring the spicy, sex-musty stink that was probably baked into the linens even as it made his soul twitch feebly with interest.

Nope, you had your fun, he told it sternly. Time to sit in the back seat until his pelvis felt less like it’d been used as a rocking horse.

Honestly, he didn’t mean to actually fall asleep or at least not as hard as he did, but he must’ve because the next thing Rus knew Edge was there, along with the tantalizing aroma of pancakes and coffee.

The spread was as good as the last time, golden-brown pancakes with a pat of melting butter pooled in the center, mingling with the drizzled honey. Tempting as that was, despite the hungry cry in his soul for sustenance, Rus reached for the coffee first. Only two notches above lukewarm with plenty of milk and sugar, just how he liked it.

Edge set the tray on the bed between them, digging into his plate of pancakes while Rus got close and personal with the coffee. Didn’t take long for him to finish his caffeinated bonding and start in on his own plate, groaning his bliss out around a mouthful of delicious caky sweetness.

“this is so good,” Rus mumbled, then before Edge could grouse about his tables manners in spite of the lack of table, he swallowed and added, “i could get used to being served breakfast in bed after a long night of heat sex.”

Edge’s fork paused almost too briefly to be seen, quickly cutting into his second pancake. “I think something like that could be arranged.”

It was lightly said, but the reminder made Rus grimace anyway. Yeah, if what Edge told him before held true, they were gonna be doing this every few months or so, weren’t they. A shitty situation all the way around, but fuck it, at least there might be future pancakes. He poked at a bite with his fork, the soft innards dissolving into a honey sludge.

As good as the food was, it was weirdly awkward to be sitting here eating pancakes, even more than it’d been the last time. Last time, Rus thought he was about to head home and all this would end up a footnote in his autobiography. Now Rus knew it was gonna end up as a chapter of its own and sitting here trying not to look at the bite mark he’d left on Edge’s sternum on the same bed where only a few hours ago he’d been putting in a good effort to pound Edge through the mattress was a little…yeah, awkward didn’t seem to quite cover it.

Reluctant as he was to think about last night, he did have some clear memories, and hadn’t he just been telling Red that none of this was Edge’s fault? Might be time to put his G where his big mouth was.

“i’m sorry for what i said last night,” Rus said bluntly. “it was shitty of me to blame all this on you.”

Edge didn’t even pause, only swallowed down his current mouthful and said, “I’m hardly going to hold what you say in heat against you. One of the first things in the manual is to not take things a heat-stricken Monster says personally.”

“yeah? that’s probably sound advice.” Rus dragged a bite of pancake through the leftover honey puddled on the plate, sopping it up. “i didn’t know how awful that was for you before. i suspected, you didn’t exactly seem like you were having a good time, but that?” Rus ducked his head, shuddering. “that was something else.”

“Being in heat is awful,” Edge agreed. “however, it shouldn’t be that bad again. Not according to the manual.”

“it’s word is law, huh?”

“After a few centuries of refinement, I’m willing to follow it.”

Rus was running out of pancakes to use as a buffer, time to speed this up. “i feel like an asshole for having to ask and i can guess what you’re say, but…um…are you okay?”

Stupid how that faint smile of Edge’s sent a little pulse through his soul, this bond thing could be really annoying. “I’m fine. And you wouldn’t be an asshole even if I weren’t, it wasn’t your fault.”

“it feels like my fault.” He’d been the one climbing on top, he’d been the one pinning Edge down. Willing or no, it’d still felt like Rus was taking too much, taking, forcing, driven by unrelenting heat and—

“Who are you going to trust, your feeling or me?”

Rus only laughed, a little uncomfortably. He dabbled a finger in the honey dregs, licked it clean. “i’m not usually much of a dick man, anyway. better to receive than give, in my opinion.”

“I don’t think I’m prepared to choose either way.” Edge mused thoughtfully as he set the tray with their empty plates on the floor. “I’d need more data.”

Oh. Well, now. That almost sounded like an invitation, now, dinnit?

Maybe if he…gingerly, Rus opened up the mental wall he had up around his soul juuust a little, a wide enough crack to peer out. He could feel Edge doing the same, so fucking weird, allowing the barest tickle of emotion that wasn’t his, but Rus was ready to match that emotion pretty damn quick.

Desire, as thick and sweet as that morning’s honey.

Rus swallowed hard, “uh, do you maybe…?”

“Yes, I want you,” Edge said bluntly. Just tossed it out there like a ball for Rus to fumble, except not really because Rus had a hold on it now, opening up his soul a wee bit more. Okay, so, if he could feel all the concerns and worries that Edge put out, stood to reason he’d feel want, he’d felt it a little last night. Wants and needs and desires and pleasure, and holy hell, this was gonna be interesting, wasn’t it.

“aww, sweet talker,” Rus cooed. He reached out and traced around the bite mark on Edge’s sternum teasingly, skirting dangerously close to the damaged bone. “you up for some experimenting?”

“Are you offering?”

