#they at least acknowledge that i am on my feet constantly while they are at work to ensure my grandmother is alright

[heavenlydreamangelflyhigh]

my neighbor is rlly something else..he always feels the need to inform me that locations around me r "hiring" and feels the need to tell me how much i'd make...even though i quite literally care for my grandparents and already have several gigs that i work on my own time. its just really weird? it comes off as almost passive aggressive. i made the mistake of telling him i plan on getting on disability for the time being bc some extra cash would be beneficial for me and my doctors appointments and he told me the mcdonalds near us was hiring. ok.

[samkerrworshipper]

Please could you do an imagine with Lucy bronze where the reader is also on the England team and gets injured during a game and Lucy is basically just being really cute and fluffy as well as a little protective 🥰

AHHH

I loved this request sm so here you go!

i feel like this could be followed up with a part 2 to expand on the reader and lucy’s relationship so lmk if you want to see that! also please feel free to keep sending in requests god knows i need inspo rn lol

A shoulder to cry on

Lucy Bronze x Reader

fluff, lil bit of angst, injury, graphic injury, pain, hurt/comfort, 3200 words

blurb: when lucy’s girlfriend goes down in a match how does she deal with it and how does lucy look react

I was too busy watching the ball flying towards goal to see the body flying at me. Too busy focusing on the Australian goalkeeper to acknowledge the knees slowly sliding under my own feet. Too busy focusing on getting my team a goal to give us a chance to stop myself from being floored by the Australian whirlwind, Ellie Carpenter. I went head first into the turf, my body flopping down onto the grass with my head dug into the dirt. My ears were ringing and I was a groaning mess. My whole body hurt and I couldn’t even muster the energy to turn over to access the damage that had been inflicted. All I could feel was gut wrenching pain, from my feet all the way to my hip.

When I was finally turned over I was met with the sight of Ellie and Steph Catley, two Australians that I didn’t want to see right now. I was a screaming, shaking, crying mess. Both women were very clearly taken aback by my emotion. The stadium was a ruckus, and as my teary eyes flashed up I saw my goal being replayed on the big screen, a goal. At least that was something, I’d done something to help us claw our way back. We were 100 days off from the World Cup start though, 100 days. Judging by the amount of pain I was in though that was nowhere near enough time.

As a professional athlete there is always the background fear that you are going to get injured. An overwhelming worry constantly in the back of your head that maybe this time it is going to be your last, maybe the next time you step on the field it might be the last time in a while. As you become a professional, as you start playing for your nation you learn to silence that part of your brain, you can’t afford to live in fear that you are going to get hurt. But watching teammates, friends, people you love get hurt, reinstalls that part of your brain, makes you wonder if maybe you are next, maybe next time it’ll be your turn. That fear though, it’s nothing in comparison to actually getting hurt, nothing in comparison to realising maybe this time it actually is your last.

That was all I could think about as the two Australian women tried to talk to me, tried to communicate with me. The first one of my teammates to rush over was Leah, who shoved both Australians away before crouching down beside me.

“Hey y/n, take a deep breath, the medics are about to get here, you don’t need to worry.”

Leah’s words were like a breath of fresh air, a break from the constant ringing in my ears.

“L-ucy, need Lucy.”

Leah nodded at me, smiling down at my face and nodding. Her hand made it’s way down to my face and wiped away the tears that were falling.

“She’s on her way angel, just stay patient for me, she’s making her way over, just take those deep breaths.”

“Hurts, hurts so fucking bad.”

Leah nodded at me, I watched her eyes creep down my body to my legs and that was how I knew it was bad, because not even Leah could avoid looking.

“I know, I know angel, I am so sorry that I can’t do anything about that. Just keep taking those deep breaths for me.”

I couldn’t help but continue to sob as I waited for someone, anyone to give me some kind of relief. All I could feel was pain and it was clear in Leah’s mannerisms that she didn’t really know how to help me, how was she supposed to help me?

“Y/n, listen to me, take a deep breath, I know you are in pain, the medics are getting here as fast as they can so you just need to take some deep breaths.”

It didn’t help that we were positioned on the opposite side of the field that the medics would be on and it was also a problem that if the umpire hadn’t blown her whistle they wouldn’t be allowed on.

“How bad is it?”

The words left my mouth in between sobs and breaths. Leah clearly didn’t know what to say, she clearly didn’t want to worry me any more but Leah wasn’t a good liar and she had a shit poker face.

“Don’t worry about that, keep your eyes on me. It’s just me and you, kiddo.”

Leah had taken me under her wing long ago, she treated me like her little sister.

I watched her eyes flash up in a panic and before I knew it she was jumping off of her feet and rushing off in the direction behind my head. I couldn’t help but turn my head to watch where she was going. I was still a little bit spaced out so it took me a few seconds to spot her out but once I did I found her rushing towards Ellie, who was sitting a few metres behind me. I couldn’t figure out why she was rushing over until I spotted Lucy approaching, running towards her, a look of absolute anger on her face. Leah was trying to get to her before Lucy inevitably got to Ellie. I watched it unfold as Lucy just made it to Ellie before Leah did, yanking her up by under her armpits.

I didn’t get to see much more, my head was pulled back to being flat on the turf by Millie and Sam Kerr, my ex-teammates from Chelsea.

“Hey y/n/n, the medics are just about to get here, it’s going to be alright.”

Millie’s tone of voice was similar to that of Leah’s, calm, patient, the voice of a captain.

“I need Lucy.”

Lucy was my other half. The love of my life, my everything. I wanted her, I wanted her to be there to hold my hand and to tell me that everything was going to be fine, even if it wasn’t.

“I know, Leah’s sorting her out, she’ll be here in a minute.”

Lucy was insanely protective over me, to a concerning degree. In the past year I’d made the decision to move to Barca, to be with her and it had been great but something I’d learnt from playing alongside her regularly was that she was a little bit too protective over the people she loved. A defender did so much as foul me on the pitch and she did everything in her power to seek some sort of revenge whether it was in the form of physically hurting them or doing anything in her power to get to them.

“I need her Mil, please.”

Millie nodded at me and then looked at Sam, I was in fucking shambles.

“I’ll go get her okay, feel better kid.”

Sam patted me gently on the shoulder before leaving just me and Millie. I was still lying on the pitch, fighting back more tears as I looked up into the sky and just prayed for this to all be over, for the pain to subside and for everything to just dissipate.

The medics were the next people to make it over to us, accompanied by Sarina and our trainer. The game had obviously been stopped for me so they seemed to be in a rush to get me off, with my goal we had a shot at winning now.

“Hi Ms y/l/n, how are you feeling?”

“In pain.”

My answer was flat and the medic let out an empty laugh at my reply.

“Okay, on a scale of 1-10 where would you put yourself at?”

“A 6.”

Sarina snorted at my reply, she knew that I had a high threshold for pain, I’d met her originally when I was playing as a rookie for Chelsea, she’d been the Netherlands coach at time and the coach for a professional team in the Netherlands which she’d tried to recruit me for but I’d turned her down. I’d never have guessed a few years later she would be coaching me on a National level.

“That means its a nine.”

I glared at Sarina, she knew me a little bit too well.

“Okay, this is a penthrox whistle, it should administer immediate pain relief, enough that we should be able to get you on the stretcher and off the pitch.”

I looked at Millie, then at Sarina, then at the Medic, immediately shaking my head.

“I’m walking off.”

All of their faces told me that I was missing something.

“I can’t allow you to do that.”

In all of the chaos, all of the emergence, I hadn’t had the opportunity to even look at the source of my pain.

Before I could say anything more Lucy was crouching down beside my head and I couldn’t have been more grateful to see her. Her hand slid into mine and just her face, her smile, it was enough to make me feel like I wasn’t fighting a fucking battle.

“Luce, can you please tell them to let me walk off the pitch, just let me have that.”

I was fighting back tears and I could tell that Lucy was fighting an internal battle. Her eyes flashed down to my legs and then back to my face and just the split second gasp was enough to tell me that it was bad, really bad. Her hand fell to my face and that was how I knew it was not good and that was when I started sobbing again.

“How bad is it? Stop beating around the bush just tell me.”

All of the people above me looked between each other before the medic spoke,

“Your knee is dislocated, you’ve got some deep lacerations and stud marks in your shins and a piece of your tibia is sticking out of one of them. You are bleeding a lot, we need to get you off the field and to hospital, take the green whistle and we’ll get you off the field as soon as possible.”

Those words hurt, a lot, more than the injury itself. I nodded to the medic, I wasn’t walking off the field with that list of injuries, I was surprised I was still conscious with that comprise of injuries.

“Baby, just take the pain meds, you're in enough pain.”

Lucy’s voice, her convincing was probably the only thing that made me nod my head and let them pass me the inhaler. I got straight to inhaling it, and within the first ten or so inhalation I felt the pain relief start to kick in. It was good, it made me feel almost ten times better. Lucy was there the whole time, whispering sweet nothings into my ear as they medic attended to my legs and Sarina wrapped a blanket around my shivering upper half.

It was about five minutes before I was floating on a pain free drug induced cloud. When that happened they started to transfer me to the stretcher, with the help of Sarina, Lucy, Millie, Leah and the two medics. It was a touchy process, they were very clearly trying to keep the movement of my leg limited. The actual movement of getting me onto the stretcher had me screaming, pain relief or not it hurt insanely and I knew at that moment that my World Cup dreams were pretty much over. I cried the whole way to the ambulance. Lucy and my teammates had to desert me once I made it over to the sideline so they could finish off the game, eventually, along the way I passed out from the mixture of drugs and blood loss, something I was grateful for.

When I started to stir I had a headache but I felt warm. It took me a few seconds before I cracked my eyes, it was dark outside, my room was dark. But not so dark that I couldn’t make out everything around me, the lights from the hallway and machines giving me a steady source of light. The first thing that I saw was that a big percentage of the Lionesses were piled into the room, Georgia, Leah and Keira and piled onto a pull out sofa, Rachel, Millie and Mary sharing the spare cot beside me and a few of the other girls scattered in seats across the room. It was cute, looking at all of my teammates who were clearly gassed from the game but still here. Sarina and Lucy were slumped in the seats immediately to my side. Just as I let my eyes float over to Lucy her own blueish eyes tiredly connecting with my own. A tight lipped smile made its way to her mouth as she acknowledged me.

“Hey baby.”

Her voice was hushed, it was clear she was trying her hardest not to awaken any of our teammates. As she blinked away the sleep she slipped her glasses over her face, locking her eyes properly with me once the frames were slipped over her eyes. Her voice was enough to put more tears in my eyes, I was pretty sure I’d cried enough tears for about six people.

She stood up quietly, letting her hand fall to my face, gently rubbing a circle against my cheek. It was enough to have my lip trembling and my eyes darting across the room. Before I knew it I was a pleading staggering mess.

“Why me? Why now?”

Lucy’s facial expression just broke into a frown and I could feel her worrying from a few centimetres away from me. Before she said anything she pressed her lips to my forehead. I sobbed into her, not really worried about waking up any of our companions.

“I know sweetheart, I know, it’s okay, I’m going to be here for you every step of the way.”

My breaths came out in hiccups and the hospital gown I was in clung to my body with the sweat that I was producing from working myself up.

“How bad is it, did we win?”

My words came out in pieces, it sounded like my Spanish, which was very rough and not very consistent.

“No, but don’t worry about that. They relocated your knee, you had to have surgery on your leg but it’s just a metal plate and some stitches for the lacerations from Carpenter’s boot.”

I honestly felt bad for the Australian defender, she’d had it bad enough with the press for the last while, let alone getting someone else’s blood all over their cleats.

“So my world cup dream is over.”

Lucy let the words hang in the air for a few seconds, it solidified the words in the room.

“Hey, not necessarily. The doctor said that the surgery went really well, that the fracture was pretty minor and that he expects a speedy recovery. You could be back running in 4-6 weeks.”

Even Lucy didn’t sound that optimistic, it was clear she was trying her hardest but she was struggling.

“My fitness will be shot, 4-6 weeks off the pitch pre world cup practically guarantees my spot gone, even if I’m running, in what world would Sarina take the chance of putting me on the pitch.”

Lucy’s brow furrowed, it was hard to catch in the dim light but I managed to with my eyes adjusting to the darkness.

“I won’t have anyone putting my girl down, especially not you. You will be fine. I can’t promise you that you will make it back on the pitch, you will make it to Australia, if it’s the right fit. Maybe it won’t be, maybe that’s fate and I know that’s shit to accept, shit to get the short straw and I am so sorry that you are in that position. If I could switch with you I would. I would do anything for you and you know that, I’ll be here for you everyday, I will give up anything to make this easier for you, I can promise you that. I can promise that I’m here to be whatever you need. You need a shoulder to cry on? I’ve got two. You need someone to listen? I’ve got two working ears and great advice if you want it. You need someone to just be here for you? I will sit with you for as long as you need.”

Lucy’s words hit home for me. She had always been willing to do anything for me, she’d walk to the ends of the earth to do anything for me, she’d made that clear from when we’d first met. I’d been apprehensive from the beginning but she’d fought and fought until I’d given into her and when I had I’d fallen head over heels in love with the woman.

I moved myself over in the bed and patted down next to the space I’d left open beside me. Luc seemed apprehensive to begin with, her eyes darting between my leg and my eyes.

“Please, I just want my girlfriend to hug me, can I have that?”

Lucy bit her lip, she was clearly a little bit nervous about the idea but her slumped shoulders and tired eyes were enough to tell me that she was tired and just as needy as I was. Neither of us slept well without the other, on the rare occasion that we were separated we both struggled with the loss of contact.

“I’m not sure y/n/n, I don’t want to hurt your leg.”

She was so cute when she was nervous, her voice a nervous murmur. I put her worry to rest fairly quickly though, the pain meds were running through my veins and I was equally as tired.

“Luce, my bad leg is on the other side, I just need some contact, I need to feel loved and comfortable and this hospital bed is making that hard, so please, just hug your girlfriend.”

Lucy sighed and nodded at me, she couldn’t deny me, ever, I had her wrapped around my little finger.

“Alright, how about I slide behind you and you can rest against me?”

It took a little bit of push and shove and some wincing and pain on my side but eventually we got Lucy situated behind me, up against the pillows. I was resting comfortably against her chest and stomach, my head resting in her neck. It was everything I’d needed to make me feel a little bit better and once we’d both gotten settled I smiled up at her gratefully. She pressed her lips to my forehead, I swore that I could feel the compassion behind it but maybe that was the morphine speaking.

“I love you.”

She’d smiled down in that goofy way that she did when I gave her a compliment. Lucy was a goofball, it was one of the things that I loved about her. She was always laughing and making people around her laugh, she was just full of good energy and it made me a better person.

“I love you too, my love, always, get some rest. It’s all going to be okay.”

[politemenacephd]

Arachnophilia (Part Fourteen)

Drider!Miguel O'Hara x Reader (+18)

Chapter Masterlist 🕷️

Word Count: 5040 Notes: Voyeurism build up is here, will be dropping that next chapter. For now here's some tension/proper argument w HQ!Miguel and some fluff w Mig

‘You’re sure you wish to return today?’

You paused midway through the very unflattering motion of hoisting your suit over your hips, rolling on the bed like a flipped beach turtle, and turned to find Mig watching you from across the room.

His big red eyes already betrayed his concern as they darted from your face to your body, as did his slowly tapping paws.

You shot him a reassuring smile. ‘I’m sure, Mig! Don’t worry, I have a plan.’

Mig made that same adorable face he always did when he was disgruntled, as his nose wrinkled up and his brows folded in over his big puppy-dog eyes. Your reassurance would never be enough, sadly.

‘You could- stay, another hour’ he offered. ‘They can’t fault you for being a little late.’

You sighed through the nose and finally did up the last hidden button on your suit, snapping it into place.

It’d been a few days since Mig’s confession. You’d managed to snag the extra time away from the society by calling up Jess and going through some early talking points online, but all the time you’d gained had been devoted solely to working through Mig’s worries.

His possessive nature had certain gotten worse since he’d acknowledged his past to you. He startled at every minor noise, he rustled against you constantly to keep you saturated in his scent. He panicked when you weren’t in his line of sight, and he was patrolling his territory more and more.

The worst one though was at night, when he’d hide behind his giant legs and you had to gently coax him out.

It wasn’t easy, but you weren’t opposed to comforting your monster partner. You knew it was going to be hard on him. Today he’d made enough progress to at least let you return for a bit, and that was great, but you knew to expect relapses.

With a slight hop you stumbled to your feet and crossed the nest, carefully taking his hands into yours.

‘Uhuh, I could stay an extra hour. And then you would say, please stay another hour, then another, then another, and then I’m called in for insubordination and I get my watch taken away’ you said, firm but soft.

‘Mi arañita, it’s in my blood to keep you here’ he insisted.

‘Nope, can’t use that excuse anymore. I’m not in heat, am I?’ you said. You tried to keep it light by booping his nose with your finger, but Mig remained tense.

‘It’s in my human blood, to keep you here, is what I meant’ he said, his voice dipping. ‘I just want to know you’re safe. I can’t, know, if you’re not here with me.’

Sensing that he was spiralling you put his hand over your chest. He could sense your heart thumping beneath your ribs, small but strong. It seemed to have an instant calming effect.

‘I’m okay. See? I’m okay. And I’m gonna set something up’ you reminded him gently. ‘Right? I’m gonna go get some stuff while I’m at the HQ, like we discussed. You’ll be able to see my vitals on a screen here so you know I’m safe, and we will- test, you being able to call me, because I know if I give you unlimited reign you will call me every second of every hour. But, you know, I’m bringing stuff back to make this easier.’

Mig grumbled and rolled his tongue against his fangs at your reminder. ‘You… are you, sure, they won’t try to keep you away from me?’ he asked.

‘I’m as sure as I can be, Miggy. I mean Jess clearly got annoyed with Miguel for trying to separate us, remember? I don’t think the elite’s care, so long as we’re not endangering anyone. We’re two consenting adults after all.’

‘A monster and his pet’ Miguel grumbled. You couldn’t help but giggle at his sour tone.

‘A consenting adult monster and his consenting adult pet’ you added. Mig didn’t smile with you but you saw him tap his spider legs a few times, which you knew now meant he was happy. It was like a silent laugh for when he was too worried to laugh openly.

‘Hey. Come here’ you whispered.

You gestured for his foreleg and he stretched it out. You took it between both your hands and raised it your lips, pressing a single kiss to the fluffy little paw, showing no sign of fear or disgust. You then gestured for his human hands.

‘Here. Here, babe.’

Mig outstretched his hands, and with his fingers in your grip you kissed each of his claws one after the other. You could sense his body deflating, slowly losing all of that pent up tension as you showed his body the same love you always did.

‘Pretty spider’ you whispered after the final claw was crowned with your lips. When you looked up he was smiling at last.

‘Pretty spider’ he repeated back. You craned your neck and noticed his abdomen was rustling, the fur on his back gently bristling as his middle legs tapped at the floor. You beamed.

‘Mmm. Happy dance’ you noted.

Mig closed his eyes as he smiled, his old, chiselled face growing soft as he made the dance more overt. He tapped his feet back and forth, gently rustling his fluffy body up against your face. You nestled right back. There was nothing better than seeing that little display.

‘Okay, okay. There we go.’ You gently leaned back after giving him a quick squeeze, your hand flying to your watch. You knew you had to make the portal now or you’d never leave.

‘Guess I better get going.’

With a few clicks a portal to the HQ exploded into the centre of the nest, covering your face in that ethereal orange light. You glanced back over your shoulder and saw that Mig had stopped dancing. It hurt your heart, but it had to be done.

‘Can I have a goodbye kiss, please?’ you offered with your hand outstretched on the precipice of the portal. Mig was eager to take it.

‘Ah- yes, of course mi arañita.’

You should have been wise enough to know that this was a double play on his part. The moment your lips connected his hands were on your waist, digging in deep to the soft flesh beneath your suit.

His lips moved slowly, parting before rejoining as they smothered your own. They were so soft compared to the rest of his ruggedness, soft and full and warm. As his tongue teased your mouth they grew wet.

‘Mm—’

His low moan made your knees weak. It vibrated through your lips and into your soul. His lips parted right as you usually would have left, and soon you were entranced by his tongue.

‘Mm- mmm—’

You forgot the portal at your back as Mig gently rumbled against you, his fluffy body vibrating in a way that made your insides tingle. He dug his claws in deeper, a small dose of shock to widen your mouth, allowing his tongue to go right down your throat.

When he pulled back there was a long and heavy trail of spit between you, one that he licked into his mouth without ever breaking eye contact. You felt that pleasurable tension in your gut triple over.

‘Ah—Mig, I know what you’re doing’ you panted.

He’d held you for so long that the portal had closed behind you. You let out a mildly exasperated huff while he tilted his head, his face sickeningly innocent.

‘Doing what? I just wanted to kiss mi arañita goodbye.’

‘You told me you were incapable of lying, Mr.’

‘I am, yes. It’s not a lie’ he said. The earnest affection in his eyes broke you, and a smile crept back onto your face.

‘Mhm. It’s just- leaving out the full truth, right?’

He coyly darted his eyes to the side, forcing you to grab his thickset jaw and turn his head back. You were on your tip toes to reach him.

‘The full truth, is… I don’t want you to go, but, I know you have to. So I will do what I can to keep you here, because I am selfish. And… I will miss you, when you are gone. Because you make me happy. And, I like having you close’ Mig murmured.

‘I know’ you sighed. ‘I know. I’ll miss you too. And I will be back soon. I promise.’

You bumped foreheads once more before pulling back, and this time Mig let you go.

…

As you flew through the dizzying portal you were surprisingly optimistic.

You were going back to the society, and this time you were no longer alone. No matter what you had someone to go home to, someone to talk to, someone to hold you.

Your perspective on the society had also certainly shifted since meeting Mig, and that was something you had to contend with. Knowing that they were hiding things, these cosmic mistakes they didn’t want to deal with, it bothered you to no end. You’d previously viewed the elites as these unfathomable being, who just had to know best because of where they were, but not anymore. Especially in the case of Miguel.

You felt a little bad, but you hadn’t been fully honest with Mig about your intentions. Yes, you were going back to grab some items for him and to show you were available. Yes, you were returning to ensure your relationship was sanctioned.

But you also had something else in mind. Something a bit more personal. Something for the boss to deal with.

You skipped a few steps as your body was thrown from the depths of time and space, your shoes clacking as you hit the HQ floor. You stepped out into the lobby, into a bustling sea of spiders, and you breathed in the familiar smell of Nueva York. It smelled like spandex, like cleaning fluid and cold park air.

You felt the portal close at your back, leaving you standing alone in this great gathering of your peers.

And then you froze.

Almost half the spiders around you were still, their head craned in your direction. You felt the eyes on every inch of your body. You met their gazes through their masks, and despite you clearly looking at them they didn’t turn or look away.

You frowned. What was going on?’

A new sound filled the quiet buzz of conversation, the worst possible sound you could hear. Muffled laughter.

You spun around only for the laughter to stop, and by the time you’d turned back all the spiders were pretending not to have looked at all. They were deep in meaningless conversation, their heads down, and soon you were once again lost in the crowd.

You could feel your face burning, your cheeks hot and clammy.

Oh, fuck. Shit, shit, shit, fuck, shit, fuck. Did they know? How did they know? Who could have told them?

For a moment your blood ran cold. Wait. Had, Miguel, told everyone? To punish you?

In a brewing panic you started to make your way through the HQ.

All the way out of the lobby and up through the dizzying web of beams you felt eyes on you. You occasionally heard laughter but now you couldn’t tell whether it was aimed at you or not, which only spurred your paranoia, and you only continued to spiral further as you went about your objectives.

You stopped by the lab and grabbed the tech you needed for Mig: a watch for him to programme, a monitor for your vitals, and a few old or nearly scrapped holographic screens that you figured he could fix up. All eyes on you, staring at you through screens and over desks. You hurried out.

From there you made a stop at HR, a pretty run-down and disorganised area compared to the rest of the society, where you grabbed some paperwork Jess had ordered you to fill out. You felt eyes peering over piles of paperwork, soft whispers and curious mumbles hidden behind walls as you piled up the work.

By the time you made it to your last stop you could feel the sweat on your lower back from stressing so hard. Around Mig you felt safe, emboldened, but you were realizing quickly that you were still alone here.

You crept into the open research base and dropped into one of the empty desks. You were here, right back where you started, the day you first met Mig.

You thought of him, back in the nest, and your heart twisted. You missed him.

‘You’re the one, right?’

You jumped as an unfamiliar voice sounded off against your ear. Somehow you’d been snuck up on, and three spider-people you’d never met before were crowding around the back of your desk. Their faces immediately put you on edge; they looked far too familiar with you, far too excited.

‘I- the one, what?’ you stammered.

‘You’re the one who- you know—’

You felt your stomach drop as the spiders broke into playful smiles. You tried to push the chair back and run, abandoning the PC while it was still on, but to your horror the other spiders held you in place. You slumped back into the chair as they offered an overlap of fake coos and soothing words.

‘No, no, hey! Please we’re so curious.’

‘Curious about- what? Don’t- grab me!’ you said, inadvertently snapping as you pulled from their grasp. You could feel other people in the room starting to glance over at the commotion, and it was driving your anxiety way up.

‘You had sex with Miguel’s variant, right? The spider one?’ one of them whispered. The spiders holding you in place were practically giddy as they spoke over themselves.

‘We… they’re, all spiders’ you stammered.

‘No, no! You know what we mean. There’s one that’s like fully half spider, right? And you had sex with him?’

‘I—That’s, nobodies business’ you said defensively. Sadly, your tone only spurred them on harder.

'No come on please, oh my god- does he look like Miguel? Is he that big?'

'Does he have the teeth?'

'Oh god, ew, what's the spider part like? Was it like an actual spider?'

'Did you--' 

‘¡OYE!’

You went rigid in your seat, as did the spiders hounding you. Heavy footsteps filled the room as a huge, foreboding shadow slowly covered your body from behind.

‘What’s going on?’

You turned to see Miguel standing over you, his hands on his hips. The spiders almost fell over each other trying to placate him.

‘Hi! Sir, we were just—’

‘It’s fine Miguel we were—’

‘No gossiping. We’re not a rag newspaper, we’re a serious organisation, that does serious work’ Miguel said, his voice slow and cold. ‘Work that I assume you’re currently procrastinating on, since you’re here, and not somewhere else.’

The spiders quickly abandoned your desk, leaving you spinning awkwardly on the spot in your little chair. Miguel had to grab the back to make it stop.

‘Ah, hey, you—’

‘Come with me.’

Miguel didn’t wait for you to respond after cutting you off. He turned and walked in the opposite direction, his presumptuous, authoritative aura gleaming off him like musk.

You thought about saying no, just on principle, but it wouldn’t help. You’d been planning to talk to him anyway. With a slightly reluctant shrug you obeyed.

Miguel led you in silence up through the heart of the HQ building to his office. The whole way you continued to avoid the curious eyes on your back, focusing instead on what you wanted to say to him.

Up the beams, through the corridor filled with anomalies, down the messy side hall and into his office, where at last you were both alone. You shuddered in the gloom, where the only light was a thin lay of blue from above that tinted your skin. It was only here that Miguel finally addressed you directly.

‘I’m sorry they’re bothering you’ Miguel called over his shoulder.

‘Uhuh. Yeah, me too. Strange how they knew’ you said, making no effort to sugarcoat your accusatory tone. Miguel grunted a chuckle as he picked up on the implication.

‘It’s not strange. HR receives filings whenever a relationship needs to be sanctioned, such as- Peter’s and Mary’s receiving crisis training or therapy, or any spiders entering into inter-dimensional relationships. It doesn’t happen often, so when one comes up featuring a Miguel variant and a random spider, and some intern copying it notices the names, they talk. They talk to their friends at lunch, and then they talk to their friends on missions. Suddenly, everyone knows.’

You felt your face burning as he spun this elaborate story. You wanted to believe he was lying, but, it was one thing he and Mig shared in common: they didn’t lie.

‘I didn’t tell anyone’ Miguel grunted as he jumped onto his desk. ‘I understand how- frustrating hormones can be. I don’t blame you for what you had to do.’

‘Uhuh’ you said, your voice wary.

‘I just don’t understand why you’ve still choosing to remain around my counterpart now you’re free’ Miguel continued as he booted up his set, more to himself than to you.

‘Because he’s my friend’ you said sharply.

Miguel glanced over his shoulder, his one visible eye glowing brightly against the dull blue hue. He looked you up and down.

‘I don’t get it’ he repeated in a low murmur. You hated it but his presence still made you slightly weak, and that soft voice was painfully close to how Mig usually spoke.

‘If you were in pain I would have helped’ he said as he turned back around. ‘It’s not like you had no options. Was I really that cold to you?’

You balked at his unexpected confession, especially when said in such a nonchalant way. It was a pretty heavy thing to drop, surely, to admit that he’d sensed your heat and been willing to sleep with you too?

‘You- are you serious?’ you whisper shouted. Your outrage made Miguel chuckle again, something that only made your face warmer.

‘I’m serious, yes. I would have helped.’

‘Oh, oh of course you would have. Just, out of the kindness of your own heart?’

‘More or less.’

You scoffed openly. ‘My god- Do you have no shame? At all?’

Miguel turned again, craning his neck a little further this time to eye you up fully. You saw the thick curve of his back as he arched it.

‘I’d advise you not to be combative’ he murmured. ‘I’m still your superior, and I’m also well aware of what you’ve done. I don’t think you should be the one to tell me about shame.’

‘Why should I be ashamed?! Because I had sex with a nice person I was friends with, because we shared a mutual attraction? Oh my god, how could I!’

‘You let a monster mate with you and almost get you pregnant’ Miguel snapped back, his voice rising ever so slightly.

‘He’s not- a monster’ you said. ‘Not- I mean, physically he is, unusual, but he’s a good person.’

‘You have no idea who that man is’ Miguel impatiently snapped.

‘Yes, I do. Damn it-- He told me! About Dana!’ you blurted.

A brief silence fell as Miguel’s hands went still. Up until this point he’d been typing, casually micro-tasking while you argued at his back, but now he was totally focused on you.

‘He did?’ Miguel repeated back. He sounded shocked, confused, perhaps even impressed?

‘Yes. He- it sounded, horrible. That poor man.’

‘That poor man’ Miguel sneered, his shock quickly turning back to disgust. ‘You didn’t see what I saw. And that’s not your fault, but I’m telling you now, I saw it. The blood on his hands, the blood on his fur, the—face, of—’

Miguel paused and shook his head. ‘He may not have intended to hurt her, but he did. He couldn’t de-escalate, couldn’t control his own strength. He could have ripped the gun out of her hands, or pointed it upwards. His panic killed her.’

‘He was- he was scared, Miguel!’ you argued. ‘He’d just undergone a painful attempt on his life, he was turned into something new, something scary, and then his life was threatened again by someone who was meant to love him!’

‘Yeah, and you know what? I want through the same exact thing’ Miguel spat. ‘I didn’t kill anyo-- … I didn’t, kill, Dana, Did I?’

Internally you were seething. Part of you wanted to just rip into him for what he’d said, for so cruelly bullying Mig for something that wasn’t his fault while making overt passes at you in the same sentence, but you held your tongue.

At least now you didn’t feel at all bad for what you were about to do.

‘I want to- make a proposal’ you said, your voice echoing through the office.

Miguel blinked. His brows went up, slowly, as his eyes darted across your face. He looked surprised. ‘You do, do you?’

You stiffened your resolve as his shadow covered your body. Before you’d have never thought of standing up to your boss like this, and yet, here you were.

‘Yes. I want you to retract the clause that Mig remain isolated from other spiders and people. He’s not a threat and you know that. He deserves the chance to reintegrate, to see that he’s safe to be around other people and to connect with people like him who won’t be afraid. I want you to let him into the society.’

Miguel grunted, his nose wrinkling with disgust. ‘No’ he barked, and immediately he turned.

He thought that would be the end of it, the stubborn fool, but you weren’t interested in begging for permission. If he wanted to play dirty, you would too.

‘Fine’ you said sharply, ‘fine. Let me guess, his genes make him too dangerous?’

‘Wow, newbie, that’s a great point. You’re right. I’ll keep that on record next time someone brings up the idea of letting him join’ Miguel sarcastically drawled. You sneered.

‘Okay. Well, if he has to stay away because his genes make him dangerous, genes that you SHARE, may I remind you, then I suggest for the safety of the society we make it public knowledge.’

You saw Miguel freeze up. He was clearly frightened, as his back muscles popped to indicate he was tensing them tightly, and his biceps were clearly getting more prominent as he clenched his fists.  

You had to steel yourself to approach that terrifying visage.

‘What are you talking about?’ he hissed over his shoulder.

‘You know what I’m talking about’ you said, getting closer with each word. ‘You know that you go into ruts, the same as he does. You know that for all the pressure you put on him to stay away from people, you happily engage in that exact behaviour.’

‘What are you talking about?’ Miguel repeated, this time in a far gravellier voice.

‘I know, you sanctimonious asshole, that you’ve also been sleeping with people during your ruts!’ you whisper shouted, your voice slipping through gritted teeth.

Miguel immediately scoffed, trying to play it off. ‘You don’t have proof of that. I didn’t sleep with you.’

‘No, not- me, Miguel, I have proof. I have proof you’ve done this before.’

‘Oh, do you?’ he asked in that same sarcastic, defensive tone.

‘You decided to threaten me with my own medical records, so clearly that’s allowed, right? So, I can bring up that there are definitely files within the society bay detailing god knows how many other members or workers, filled with the same genetic material, covered in webbing?’

The moment you said ‘webbing’ he tensed up. You’d got him.

‘Perhaps a few, anti-venom prescriptions? Emergency birth control?’

He tensed up further, his head going forward as his shoulders rolled. You continued to push.

‘I don’t think the wider society would be too kind if they knew their boss was going into little, horny breakdowns, and then secretly taking out his frustrations on its members—’

At that Miguel spun around, his clawed hand slamming itself into the desk at your back. In barely a second you went from standing to trapped, your back bent against the desk with his enormous arms on either side of your torso.

‘Do you think you’re better than me?!’ he spat, his fangs dangerously close to your face.

‘Do you think you’re better than me, huh?’

You felt all of your previous convictions slip in his presence. God he was terrifying. He wasn’t nearly as big as Mig but he was huge compared to you, easily pinning your body to the desk. You felt the cold metal press into your spine as he bent you back, and your eyes instinctively drifted to his fangs.

You swallowed, hard, and were met with the strangest look in his eyes. He seemed ashamed, almost, as he realized you were scared of him, and yet there was something else there. Something more complicated.

You struggled to claw back a semblance of your previous anger.

‘You know what? No. Not in that sense. But that’s my point. We’re the same, you’re just a—’

‘Don’t say it’ he hissed.

‘Hypocrite’ you spat back in his face. With a frustrated grunt he pulled away.

‘I don’t put anyone at risk of spreading my genes!’ he said, his voice rising with his annoyance. ‘And I don’t touch anyone who I could hurt!’

‘How can you know that?’

‘Because they’re all men!’ Miguel blurted. He had to pause to breathe, his hands now gripped tight to his hips. ‘Or- at the very least they’ve had their reproductive organs taken care of. And they’re my friends, I never- I never approach anyone I don’t know and trust. I just… sometimes, I have to—have, something. Just one. But I’ve never- slipped and, indulged in anyone the way your sweet, innocent Mig has.’

‘You- but you JUST said you would have helped me out too’ you argued back. Miguel scoffed again.

‘I didn’t mean sex. I would have- offered something, for relief, because I know how much it hurts. I can control myself, but I’d rather not smell someone else going through the same agony, that’s all.’

‘Look, my— my point is, you do the same thing you accused Mig of doing. You don’t get to keep him out of the society if you’re allowed to be its head’ you said, trying to bring the subject back around.

‘He killed someone’ Miguel hissed.

‘And you exonerated him, because he was acting in self defence!’ you spat. This time your rage drove you forward, and you slammed your hand down on the desk beside Miguel, caging his tiny waist between your arms.

‘We are dangerous’ Miguel said, his voice even colder than usual. ‘We are not, safe. We are not supposed to be in relationships. I tried to tell you this, but if you won’t listen, I can’t help you.’

‘Oh, I’m the one who needs help?’

To your horror, Miguel suddenly let out a deeply sardonic chuckle. He bent so that his lips brushed your ear, and you froze as he spoke.

‘You fucked a spider’ he whispered slowly. ‘You found a version of your boss, who was half arachnid, and you let it fuck you. Furry legs and all. You nearly let it impregnate you. Yes, you need help.’

‘He.’

Miguel’s eyes darted, barely an inch from yours. You met them. You were shaking, yes, but you still stared him down.

‘He. Not it. I let him, fuck me’ you repeated.

You relished, secretly, in the deep resentment that crossed Miguel’s face. He looked jealous.

‘Why… Why, him?’

You blinked, taken aback by Miguel’s veiled question. You were expecting more vitriol, but instead his face sank as he pulled away from you.

‘What do you mean, why him?’ you asked.

‘You were in heat. I smelled it. You should have been drawn to my scent, but you turned and you ran. You ran back to him.’

You decided to let Miguel hang there for a moment, just to ponder how you should approach this.

‘If you ask that question honestly, I’ll answer’ you said slowly.

Miguel stiffened his jaw and stepped forward again. He was too curious to not take the bait. ‘Why? Why would you pick him over me?’

There it was. The most overt thing he’d ever admit. It wasn’t even really about you, was it? It was about his ego. It was about the fact that in that moment, when he’d grabbed you after your hospital trip, you’d been able to turn him down. You’d stayed loyal to Mig, and not just given in to your animal need so Miguel could satisfy himself with your body.

You could have given him a full lecture on why. His coldness, his mean streak, his little bursts of empathy that were never enough compared to Mig’s constant kindness. The way Mig gave you multiple chances to leave while Miguel grabbed you by the wrist, the way Mig praised you and thanked you and wished to acknowledge your relationship openly without shame while Miguel offered only a shameful coupling he would sooner forget.

You could have said so much. In the end, though, you just shrugged. ‘He’s hotter than you’ you said.

Silence filled Miguel’s office. At first his face was unreadable, but slowly, a smile crept onto his lips. It was an unnerving smile, the ghost of something cruel and cold.

‘Oh. Okay. Okay.’

You took a step back as Miguel turned back to his desk. The orange glow was eerie around the contours of his figure, highlighting his terrifying back muscles one by one as he rolled them.

‘Alright. You can have him here. And I won’t keep people off your back anymore. If you want to know, why I keep what I do quiet, why I keep my partners quiet, you can find out your way.’

You snorted. ‘Deal. Done. That’s all I needed from you.’

You left him there, alone on the desk, and you hurried back to the wider HQ, unaware of the new war you’d started for yourself. Link to next part!

[crazylittlejester]

I have a fantastic idea: an Impa Meets AU. If I had the time to do this, I would. But, I am going to shake my idea around in your face because I want to. Somewhat incoherently might I add

So, why would they meet? Some cataclysmic event spanning the timelines wouldn’t necessarily call for any Impa’s help, not on their own anyways.

Here’s where AoC Impa comes in. I haven’t played the game(just the demo a few years ago), but I’ve gathered that her personality is a bit more similar to Lana than to other Impas. I’d wager that after the Calamity was over, she would feel just a bit lost on what to do next. She just so happens to ponder out loud about what her ancestors would’ve done in her shoes with Purah nearby. She instantly gets an amazing idea to use the newly repaired Terrako’s help to see (and maybe even visit 👀) other times in Hyrule.

Since Hyrule Warriors Link’s outfit is something AoC Link can wear in the game, he is likely at least somewhat well known in that time. So that could be the first time the AoC crew visit. This can also just lead to an AoCxHW crossover, but it’s Impa time. So let’s have her get stranded in that time due to ✨hijinks✨

She curses out Terrako’s name in both annoyance and fear. Cause like, she has no idea how to get back to her own time now. Cue HW Impa strolling in and looking at the tantrum-having Sheikah in front of her.

AoC Impa is ecstatic at actually meeting one of her ancestors. But she does also want to go home like, right this instant. So HW Impa helps her out by first trying to figure out where Lana is. From now on I’m referring to AoC Impa as Youngin and HW Impa as Commander.

Youngin gets to meet all of the HW cast, learning about in detail what had happened during that game’s events. She especially stick close to Commader, begging her for advice to share. Commander feels like she’s going to explode the whole time, but tries to answer Youngin’s questions as best as she can. Then, they eventually meet up with Lana(and also Cia I guess idk). Lana offers to help bring Youngin back to her time, but she is now inspired and invigorated. She wants to visit all the other times and other Impas, gaining their wisdom to help out everyone in her own time, to get her Hyrule back on it’s feet as soon as possible and to make it greater than every before! Lana loves her enthusiasm, Commander does not. She acknowledges Youngin’s courage and power, but doesn’t think it’s wise to just send her off to other times on her own.

So now Commander is joining Youngin on her time traveling adventure! Lana makes it so that they’ll be able to freely travel to different set times along the timeline, with magical pocket watches for the both of them. Plus a couple extra, just in case other Impas want to join in on the fun.

The adventure begins! No real stakes, just a fun time. We need more of those imo. Anyways, they would travel to different time and Youngin would be constantly jotting down notes about the places they go to, while Commander has to make sure she doesn’t accidentally fall off of a cliff. A few other Impas would join them, but it’s mostly focused on these two. The most important times they would visit would be the Spirit Tracks and Wind Waker times, which would give Youngin some great ideas on how to help out her kingdom.

Then, nearing the end of the adventure, all the Impas would go back to their own times. Youngin would bring Commander along to her own time, having her meet all of her friends. Commander asks for them to please not time travel, the timeline is already messed up enough lamo. But then they would go see the BoTW time, just to see what had happened, and to thank the Champions for all their help. Then, Youngin would go back to her own time again, waving Commander off as she goes back to her own time. And now, Youngin is determined to make her Hyrule the best version of it that she can make it, with the help of ALL of her friends.

That’s like, the baseline, the gist of it. Hope you enjoyed my little idea, and I hope you have a great rest of your day!

I’m sorry but the idea that the Links (arguably the silliest little guys alive) have to deal with the Big Bad while the Impas (arguably some of the smartest women to ever exist) get to be silly and just kinda do shenanigans is SO funny and oh my god I love this SO much. This is absolutely incredible, what a fantastic idea, I’m obsessed /gen

[writeforfandoms]

Shatter Me 10

Find the series masterlist

Finally, more of Ahsoka! I kind of adore her. Remember, Mech has been through some heavy shit, and she hasn't processed a lot of it. Also, this is a gentle reminder that although she calls Peli sister, it is not necessarily a biological relation. I actually picture Mech as not being a blood sibling.

Warnings: Grief, mention of past harm, real talk about trauma (in no detail), brief crying jag, Grogu being cute.

Word count: 2.6k

The sky was slowly darkening as you and Mando waited for the child and Ahsoka to finish speaking. You sat on a tree stump, watching Ahsoka's expressions change as they talked. 

At least. It looked like they were communicating, somehow. Even though you never saw Ahsoka's lips move. But the child was clearly reacting to her, ears moving, hands waving around sometimes. 

And Mando was every inch the worried parent, stalking back and forth across a small stretch of ground, helmet constantly focused on the two and their little circle of light. He took a few steps, paused, and then turned and went back, repeating the cycle. But the set of his shoulders wasn't tense, wasn't angry. 

That relaxed you more than it should have. 

"My dad taught me how to fix speeders." 

Mando stopped and looked over at you, and you went warm with embarrassment. But you forged on. 

"Both of us, you know. He was good. Taught us mechanic's power words, too." You smiled, digging the toe of your boot into the dirt and dragging it around. "We just had to promise not to use them around our mom. I remember the one time Peli forgot that." You grinned, unable to hold back a little laugh at the memory. "Peli complained for a week that everything tasted like sonic cleaner." 

There was a soft laugh from under the helmet, and Mando drifted a step closer to you. "So you followed your father's footsteps."

"I was good at it. I mean, I am good at it." You shrugged. "I can do numbers alright when I need to, but not enough to run a business or anything. Peli got that hanger and I helped her for a while, until…" you trailed off, lifting your gaze to Ahsoka. She smiled gently at something, dipping her head just a little. "Well, until things changed, I suppose." You hopped off the tree stump, ashamed of your unasked for outburst now, and shook out your hands. "I'm sorry, that was–" 

"Don't." The word was quiet but forceful, and you froze. "Don't apologize. Not for that." 

You relaxed again, smiling a little down at your feet. He was kinder than you could have ever guessed. Gruff, yes, but kind. 

Both of you snapped to attention as Ahsoka stood, picking up the light and the child both before walking over towards you. Mando moved first, walking towards them. He was tense again, but more worried than anything. Ahsoka set the child down and then sat herself. You snuck over, taking a seat a little out of the way, listening to the child make an odd noise, almost like a rumble. 

"Is he speaking?" Mando asked. "Do you… understand him?" 

"In a way. Grogu and I can feel each others' thoughts." 

Grogu? You blinked, lips parting in surprise. 

"Grogu?" Mando asked, confused even through the modulator. 

The child immediately looked up at him, blinking huge eyes, ears wiggling just a little. 

"Yes," Ahsoka confirmed, calm and collected. As if this were normal for her. "That's his name." 

Mando shifted his weight, leaning ever so slightly closer to the child. "Grogu."

Again, the child immediately looked up at him with a wordless noise of acknowledgement. 

"He was raised at the Jedi temple at Coruscant," Ahsoka said, looking down at her lantern. "Many Masters trained him over the years. At the end of the Clone Wars, when the Empire rose to power, he was hidden. Someone took him from the temple." Ahsoka looked up as Mando sat, focused entirely on Ahsoka. 