“yeah, i am.” Enough dancing around, Rus was a little too tired yet to try for the tango. And why the fuck not. His cock was out of commission, but his cunt was all right, and as far as he knew, the only sex Edge ever had was his own heat and its aftermath, and then Rus’s. He could stand to be shown a good time. Hell, Edge was a better lay than most anyone else Rus went home with before, plus he came with morning after pancakes. Maybe this bond thing didn’t have to be so bad, especially if Edge was willing to let him show off a trick or two.

Rus leaned in, carefully telegraphing each move, and kissed him. Jaggedly sharp teeth parted, allowing his tongue inside and there was something about navigating around them, the almost-danger of it that pulled a groan out of Rus, fuck, yes, this was gonna be amazing it was—

An unguarded flash of emotion pulsed through Rus’s soul, a spark of unexpected warmth. Rus jerked back instinctively, flinching away from Edge, both hands curling over his chest as he asked shakily, “what the fuck!”

That emotion was stifled immediately, snuffed out and hastily hidden behind that mental brick wall again. “My apologies,” Edge said smoothly. He leaned in, trying to kiss Rus again but it was about ten steps past too late for that.

“no, no, holy shit, what the fuck!” That brief, shining flash, so brief, but Rus knew it for what it was. Too-warm and tender, settled insidiously against his own for only a moment, but he knew.

Love.

Rus scrambled out of the bed, nearly tripping over the tray on the floor, dishes rattling as he backed hastily away, his trembling hands held out as if to keep Edge back.

Edge didn’t try to stop him, he only sat there, looking bleak and…and…no, fuck no…

“no,” Rus choked out, “no, i can’t do that, this bond.” He clutched a fist over his sternum where his soul was aching to manifest “i can’t…please…i can’t deal with it making me feel things that aren’t real, i can’t.”

“It’s not the bond,” Edge whispered, barely audible. He looked way, down at his hands twisting in his lap. “I felt that way before I ever touched you.”

“don’t…” Rus blurted, low and thready. The sourness rising at the back of his throat overwhelming the lingering sweet. “don’t you fucking dare. i don’t believe you.”

“Why do you think my brother chose you?”

“He told me—“

”Oh, I’m sure he had a very good excuse. But heat can be more selective than you’d think.” Edge closed his sockets, exhaling long and slow, “My brother knew exactly how I felt about you and he knew that I never wanted this for you. You deserve a choice, a better choice, any other choice than this.”

“you don’t…you don’t feel that way about me…” Rus said shakily. “you can’t.” More denials trembled on his tongue, but how the fuck was he supposed to deny what he felt with his own soul.

He didn’t even think about shortcutting, only knew he needed to be gone.

The basement was cold, colder even then outside, untouched by the artificial light. Rus fumbled at the machine controls. He had to clear it and reset the coordinates for Underswap twice. Home, he had to get home, that was all, he had to get away from here and…

…and then what?

What was he gonna do? Go hide in Underswap again until heat struck one of them down?

Rus covered his face with trembling hands, inhaled the nauseating mixture the smell of tobacco and sweet honey that clung to his bones. Everything had changed and nothing had changed; the heat was still going to come and there was no place deep enough Rus could bury himself, no Monster he could pull between his legs to ride him to forgetfulness that was gonna stop it.

He didn’t know what to do anymore.

He stood in front of the shimmering blackness of portal, his soul knotted into a screaming tantrum of not fair and when had that ever changed a fucking thing? Terror and anger could fight it out for supremacy in his head, but he had some pretty visceral proof that he couldn’t run away from this one and that was the bitch of it. It was chained directly to his soul and there was no easy escape, not this time.

It was hard to force any kind of clarity into his warbling thoughts, but Rus did the best he could. Deep, calming breaths, his breath clouding in the cold of the basement. He was shivering by the time his panic loosened its hold, bones rattling in the stillness. Okay, obviously, his head and soul were twisted on backwards and upside down over this. What he needed was an outside opinion, someone who didn’t have a horse in this race to give him some damned advice.

Rus went through the portal and closed it behind him before heading upstairs, towards the best opinion he knew. He’d barely opened the door when a shout rang out, making him cringe.

“WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN!”

His brother all but flew off the sofa, furiously. Tears stood out in his sockets, shining against the starry blue of his eye lights. “I have been looking everywhere for you! The Monsters at Muffet’s said you were acting strangely and--” Whatever Blue saw on his face made him pause, his righteous anger fading. When Rus dropped to his knees and opened his arms Blue was there in an instant, holding him close. His small, sturdy body was comfort, it was home, and Rus greedily absorbed the feel of it.

All too soon, Blue pulled away. He didn’t go far, cupping Rus’s face in his gentle, gloved hands. “Papy? What is going on?”

That was his bro, always so kind and trying so hard to understand, to make things better. Blue wanted so terribly much to fix it, whatever it was, things and places and people and Rus.

“sit down, bro,” Rus sighed, nudging him towards the sofa, “and i’ll explain. but it’s a long story.”

“Then start telling it,” Blue settled in on the cushions, folding his hands in his lap expectantly. “and brother? I’m expecting a much longer tale than ‘Fuzzy Bunny’.”

Rus resisted the urge to say anything about it being a tale about getting tail and sat down next to him, sprawling into his brother’s lap. “okay. you remember a few weeks ago when i stayed out all night—"

~~*~~

tbc