Not that you were any better. Your heart was aching for the child, for Grogu. 

"Then his memory becomes… dark. He seemed lost. Alone." Ahsoka paused, letting that sink in. "I've only known one other being like this. A wise Jedi Master named Yoda." Grogu chirped and grunted at her, and Ahsoka smiled. The serenity and joy in that smile struck you, made you swallow hard. Then she turned her gaze to Mando again. "Can he still wield the Force?" 

"You mean his powers?" 

"The Force is what gives him his powers," Ahsoka explained patiently. "It is an energy field created by all living things. To wield it takes a great deal of training. And discipline." 

Training the kid–Grogu–had received at the Jedi Temple. You wondered how much of it he remembered. How much he still knew. 

"I've seen him do things I can't explain," Mando told her, a little halting. But there was no fear in his voice. "My task was to bring him to a Jedi."

Ahsoka looked down, away from him. "The Jedi Order fell a long time ago."

"So did the Empire, yet it still hunts him. He needs your help." 

There was a long silence, and Ahsoka sighed. Grogu hummed and murmured at her, eyes closed. 

"Let him sleep," Ahsoka decided finally. "I'll test him in the morning." 

Mando nodded and stood, picking up Grogu carefully. Then he paused and looked at you. 

"I'll be right there," you told him, nodding once. "Not tired yet." Your smile was weak but you tried. That had to count for something. 

Mando nodded and strode away to find a good place to hunker down for the night, pulse rifle in one hand and Grogu cradled in the other. 

"How long have you been traveling with them?" Ahsoka asked you gently. 

You turned back to her to find her already watching you. "Oh, not that long," you murmured, looking down at your fingers, twisting around each other in your lap. 

She nodded once and looked at the lantern again, letting the quiet settle over the two of you. But it wasn't… uncomfortable. Actually, it felt restful, almost relaxing. You closed your eyes briefly, drawing in a deep breath. 

"Can I… ask you something?" You glanced shyly at Ahsoka, chewing on your lips. 

"You can." She smiled at you, soft and encouraging. 

"How are you so… calm? About all of this." You waved a vague hand in the direction of Mando and Grogu. 

Her smile widened. "Practice," she answered easily. "Meditation." 

You blinked at her, head tilting a little to one side. "Really?"

She nodded. "I find that meditation helps to calm and center my mind," she agreed, shifting her weight and turning slightly to face you. "It can be a useful tool." 

You nodded slowly, mulling over her words. "Is it hard?"

A slow shift of her shoulders that might have been a shrug. "It can be. Some find it more difficult than others." She met your gaze, holding you still and quiet for several moments. "Would you like to learn?"

You frowned and shrugged. "I don't know." You looked away for a moment, chewing the corner of your lips, and then forced yourself to look back at her. "I just envy your calm. I wish I was… more like that." 

She breathed slowly, letting your words sink in. It wasn't as hard as you had feared, admitting that. Something about her manner just put you at ease, despite how vicious she could clearly be, when the occasion called for it. "It is not an easy path," she warned you. "The kind of calm you're looking for requires accepting what has already happened." Far too knowing eyes held yours. 

You blinked, tears welling up, and you sucked in a sharp breath. "Oh." 

She turned the rest of the way towards you, still relaxed and open. "Give yourself time," she murmured. "Be gentle with yourself. You're still recovering." 

"Are you… reading my mind?" You blinked at her again, swallowing hard against the lump attempting to lodge itself in your throat. 

"No." She smiled at you, moving one hand from under her poncho to reach out, palm up. An offering. One you took slowly, placing your hand in hers. "I wouldn't do that without permission, not when I can help it. But I've met many people in this galaxy. There is a certain… look. Feel. To people who have survived horrific things." 

You closed your eyes, feeling the first tear escape to slide hot down your cheek. "I didn't… there are so many that have had worse," you whispered, fighting to keep your voice even. "I'm here, I got away. I have a job." 

"The suffering of others does not negate your own," Ahsoka said softly, fingers strong around your hand. "You are allowed to grieve for yourself." 

You gasped in a breath and hunched over yourself, free hand over your mouth to muffle yourself, eyes tightly shut. Ahsoka held tight to your hand and didn't let go the entire time you sat there, curled around your aching heart. 

Finally, your breathing slowed and you straightened. You wiped your face with the hem of your top, beyond caring. "I'm sorry," you started, looking at her. 

But Ahsoka shook her head, smile faint but kind, old pain in her eyes. "There is no need to apologize," she assured you. "You needed that." 

A croaky laugh surprised you, and you nodded your agreement. "Guess I did." You squeezed her hand. "Thank you." 

She merely inclined her head, graceful and humble. "You should get some sleep," she advised. 

You nodded and let go of her hand with one final squeeze. "Sleep well." 

It wasn't hard to find Mando and the kid. Grogu was snoring, quiet but still audible. You sat down a few feet from them, breathing out a long slow sigh. 

"Are… you okay?" 

The question startled you, and you blinked at Mando. It was difficult to see, the light from the moon diffusing and growing weak through the smog in the air. You could just see the gleam of his helmet. 

"Yes," you said after a moment. "I mean, I will be. We… talked. It's okay, she didn't do anything. She just… told me something I needed to hear." You wiped at your face again, trying to get rid of any lingering tear tracks. 

Mando nodded once slowly and relaxed again, tipping his head down towards his chest. "Get some sleep," he muttered, gruff but not unkind. 

"You, too." You whispered the words carefully. But he didn't move, didn't acknowledge you. That was fine. You closed your eyes and relaxed as much as you could, wrapping your arms around yourself. 

Your sleep that night was mercifully dreamless. 

You woke to giggling and gentle hands on your cheeks. You blinked a couple times, weak morning sunlight streaming through the dead trees and smog. 

The child–Grogu–was on your lap, both hands against your cheeks, squishing them slightly as he peered up at you. 

"Good morning, little one," you whispered, lifting one hand to his back. "Did you sleep well?"

He burbled at you, patting your cheeks twice. 

"Hmm, sounds like a good night," you agreed, despite having no clue what he had said. "Are you hungry, Grogu?"

He chirped excitedly, ears wiggling, and you smiled, despite his fingers still smooshing your cheeks. 

"Okay," you agreed. "Lemme get you some food." 

Finally looking past Grogu as you fished a packet of jerky out of your pocket, you noted Mando still looked asleep. At least, he hadn't moved, helmet still tipped down, arms still crossed over his chest. 

He looked almost peaceful. 

Grogu sat down with his back against your front, eating his breakfast with enthusiasm. You chuckled softly, stroking one long ear gently. 

"Kid?" Mando sat up straight and then relaxed almost immediately. 

"He's fine," you murmured. "Just hungry."

Mando nodded, settling back against the log behind him. 

Ahsoka walked over to the two of you, as calm as the day before. She smiled slightly at you and then looked at Grogu. "It's time." 

The group of you stood, Mando carrying Grogu, and walked a ways away. The air grew a little clearer, and you could hear moving water somewhere in the distance. 

You had to imagine this planet had once been beautiful. 

Ahsoka stopped, turning to look at Mando and Grogu. "Let's see what knowledge is lurking inside that little mind." 

You moved away, content to watch. You didn't need to be involved in this. You didn't have a right to be involved in this, not really. The only reason you were still here was because Mando didn't have time to escort you back to the ship.

The test started small, although you felt your eyes go wide watching Ahsoka float a rock to Grogu. He seemed stubborn, though. Unwilling to do the same when prompted. And then unwilling to take the stone from Ahsoka. Or Mando. 

Then Mando pulled out the shiny little bauble. From the ship. You'd seen Grogu with it before, knew it was a favored toy, or something. 

But you were still surprised when the ball flew from Mando's fingers to Grogu's. 

"Good job! Good job, kid. Did you see that? I knew you could do it." Mando walked over to crouch in front of the kid, every inch a proud parent. 

Ahsoka looked less pleased. "He's formed a strong attachment to you," she observed, standing still where she was. Soft coos reached your ears, and you couldn't help but smile. "I cannot train him." 

"What?" Mando stood and turned to look at Ahsoka. "Why not? You've seen what he can do!"

"His attachment to you makes him vulnerable to his fears. His angers." 

"All the more reason to train him," Mando argued. 

"No." There was a waver to Ahsoka's voice for the first time, and she stepped closer to Mando. "I've seen what those feelings can do to a fully trained Jedi Knight. To the best of us." Ahsoka paused there, staring down Mando for a few moments before looking to Grogu. "I will not start this child down that path. Better to let his abilities fade." She turned and started to walk away. "I have delayed too long. I must get back to the village." 

"The Magistrate sent me to kill you," Mando said, loud enough for her to hear clearly. The child whined, and you couldn't resist going over to scoop him up into your arms. You stroked your fingers down the length of one long ear, though the child didn't look away from Mando. "I didn't agree to anything," Mando continued as Ahsoka turned back to look at him. "And I'll help you with your problem. If you see to it that Grogu is properly trained." 

Grogu grunted at both of them, looking between them. You swallowed, nerves settling in your gut as you held the center of attention. 

Fortunately, the standoff didn't last long. Ahsoka walked back to Mando and motioned for him to walk with her. 

You ended up behind the two, honestly not paying attention to what they were saying. 

"Well, kiddo," you murmured. "Guess you're not just good looks, huh?"

He laughed, high and sweet, and you felt yourself relax at the sound. You smiled. 

The two up ahead stopped, and you reached them in time to hear the end of a conversation. 

"...helped build the Imperial starfleet. She plundered worlds, destroying them in the process." 

"Looks like she's still in business," Mando observed, leaning against one of the dead trees. 

Ahsoka nodded and turned back to look at him, and you. "When you were in the city, did you see any prisoners?" 

You nodded, lowering your gaze. You would never forget the sight of them for as long as you lived. 

"I saw three villagers strung up just outside the inner gate," Mando confirmed. 

"We must find a way to free them," Ahsoka mused.

You smiled down at the top of the kid's head. Good. That was good. You had been planning to ask Mando again before he left, but this was even better. 

"A Mandalorian and a Jedi? They'll never see it coming." Mando straightened, rising to his full and impressive height. 

But you didn't feel frightened. Or intimidated, even. Just… safe.

[butwhyduh]

Getting tall

Summary: Damian finally hits his growth spurts and the fam have opinions. Some damijon, timkon, jaytemis, and dickori mentioned.

Damian was an adorable tiny murder baby when he first showed up at the manor. Like a feral kitten. Short end of normal growth at 10 years old and thin too, Dr Leslie found. Make sure he eats 3 square meals and snacks when he wants and he’ll be just fine. Alfred had made it his mission, as he had done for both Jason and Tim, to put weight on Damian.

The first family member he outgrew was Cass. She reached over to ruffle his hair only to reach up above her head rather than below it. She didn’t mind. 5’4 isn’t very tall. She’d just have to remember that the next time they spar. Height wasn’t an important factor to her.

It was a few months later that Damian hit a massive growth spurt and grew 4 inches. He passed by 5’6 Stephanie.

“Hey little dude. What are they puttin in your food, miracle grow?” She asked when she noted how tall he was and how big his feet had gotten. Damian was a bit like the giant puppies all gangly. Alfred was adjusting the Robin costume monthly after Damian rushed to put it on for patrol one day and every time he raised his arms he felt his stomach show. Clothes were constantly being bought that met his newest height increase. The Kents were very appreciative of the barely worn clothing Jon got as Damian went through another pair.

“I’m perfectly normal in growth,” he said pulling on the hem of his shirt that was growing shorter by the day. Stephanie eyed him but left it. Tim hated the height jokes they would make when everyone started passing him in height. Nowadays Tim just rolled his eyes and deferred all short jokes to Bart who Damian was now taller than. Bart didn’t care at all because he was short but he was also at least top 3 faster people ever so who cares right?

For a very short time, Damian was taller than Jon. He liked that. Jon thought it was pretty funny.

“D, I’m going to be taller. My dad and mom are both taller than yours. I’ll be taller in the end,” Jon said with a grin before Damian pushed him off the roof. Jon giggled and stared at Damian with obvious heart eyes. The kid was definitely smitten.

Tim was half an inch taller. He didn’t acknowledge it in any way. But it wasn’t surprising. His mother was tiny, his father lower end of average, and Tim probably skipped too many meals with working during an important growth phase while he was becoming Robin. 5’8.5 is a perfectly normal height for a man. He had an easier time with stealth.

Bruce watched as his son grew more handsome and taller everyday. He recognized things he hadn’t taken the time to see with Dick or Jason and had missed completely with Tim. Aftershave, cologne, and deodorant budget went up exponentially and Damian was barred from bringing any of his shoes in the house and his Robin uniform had to double washed occasionally. He spent far longer in the bathroom doing his hair and agonizing over any spot on his face.

Bruce even once caught Damian do the lean on the doorframe while talking to someone they like when Jon visited once. He had to give the worst birds and bees talk of all time. Bruce also noted how Damian had Talia’s nose and his lip curled the same way hers did when he smiled. He stretched when walking to the breakfast table the same way Dick did.

Damian didn’t get another true growth spurt for 2 years. There was plenty of jokes that he jumped up to his height and didn’t move again. Jon was once again taller than Damian. Alfred was ready this time with the massive amount of food the 15 year old could put away and panels in his costume for easier adjustments.

Talia smiled proudly at her son as he grew taller than her. He was turning out handsome like his father but kept her feature and in her mind, that was the perfect combo. She never told Damian because she didn’t him to grow arrogant.

Dick didn’t notice it right away. He was so busy with Bludhaven and the Titans that he didn’t notice Damian had gotten a full inch taller than him. He only realized when him and Damian practiced a complex move that required a taller and shorter partner while training. They paired up as they always did and the maneuver completely fell apart. Dick was mentally putting together why it failed when Damian walked over and it clicked. Little D was not so little anymore.

“You’re taller than me,” he said brightly. Damian immediately grinned.

“So now you’re little D,” Damian said back. Dick laughed at that one.

“Don’t let it go to your head. I can throw you around like a tilt-a-whirl,” Dick warned. Of course, that’s exactly what happened the next time they sparred when Damian tried to use his height advantage.

“I can beat Jason so don’t think you can beat me just by being bigger,” Dick said standing over Damian who rolled his eyes.

Dick had no problem with Damian getting taller. It was his own height he had a complicated relationship with. See, Dick grew up as an acrobat. Being tall is a disadvantage. More weight to swing, more body to move. And his father had told him growing up that almost every Grayson man has been 5’8. It’s a legacy as strong as flying above the circus crowd.

And so when at 15, Dick was very distraught with the fact that he hadn’t stopped growing at 5’8. It felt like a part of his history and family legacy had died. He wasn’t one of the 5’8 Grayson men. He never told anyone beside Kori, late at night where she told him she loved him tall or small. She had already far outpaced Dick and was on her way to being 6’4.

Duke and Alfred and Damian were the same height for a short while. Duke would joke that he could just wear the Robin’s costume since they were the same size. Damian would threaten to disembowel him if he touched it and that made Duke laugh even more.

When he grew taller Duke once again joked with Damian calling him a not so jolly green giant and Alfred considered his nutrition attempt a complete success. Damian went from a tiny kid to a tall strong young man.

Damian and Jon were practically the same size for a while. Jon barely bent his neck to rest his chin on Damian’s shoulder as his partner worked on a complex mechanical part. Then Jon hit another growth spurt to end in his final height of 6’2, same as Bruce and his father. Damian enjoyed having a taller boyfriend for a while but would never say anything. High school dances were nice.

Bruce could see Damian getting taller and stronger and was practically grown. Dr Leslie warned Bruce that growth could continue until Damian was in his early 20s and he could end up a quite tall young man or stop tomorrow.

Jason liked being the tallest and biggest in the family. He had an entire inch in height on Bruce and was at least 20 lbs heavier. He was built like tank. When Jason had died at 15, he was terrifyingly thin. Alfred had tried his best but Jason had suffered malnutrition and hunger from practically birth. He was short and thin and Dr Leslie had told Bruce he probably always would be. And so when Jason came back to life a giant 6’3 and over 200 lbs, it was a shock. It took him forever to accept his size as anything more than an amour to create fear in his enemies. The first time he had accidentally scared a woman walking in the street at night, Jason had hated that he was so big. But within his family, it had become a source of pride. He was certainly taller than Dick and Alfred and even Bruce.

So when he visited Cass’s birthday party and Jason stood next to Damian and realized that the kid was taller than him, he was a little shocked. Damian had reached his final height of 6’4.

“When the hell did you get so big?” Jason asked while cake was being served. Dick nosed in the conversation.

“Little D is taller than you now,” he said with a teasing grin at Jason.

“And yet you insist on calling me Little D,” Damian said with an eye roll.

“I call him Big D,” Jon said with a smile. Dick blanched and Jason coughed out an awkward laugh.

“Good for you, bro,” he said patting Damian on the back. Jon blushed at the sudden understanding.

“No! I mean- he’s taller than me. I didn’t mean- uh,” Jon stuttered. Damian grabbed him by the shoulder and dragged him away from his brothers who were laughing.

“It’s weird you know,” Jason admitted, scratching the back of his neck.

“The fact that he is dating Jon?”

“No, they’ve been together forever. That he’s taller than me,” Jason said.

“Are you- does it bother you that you aren’t the tallest?” Dick asked with a gleeful smile.

“No,” Jason said abruptly.

“It could be like how I learned my little brother was bigger than me,” Dick teased. “All of a sudden you were just massive. My tiny little brother was this big dude. Good thing I’m comfortable with my masculinity.”

“Your girlfriend is like 6 inches taller than you. If that isn’t emasculating then there’s nothing I could do,” Jason answered.

“Yeah, she’s always been taller than me,” Dick said with a fond smile. “You can’t talk with the Amazon you’ve been hanging with.” He pushed Jason’s shoulder with a grin.

“We’re just friends-I guess,” Jason said uncomfortable. “That’s not the same-“

“Well at least Tim will always be our little brother,” Dick changed the subject but mentally noted Jason’s reaction to the mention of Artemis.

“Yeah, he’ll always be a shrimp,” Jason agreed.

“Honestly fuck you both,” Tim said from across the room. With Kon standing next to him he certainly looked tiny.

“Hey, it’s my birthday and I am the shortest and I can still kick all of your butts,” Cassandra reminded them both and they laughed but neither corrected her because they knew she was right.

[robininthelabyrinth]

Prompt: Wei Wuxian has achieved time travel! He's gonna fix so many broken things. Unfortunately, WWX has miscalculated a teensy tiny variable and instead of arriving in his original 15yo body in Lotus Pier, he's crash landed in MXY's tiny 7~8yo body at Mo Manor. But no problem, he can fix this if he can just find his real body. (Meanwhile, Yunmeng Jiang's head disciple is acting the wrong kind of childish, aka, Mo Xuanyu is having the weirdest day of his young life.)

Switcheroo - ao3

Mo Xuanyu thought that this Wei Wuxian person whose body he’d stolen must have been a really interesting person, mostly because he’d been here for three days so far and nobody’d noticed the switch yet.

Possibly it had to do with the fact that Mo Xuanyu still wasn’t exactly sure how he’d stolen the body – he’d just gone to sleep in the shed, same as always, and then he’d woken up in the softest bed he’d ever encountered in his life…no, softer than even his dreams! He’d thought it over and concluded that he must have died from cold out in the shed, turned into a fierce ghost out of resentment, grown powerful (somehow), then stolen some rich young master’s body when they weren’t paying close enough attention and, once he’d possessed the body, promptly lost all his memory of being a ghost.

It seemed like the only logical course of events.

He was very sorry about it, though. Wei Wuxian seemed like a nice, if very unusual person.

The first day, Mo Xuanyu had barely even noticed the body-switch, being quite so enamored of the soft bed he was in – he’d refused to get out of bed at all, declaring that he was going to lie in and sleep for a century or more, and the people who’d come to the door to get him didn’t beat him or anything over it, but rather just laughed or rolled their eyes and then left him to it. Luckily, at the time, he’d just assumed he was dead or something and proceeded to ignore everything in favor of napping.

He only acknowledged that he was alive later in the afternoon, when his stomach started growling – it seemed like a very unlikely thing for a dead man’s stomach to do.

Mo Xuanyu had by that point figured out that he wasn’t himself anymore, which was fine since he didn’t much like himself; he’d also figured out, through looking himself over, that he was old now. At least fifteen or sixteen, which was twice the age he last remembered himself being. That was fine, too, though: being older meant that he was stronger and faster and would be better able to handle it when people wanted to beat him or something. Most importantly, though, it meant he was old enough to enter the kitchen on his own!

Mo Xuanyu already knew that he wasn’t allowed to eat at the main table, being only the bastard son of the younger daughter, and the cook back at home was a fierce woman who didn’t allow anyone under the age of ten into her kitchen; as a result, he had to wait for his mother to bring him back some food, and it was always cold and not quite enough. Now, though, since he was older, he figured he might as well try to go to the kitchen and fill his belly that way.

Luckily, while his current body’s house was much bigger than the Mo house, all houses were generally built along the same lines, so it wasn’t hard to find the kitchen. Everyone there laughed when he showed up, even though he’d tried to be very quiet and sneak in and then screwed it up by tripping over his own feet – it seemed like everyone thought he was doing it on purpose to be funny – and then the cooks gave him a meal of his own that was hot and fresh and wonderful.

He'd wolfed it down.

“Honestly, Wei Wuxian, you eat like a hungry ghost, you’d think the Jiang clan starves you,” one of them scolded him, but with a smile, and from that Mo Xuanyu learned that the rich young master was called Wei Wuxian and that he lived with the Jiang clan. The different surnames confused him a little, but he didn’t dare ask any questions about it, so he just stuffed his mouth and pretended that was the reason he couldn’t answer.

No one questioned it.

No one questioned it when he went wandering all around instead of doing whatever chores or duties he’d been assigned, either. Someone had actually seen him hovering by a door and asked him to bring back a pheasant when he returned, so out of lack of better options he’d headed outside to try to go find one.

He had a pretty good time walking around the forest, then remembered what he’d been asked and chased the pheasants for a while, without success . Fortunately, he then got lucky and stumbled over an old snare that had three pheasants caught inside, so he’d picked up the whole box and carted it back home.

“Three,” one of the boys in purple-blue marveled as he saw Mo Xuanyu walking towards the kitchen. “You know, people say that the birds around the Lotus Pier have gotten too smart to be caught easily, but look at our da-shixiong; he makes it look easy!”

From this, Mo Xuanyu could figure out that Wei Wuxian was (apparently!) part of a cultivator clan, apparently located at a place called the Lotus Pier, and that he was the oldest or at least head disciple, to boot. He knew all about cultivator clans from his mother, since apparently his father had been a sect leader, and that meant he knew enough to call the other boy ‘shidi’ as he passed, making the other boy beam happily.

It also meant that when he chanced a guess and called the young woman in a pretty pink dress who waved at him ‘shijie’, she smiled and nodded, which meant to him that he’d done the right thing.

“I heard you slept even more of the morning away than usual,” she told him, but didn’t seem too upset about it. “I bet that means you’ll be skipping dinner and staying up all night, hmm?”

Mo Xuanyu had no intention of skipping dinner if it was anything like what the kitchens had given him earlier, actually, but while he was still trying to figure out a way to say that, she said, leaning in close to whisper, “It’s probably a good idea, anyway – Mother and Father are fighting again. Just go to the kitchens to grab something…I promise I’ll make it up to you with some soup tomorrow, pork ribs and lotus roots, your favorite. All right?”

“Shijie, you’re the best,” Mo Xuanyu said effusively, willing to die for her at once, and she laughed and tousled his hair.

“I am,” she said, looking happy. “And if my little A-Xian stays good and obedient, I may even feed him.”

She did, too, the next day when he finally tore himself out of the beautiful wonderful soft bed and went to go find her. She’d made him soup, just as he’d promised, and laughed and laughed for some reason: apparently, she interpreted him being quiet and not talking too much as his efforts to be ‘good and obedient’, which was apparently so out of the ordinary as to be a deliberate joke.

From this, Mo Xuanyu concluded that the young master he’d possessed, Wei Wuxian, was a jackass.

Well, perhaps that was a bit harsh. Arrogant and self-centered, talented and brave and probably brilliant, definitely charming and maybe even kind, but also spoiled and inclined to step on other people to get where he wanted to go, if Mo Xuanyu had to guess – why else would everyone constantly react as if him not being obnoxious was the world’s biggest stunt?

No one seemed to expect anything of him at all: he didn’t do any chores, and no one batted an eyelid; he didn’t go where he was told, and everyone just sighed…at one point the sect leader himself came and patted him on the head, scolding him in a joking tone that he hadn’t seen him leading any of the training the way he was supposed to – but when Mo Xuanyu quailed, he’d burst out laughing, telling ‘Wei Wuxian’ to stop pretending to be a scared little rabbit, that it was fine if he’d gotten distracted by some clever new invention or whatever, that someone else would handle it, that he should take as long as he needed.

Mo Xuanyu had pasted a great big smile on his face through force of effort and agreed cheerfully.

The sect leader had accepted it.

Probably a jackass, but clearly a beloved one, Mo Xuanyu thought to himself as he packed up clothing and a few small treasures that no one would miss, a little wistful. The scare of the whole encounter had put things in perspective – he wasn’t going to be able to keep up this sort of façade for long. In fact, he was shocked he’d managed it so long already; surely, no matter how many pranks this Wei Wuxian played, no matter how childishly he behaved, surely someone should’ve noticed that he was actually an eight-year-old masquerading as a sixteen-year-old?

Mo Xuanyu couldn’t decide whether it was sad that no one paid too much attention or something that this Wei Wuxian fellow had brought down on his own head by being so consistently annoying.

Either way, there was nothing for it – he was going to have to leave.

Now that part was really sad: he’d never in his life had such good food, or such a soft bed, or even so many people that just seemed plain old happy to see him as since he’d arrived in this place. But he wasn’t the one all those things were for; he was just a sad ghost possessing a person, and if he stayed, the cultivators would eventually figure out something was wrong and exorcise him.

Probably violently.

Mo Xuanyu probably deserved it, too, but despite that he wasn’t willing.

So he packed up what he could and headed out.

He got all the way to the gate before a new purple-clad disciple – about his age, if he had to guess, and holding a pack like he’d just come back from a trip, with a scowl on his face – called out for Wei Wuxian.

Mo Xuanyu waved a little, hoping that that would be enough.

For the first time, it wasn’t.

The boy’s face settled into an even deeper scowl.

“Hey, what’s wrong with you?” he demanded. “Wei Wuxian! You’re acting all weird – hey! Where are you going?”

Mo Xuanyu was running away, obviously. He wasn’t about to get tied up and exorcised, no thank you.

He didn’t think he’d make it, but it was still worth trying.

Sure enough, the purple-clad boy who was probably called Jiang Cheng, based on what everyone was calling out as they ran by, got tired of running and jumped on his sword, and there was no way Mo Xuanyu would be able to outrun a sword, not even if he tried as fast as he –

Someone picked him up.

It wasn’t Jiang Cheng.

Mo Xuanyu turned his head and stared.

It must be some sort of yao, he thought. Humans were definitely not that pretty.

“Lan Wangji!” Jiang Cheng howled. “What are you even doing in the Lotus Pier?! Put my shixiong down!”

The rescuer, Lan Wangji, frowned a little at Mo Xuanyu.

Mo Xuanyu didn’t know exactly what expression he ought to be making in return, and was a bit too dazed to even dare to guess. He’d just noticed that they were flying – flying! on a sword! – and he was clutching onto this Lan Wangji’s shoulders for dear life.

“You are not Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji said. His voice sounded very definitive.

“Uh,” Mo Xuanyu said. “Sorry? Please don’t drop me.”

“I will not. What is your name?”

“Mo Xuanyu,” Mo Xuanyu admitted, and Lan Wangji’s eyes widened as if that meant something to him – except it couldn’t, of course, because Mo Xuanyu was sure he’d never met anyone even remotely like this Lan Wangji fellow in his life. “I don’t remember taking his body. I’m sorry. Can you not exorcise me? I don’t want to die.”

Lan Wangji was silent for a long moment.

He was still flying very fast, and Jiang Cheng was still following, shouting out curses and demands that he stop, not that Lan Wangji was listening.

“There will be no exorcism,” he finally said, and Mo Xuanyu exhaled in relief. “We will, however, fix this.”

“…we?”

“Wei Ying and myself.”

Mo Xuanyu nodded. That sounded more likely than anyone relying on his participation.

“Where are we going?” he asked. Jiang Cheng was falling further and further behind.

“Mo Village.”

Mo Xuanyu tensed up at once.

“You will not be left there,” Lan Wangji clarified, and – how did he know that Mo Xuanyu didn’t want to be left there? “But we must collect Wei Ying, who I suspect is currently in your body.”

“In my…I’m still alive?”

Lan Wangji was quiet again, and then said, “Yes. And you will remain so.”

That was reassuring, mostly.

“Okay,” Mo Xuanyu said, and found that he mostly felt relieved. He’d be very happy to have his normal body back again, if possible, especially if he didn’t have to stay in Mo Village…“Wait, if I don’t have to stay there, where will I go? I don’t have anywhere else to go, unless my father comes back for me. He's a sect leader –”

“He will not, and even if he did, you should not go with him. Once Wei Ying returns to his body, you will be able to stay at the Lotus Pier. If you do not wish to stay there, I will bring you back to the Cloud Recesses – that is my home – instead.”

“Oh,” Mo Xuanyu said, feeling bewildered. That was an awfully nice offer, even if Lan Wangji was feeling guilty about Wei Wuxian stealing his body by accident – which seemed like what had happened here rather than Mo Xuanyu being the one who did the stealing. Maybe he should go with Lan Wangji instead, he seemed much more responsible than Wei Wuxian was, rushing over to rescue him and explain things instead of throwing him into a body and leaving him all alone in a strange place. But on the other hand… “Is the Cloud Recesses…I mean…no offense, but…does it have…”

“Yes?”

“Does it have soft beds, too? And – and hot food?”

Mo Xuanyu didn’t need much, not really. He looked eagerly at Lan Wangji, who had an odd expression on his face briefly before wiping it back to neutral and nodding in confirmation.

“Okay,” Mo Xuanyu said, and curled up in Lan Wangji’s arms. “Then I’ll stay with you. You can take care of me.”

“I will,” Lan Wangji said, sounding strangely serious. “In return for the gift you last gave me – I will.”

[lixiesbakery]

Strike A Deal - H.H

Pairing: Hwang Hyunjin x F!reader

Word count: 5.6K

Genre: Halloween themed, Enemies To Lovers, Fake Dating

Note: Fic was written for a Halloween collab with @dreamescapeswriting​ and other writing, check out this link to read the other fanfics! 

After a less than desirable year, you were back home, in the comfort of your familiar bedroom. Surrounded by your things you left behind when you had left for college, you couldn’t help but feel somewhat lost, as if everything had changed and you somehow stagnated. College had dragged every last bit of energy out of you, leaving you exhausted and somewhat indifferent. Your melancholic brooding was abruptly interrupted by the load hum of engines pulling into the driveway across your street; your feet absentmindedly padding across the room to go look at the culprit. Moving the curtains aside you curiously cast a glance outside, the owner of the sleek black car that had been making the loud noises doubled down and slammed the door shut. Hwang Hyunjin. You also knew him as the boy who had caused you the most trouble when you still lived at home; unfortunately for you, your mom was good friends with his mom, thus making it nearly impossible for you to avoid him.   Despite the aforementioned fact, you two just couldn’t seem to get along no matter how much both mothers tried to keep the peace between you two. There was just something about the way Hyunjin acted around you that never failed to cause tension between the two of you, you knew he thought the exact same way about you from the way he would constantly pester you. He never passed up an opportunity to tease, mock or downright be mean to you.

  A sour look makes it way onto your face as his gaze shifts upwards, towards your window, his expression doesn’t budge as he makes eye-contact with you even going as far to raise his hand, giving you a quick wave before disappearing behind the sturdy wooden front door to his house. Throughout the years you were never able to avoid running into him, this because the two of you shared so many common friends. It was something you were willing to endure for your friends, even if it regularly tested your patience. In kindergarten he’d push you over from time to time, if he decided you seemed to be enjoying your recess time a little too much. His brown eyes tauntingly looking at you as he triumphantly stuck out his tongue at you before chasing after his friends.

  In elementary he did his best to make life as miserable for you as possible, putting bugs in your desk, taking out stuff from your backpack all while you were desperately looking for it, unaware of the amusement you were bringing him. This was also around the time you started having some bite to your words as you got back at him, annoyance now a daily emotion for you. Your life never knew peace as long as Hyunjin was there, the black-haired boy never up to any good if it involved you. You weren’t ever sure what you’d done to evoke this kind of behaviour but you weren’t particularly interested in finding out either. The brief interaction has you feeling a bit strange, it’s unlike him to even acknowledge your presence, at least it was. Upbeat ringing coming from the phone haphazardly tossed on your bed rips your attention away from the house across the street and it’s tenant. It’s Yeji. A small smile makes its way onto your face as you quickly pick up the phone, eager to hear her voice.

“Y/N!” she sounds the same as you remember, “I heard you’re back home for fall break?”

“Yeah, I am, I didn’t realize I had missed this place as much as I did” A soft chuckle leaves your lips as you let yourself fall onto the bed. 

“That’s surprising,” you can almost hear her smile through the phone, “seeing as you never really enjoyed it here before you went to college.”

“I know, it’s against my principles but here we are I guess,” 

“Say,” Yeji pauses for a moment, “are you coming to this years halloween party?”

There it is. The Hwang family traditionally held a halloween party each year; it was something that had been in their family for as long as you could remember, and you usually did go.  You just weren’t sure about it this time around. As if Yeji could sense your internal debate, she piped up;

“it’ll be fun! I promise! You’ll see Chae and Lia again!” 

“I know, i’m probably overthinking it right?”

“Yes you are! I’ll make sure my brother doesn’t bother you, promise!”

“Alright, i’ll go.” 

“Yay! Maybe you’ll see Minho again!” 

“Okay yeji! I’ll talk to you soon, bye!” you hung up a little too quick at the mention of your long-time, unrequited crush.

Lee Minho, the only reason you’d consider ever showing up to the halloween parties in the first place. He was your secret soft spot for as long as you could physically remember. Yeji had been your closest friend, the one you confided in. She was your rock in a way, something to hold onto when things got difficult and she managed to always pull you out of it, all while sporting that trademark cat-like smile of hers. She was the complete opposite of her brother, that was for sure.

  -

It’s past 11 when you pad downstairs, hands stuffed deep into the with wool lined pockets of your sweater. The dark hallway welcomes you as your eyes adjust to the dark, your parents had long gone to sleep after the busy day they’d had helping you unpack your things. The way the house creaks and settles into itself is something you can never really get used to, it’s an irrational fear of yours; but it’s such a beautiful autumn night that you can’t help but slip on your shoes and softly close the door behind you. The cold air cuts into your nose, sighing happily as you trudge through the piles of leaves adorning the sidewalk. Sorry, you think, it’s too tempting to walk through them even when they were separate piles, neatly scattered along the walkway. It’s not until you pass by the empty park, located further into your neighbourhood, that you notice someone is following you. It wasn’t unusual for people to take late night walks in the neighbourhood, it was a relatively safe one, and as far as you knew, you never ran into trouble when you still lived at home.

Sneaking a glance over your shoulder, eyes gliding over the figure a few metres removed from you, the flash of long brown hair rings a bell in your mind, but due to the weak light the street lamps produce it feels nearly impossible to make out any details. “Haven’t your parents taught you it’s not safe to go out alone at night?” The voice makes you slow down, gravel crunching under your feet as you come to the realisations of who the person is that you saw not too long ago. Suddenly you feel a lot more uncomfortable being out on your own.

“Are you talking about the fact that you’re following me then?” Your voice holds a bite to it, arms crossed across your chest as you turn to face him.  His laugh taunts you, as if this is a game to him; knowing him, it probably was.

“no, not exactly,” he drops his hood, his signature smirk now even more obvious, “since you’re adamant about avoiding me, I personally came to find you.”

You look at him, eyebrows furrowed as you examined his face, his resolve seemed to melting before your eyes as your stare burned into him. “Spit it out then, I don’t exactly have time for any of your jokes right now.”

“I need your help,” the words come out strained, as if it physically pained him to speak those words, “I know, i’m the last person you want to help, but I promise i’ll leave you alone afterwards!” his hands defensively fly up as you clear your throat.

It’s quiet for a while, the leaves rustling made even more noise than the two of you standing in the middle of an empty park. “You,” your voice is mocking, “need my help?”

“I need you to be my pretend-girlfriend,”

The words drop like a bomb, your eyes widening as they register and nestle themselves in the deepest nook of your brain. Hwang Hyunjin, your personal tormentor, wants you to pretend to be his girlfriend? You pinch your arm as an attempt to bring yourself back to reality, because this must be some sort of twisted joke your mind has produced after downing too much wine.

“You must really want me to get a restraining order against you, don’t you?”

“I know it sounds bad Y/N, but I promised my mom I wouldn’t be alone again at this years’ party, and you know I can’t possibly bring around on of my past hookups.”

Oh, that’s right, you nearly forgot. Hyunjin was notorious at your high school for having multiple, short-lived flings.

“I just want mom to stop worrying about me, alright?”

“Why would you think even for a second I would agree to this?” You weren’t going to let the opportunity pass to give him a hard-time after years of him doing the same to you.

“Because you’re in the same boat as I am every year,” his words don’t lie, but you still can’t shake the suspicious feeling that washes over you, It’s not like him to be worried about what impression you would make at the yearly halloween party organised by the Hwangs. If anything, he’d take the opportunity to make fun of you in any way he could.

“I’ll just stay with Yeji, it’s not a big deal to me.”

“Yeji isn’t going to be there,” he pauses, his hands fidgeting, “her work needed her to come in last minute.”

“She’s what?” You feel like this is one big, obnoxious and impractical joke.

“She hasn’t told you yet then?”

“No,” you sigh, your index finger and thumb press against the bridge of your nose in frustration.

“Fine,” You can’t believe you’re agreeing to this horrendous idea, and even less believe the fact that you’re teaming up with Hwang Hyunjin.

“Wait what?” he looks just a surprised as you feel, probably not having expected a success out of his attempt at striking a deal with you.

“You heard me, i’ll do it,” your voice comes out hushed because maybe if you don’t speak too loudly, it might still pass.

“alright..” he sounds hesitant himself, “then we should discuss the details tomorrow, meet me at the scoop.”

“you mean that little run down coffee and book shop?” you furrow your brows, it was a miracle the little mom and pop shop had survived in a barren, run-down town. It had been your comfort place throughout high-school; your go-to for studying, the rare dates you had and just for a good, warm cup of coffee.

“yup, is 1 pm okay for you?”

“sure, i’ll see you tomorrow then.”

And with that, you can’t get out of the park as quickly as you could. Your heart was racing, because what happened back there? It was so out of character for hyunjin that you were sure he’d given you whiplash.

-

The shop still looks the same as how you remembered it, the smell of roasted coffee beans and fresh book pages mingle in the air. It’s dimly lighted by candles and low light coming from the standing lamps next to the leather couches. The shop was divided into two sections, the counter with the barista where multiple tables were scattered over the wooden floor, a few people had occupied the seats already. The other section contained a long line of tall bookshelves filled with an array of different books. You couldn’t remember how much of them you’d actually read back then but it was once your goal to finish all of the books the shop had in its possession.

Your eyes glide over to one of the tables near a window, two steaming cups of coffee placed neatly at opposing sides of the oak surface. A jacket slung over one of the two chairs, but it’s owner wasn’t present at the table, rather you found him crouched down near one of the smaller bookshelves against the wall, hand sliding across the backs of each book, carefully pulling one out and examining it with a curious look.

It’s Hyunjin, a cream sweater hangs loosely from his shoulders; it’s then that you notice how much Hyunjin has actually changed during the year you were absent. He’s let his hair grow out, it looks like slik, shining in the dull light of the coffee shop.  His skin is pale with a rosy glow dusting his cheeks. He must have arrived not too long ago, since you held the same rosy glow due to the cold with blowing in your face. He’d be decently attractive if it weren’t for the sour personality. You huff as you shrug your coat off of your shoulders, draping it across the empty chair. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he looks up, dusting his hands off on his black jeans, rising to meet you. He’s also gotten a hell of a lot of taller you notice. Towering above you with a half-smile.

“I see you got drinks already?” you meekly speak up, gesturing towards the two matching ceramic cups.

“Oh yeah,” he takes his spot at the table, “thought it was the least I could do, you could see it as a small thank you.”

“oh, alright, thanks I guess.”

The atmosphere inside the shop is beautiful but it feels awkward to say the least, you settle on resting your hands atop of each other.

“So, hyunjin,” you shift in your seat, “ do you have any idea how we’re going to sell this idea to our friends and family? Because this has to be the least plausible relationship in history of this town.”

He lets out a low chuckle, his eyes crinkling at your comment.

“Well, I was hoping you had some ideas, because I fear mine aren’t too bright.”

“Do we have anything in common then? That would probably be the easiest to start from.”

He nods, stopping to think for a moment, “why don’t we make a list of the things we like?” he holds up a torn piece of paper that he took from one of his notepads along with two pens. An expectant look displayed upon his face as he slides one half towards you.

“Well don’t just stare, start writing princess.” You blink for a moment, taken aback by his words before you remember the agreement you two had made.

Before you know it, both of you had scribbled the paper full of your favourite things, you look up at him, “you done?”

“yeah, here,” he slides over his paper and you giggle at his handwriting, it’s still the same, messy handwriting as you remember from when you were younger. Reading through it, you slide yours over for him to read.

“Oh, hey, you went to Bang Chan’s talk too? I love his work!” you tap your finger on the scribble that- at least it looks like it – says Bang Chan.

“I did actually, it was a pain travelling to the big city though,”

“Maybe we could say we saw each other there then?” your proposal doesn’t seem half that bad as he nods.

The common factor is exactly what you two needed to start an afternoon of long conversation about the surprisingly many things you two had in common. If you were to tell yourself five years back that you were going to be sitting together with hwang hyunjin in your twenties, bonding over a pact the two of you had made and the things you two held in common, you would’ve manically laughed it off and declared yourself officially gone.

You’re not sure how you both ended up deciding to also grab a bite to eat, but here you were, hands stuffed deep into your pockets as you two walked down the trail around the lake just outside of your town; tonight the neighbouring town had organised a little festival there, with lots of food stalls and other thing to explore. It was a nice break from day-to-day life at home and it felt nice being outside again. Hyunjin had suggested it himself, which surprised you, he’d chalked it up to “bonding over some food to solidify the probability of the fake relationship seeming real”.

It wasn’t something you wanted to get used to, because if you got used to it, it might just end up in you getting hurt once more. This was strictly transactional and you forced yourself to view it as such. It felt so foreign, having the person who unrelentlessly teased and hazed you, suddenly be nice to you. You couldn’t trust if he was being honest with his intentions, for all you knew, things would go back to the way they had always been.

“Y/N?” his hand waved in front of your face, snapping you out of your thoughts in an instant.

“Huh? What?” a mumble left your lips, looking up at him in a confused manner.

“I asked you what you wanted to eat,” you don’t miss the way the corner of his lips curl up into a small smile.

“Oh, I’m fine with anything actually, there’s not something in particular that I want right now.”

He nods, nestling himself a bit deeper into his coat, blowing out a puff of air that turns into smoke as soon as it leaves his lips. His hand reaches out, into your pocket and engulfs your own. To your surprise he holds it up, intertwining his fingers with yours and pulls you forwards. “Then I know just the spot, follow me!”

After the mock date you two had, you had both exchanged phone numbers, it had taken a while but it wasn’t long before you two kept regularly texting each other with details about your day or answering questions the other had. It was surprisingly nice to have someone ask you about your day, or to be able to vent to someone about a bad day. Sometimes you two would share memories from your childhood, he would crack jokes about it while you would mostly try and get him back with embarrassing stories your mom had gotten from his mom when they would have their weekly meetups.

It crept up on you slowly and you never intended to let it affect your mood this much, but even your mother had noticed how much you had perked up over the past weeks. So much so that she even asked if anything had happened, but you feigned innocence in front of her to keep the peace as much as you could. The last thing you wanted was for things to leak out before you had even gotten the chance to prepare yourself for the idea of having it known to your friends and family that you were now – albeit fake – dating Hwang Hyunjin. The boy notorious for picking on you when you both were little. You could almost hear the words roll from their lips, that they knew this would eventually happen and that boys will be mean to you when they liked you. You huffed at the thought of those words, you’d heard them enough when you were younger and didn’t feel the need to hear them once more.

-

Halloween creeped up on you so much faster than you had anticipated, having lost track of time because you had been occupied with college assignments you had to finish up after fall break and keeping hyunjin entertained by replying to his messages. He would get pouty when you took too long to reply, which was another new thing you discovered. To keep up the illusion and to further enforce your fake relationship, the two of you hung out a couple times after the first time.

He was convincingly good at it, which made it even more difficult for you. The way he put on this caring and warm persona was something you had hoped might’ve been genuine at some point, but the more you observed, the more you became convinced you were entangled in one big web of lies. It became increasingly harder for you to even look at things positively, because the comfort and content feeling you had around him paled when you remembered just who you were in a fake relationship with. It couldn’t possibly be genuine.

The party wasn’t too far away anymore, an hour, you noted as you glanced at the clock hung above your desk. The two of you had ultimately decided on going as a matching vampire couple, it was simple and you could make do with the makeup you owned and the clothes you had hanging in your closet. Somehow, you felt nervous, even if Hyunjin had been around for so much of the dress-up halloween parties, this time it seemed different to before.

Your mom must’ve let him come inside, you heard heavy footsteps thud up the stairs leading up the the upstairs hallway. He gives your bedroom door a small push, letting it glide open. It’s quiet for a moment as the two of you look eyes. His eyes move over your body, shamelessly taking you in. You had picked out of the black, bodycon dresses that you had stowed away in your closet, mostly from the time you still used to go out to parties every weekend. Now, they served more as dress-up props.

You cleared your throat as you noticed his eyes still on you, his eyes snapped up to look you in the face, a rosy colour creeping it’s way up his neck.

“I see your bedroom still hasn’t changed since I was last here,” he takes a few steps inside, picking up a photo frame placed on your desk. You craned your neck to see which picture he was looking at.

“Old habits don’t die I guess,” you took a step closer.

The picture was taken during your 14th birthday, in the front row was you, eyes sparkling as yeji, chae and lia were lined up with you, arms wrapped around each other. In the background was Hyunjin, Minho and Jisung, the three of them forcing a laugh after your mom had forced them into frame, as a keepsake she had muttered. You had kept the photo on your desk because it had been one of your favourite photos with some of your best friends. It was still your favourite despite the sour memory that was attached to it, it happened not too long after the photo was taken.

You see hyunjin visibly swallow, because he knows, he knows exactly what happened that day. His gaze drifts towards you, seeing the mixed expression on your face.

“I’m sorry, Y/N”

“Sorry for what?” it comes out harsher than you intended for, your arms reach out, taking the frame from his hands, placing it back on it’s designated spot on your already cluttered desk.

That day, he had leaked your biggest secret at the time, one you weren’t aware he even had knowledge of. When the seven of you had gathered in your backyard at dusk, sitting around doing what 14-year olds would be doing, he had spoken up and blurted out the fact that you had a crush on Minho for years. The way your heart dropped as you realised everyone had heard what the brown-haired boy had uttered, was something you would never forget. The way Lee Minho had looked at you, pity apparent in his eyes, hurt more than words of rejection ever could. You still remember running back into the house, sobs racking through your chest. Looking back on it, it wasn’t such a big deal seeing as you and Minho are still friends to this day. But to 14-year old you it was the worst thing imaginable, having your secret laid out in front of everyone.

“I’m sorry i’ve always been such a jerk to you,” he pauses, “you really didn’t deserve any of it.”

You stay quiet for a moment, turning away from him as you rummage through your closet, trying to find the purse that matched your dress nicely.

“I mean it Y/N,” his words rip through the deafening silence in your room. You fish the bag from the depths of your closet, quickly composing yourself to look him in the eye once more.

“Sorry,” your hands tightly wrap around the strap of the bag, “i’m not used to you being so nice to me all the time.” Your smile is bittersweet. How nice things could be if he really were your boyfriend, taking care of you. How nice it would be if any of this were genuine.

“I hope you’ll let me make it up to you,” his hands fidget with the leather jacket hung over his arms “you ready?”

He glances at you again, noticing you standing up from the spot where you had sat down on your bed, noticing your dress didn’t cover much of your arms and shoulders. The dress ended mid thigh, too. Before you registered it, he drapes the leather jacket over your shoulders, “it’s cold outside.”

This earns a fanged smile from you along with a soft thank you. Seemingly satisfied with himself, he intertwined his fingers with yours, tugging you along. His hand is warm, a bit rough, but warm and comforting.

The Hwang house was decorated to the max, pumpkins scattered around the generous front yard, along with tacky decorations. You looked around as Hyunjin led you up the walkway to the front door. You both barely had time to compose yourselves as the door swung open, revealing his brightly smiling mother.

“Hyunjin!” she cooed, her eyes then moved to his right, noticing you with your hip pressed against his body, holding his hand tightly. He gives it a light squeeze as he greets his mom.

“Hi, mom!”

“Well hi, nice to see you again this year Y/N!” she ushered the two of you inside, her smile never fading, “you look as lovely as ever!”

You muster up a meek smile, “thank you,”

As she leads you inside, you notice she looks to be bursting with questions, she’d probably hound your mom for holding back the details, but much to her misfortune, your mother wouldn’t be much help in deciphering the specifics of your relationship.

“Say,” she clasps her hands together, “since when are you guys together?” she bites her lip expectantly, looking between the two of you.

Hyunjin was the first to speak up, “We met each other again at a talk of our favourite author when I visited the town she was studying in.”

“Was that why you lengthened the trip for a few more days then?” she nearly bursting out the seams, so much so that it makes you giggle a bit. She was exactly the same as your mother, so curious about everything. Hyunjin seems to lag behind a bit, so you speak up on his behalf.

“Yeah! We didn’t exactly want to tell yo uso soon, since we don’t have the best history, right?” you smiled back at his mother.

“Oh how cute!” she squeezes her clasped hands, seemingly satisfied with your answers, “Go have fun together tonight you two!”

She saunters off, her witch hat bobbing up and down her hat as she goes to mingle with the other neighbourhood adults, her eyes casting a glance towards hyunjin and you every so often. The two of you decide to find your friends, weaving through the crowd of people hanging around, his arm wraps itself around your waist, holding onto it as to not lose you in the sea of bodies. It sends shudders down your spine, feeling his fingers grasp onto your side, so much so that you can’t look at him.

“So-Ae!” Hyunjin calls out to a short, black-haired girl sitting on one of the chairs somewhere in the corner, a drink in her hands as she lifts her head towards Hyunjin. She waves, gesturing to come closer. So-Ae was one of Hyunjins friends, you knew her from class, mostly. Your confusion was cleared up when Minho popped his head out from the kitchen, a smile spreading across his face as he walked towards him.

He notices you, and you don’t miss the way he glances up at the two of you when he notices Hyunjins hand resting on the dip in your waist, just above your hip. Hyunjin leans down, his lips close to your ear, “that’s Minho’s new girlfriend.” Your eyes widen a bit as you look up at him.

Minho introduced So-Ae as his fiancé, the words drop like a bomb, it’s then you realize the 10 year long crush on Lee Minho was pointless, and it stings. But it doesn’t sting in the way you thought, it just makes you feel sad for all the lost time.  Hyunjin doesn’t miss the way you look at Minho, and it makes him reluctant to let his grip on you go as Minho pulls you into a hug. When So-Ae and Minho scurry off to talk to some other friends, you let out a deep breath, surprisingly you didn’t feel as upset as you thought you would be, which is a huge relief.

“Are you okay?” Hyunjin looks at you, something in his expression looks at you like you’re made of glass, careful to not break you with a miniscule movement.

“Yeah,” you hesitate for a second, “I’m not as affected as i thought I would be.”

You could almost swear you saw his shoulders relax as the words left your mouth. For the majority of the party, you and Hyunjin were conjoined at the hip, mingling among old high school friends, family you’d both grown up with and new people in the neighbourhood. Lia and Chaeryeong were a bit wary of Hyunjin, both having sent him glares that could kill as they heard him announce the fact.

As the night passes, you can’t help but feel a dreadful feeling creep up op you; it’s subtle but leaves your mind reeling with worries. It’s at that point you decide to step out into the much less crowded backyard. Instinctively you make your way over to the swinging bench on the porch, it’s empty and gives you space to breathe.

The guilty feeling that washes over you is indescribable, seeing how genuinely happy your parents where when they heard the – fake – news from your mouth. Sure, it felt nice to finally not be fussed over anymore, but this somehow weighed down on your shoulders more than being alone at the party would be. It was even worse knowing what followed fake dating was a fake breakup, you’d both achieved what you needed, so there really was no need for it to go on any longer. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t evidently grown used to his company, texts and affection.

Pulling your knees up to your chest you let out a big sigh, one that’s been tugging at you for a while.

“So, you think they bought it?” Staying seated you turned your head towards the direction of the voice, glancing at the person from underneath your lashes. Your stomach drops as you notice it’s Hyunjin.

“yeah,..” you hesitate for a moment, weighing the pros and cons of telling him your doubts, “go us,” deciding against it you offer him a weak smile.

“You must be tired, “ he sits down next to you, the swing lightly moving as he leans back, “want me to take you back?” “That’d be nice,” following as he gets up, “thank you.”

The walk back to your house is short and quiet, the house is dark, seeing as your parents were still at the Hwang house. They were the type to stick around until the very early hours of the morning, unlike you, who was knackered around 2-3am.

The dimmed lights on the porch light up, illuminating the walkway lightly. With reluctance you push open the front door, expecting a quick goodbye. It’s not until you turn around that you notice just how close Hyunjin has gotten to you, staring you down with a look you can’t decipher fully. Before you can speak up, he does;

“Huge shame this is fake,” his voice is breathy, forcing you to take a step back as he takes one forward, backing you up against the wall in the hallway. You stay silent, unable to move as your mind is going a mile a second, looking up at him like a deer in the headlights. Your body involuntarily shudders as his hand makes its way down your back, his tongue flickering across his lips, not once letting go of your gaze.

“Oh really?” the words come out before you kno wit, and in his eyes you see it’s just the confirmation he needs, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Let’s do this for real then,” he says, closing the slight gap between the both of you.

[s-brant]

Cherry Bowl (3/8)

(gif: @kiekiecarrera) (PART TWO) (PART FOUR) (SERIES MASTERLIST)

Summary: When Kie cancels their plans together, Y/N asks JJ on a date to the Cherry Bowl Drive-In. Unsure of how to navigate his first ever date, JJ seeks out advice. Unfortunately, the night doesn’t go as planned, and both parties are left shaken by miscommunication.

Word Count: 10.6k

Warnings: Smut, public sex/exhibitionism, sexual choking, angst, depictions of mental illness, post-traumatic stress disorder, and implied/referenced abuse.

A/N: Welcome back to Tokens! Slight trouble in paradise is brewing for these two lovers, so buckle up and read because it’s gonna be a rollercoster for a little while after what happens in this chapter. I hope you all like it, and if you did, feedback is very appreciated. Have fun!

"I'm just saying that oatmeal raisin is superior to chocolate chip, why is that such an egregious crime, Kie?"

The lunch room is filled to the brim with students going to town on questionably cooked frozen foods, soggy tater tots, and sugary drinks from the vending machines despite the Obama-era posters on the walls advocating for healthier school lunches that never seemed to make their way to Kildare County High. The extent of their healthy lunches extended to a serving of overcooked canned green beans served with the worst slice of doughy pizza known to human kind, so it was sort of contradictory.

Y/N sits across the table from Pope and JJ, the latter of which being the one who launched into a full-fledged debate with Kiara about which type of cookie was better.

The clear cling wrap sits, unfolded, on the table with one of her stickers neatly placed on the back of it. As consolation for his epic loss yesterday at the beach, she paid an extra .75 cents to get him it when she arrived first to their shared lunch period—one of only two class periods they have together, the other being gym. He was still in line when she peeled a surfboard sticker off of her sheet and placed it at the center of the wrapped up cookie as if to remind him of her triumph over him in the waves.

"Thanks, hot stuff," he said, voice somewhat quieter despite the fact that hardly anyone was in the cafeteria with them. Then his smile dropped into an deadpan expression as soon as he saw her choice of sticker and looked back up at her. "You're never gonna let me live that one down, are you?"

"Never in a million years. I'll be gloating about it until I'm elderly."

"That's my girl."

The sound of the constant chatter surrounding them from at least two hundred other people drowns out the memories of yesterday that threaten to haunt her when she watches him debate with Kie. The mere recollection of their night in the back of the van has her reaching to pull the collar of her cropped tee up to assure that the hickeys remain hidden on instinct, and he catches the action out of the corner of his eye. It has him fighting a smile.

Kie quips, "Maybe on another planet, but, here, I think we can all agree chocolate chip is better, right Y/N?"

Y/N's eyes widen around a forkful of mushy "green beans" at the sound of her name being said bringing her from the depths of her memories.

Usually, she's quick to jump in and give her two cents on whatever stupid back and forth they're all having, but her mind was elsewhere. Unbeknownst to Kie and Pope, she was mentally reliving every second of getting fucked in the van last night, so her attention to detail when it comes to the Chocolate Chip vs Oatmeal Raisin case isn't all too sharp.

"Uhhh," she stops for a second, looking at the half eaten chocolate chip cookie in Kie's hand, "If I say chocolate chip is better, can I get a piece of it?"

Kie's face lights up at her words, and she's already pulling off a generous chunk of the baked good to hand off to her. The sound of a certain someone whose lap Y/N's legs are outstretched onto from beneath the table scoffing distracts her from the first bite.

"I know you prefer oatmeal raisin, you traitor," JJ says.

Their brunette friend's brows scrunch.

"Why is she a traitor?"

They try to keep from making any faces or giving anything away, but Y/N has to stifle the sound of her choking on her mouthful of cookie at the question. You'd think one of them came out and asked if they were dating or something with how she reacts, and she feels JJ squeeze her ankle in a non-verbal way of telling her to hold it together. It was her idea in the first place, yet he's a lot smoother with keeping it under the radar.

Under it all, the aspect of keeping it a secret does unnerve him to a degree. He doesn't think he'd be brave enough to communicate it, especially not when their relationship remains undefined, but the darker side of his mind wonders...

He shrugs, saying, "Cause we were friends first. Duh. Other than John B, I've known her the longest."

None of them stop to acknowledge the identical aches in their hearts at the mentioning of his name. They skip right over it like it never happened. After the funeral a few days ago, they've filled their quota on mushy-gushy sad talk for the next week and a half.

The real reason is something far more complicated than him having a claim staked on her loyalty through having the longest friendship. It's something tied up in days of slowly getting pulled into one another's worlds like the tug of gravity itself, in how he has to refrain from slipping his arm around her waist in the hallway or kissing her goodbye after a sleepover at the Chateau. But until she gives him the go-ahead, he won't let it slip to anyone.

Pope speaks up from beside him, "You literally met her twenty minutes before we did."

"Still counts. Technically, I did meet her first, so her betraying Team Oatmeal Raisin is enough to be tried for treason in Pogue Court."

"Pogue Court isn't a thing."

He crosses his arms after he pops the rest of the cookie into his mouth.

"It is now. You can be tried for treason for breaking the rules. Rule number one is that all Pogues have to admit oatmeal raisin is superior."

He's about to ball up the cling wrap to throw away later when the surfboard sticker catches his attention again. It's the same color as his board, which he'd like to think is a result of her being an evil mastermind that went out to get this sticker sheet for the sole purpose of teasing him, but he's the one who got her the sheet as a gift for her birthday, so he knows it was pure coincidence.

Last second, he peels the sticker away from the cling wrap and looks down to place it over the top of her yellow converse that were once a vibrant, paler color when Big John got them for her, but have since turned into an ugly mustard/dirt-dusted color they heckle her over.

"What are the other rules?" Y/N asks.

One of the hands holding onto where her feet are casually planted in his lap, something that they've done long enough that their friends won't see it as anything odd, slides down to caress the stretch of skin beneath the frayed hem of her dark jeans. Something she didn't know about him before whatever it is they have together started was that he constantly needs to be touching her. She can't say she doesn't love it though.

Pope answers, "The oatmeal raisin rule is not official"—a pointed glance at JJ—"But I'd assume the rest of the rules of Pogue Court would be no lying and no macking."

"So, basically you two break almost every rule except the oatmeal raisin one, and I lie," JJ says and turns to look at her, "How does it feel to be better than everyone, Y/N?"

"Pretty good, not gonna lie."

He keeps caressing little circles and tracing up and down her skin beneath the flared out pant leg of her jeans while he swipes his phone off of the table top without attracting the attention of their friends, who continue on to a new topic. She isn't too focused on what it is. She only picks up that it has something to do with a class they're in that's more advanced that hers, so she promptly checks out of the conversation.

Ever since John B died, she hasn't been performing too well in school. She tries, truly tries, but her mind outright refuses to absorb any of the information. When she reads her assigned reading, she hovers over the same paragraphs over and over until she shuts the book in a huff and hides it in her backpack again. Losing someone you love has a surprising amount of side effects.

Her phone buzzing in her hand brings her away from the impending cloud of doom that often accompanies any thoughts of John B, and when she taps in her passcode, her brother's birthday, a message bubble appears with a banner displaying JJ's contact name.

JJ (Derogatory) ur a good liar. prob could've fooled me if i weren't the one macking on u

Their eyes meet for a second across the table, then he watches her thumbs move to type a response.

Kief Princess Little do they know I break every rule now that I've switched sides on the cookie debate. Kinda impressive ngl.

JJ (Derogatory) triple threat, baby

JJ (Derogatory) thanks for the cookie btw

She smiles to herself, so wrapped up in their own world that she doesn't notice everyone in the room starting to pack up their stuff in anticipation of the bell that is due to ring any second now.

Kief Princess Had to repay you for last night somehow ;)

When she glances up to see his reaction, she watches his chest rise with a particularly large inhale, and he chews on the inside of his lip in thought.

JJ (Derogatory) strategically bringing up last night so i'm turned on in physics? ur an evil mastermind

Kief Princess I try.

Kief Princess Apparently whooping your sorry ass at surfing isn't the only thing I'm good at.

She hears him scoff.

JJ (Derogatory) first of all, ouch. second, u barely beat me

Kief Princess I'm happy to challenge you to a rematch. I have plans with Kie tonight, so I can't till this weekend. All it'll prove is that I am the rightful winner, but we knew that already.

JJ (Derogatory) what r the stakes this time

Kief Princess No sexual favors. If you beat me (fat chance) I'll formally rejoin team oatmeal raisin.

JJ (Derogatory) :( sex makes it more fun but i still accept those conditions

JJ (Derogatory) team oatmeal raisin needs u, even if ur a traitor

Kief Princess Why bet sexual favors if you're just gonna fuck me after anyway?

JJ (Derogatory) good point

The sound of the bell ringing echoes through the cafeteria, and they both pop their heads up from their phone screens to see everyone, including Pope and Kie, already packed up and raising from their seats to scurry off in the direction of their next classes. Meanwhile, their stuff is all bestrewn across the table, particularly JJ's belongings.

The sight of Kie walking away makes Y/N ask after her, "We're still on for tonight, right?

She stops with Pope's hand interwoven in hers. The look on her face when she turns would make you think she got caught doing something she wasn't meant to. Something like forgetting about the plans they made last week to watch Fear Street together. The Cherry Bowl Drive-In is premiering the first two movies as a double feature for the horror movie buffs of Kildare, so they decided to get tickets. Kiara shares a fondness of horror movies with her. Since gory movies make the boys squirm, though JJ pretends they don't, it's their own thing.

"Actually, Pope and I were gonna go to the beach. I'm sorry."

JJ knows she's more upset about it than she lets on, but Y/N simply gives the pair a smile that doesn't reach the eyes.

The sound of JJ behind her makes them laugh on their way out, diffusing the minor tension lingering in the air from the awkward encounter, "Use protection!"

After their friends offer them a goodbye, they gather their stuff quite leisurely, not really caring about being late.

It's something they've talked about before here or there: her feelings surrounding Kiara and Pope's sudden relationship. It's not as if she harbors any ill feelings for them, she doesn't, but the ripple effects of their pairing on the group, and more importantly the girls' own friendship, couldn't be clearer from her perspective. Between the missed hangouts, forgotten plans, and the convenient way she never seems to have time to hang out with her and JJ unless Pope is there too, it's been building up for a month now.

What makes it sting the most is how close her and Kie used to be. They didn't hit it off immediately the way she and JJ did as children until her thirteenth birthday when no one she invited showed up to the party Big John helped her set up in the yard of the Chateau.

She was the one who rallied the boys together to walk to ask their school friends from the year above to come hang out for an hour or two, promising a slice of the wonky-looking but delicious strawberry cake her and John B spent the morning crafting together. She can remember the sound of their high-pitched laughs and the cloud of flour that hung in the kitchen when they high-fived over the finished product like it was yesterday. In her heart, it was yesterday.

That night was when she fell in love with her friends, and that was when she first knew Kiara was her best friend. They wove friendship bracelets on each other that night and wore them for years until they withered away. No one had ever done something like that for her before. Not even JJ.

"You okay?"

Feeling his hand on her arm, slipping down to take her hand for a moment in the seclusion of the empty cafeteria, makes her glance up at him with a distinct sorrow washed over her features.

You know what? Screw this. Why should she be torn up over Kie and let it ruin her excitement for the double feature tonight? There's no way in hell she's letting her best friend ditching her for her boyfriend get in the way of her plans.

"Do you wanna go on a date tonight?" she asks him abruptly, then adds, "To the Cherry Bowl with me instead of Kie?"

The question sparks a pause in his mind, a halt of hesitation in which he worries about her avoiding having to answer what he asked, but he attempts to play it cool and not fuss over her outwardly. There have been times where being treated like that has made her feel suffocated, so he doesn't want to risk it. When she's ready, she'll talk about it, and if she takes too long and buries her feelings, then he'll intervene. For now, he tries to keep his face neutral despite the frown tempting his lips at her disappointment.

JJ looks around once more before throwing his arm around her shoulder to walk her out.

"You bet your ass I do."

What is a person supposed to act like on their first date that's not actually a date cause everything between them is the same, but kinda is a date because they called it one? If you ever find out, please find JJ and tell him because he has no clue.

Pope wasn't too much help in the Instagram group chat he made for it seeing as his and Kie's relationship is too fresh, John B isn't even alive, so he's out of service for advice unless there's Ouija Board he can borrow, and, thankfully, Kiara was his savior.

Their phones began blowing up as soon as he reached his class after lunch period ended. He couldn't under any circumstances let it be known that this mystery girl he had a date with was their friend, but thankfully Y/N already had the alibi of going to the Drive-In alone. All he had to do was make up a fake date scenario and get basic advice.

danknugstickiestickies added kiara-c and popeheyward to the groupchat

danknugstickiestickies named the group HELP ME

danknugstickiestickies i have a date with this chick i met on the beach when i was out with y/n last week. i need ur advice

His phone screen lit up with the notification that both of his friends were typing, signified with the three dot symbol bouncing in the bottom left corner as he thought it through. They couldn't possibly figure it out, right? They'd been careful, he'd been respectful of her wishes, and they'd been too busy together to notice anything new with them. He figured it would work. It was a risk, sure, but it was worth it to him. He didn't want to fuck this up with her.

Knowing her, she probably wouldn’t even treat it differently than any of their other hang outs. It's not like they haven't been romantic or sexual with each other. They've done everything but go out on an actual date, so why was he nervous?

kiara-c ummmm

popeheyward Yeah, I'm gonna need you to ELABORATE!!

kiara-c did hell freeze over? since when does jj maybank go out on dates??

danknugstickiestickies renamed the group hell froze over

kiara-c very funny, I'm laughing so hard 😐

popeheyward Do we know her?

danknugstickiestickies don't think u do. she moved here last week and hasn't enrolled in school yet. her name's steph

popeheyward What about Y/N though?

kiara-c ^^

JJ's chest muscles tightened with the question prompting a rush of anxiety that made his breathing feel slightly harder. He glanced up at his Physics teacher, who was essentially dozing off behind his desk with his hand in a bag of chips and an educational video on the projector as an excuse to not teach, and looked back down at his phone without the added stress of possibly getting his phone confiscated.

Pope's message might as well have been a sucker punch. Forget butterflies, he set a wasp’s nest loose inside of his stomach to tie it into knots and flip it every which way. His neglected textbook served as a prop for his phone to lean on as he set it down to think.

Did they know? As far as he was aware, they were getting away with it. No evidence, concrete or circumstantial, was there to prove it. At least the stress of the situation killed any chance of him being turned on by her reminder of last night in their messages. This shit was boner repellant of the highest degree.

He played stupid. Better to let them volunteer whatever information they had before he went in saying anything incriminating that they didn't already know. If anything would sour the experience of their first date, it would be him accidentally making their strange in-between relationship public behind her back.

danknugstickiestickies ?? what do u mean

Three dots bounced in the bottom left corner of his slightly cracked phone screen.

popeheyward ...

kiara-c I mean, you don't see it?

danknugstickiestickies see what

popeheyward I guess we were wrong, but all of us always thought you two had some feelings going on.

"You don't say?" JJ murmured sarcastically to himself under his breath. "Never crossed my mind, Pope."

danknugstickiestickies bro that's jb's little sister

kiara-c so?

danknugstickiestickies forbidden fruit? making john b roll over in his grave? do those ring a bell or am i speaking in tongues

He was already a proficient liar in real life, but, fuck, it was easy in text messages. There's no chance at deciphering facial expression or tone, just a plain message with no room to budge. Thank God he didn't do this in person with them. He could've survived, but it wouldn't have been as quick and painless as the group chat was.

kiara-c jeez, sorry

Pope didn't voice it, but he noticed something.

He looked up from his phone and stared off at the wall in thought in his AP European History class. It piqued his interest that JJ simply said she was off limits, forbidden fruit as he put it, but did not outright deny having feelings for her. In fact, he didn't even address the question. He made excuses for why he shouldn't have feelings for her, but he never said he didn't have feelings for her.

Kie did not notice. Not because she wasn't smart enough to either, but because she was too busy hiding her phone behind her backpack to think too deeply about it. Her teacher was one of those teachers that would flip shit if they saw a cell phone turned off and faced down on the desk, let alone being used by a student during a lesson.

In his classroom across the hallway, JJ bounced his leg up and down beneath his desk in an absentminded urge to release the built up energy the anxiety produced in an over abundance.

popeheyward Our bad then. Even John B thought y'all were sus lmao.

Since when was that a known fact? Could he tell? Did he talk to Pope about him and Y/N before he died? Either way, it wasn't the time to pry about it.

kiara-c yeah you guys honestly could've fooled me if you wanted to

danknugstickiestickies well thank u, glad ur invested in our friendship but

danknugstickiestickies please help, i have no fucking clue how to act on a date and this girl is too cool for me to screw this up

That was when they finally dropped the interrogation session and started offering up tips. The best ones came from Kie, which made sense to him since women are more likely to know what other women like than two dudes who share one collective brain cell and never had real relationships.

Rule One: Be ready to pick her up five minutes early.

He wasn't ready to pick her up five minutes early. His bike broke down by the time he made it halfway down his street, so he had to push it back up the road and into the yard before setting off on foot to reach the Chateau quickly enough. And by quickly enough, it means he got there five minutes late, not early.

Rule Two: Compliment her after you get in the car.

She tossed him the keys to the Twinkie from across the hood, not giving him the chance to open the door for her, and it wasn't until they were setting off down the road that he remembered the next piece of advice he was given.

Side-eyeing her in his peripheral vision, he tried to find something to compliment her on specifically rather than the general compliments about her being pretty that she never fully believes when he says them. He was intending to say something about the skirt she had on, but when he chanced a glance over at her, she caught him and asked—

"What is it?"

Sent into panic mode, JJ blurted out instead, "I like your shoes."

He could've bashed his face against the steering wheel twenty times right then and there at the utter absence of reaction on her part for the next few uncomfortable seconds. It wasn't that it was a bad compliment. She appreciates any compliments at all...but her shoes were hidden from his view. Not to mention, they were the dirty, mustard yellow converse that the Pogues bash on a daily basis.

She laughed, lifting her leg to expose the sneaker on her right foot, and asked, "These? Dude, you roast me for these all the time. You and John B said they look like Big Bird shit on them."

The skin on the apples of his cheeks scorched hot with embarrassment, and he was never so glad that the overhead lights in the van were burnt out until that moment. He would've died on the spot if she saw him blush like that, face flushed pinker than sunburn. All he could do to save himself was murmur something about the color growing on him and keep driving in the direction of the theater with his hands white-knuckling the steering wheel he fantasized about banging his face into.

Rule Three: Insist on picking up the check.

In this case, it meant insist on buying the popcorn and drinks, and he miraculously managed to drop his wallet somewhere along the way when he ran over to the Chateau, so when he stepped up to the makeshift concession stand with her standing at his side, he felt around for his wallet in his jeans to no avail.

His thoughts echoed back to him, You gotta be fucking kidding me. Seriously? Is this actually happening right now?

"JJ, it's honestly fine," she said softly as he leaned over to search back of the Twinkie for the wallet. "We can look for it on your street right now if you want. It has your ID and stuff, you don't want a stranger to have that. We don't need to stay—"

It took all of his control to not shout it in reaction when he said, "No way. You've been waiting for this, and Kie ditched you, so I ain't ditching you too. We're staying."

His wallet could go kick rocks.

He came too far to be dragged down by the old leathery piece of shit anyway. Would he go out and search for it tirelessly the second the date ended? Hell yeah, that fucker had twenty dollars and his debit card in it, but he couldn't bear the thought of abandoning her or ruining her anticipated movie night by taking her out to search the streets with their phone flashlights for a wallet they might not find. He'd wait till the movies ended, take her home, then haul ass around the Cut searching for it after.

Thankfully, he found a couple bucks crumbled up in his front pocket while she scavenged for coins in the glove compartment, and they came up with enough to buy a water bottle and small popcorn to share together.

Rule Four: Don't have sex on the first date.

And it may sound easy enough to not act like a complete Neanderthal for the length of two movies, but the girl makes it pretty damn difficult if he's to say so himself.

That's what led him here, laying in the back of the sideways-parked Twinkie in the farthest corner of the outdoor theater with her practically on top of him. In any other instance, he wouldn't be opposed in the slightest, but with the cursed fourth rule in mind, he isn't too thrilled with the feeling of her hand rubbing up and down his thigh.

It isn't even meant to be sexual. They're constantly touching one another this way. She'll even slip her hands up under his shirt just to feel the warmth of his skin or when he asks her if she can get an itch on a part of his back he can't reach, but for some reason his brain is short circuiting right now.

The thing is, when Kie and Pope said he shouldn't do it on the first date, they meant it for his and Steph's made up circumstances, not his and Y/N's full-blown relationship without labels. When you've had sex with someone as many times as they have with each other, the hesitancy on the "first date" is nonexistent. It doesn't matter. But JJ, trying to follow the advice given to him to the letter for the sake of being the date she deserves, doesn't think about it that way.

It shouldn't be this nerve-wracking. They've been best friends since they were children, they've been flirting since they found out what basic attraction was in the first place, and they've been forming this relationship ever since John B died. Why can't he relax? Why is this so different compared to how easy it felt between them yesterday on the beach or today at lunch?

Rule Five: Be yourself.

It takes him another few moments of laying here with her before he realizes quite abruptly what went wrong in a quick flash of a thought that brings the fifth rule back to him. The problem wasn't the bike, or the weird compliment about her Big Bird sneakers, or the lost wallet.

The problem is him. The problem is that he's trying way too hard to make this something it isn't. The part about them that he adores so dearly is how they never have to try when they're together. With any other girl or guy, they'd have to fake something or act a certain way, yet when they're together, they can simply exist and everything is runs smoothly. That's not to say they don't disagree or bump heads, they do, but short of those outlier moments, it's easier than anything else they do in life.

His eyes flicker away from the screen for the first time since the movie began, which, by the way, is gruesome enough at times that he had to divert his eyes to prevent himself from seeing it happen. They land on where she lays, completely content with the night in spite of its mishaps, with her head propped up on the pillows they brought from the Chateau.

He wonders if she can tell he's acting differently. Surely she must notice. She's the type of person that typically never misses a thing, perfect for the gold hunt they went on in the summer with picking up the clues and helping her brother unravel the mystery, so maybe she noticed how flustered this date has him. Does it bother her? Does he bother her?

With a confirming glance back up at the movie to see nothing important happening, he can't fight the urge to speak anymore.

"Can I tell you something?"

His voice appearing through the darkness of the shut off van after spending the past half hour in complete silence makes her jolt at first before realizing who it was. Though she loves horror movies, she can't claim to not be affected by them. The night she falls asleep after watching one, she often finds herself compelled to turn a light on and keep her feet from dangling off the edge of the bed. It's worth the fear, though.

When she turns to look at JJ, there's a warm smile on her face. She's cuddled into his side with a hand placed casually atop his thigh, caressing with no purpose or intent, and her movement halts when the light from the movie on the projector allows her to see the expression on his face.

Anxiety has become an increasingly significant presence in his life with the recent events in mind; John B and Sarah, the four-hundred million dollars they lost out on, and dodging his father whenever he sneaks home to switch out the backpack of clothes and personal belongings he keeps at the Routledge house.

It manifests itself in jittery nerves, stomach pains, shortness of breath, and, at worst, panic attacks striking either at random or in response to a specific trigger. It's one of the few things he still tries to hide from her, and she tries not to push him too hard with opening up about it.

She abandons the movie for the time being and rolls onto her side to face him, upper body propped up on her elbow as she examines his face with downturned features.

"Of course," she says.

The words left unsaid are, "You can tell me anything. Whenever you need someone to listen, or to talk to about shit, you can tell me." He's heard her say it enough that he doesn't need to hear it now to know it's true.

There's a pause, then—

"I feel like I fucked this entire date up," he starts to ramble and cuts her off before she can think about saying what she wants to, "and I know it's okay to you. You have way too high of a tolerance for my bullshit, and I've been trying so hard to make this perfect, but all that did was screw it up."

She's left quiet for a second, taking it all in.

Maybe if he hadn't been so anxious about it, he would've realized what was wrong with his bike when he rode it home from school, or he would've noticed his wallet fall out of his pocket. The point is, he wishes he hadn't let the label attached to this freak him out so much. He isn't sure why it does, but it does.

But she doesn't do what he expects. She isn't drowning him in reassurances and, "It's okay's" because she knows he doesn't care for them much. When he, the most stubborn person she knows, apologizes for something he did, he doesn't want it to turn into the person accepting the apology coddling him.

Y/N sighs.

"Is that why you've been acting so different all night? I scared you with the whole ‘date’ thing, didn't I? It doesn't have to be a date if you don't want it to be."

What she doesn't know is that he wants it to be a date. He wants it to be a date so badly, he risked Pope and Kie finding them out for the sake of getting some proper advice on it, and now he's caught up in the same game of tug and war in his mind that always occurs when he wants to tell her the truth about his feelings for her.

Part of him doesn't understand why he doesn't outright say it. With every other girl he once showed interest in, he had no issues in letting them know he wanted them, but this is different. This isn't simply wanting someone, he thinks he's fallen for her. But whenever he says he's gonna grow a pair and tell her after all this time, he chokes. Involuntarily, he's reminded of his parents. Other than his friends saying it platonically, the only people to tell him they loved him were them, and with how they treated him, he sure as hell doesn't think that is love.

From his dad's brutal physical abuse to his mom's abandonment, he's too timid to tell her he loves her because of what could happen if she loves him back. Everyone else that has said that to him has either hurt him, died like John B did, or abandoned him.

He won't let that happen with him and Y/N. What they have, albeit undefined and codependent, is safe. It's the only thing he has left. Maybe it isn't right, and maybe he should open up about it to communicate the correct way, but somewhere in the misshapen logic of his mind, he correlates love to abandonment. And he doesn't want that to happen with her.

There are two sides of him at battle inside his mind. One side, the side that wants to do right by their relationship and actually communicate his feelings for once in his life, wants him to tell her everything. The other side, the side that responds based on the history of his past, wants him to hide it all.

"Will you be mad at me if we don't call it a date?" he asks.

She shakes her head.

The heavy sensation inside of JJ's chest nears a point of vitriolic violence against him as he starts to realize what he's doing to her, clearly letting her down, but he can't stop himself. Like a passive witness watching himself from outside of his body, the instantaneous trauma response to the sudden confrontation of his true feelings for her guides his actions without his permission. It shuts down any protest he has.

The sound of the movie fills the gap of silence between them the entire time. It’s a variety of bloodcurdling screams and disgusting sounds that would've made him gag if he weren't as distracted.

They can make out each other's faces through the darkness, but barely. It takes a flash of bright color from the film or a nearby car's lights turning on for them to fully see one another. Without the other knowing, they both put masks of calm and collected coolness on their faces despite the feelings raging beneath the surface—more so on his part than hers.

"Maybe," he says, pausing, "we should just keep things the way they've been."

As soon as the words leave his mouth, a soul-crushing amount of disappointment weighs her down. She said it was fine if he doesn't want it to be a date—and it is, she would never hold it against him—but that doesn't mean it can't hurt her. Things have been going so well, she almost thought...If tonight went well, she was thinking about no longer keeping it a secret, but if he said he wants things to stay the same, then maybe he isn't as ready for it as she is?

Meanwhile, JJ is on another page entirely.

She's embarrassed of being with you, a familiar voice in the back of his head croons. She's gonna leave just like everyone else does. If she doesn't even wanna tell your friends, why should you pretend you're dating?

The internal comments are the type that cause him to physically grimace when he's alone. Intrusive thoughts are just that: intrusive.

Sneaking into the guarded sanctuary of a person's mind, they set out to convince them the opposite of their reality. The only thing is, where most people's minds are guarded sanctuaries with walls of impregnable defense, his mind is the equivalent of a fortress blown to smithereens. The castle walls lay in rubble, the guards no where to be seen, and the path for these thoughts to slip past and straight to the vulnerability of his mind is left wide open.

In the privacy of his room, these thoughts attack him the most at night when he tries to fall asleep—when things get too quiet. With nobody around, when they get this bad there's nothing he can do except break down. It builds from the mere anxiety of attempting to force the thoughts away to full-blown panic attack mode. The more he resists them, the more aggressive they become. He'll gasp for air with tears streaming down his face, hitting his head with the heel of his hand as if that'd do something to stop his relentless mind.

But he can't afford to react in front of her, so the extent of his reaction is a subtle twitch of his face that she cannot see in the momentary darkness before the movie switches to another scene a second later. In a way, it does make the thoughts go away to have her here preventing him from spiraling alone. Having to focus on her keeps his mind away for moments at a time until the thoughts ease their grip on him.

When she hasn't answered for a while, he asks, terrified that he did something bad, "Are we good?"

The question seems to wake her up, snapping her out of the lonely direction her thoughts went into when he "rejected" her. It takes every bit of common sense she has left to force herself to understand that this doesn't mean he doesn't want her. He does, and not calling this a date doesn't mean they won't be together in the way they have been since John B's death, but she isn't perfect. She gets as unsure and insecure as he does.

As if the cloud of doom was lifted off of her, she makes her face lighten where she lays on her side next to him. Seeing this expression makes his chest feel less heavy, and he could let out a sigh of relief at the realization that he didn't break her heart and stomp on it. He should've known. Y/N is the sweetest person he knows, so she never would've flipped shit over him not wanting to label this as a date. That's not how she is.

And he's partly right. It isn't how she is. She would never hold it against him if he didn't want something further with her since she got herself into this position by pursuing him with his reputation with girls in mind, but she can't ignore it. Whether she wants it to or not, it had its affect on her as soon as he said it.

She leans in to kiss him, their lips meeting in the middle with the faint taste of popcorn salt mingling at the soft peck.

When she pulls away, she brushes the hair back from his face and says, "Don't worry. Nothing can change how I feel about you."

She has no clue what it feels like to hear that from her.

Despite the turmoil they unknowingly share beneath the surface due to this conversation, he could cry hearing her say it. It doesn't feel real to him that she feels the same way he does about her, because nothing could change how he feels about her either. That’s why he manages to work up the courage to repeat it back to her, and, for now, this is the closest he's physically capable of coming to telling her the truth.

"Ditto," he says.

It isn't what she wanted, but it's close enough, and if she dwells on this any longer, she might start getting too emotional and let the urge to tear up become too strong. Why does she have to be this sensitive? It's no secret that it's remarkably easy to make her cry, but this is insane to her. When all of this began with him, she didn't give a shit about him not wanting a label. She understood him, and she understood that he doesn't do this kind of thing, so why has it changed? Why doesn't she want to keep it a secret anymore? Why does she want this to be a date when she knows he doesn't want it to be?

Pulled by an invisible string back to him to silence her mind, she leans in to kiss him again with a hand cupping the back of his neck to guide him the rest of the way to her.

It shouldn't be laced with any sexual intention. She should be kissing him simply because she wants to, and, in a way, she is. Their kisses and touches are never lacking the motivation that is their underlying connection and mutual feelings for one another, but this is not the same. As he kisses her back with as much confidence and passion as always, she is reeling from the conversation that reminded her too much of a breakup.

It takes another minute of this for the kiss to heat up, their breathing becoming shallower in the moments they part to inhale, and she is undeniably the one instigating when she officially crosses the line between casual and sexual by crawling onto his lap. It's not hard for him to pick up on when their innocent moments take a turn. She's easy to read in that regard, and this has happened a multitude of times with them, so the shift of a mini make out session turning into something more is nothing out of the ordinary for them.

If he knew how shaken she is on the inside, he'd never want this. And the same would go for her if she knew what he was thinking before this. Neither of them wants to admit what they're feeling.

With her legs seated on either side of his hips, she kisses him like it's the last time she'll ever get the opportunity to. Her hands wander wherever they can, pulling at his shirt and feeling him up as his hands guide her hips to move against his in a steady grinding that she has no issue partaking in. It's an eagerness he hasn't seen from her in weeks. She's never un-excited when it comes to being physical with him either, but this is another level. The last time a girl was all over him like this, it was desperate touron at a party a few months ago.

In the span of time it takes her to glance over her shoulder to see if anyone could see them and reach to pull her skirt up until it bunches around her hips—no one can see them, by the way, since they got here late and were forced to cram the van into the back corner of the lot with no street lights illuminating the path—his brows raise at her presumptuous behavior. Not that he's one to complain, however, seeing as he's typically the one doing what she is.

Their next kiss clashes their teeth hard enough to make them wince, but he loves it. It makes him smirk into her parted mouth, alive with both the feeling her reassurance provided and the fuzzy-headed high that often finds him when they're together in this way. Incomparable to past flings or the high related to any drugs, she is the peak of everything to him. It's no contest.

His chest stutters against hers with a bout of amused laughter, asking within a brief pause in what feels like the most JJ thing he's said this awkward night, "Two for two in the Twinkie. What's gotten into you?"

Y/N's hand dips between where their bodies move together to unclasp the closed buckle of his belt in one smooth motion that has it falling apart with a clinking noise.

Her features are set with a look that tells him she means business. Whatever it is that sparked this, he wonders how the fuck to make it happen again another time. She's begged for it before, but never taken control so dominantly, and he can't deny what the role reversal does to him. The evidence is obvious in the distinct hardness she feels pressing up against the hand undoing his jeans.

"I was hoping it'd be you," she says, voice breathless and airy from the constant contact in a way that makes it ten times hotter for him.

If there were any chance of him not being in the mood prior to this, which wasn't the case anyway, it's gone now. He never wants to hear her say she doesn't deliberately try to tease him ever again.

He doesn't need to be told twice.

JJ surges forward to capture her mouth with his, this time with no intention of pulling away to breathe or speak again. No, he'll let himself get lightheaded and dizzy if it means he can stay with her for as long as possible.

With the circumstances of it all, them being visible to someone if they happened to pass by the open door of the van, they move at a pace quicker than usual. She's immediately helping him shimmy his jeans and underwear far enough down his hips to free his dick from the confines of his clothes, making him sigh out a breath of relief when her hand brushes against him in the process.

There's no opportunity to slow down, it has exploded into a full-throttle speed race that neither of them can halt.

His hand blindly flies out beside him to grope the floor of the van for the set of keys he tossed carelessly to the side once the movie started, eyes shut in the midst of the hot, messy kiss they share. His fingers find the fabric of one of the blankets they brought in case they got cold, then drifts again and lands on her Big Bird sneakers until he feels the sharp metal of her keys meet his calloused palm.

After the events of last summer, she bought a switch blade to keep on her key ring alongside the keys to the van, HMS Pogue, and Chateau. She may not like violence or weapons, seeing as she was a skeptic of JJ keeping the gun alongside her friends, but she saw it necessary. Between Rafe, Topper, and Kelce, how could she leave the safety of her and her friends up to chance knowing what some of the kooks did to them not long ago? What happened to Pope on the golf course alone was enough to make her skin crawl.

Right now, though, the knife flips out from the pressure of his thumb pushing the button to release it. He holds it out away from her at first to assure it doesn't nick her in the process, then uses his other hand to tug the side of her panties that hugs her hip far out enough to press the sharp side of the blade onto the inside of it.

She can hardly believe what she's watching as JJ cuts the delicate maroon underthings from her body as if he were doing something so normal, like it's something he's done before. Her forehead is pressed against his, her mouth parted both in shock and in a need to pant for oxygen, and she watches the knife ruin her favorite panties. The stitches come apart with a satisfying ripping noise that can hardly be heard over the sound of people reacting to the movie in the background.

Other customers of the Cherry Bowl Drive-In are too glued to the screen as a beloved character is chased down, reacting in shouts when she's seized by the killer and shoved onto the table of an industrial bread slicer, so they remain wholly unnoticed.

The lace, now ripped in half, dangles on the tip of the knife when he lifts it away from her, tosses it aside, and presses the button once more to retract the blade. It clatters to the floor, but is in no way forgotten with them resuming in a desperation to keep going until they both satisfy the need clawing at them from the inside. But her sense of need is different from his, and even with the fresh memory of him with the switch blade in mind, she's still somewhere else the whole time.

Her mind is faraway, muted through layers of sadness, anger, and disappointment as he reaches between them to line himself up to her entrance. The sensation of him running his cock, hard and messy with a few drops of precome, through her dripping pussy to coat it in her slick arousal is enough to make her moan pathetically. Yet when he's about to guide himself inside of her, she stops him.

"Wait, wait, wait," she breathes out rapidly, heart pounding so hard she can feel herself pulsating between her thighs, "Condom."

They were so antsy to get to it, they almost forgot.

"Fuck," he curses under his breath, and his eyes flicker from where they were trained between their bodies to glance back and forth around the van before it hits him. "I lost my wallet..."

But right when he thinks their public rendezvous in the back of the Drive-In is over due to his unfortunate mistake, she shakes her head and slips away from her perch astride his lap to crawl over to her bag.

She fumbles with the old tote bag and plunges her arm in to sift through the hodge podge of things that are purely Y/N in nature—stickers, glitter pens, a half-eaten bag of candy, etc—for the square foil package she decided to toss in before she left just in case. She usually doesn't keep them on her because he never fails to have one, but, thankfully, she had the random instinct to bring it tonight.

The only thing to bring her out of her cloudy, malevolent storm of feelings when she settles back onto his lap with the condom wrapper ripped open for him is him saying, "So you planned this, huh?" with his mouth tipped in a familiar self-satisfied grin.

She didn't plan it. In fact, she threw herself at him the second she sensed him withdrawing from her and can't stop herself despite the fact that she constantly feels two seconds away from letting a tear slip down her cheek. If that counts as "planning it", then sure.

"Maybe so," she answers, cool, calm, and collected—the antithesis of the truth.

They usually don't lie to each other.

They're thrown right back into it without any other hiccups once he rolls the condom on, and he takes in a shaky breath at her hand wrapping around him to align their bodies up. Before she can do anything, though, he takes chance to swipe the blanket he found a moment ago and wrap it around her back to keep her covered in case they get caught.

Y/N sinks down onto his cock with her lip caught between her teeth to stifle the sound that threatens to escape. JJ, on the other hand, doesn't bother concealing the sound of the groan he makes at the sensation of having her wrapped around him like this. The tension in her entire body from the anticipation and the looming threat of being seen by someone has her squeezing him so tightly, he can't help but be a little louder than he should.

Her soft palm slaps over his mouth with enough pressure to force his groan to quiet itself, and she watches his pretty blue eyes widen in reaction to the dominant action. Who is this girl and what has she done with his sweet, submissive Y/N? Don't get him wrong, he is very turned on by it, but it's unlike her to take the lead this way. He can't figure it out.

"What's wrong, angel?" she asks in a whisper into his ear, her hand over his mouth and her hips starting to slowly rock against him, "Watch the movie."

Once the words leave her mouth, she drops her hand, just in case he wants to stop and can't say anything because she had his mouth covered, and JJ is pretty sure he's died and gone to heaven.

He doesn't watch the movie, not at all, because he's too busy watching her. For someone losing their mind internally, she does not let it show, nor does she let it distract her from what's happening. If anything, the distraction in this situation is the sex, not what's going on inside of her head.

There's a moment of adjustment and going as slowly and gently as possible while waiting for the dull pressure of feeling him inside of her to fade away, but, for the most part, she doesn't waste any time. As soon as she feels comfortable enough with the ache between her thighs giving way to a spark of pleasure when she grinds her clit down on his pubic bone, she starts to ride him at a better pace than the initial slow movements of her hips.

She raises herself up and takes him again inch by inch, enjoying the sense of fullness she gets from having to fit him in spite of the slight discomfort at first, and she could swear that he'll leave bruises in the shape of his handprints with how tightly he clutches her hips. It's all he can do to prevent himself from moaning or saying something, ever the vocal lover she's come to know.

Unless his mouth is preoccupied like it was on the beach yesterday afternoon, JJ is usually impossible to shut up, especially in this context. With him always whispering dirty things to her, whether it be praises, pet names, or plans on what he wants to do to her, she has come to find it breathtakingly hot. He could likely get away with saying something if he wanted to, but he isn't sure he wants to risk it. If he opens his mouth to spew something filthy to her, he won't trust himself not to make a louder, different kind of noise that won't fit in the with background audio the other moviegoers are listening to.

The wet sound of their bodies colliding that fills the space of the van is drowned out by the loud and violent sequence occurring on the screen far ahead of them, and hearing it makes her bounce herself on him a little harder. She's fueled on by it all, and, strangely, what happened before she practically pounced on him is the main contributor.

Similarly to the nature of his intrusive thoughts, the harder she resists the memory of how it felt when he told her he didn't want this to be a date, the more forceful it is in its return. Her eyes trail down to watch where they connect with her forehead pressed to his, then she's thrown back into the feeling of helpless disappointment and insecurity. His head tips back against the window with his bottom lip dropped open and his brows furrowed just enough to create a crease on his forehead, and she's bombarded with the look of relief on his face when he realized he didn't have to be tied down to her with a label.

It makes her want to get rougher, harder, and she doesn't even care if it'll make her sore later on. She presses herself down so far every time she slides down on his cock, her teeth draw blood on her lip with how hard she must bite it to remain quiet. The pain of her hipbones rubbing against his doesn't even matter to either of them at this point. They're both too lost in the pleasure that has begun to take control of them to care about something as minuscule as that, or the burn in her thighs from the repetitive physical strain.

She grabs his wrist and brings his hand between them, flattening hers overtop of it and pressing down on the base of her abdomen in the midst of the increasingly feverish thrusts.

"Feel you here," she murmurs to him through a quiet moan, hoping he can hear it over the movie, and pushes down on his hand for emphasis. And if the way he reacts by cursing under his breath tells her anything, it's that he picked up on it. "JJ..."

He reaches out to grab her by the throat with his free hand and tug her forward to kiss him, as if something inside of him snapped in response to her doing that. The motions of her jolting up and down throws the already messy and uncoordinated kiss off-kilter, but they don't mind. It has them separating every time she lifts up, producing this heady little head rush from from them breathing in each other's air without actually letting their mouths meet in the middle.

Though they're trying their hardest not to alert anyone outside of what's happening, it didn't occur to him until now, when his eyes catch John B's old bandana swinging back and forth where it's secured around the rear view mirror.

They're worried about moaning while the entire fucking Twinkie is rocking with their movements. Well, at least it makes good use of the corny sticker he gifted John B last year as a gag gift. He tried to peel it off after JJ snuck it onto the side window to no avail. So, now Y/N is stuck with a sticker on her car reading, "If the van's a-rockin', come on in, we like orgies," rather than the more common phrase.

It almost makes him start laughing, and he prays no one takes that shit seriously, 'cause he is never intent on sharing this breathtaking girl. Ever.

Y/N isn't anywhere near laughing like he is, in fact, she's finding it difficult to keep herself together. She feels her eyes sting with the promise of tears, and she's never felt so pathetic before. Is she seriously about to cry during sex? Is she really that girl that is so ill-equipped to handle rejection, she can't get through it without tears?

She won't cry. Perhaps if he sees how glossy her eyes have become in a rare moment of good lighting, she can blame it on the hand around her throat putting pressure on the sides of her neck.

The worst part about her being near to crying is the timing of it.

The emotion of what she feels mentally mixes with the swirling, building sensation she feels in the pit of her stomach that tells her she's close to going over the edge, and it's so overwhelming. Was she imagining that their friendship had changed? More importantly, is this all she'll ever be to him? Sex is the only thing she's sure of with him, it's the only thing that doesn't require deeper emotions, and when the ground beneath their fragile relationship felt shaky...

He can feel her starting to unravel, and he knows that he'll come before she does if he doesn't do anything now, so he decides to take control.

JJ pulls the hand he had resting on her abdomen away as though he were burned by it, wrapping his arm around her waist to steady her body against his and using the hand around her neck for leverage to thrust up into her, effectively reducing her to a teary-eyed, moaning mess atop him. They both stopped caring about making noise the second he began to fuck her like this.

She cries out in ecstasy at the sudden change in pace and depth that has him hitting all the right places. Every time he thrusts up into her, just as rough as she wished for, the tip of his cock nudges into that perfect spot inside of her that makes her incapable of silencing her moans. This time, it's JJ that puts his hand over her mouth, letting the one he had around her neck move away to keep her from alerting everyone around them of what's happening.

There's nothing she can do to stop her climax as it barrels through her in its initial sweeping wave of bliss to contrast the venomous doubts in her mind. She's never felt such conflicting, yet powerful feelings before—the intensity of the physical pleasure that makes her whine into the palm of his hand, then the part of her mind replaying every word he said in their conversation before this.

Her body is rigid and tense through it all, squeezing down around his cock with the involuntary spasms of her orgasm, and he can't help himself anymore. All it takes are a few more frantic thrusts for him to bury himself inside of her one last time and spill into the condom, uncovering her mouth so he can drown out his own groans into a kiss.

Their skin sticks to their clothes on the inside with sweat from the exertion of their actions, and he can feel her stomach tremble where it presses up against his with each undulation of her hips that meet his as he rides it out.

But even with the added distraction of the sex, she can't rid herself of the feeling that started plaguing her as soon as things went awry. That was why he was acting weird all night. He must have been so worried about her thinking this was anything more than their typical hangouts that he couldn't bring himself to act normally.

She forces herself to look happy when they pull away from the kiss, panting, and JJ, unaware of what she's been thinking, doesn't notice the small deception.

Tag list: @gabiatthedisco

[shirophantomvox]

How Illumi, Hisoka, and Chrollo would react to their S/O in the hospital

Hi, anon! You are welcome to join my Discord Server if you are a fan of Hxh, Voltron, or both! I promise this is a safe environment! This is an interesting topic for sure! To the other anon(s), I am working on your request! This will contain both fluff and angst. I forgot to include Leorio in this, so I’ll include him in the next HxH post. You’ll have to forgive me, I have 2 more requests in my inbox and I am not feeling the best. I just got my second Covid shot and it is hurting like hell. Nevertheless, I encourage you all to get your shot if you can. I will be on this site one and off and I should be on it for real next week. I have run out of ideas to write and I began to think I was annoying people with my HxH content (no one said this I just assumed). This post has 1974 words. After these requests are finished, I plan on doing a character analysis for Leorio.

Anyway, let’s get into the post!

We’ll start with Hisoka this time.

Hisoka

In all honesty, this man has heard of a hospital (since he sends a lot of people to it after fights) but has never been in one.

The signs, floors, staircase numbers, and elevators all confuse him. He has only been in one once when he was a kid and has never been again.

He isn’t a social butterfly in this setting because this is a professional establishment and not a college party. Asking for directions takes quite a toll on him because of his established pride. You know guys act when they want to find a destination on their own and will go miles out of the way instead of just asking for direction.

He doesn’t talk to anyone; all he wants to do is find you and make sure you are alright.

He is the tallest person in the freight elevator. So tall that everyone at turns to look at him at once for at least 10 seconds and turn back around surprised.

“How tall is he,” one of the nurses ask.

“Tall enough to be my house!”

This annoys him. He takes out the Joker card and lays it against his thigh but realizes he cannot make any hasty decisions. His bloodlust was activated merely out of irritation and not by threat. You were on his mind and destroying these worthless humans wasn’t an option for today.

He approached the guest desk and waited for about 2 minutes before he was acknowledged.

“May I help you,” a smug receptionist asked. Wow, these people do not know who they’re talking to.

“I’m here to see y/n.”

“Y/n is in room 345. Go down the hall and to the right all the way down.”

This man nearly ran with a quickness! His jester shoes somehow made the floor shake as he ran.

You were awake, eating the horrible food the hospital provided and watching TV. It seemed like you were doing ok, but you had just been in a car accident. Your arms and right leg were still sore. It was so bad that you’d be fine with Hisoka carrying you everywhere.

When you two are alone in serious public places, he doesn’t play games or tricks. He is often portrayed as a ruthless man, but in settings like this, he places the jokes and games aside for later. When he enters your room, he is silent for 30 seconds. Much too long. He was shocked; he walked around your hospital bed, pulled up a chair, and stared at your cast. It had many names written on it.

“Yes, I am ok.”

“I apologize for not being there for you,” he began to say.

“Shh… it’s ok. This is life. It hurts like hell, but I’m a trooper!”

Admiring your cast and its multiple fonts of handwriting and messages, he grabbed a sharpie marker, wrote his name, with a heart and spade next to it. Surprisingly, his cursive was very neat and legible.

“I didn’t know you knew how to write in cursive! Why don’t you write me letters?”

“I see you every day and it hurts my hand.”

The doctor wouldn’t be in for another 1 ½ hours, so Hisoka used your thigh as a pillow as he took a nap. He had been up for countless nights thinking about you. He was screwing up so bad, Chrollo let him leave early.

“As soon as your better, we will fight again. I won’t go easy on you. You won’t be in the hospital but you get the jest.”

Illumi

Illumi isn’t the type of man to overreact in these types of situations. When you both agreed to date each other, you knew you all were tough cookies. You were aware of the dangers of dating an assassin and he knew about the dangers of dating a bounty hunter. People hated you both and you targeted.

One night you both were caught in a vulnerable state. While you both enjoyed chocolate milkshakes at a laid-back 1950’s styled diner, two men were previously thrown out for fighting. While your back was turned one of those men shot your arm, causing you to carelessly throw your body to the ground due to impact.

While everyone else was screaming, Illumi jumped to the ground and tied his hair tie around your arm to temporarily stop the bleeding.

“Illu, why does it feel cold in here,” you managed to breathe out.

His heart dropped to his stomach for the first time in history.

“Don’t say things like that!”

Illumi is already horrible at displaying emotions, but all he could do is frown in fear. Once the EMS came barling in, he demanded that he ride with you.

Illumi hadn’t experienced anything like this since Killua had been injured when he fell from a tree.

You and he were separated when you were rushed into surgery leaving him alone in the waiting room.

When Illumi is stressed and cannot properly display how he feels, he tends to act in “odd” ways.

He begins to furiously turn pages in magazines or bother the receptions every 2 minutes about the status of your surgery. When the woman finally says that you’re still alive, he tones it down a little.

Illumi is open to conforming advice from strangers; he has been receiving it secretly from strangers. Since Silva was busy abusing him, he often found comfort from “the streets”.

He has a bad habit of pacing back and forth and fidgeting in his seat while horrific images fill his mind. All he has seen is pain and even though he was used to it, he didn’t want you to go through it as well.

While sitting in his seat (finally!) and head in his lap, doubled over indescribable sorrow, a little girl walks up to him with her hands folded and a doll under her arms. Illumi feels her presence and looks up. The girl’s curly hair covered her endearing eyes and her smile is wide.

“They’ll be alright. I just know they will,” turning around returning to her mother, the girl said with confidence.

On cue, Illumi placed his hand over his heart, smiling just a little.

He walked quickly to your room once you were out of surgery.

His speed walk mimics one of a soldier; his left arm in since with his right leg. His shoes echoed throughout the hall.

As soon as he enters the room, he shuts the door harder than usual and gives you a tight embrace. This surprises you! You’re lucky if he lays his head on your shoulder!

Illumi had been working out lately. He wanted to beat you in the “squish the melon” contest. He is very competitive and even if he lost, that doesn’t hurt his ego. Not in the slightest. Since it was just the both of you alone, he bends down to hug you tight, so tight that your face is squished against his.

This behavior is only surprising because he usually doesn’t coddle you even when you get hurt, but this time he realized that you could have died from the gunshot wound.

After that he kissed your forehead and almost simultaneously the doctor barreled in just missing the sweet moment between you and your beau.

Chrollo

When Chrollo is holding meetings with the Phantom Troupe, he always appears to be neutral. That is very important. A leader has to show strength even through the worst/hurtful times of their lives.

Chrollo had gotten a call from Nobunaga that you had gotten hurt on a mission and had actually gotten captured by the enemy. Phinks was able to get you back but you suffered horrible injuries.

This is protocol; they do this for any of the members. The troupe was oblivious to the fact that you and Chrollo were dating. They thought you were here to replace Uvo.

In situations like this, he is calm on the outside but screaming on the inside. Common sense will tell you if you are startled by the news you’ve just received and you begin to drive, you could cause more harm on the way to your destination.

Chrollo is very silent; he doesn’t call to check on your status or anything; he would rather see it for himself.

You were a trooper! After all, you are dating a dangerous robber.

Chrollo already knew what room you were in so he just went.

“I knew I should have kept y/n by my side. Y/n insisted on doing my dirty work that they almost died! How foolish could I have been?” He constantly cursed himself for letting his guard down with you.

He always gave you room to think and complete your own tasks but he can’t help his protective nature; one he has for the troupe but times 10.

His childhood friends had been shot by law enforcers, his home was horrific, and the last thing he needed was for you to be gone. You were keeping him afloat in society.

When he opened the door, Phinks was sitting in a chair, one leg over the other, laughing at a TikTok video.

Nobunaga on the other hand was watching the world news and seemed invested that he didn’t hear Chrollo enter the room. Once they both saw, they stood to their feet.

“Y/n is ok boss. They suffered a few cuts and burns, but they're breathing.”

Chrollo’s straight face remained as he stared at you.

Chrollo’s silence is something the troupe has internalized as a sign of anger, rage, or both. When he didn’t speak and just stared, everyone knew that their next mission was going to be a brutal one.

Chrollo is a man that isn’t afraid to express how he feels. He could cry right now if he wanted to and no one would dare laugh at him or insult him. After all, Nobunaga cried when he realized Uvo was dead.

Nobunaga and Phinks excused themselves as they saw him place his hand over his mouth.

Once the door closed, He pulled up the chair, grabbed your hand, and gently squeezed it. His warmth woke you up instantly and you turned your head. You winced in pain causing Chrollo to jump from his seat, moving to your right side so you wouldn’t turn your head too much.

“I’m glad you're alive, darling. What were you doing putting yourself in danger? Feitan could have handled the beast!”

He isn’t trying to doubt your ability to fight, he’s just concerned for your safety. Even so, why would he insist that you join the spiders?

A tear dropped from his face as he silently kissed your hand three times. You smiled warmly and placed your right left hand on top of his.

“I am fine, boss. You need not worry. I’m a trooper, remember?”

He placed your hand against his dry cheek and continued to kiss it. You were his lifeline and he wanted to spend every moment with you.

[kuroosweakness]

more single dad!kuroo | sumi and her stuffed animals + special bath + talks about her lost tooth + school troubles + dinner 

“what’s tim doing here?” 

the green sea turtle plush lays on his back, having stared at the ceiling for the past hour. 5-year-old sumi comes running through her dad’s room’s door with her hair flopping against her back with every step. 

“tim’s gonna stay with you today,” she informs kuroo and makes grabby hands at the turtle. naturally, kuroo plucks the plush off the mattress and places him in her hands. 

“oh? why with me?” an amused smile creeps onto his face. it’s always her and her stuffed animals. but oh, he can’t deny he doesn’t hearing all of the drama between her stuffed animals. apparently, the imagination of a 5-year-old is endless. 

sumi takes a good long look at tim and his green flippers. she scrunched up her face and makes a pouty face. “tim’s tired of the other mean animals and wants to gonna stay with you today,” she tells him, as if it’s the most obvious thing ever. “you’re not gonna be mean to him?” 

“course not,” kuroo huffs. he sits down on the carpet floor and sumi follows. “tim and i are great friends, right tim?” 

not to his surprise, tim doesn’t reply. sumi nods and places the turtle on her dad’s lap. “okay. tim’s staying with you today.” 

“mmm...” kuroo arches an eyebrow at her as she suddenly pulls out her dolphin plushie ...from under the bed? “daphne’s gonna stay with me too? wow, am i popular,” he teases. 

daphne, the blue dolphin, joins tim on kuroo’s lap. “she’s gonna stay with you too because the other animals are being mean.” 

“i see,” kuroo slowly nods and rests his chin on the palm of his hand. “who’s being mean to them? and why?” 

“the dinos! because they’re-” she points at the plushie on her dad’s lap. “-ocean animals so the others don’t like them.” 

“c’mere,” kuroo waves at her to come closer and she does. she plops herself right on her dad’s lap. her mischievous smile proves that she’s aware of squishing tim and daphne. “we’re gonna haveta wash your hair today,” he tells her while combing her hair with his fingers. 

“ooh, special bubbles?” 

he laughs. “no, not with special bubbles. gotta save water, baby....for sea turtles and dolphins like tim and daphne.” 

after bunching her hair into a small ponytail, kuroo sits back and lets her do a 360. “all done~” 

before she bounces out of his room, he calls out, “sumi, wait-” 

sumi turns around and looks at her dad questioningly. 

“you can’t-” kuroo gets up and brushes his pants, picking up tim and daphne from the floor right after. “-just let the dinos be mean to tim and daphne.” 

“i’m not,” she says. “i’m gonna teach them a good lesson right now.” 

before kuroo can say something, her eyes darken like the way they always do when she’s about to tell her dad something interesting. 

“do you know what they said to daphne once?” 

kuroo places the plushies on his bed and walks over to her. “what did they say?” 

sumi looks down at the floor and follows her dad out the door and to the kitchen. “they made fun of her because her smile” 

kuroo nods along, opens the top fridge door, and bends down to ruffle his daughter’s hair. “what happened afterwards?” 

sumi’s shoulders slump and her chest grows heavy. “she cried and they laughed. it-” she picks at her lips. “ because she lost her tooth and now her smile look funny” 

a small thud distracts her from her train of thought. kuroo says a small “oops” and picks up the jar lid that fell on the floor. he places the lid back on the counter and croutches down at sumi’s eye level. 

his eyebrows draw together; his eyes scans over her face for any signs he may recognize. “now, now�� he rubs his palms against her shoulders soothingly. “they have no business making fun of daphne for something as natural as losing a tooth.” 

he knows his words aren’t much help, but he truly doesn’t know what else can make her feel better. kuroo’s glad she can’t tell how much her crying hurts him too. 

“besides, her smile does not look funny. i think she looks beautiful, and my opinion matters, doesn’t it? since has daddy been wrong?” he gives her a small smile in hopes that it’s a contagious one. 

she stifles a laugh and roughly wipes her eyes on her sleeve. “you got milk chocolate and dark chocolate mixed up!” 

he smiles and rolls his eyes. “well excuse me. they look like the same-” 

“nuh uh!...” she giggles. “at least you didn’t get white chocolate mixed up!” 

“it’ll be troubling if i did,” he laughs. his face softens at her. after a few more shoulders rubs, he asks, “is daphne feeling better about her smile now...?” 

she sniffles, inhales, and breaks into a sob. kuroo’s eyes widen as she presses her head against his chest. and suddenly, his grey shirt is her next tissue. 

“but no one else lost tooth” she chokes. it doesn’t take long for her teary eyes to release teardrop after teardrop. she hates this, hates being weak, hates how she looks with big, red, and puffy eyes. but at least she’s crying in front of her dad and not those boys at school...daddy wouldn’t laugh at her, ever. “it’s only me with big hole in smile” 

she pulls back and shows him the gap between her front tooth as if her dad doesn’t already know. “sumi-” 

“it looks dumb.” she frowns and tightens her hug around kuroo’s neck. “so so so dumb” 

kuroo continues rubbing and patting her back like the way he used to when she was younger, and couldn’t sleep at set times. “you know,” kuroo gently begins. “those mean people will lose their teeth later and they’ll have gaps in between their teeth too. plus, the tooth fairy wouldn’t give them money because she never awards mean people.” 

sumi sniffles and presses her eyes against her dad’s shirt to soak up leftover tears. 

“so not only did they lose a tooth, but they also don’t get money and have no right to be making fun of you.” kuroo slowly pulls back and examines his daughter’s tear-stained, red, scrunched up face. “after a quick face wash, you’ll be as good as new” 

sumi doesn’t reply and climbs on her dad’s back for a piggy back ride to the bathroom. 

he lifts her up and tightens his hold on her small thighs. as he starts walking, he sees her feet dangling by his side and wonders, where did her other sock go? he sighs and shakes his head with a tired smile, not another missing sock...

“sumi, i’m sure i’ve already told you this, but another tooth will grow back. an even stronger, better tooth!” 

the bathroom lights flick open and kuroo steps onto the tiled floors, setting his daughter on the counter and holding onto her thighs to prevent her falling off. 

he catches his reflection in the mirror and stifles a laugh. the neck area of his shirt is soaked with tears and snot. 

“daddy?” 

he looks up at her and her bunched up fists. “hm?” 

“can i take a special bubbles bath?” she points at the bathtub and puts on her best set of puppy eyes. naturally, kuroo’s weak heart makes him nod ‘yes’ before he can process what she asked. 

“really? yay~” she inches closer to the edge of the counter and- 

“woah woah woah,” he sets her down and lets her climb into the tub. sumi sets her clothes aside and sits patiently in the tub, waiting for her dad to turn the water on. 

“the water’s cold at first, remember?” he teasingly pinches her cheek, thankful that she mind is no longer on her fallen tooth. maybe he should have a talk with her kindergarten teacher-

“dad?” 

he looks up and wonders where the -dy went. 

“the water’s warm enough now!” she gives the water a few kicks and cups and handful before throwing it up and laughing. sumi treads across the water and grabs the colorful bath bomb she picked out at the store a while ago. 

kuroo turns the water off and she eagerly throws the bath bomb in. “...why’s it not melting? :((” 

with a quick look at the floating ball, kuroo chuckles and picks it right out the water. “there’s plastic wrapping around it, baby.” 

sumi’s mouth forms a small ‘o’ and watches her dad peal the wrapping away. “throw it in!” she tells him. 

he does just as she says and the two watches small bubbles form around the blue-turning water. 

“it’s blue...it’s red...it’s purple!” she cheers and throws her arms above her head. kuroo smiles in acknowledgment at the fact that she knows her colors well. 

~~~

“daddy?” 

there goes the -dy. thank goodness it’s back. “yes, baby?” 

she pokes at his arm that’s drying her off with a towel. “can i get more plushie?” 

“no more dinos though...” 

“course not! i want-” she taps her lips in thought and squeals when her dad’s cold hands comes in contact with her warm skin. “-i want more sea plushie” 

“how about a shark? sharks constantly lose and grow more teeth” 

“but sharks are mean” 

kuroo slips her shirt over her head. “not all of them,” he says. “a lot of sharks can be nice and we could name him or her-”

“what about ‘smark’?” sumi suggests. 

kuroo snorts. “’smark’? not sure if that’s a name or even a word, sumi...but if you’d like, then sure.” 

“daddy?” 

“yes?” he gives her hair some final ruffles and grabs a nearby comb. 

“you used to call me punkin” 

“...mm, and what about it, punkin?” 

“the kids look at me funny and laughed when you called me punkin” 

“did they?” kuroo sighs. “god, why are the kids in your kindergarten class so mean” 

“i don’t know,” she quietly replies. “they’re just like the dinos!” 

he frowns. “screw the dinos” 

sumi holds her belly as she laughs. “screw the mean boys and girls too” 

after a few final hair brushes, kuroo pats her head and grins. “my beautiful girl~” 

“pumpkin,” she corrects him.  

kuroo pulls back in surprise and slowly sets her back on the floor. “’my beautiful pumpkin’ sounds like i’m talking to the orange vegetable,” he chuckles. “i thought you didn’t like it when i-” 

“i do like it. and pumpkins.” she bounces out of the bathroom and jumps onto couch, like the way she always does after baths. “daddy would you be sad if tim and daphne not sleep with you today?” 

“i would be more than heartbroken,” kuroo jokes from the bathroom. he flicks the light switch off and pads over to the couch she’s sitting on. her mischievous smile grows with every step closer. 

“then i guess you have to be heartbrochon” 

kuroo dramatically gasps as he sits down next to her. “and you’re completely fine with me being heartbroken? just when i thought you loved me-” 

“i do! but i love tim and daphne more so they need to sleep with me today.” 

kuroo tries to hide his face of betrayal at the fact that he’s not first place in her heart, not second, but third–after two stuffed animals. 

“so....” she crawls closer to him to display her irresistible puppy eyes again. “can i have a shark plushie?” 

“just so your shark plushie can take my place in your heart?” kuroo teases and leans forward to grab the tv remote. “i’d be fourth place-” 

“no you won’t! my list goes-” she looks deep in thought as she counts her fingers. “teddy, daphne, buddy, tim, fried rice, you”

kuroo’s mouth gapes open as he slumps against the couch. “i come after fried rice?” he laughs. “even though i’m the one who makes it for you?”

she laughs with him. her laugh matches his well–both loud, genuine, and more like a cackle. “fine, you come before fried rice.” 

but not before your four other stuffed animals? he shakes his head in amusement. “i guess you’ll have to go to teddy, buddy, tim, and daphne to cook you dinner and tuck you in bed today~” 

he shrugs his shoulders in defeat and walks over to the kitchen. “it’s all too bad that i’ll have to enjoy my grilled mackerel all alone~” 

“daddy! you know how much buddy likes fish!” she grabs her polar bear off of the couch and marches after her dad. 

“he has great taste,” kuroo replies back. sumi glares at her dad and clings onto his leg as he washes the rice. 

“i’ll put you in first place if you buy me ‘smark’“ she playfully says. 

“ah...bribing won’t work on me, baby”

sumi huffs, releases her hold, clasps his sweatpants instead. “but you already number one on my list” 

“mm,” he hums back, unconvinced. conversations like these and teasing her are his favorite. he finds great joy in getting her riled up in little topics that might not matter to others, but means the world to him. 

“uh huh! you are!” she follows him to the fridge and widens her eyes at the sight of a popsicle. “can i have that?” 

“save it for dessert,” he replies back. 

“mm” she groans and walks over to pick up her polar bear that she accidentally dropped on the carpet. clink and clanks of pots and pans ring through the air as kuroo searches for the right pan.

“daddy? can i bring smark to school?”

“as long as if you don’t lose him,” he replies.

sumi’s face stretches into a wide grin. “does that mean you’ll get him for me? :)” 

kuroo lets out a long sigh. “yea, i probably will”

sumi bounces over to her dad again and beams. “you’re the best”

“yeah yeah” he laughs. “i was in like sixth place a few minutes ago”

“you always at number one,” she tells him as she goes on her tip toes to try to place her polar bear on the kitchen counter. she fails and buddy falls on her head.

“have i?”

sumi picks buddy up again and runs to her room. kuroo turns around at the lack of her voice and she suddenly runs back with her dinos.

“trash!”

kuroo’s eyes widen. “oh no no no, don’t throw your toys away”

“but they’re bad toys :(“

kuroo thinks about this for a second. “you gotta teach them to not be mean, give them a second chance, maybe they’ll become nice dinos”

sizzling sounds come from the pan and sumi smiles at the smell of fish. but quickly frowns again at her dinos.

“i guess,” she mumbles and runs back to her room. it doesn’t take long for her to run back out with teddy and buddy in her arms, her teddy bear and loose bear.

“i said you always been number one,” she tells her dad while scratching the side of her hair. “ask why”

“so you put me after fried rice to make fun of me?” kuroo teases.

“no? that was my list of ‘stuff i love’ not ‘people i love’ “

kuroo ponders this for a moment and reaches up for the little bottles of spice.

“so i’m on your ‘stuff i love’ and ‘people i love’ list? i’m a stuff and a person?” he chuckles.

“you’re number one on my ‘people i love’ list,” she says. sumi crinkles her nose at the smell of string spices. “and the only one”

“... i’m the only one? what about your friends? teacher? tim? buddy?”

“buddy’s a bear!” she exclaims like it’s the most obvious thing ever. “not person. and teddy’s my best friend, but he’s a bear too”

“mm... so no human friends?”

“nope, maybe you”

“maybe?” he laughs. “are we not friends?”

“you’re daddy! not friend”

“i can be friend and daddy at the same time!”

“but you can’t be daddy and fried rice at the same time”

kuroo stifles a laugh at her unexpected response. “that’s correct. do you ... does no one ....” kuroo bites his lip. how should he approach this topic?

“who do you sit next to during school?”

“amara and thomas” 

her response is quick, so she must know them well, right? sumi picks at the fluff of her polar bear and goes to sit on the carpet right outside the kitchen tiles.

“do they not talk to you?”

“sometimes,” she replies. she’s much more interested in why she suddenly sees a blue mark on her polar bear then the discussion with her dad right now. “buddy’s turning blue :(“

“...?”

“look!”

but kuroo doesn’t have the time to look away from the pan so he nods. “mm, we’ll give him a wash”

“okay”

“who else do you talk to during school?”

“mrs. chen” she frowns at the blue spot on her polar bear and checks to see if teddy has one too.

“anyone else?”

whew, teddy doesn’t have one. “sometimes amara”

with a click, kuroo turns the stove off and slides the mackerel on a white dish. “anyone else...?”

“no”

“ah... do you wish you have more people to talk to?”

“no, i talk to you all the time!”

“right, you tell me everything,” he beams. he brings a spoon to his mouth to taste the sauce.

“daddy why can’t guys make babies”

kuroo’s eyes widen as he splutters out the sauce. “...well, it’s just the way mother nature works”

“so you didn’t make me?”

kuroo avoids eye contact and rubs his neck sheepishly. “well..... it’s complicated and not something you should worry about”

“mrs. chen said i look like you, and she called me pretty. does that make you pretty?”

“...” conversations with a five year old can be quite amusing ... “it’s up to you,” he laughs. “do you think i’m pretty?” 

“i guess”

he laughs even harder at her dry response and quickly turns the conversation topic back around. “is school fun for you?”

“i guess”

“...” ah, there goes the painful short responses. “what do you guys do everyday-“

“daddy why do guys have to stand up when they use the bathroom-“

“remember buddy’s blue spot?” kuroo quickly butts in.

sumi’s eyes diverts back to her polar bear. “:(( buddy’s turning colors!”

kuroo lets out a long, heavy, and tired sigh. it’s been a long day for him as a parent and now he learns that his daughter doesn’t have any friends her age?

“buddy will be fine,” he reassures her and carries white dishes to the small dining table. sumi places a long kiss on buddy’s nose.

“daddy if you weren’t so tall i’d kiss you on the nose too”

before kuroo can say something, sumi changes the topic once again. “smark will be friends with tim and daphne.”

“mm”

“mrs. chen said that you’re really tall”

“...”

“she told ms. loren that you’re the most handsome dad”

“......”

“ms. loren whispered something about being my future mommy and it was really weird”

kuroo chokes on his spit and walks back into the kitchen quietly. “i-“

“i don’t want ms. loren to be my mommy” 

“oh you won’t have to worry about that,” he nervously chuckles. his daughter sure has a lot to say...he makes a mental note to avoid eye contact with ms. loren the next time he drops her off. 

“daddy do you like tim and daphne or do you pretend to?”

kuroo frowns as he cuts up some cucumbers. “why wouldn’t i like them? i like the way they make you happy”

“i think amara only pretend to like me” 

kuroo makes another mental note to consider transferring her to a new school. after a final slice, he puts the diced up cucumbers onto a small plate and grabs nearby spices. 

“maybe amara isn’t meant to be friends with you. sometimes, peoples’ personalities just don’t match up.” 

sumi sighs and slumps her shoulders. “i wish you can go to school with me instead of work” 

“i wish i can too” he laughs. “punkin, dinner’s ready. wash up” 

“ooh” sumi quickly sits up and dashes over to the kitchen sink step stool. “but you said you wouldn’t cook for me...?” 

“i can’t leave ya hungry,” he tells her. “besides, i’m your friend” 

“and my daddy,” she quips back. she turns on the sink and scrubs her hands with soap. “but not fried rice.” 

“mm, i’m not fried rice,” kuroo restates with a smile. “...do you like going to school?” 

“it’s fun sometimes, so. i guess.” sumi steps off of her step stool and happily bounces over to the dinner table. 

~~~

the night concludes with them eating dinner, kuroo asking more questions about school and buddy’s blue spot, sumi happily eating popsicle for dessert

[lightsupinthenorth]

Damn it, I’m calling you mine

Read on AO3

*

When Alternate-Mobius (as Loki has taken to calling the Mobius from this timeline in his head) comes to get him out of his cell and lead him to one of the interrogation rooms for the umpteenth time in however long it is he has been stuck in this cursed timeline, Loki lets himself be dragged there without protesting.

Protesting got old fairly quickly, considering it accomplished nothing at all. It doesn’t even get on the nerves of the TVA agents and hunters as it did in the timeline Loki left against his will.

Alternate-Mobius’ grip on his forearm is firm, firmer than it usually is. As if he were afraid Loki was going to make a run for it. As if Loki were stupid enough to think it would be of any use, after all this time. Loki would be insulted if he could muster enough energy for such an emotion.

As soon as they’re inside the interrogation room, Alternate-Mobius locks the door behind them. That’s new, too. Loki’s eyebrows raise slightly, but Loki doesn’t question Alternate-Mobius. What is even the point? He’ll know soon enough what the man is trying to do. Probably.

Alternate-Mobius fiddles with his TemPad for a few seconds and a familiar orange portal opens in front of them.

“Follow me.”

Loki nods, ready to obey, but Alternate-Mobius doesn’t move. Instead, he opts to stare at Loki with a frown on his face.

“Really? You’d follow me just like that? You’re not even going to question it?”

It’s Loki’s turn to frown. Why would Alternate-Mobius ask such a useless question? Has he yet to register how Loki’s fire has died out ages ago?

He shrugs.

“Okay then, let’s go…”

Loki swears he hears Alternate-Mobius mumble “what the fuck have they done to him?”, but he doesn’t have time to think about it any further before he’s pulled by Alternate-Mobius through the time-portal.

Before Loki can blink, he’s in a living-room with Alternate-Mobius by his side. All he can focus on apart from that is his own confusion.

He hadn’t known what to expect, but he hadn’t been expecting something this benign.

“Where are we?”

“Oh, so you still have some questions then. Thank God, you had me worried for a second over there.”

Loki, instead of unpacking what Alternate(?)-Mobius just said, glares at him until he relents.

“We’re at my flat, it’s a long story, I’ll explain everything later. First, tell me if you’re okay.”

His gaze travels the length of Loki’s body, as if he’s assessing damage, and then he’s staring right into his eyes. Maybe he’s searching for the damage in his soul, then. There’s a lot to find, without a doubt.

The concern that radiates off of the man brings a realisation to life in Loki.

“Mobius?”

Of course, it’s Mobius. Alternate-Mobius is also Mobius. But what Loki is really asking is “are you my Mobius?” Because that’s how he thinks of the first version of Mobius he got to meet. He can’t ask that, though. Mobius couldn’t possibly react to such blatant (and misplaced) possessiveness in a positive manner.

“Yes.”

Loki wants to take the simple answer at face value, but he has to be sure. He has to be sure he’s got this right. He couldn’t cope if he accepted this as true only to have his fragile hope ripped away from him later.

Sylvie betrayed him, sending him to an alternate timeline where everything that had become familiar to him at the TVA was here and not here at the same time. It had been torture. Especially seeing Alternate-Mobius constantly. The other version of Mobius only served to remind Loki of what – of whom – he had lost.

“How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

It’s not comfortable, being on this side of lies. Loki has a lot of experience as a liar and as the one being lied to. He far prefers the first configuration, it has to be said.

“What would I gain by taking you here and lying about which version of me I am?”

“Seriously Mobius, now is not the time to answer a question with another question.”

Loki is dead on his feet. He cannot fathom how he manages to stay standing. He fears it will not last much longer.

“I… I don’t know. Ask me something only your Mobius would know.”

Loki blinks a few times, trying to come to terms with this Mobius (whichever he is) saying “your Mobius” like this. Like it’s easy. Like it’s an evidence.

It turns out that Loki worried for nothing, earlier, when he kept himself from asking if this Mobius was his.

After a small eternity, Loki focuses on Mobius’ request instead of on this insignificant (but not for him) detail.

“How did we find out Sylvie was hiding in Haven Hills, Alabama?”

Loki could have asked Mobius a lot of things, but this question seems like a good option. No one knows about this but them. Loki doubts Mobius put it in the reports or mentioned it to anyone, because it’s just a detail, a clue that led them to Sylvie. It doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. But Loki remembers it, and he’d bet his Mobius would too. The elation they felt when they reached their goal is not something that can be forgotten easily, after all. At least, Loki hopes not.

“We found out because you’re clever and we make a great team, but I don’t see how that’s gonna convince you I’m your Mobius.”

Loki feels winded by Mobius’ words. The praise, the acknowledgment of their partnership, and the “your Mobius” (for the second time in a matter of minutes). However, he can’t let himself lose his focus.

“That’s very nice of you to compliment me, and we do make a rather spectacular team. But I’m asking you about the clue which led us to the right location.”

“Oh, you mean Kablooie?”

As soon as Loki registers the words, his knees buckle and he might have fallen down if Mobius weren’t there to steady him. He extends his arms and Loki instantly grabs them. His heart is beating so fast he’d fear a heart attack if he were human.

“It’s really you.”

Loki hears his own voice crack with relief, and his eyes fill with tears.

“It’s really me.”

Loki didn’t need the confirmation, but it is so on brand for Mobius to give it to him anyway that Loki gets the impulse to throw his arms around him and bury his face in his neck. He tries to resist the impulse for a mere second before giving up entirely and engulfing his Mobius in a (perhaps overly) tight hug.

Mobius wraps his arms around Loki in return, hugging him back. That’s when the tears begin to fall in earnest. Before he knows it, Loki is sobbing uncontrollably in Mobius’ embrace. It’s most undignified and he’s probably ruining Mobius’ shirt, but Loki’s too far gone to care. Anyway, Mobius has seen most of his life when he was working for the TVA, and Loki’s done his fair share of embarrassing things. This is not the worst one, by far.

Being vulnerable is still difficult for him, but he has no control over himself right now, so vulnerability is the only way to go.

*

Mobius has an armful of crying god, and he’s taking it in stride if he does say so himself. He’s been looking for Loki for so long, he’s been through so much to find him that he’s prepared to accept anything Loki throws at him now that they’re finally reunited.

“There, there. It’s going to be okay now.”

Mobius continues to whisper reassurances in Loki’s ear until Loki’s sobs subside. Mobius is loath to break their embrace, but they can’t possibly stay like this much longer considering Loki has looked on the verge of keeling over ever since he got up from the floor of his cell. When he saw him, Mobius had to make a conscious effort to reign in a gasp (the hunters guarding Loki’s cell would have found that mightily suspicious coming from the Mobius he was then pretending to be). Loki is thinner, there are bags under his eyes, and his skin has taken a blueish tint which, rather than being reminiscent of his origins, looks sickly. Now that Loki’s finally safe, Mobius wants nothing more than to take care of him and nurse him back to health.

“We should probably sit down. Would that be alright?”

Mobius can feel Loki nod, but Loki makes no move to separate himself from him.

Okay. Mobius can work around that.

He slowly walks them to the couch without letting go of Loki. They fall on it rather gracelessly, and Loki immediately rearranges himself so he’s lying down with his head face down on Mobius’ lap and one of his hand gripping his knee. He wishes Loki would let him see his face, but it certainly isn’t the time for requests.

Mobius passes the fingers of his left hand through Loki’s messy hair and Loki shivers against him.

“Is this okay?”

Loki’s only reply is a hum. Mobius interprets it as acquiescence, so he repeats the motion again, and again, and again. To comfort himself as much as Loki.

“Do you want something to drink? Or eat?”

Loki’s grip on Mobius’ knee tightens and he whimpers. Mobius’ stomach drops.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?”

“I… I’m fine. Just… can we stay here for a while?” Loki’s voice is hoarse and tentative, as if he were expecting Mobius to turn him down. As if it were a credible outcome. Preposterous.

“Of course, anything you want. But, please let me know if you need anything else, alright?”

Loki hums again, and Mobius goes back to playing with his hair.

*

It must be hours before either of them speaks again. Loki’s turned around by now, so he’s facing Mobius while still resting his head on his lap.

“Do you have a bathtub?”

“I do.”

“I could go for a bath… But…”

He’s reluctant to voice his desires. He’s been attached to Mobius as a barnacle to a rock for longer than he can tell, and Mobius must be tired of him by now. Maybe he’s been tired during this entire display of neediness and has only tolerated it for Loki’s sake. Mobius is decent enough that it doesn’t sound particularly far-fetched.

“But what? Go on.”

“Would you… would you mind staying with me while I’m in the bath?”

“Sure.”

Mobius looks unphased, but Loki still needs to ask:

“Are you sure it’s no bother? I know I’m being clingy and…”

Mobius interrupts him:

“Rest assured, you’re only the one clinging to me because you beat me to it. I don’t want to be apart from you anymore than you want to be apart from me.”

Loki frowns, as if facing a puzzle he can’t quite solve.

“Really?”

“Of course. Why do you think I looked for you for months?”

And it makes sense, from an objective point of view. It’s a wonder Loki can’t wrap his head around it.

“Oh” is all he has to say.

“Yeah, oh.”

Loki will wonder later how exactly Mobius managed to rescue him. He’s not strong enough to deal with that conversation at the moment.

“Come on, let’s get that bath running.” Mobius says, sitting up straighter.

Loki gets the message and pulls himself up. He only loses physical contact with Mobius for a handful of seconds before he reaches for his hand and slide his fingers between Mobius’.

They walk to the bathroom hand in hand and Mobius only lets go when Loki has to undress. Mobius looks away until he’s in the bath, hidden by the bubbles. It’s a sweet, if useless (Mobius probably saw Loki naked in countless occurrences on the TVA tapes), gesture.

Loki would ask Mobius to join him if he had the courage. He can’t find it in himself. He’s been bold enough as it is. Besides, it would definitely cross the line. To be honest with himself, he’s not sure this line exists anymore, but he ought to pretend it still does. For Mobius’ sake, if not for his own.

“Can I wash your hair?”

The prospect of Mobius’ gentle hands back in his hair is a pleasant one, to say the least. So, Loki immerses himself in the bath to wet his hair and comes back up, before replying:  

“Please, be my guest”, trying for a teasing smile that probably comes out looking wrong.

*

Mobius returns Loki’s fond smile, relieved to finally see a positive emotion displayed on this beautiful face.

He grabs his bottle of shampoo from the edge of the bathtub and squeezes some of it into his palm. It’s cheap stuff, with a cheap artificial apple scent. Surely not up to Loki’s standards. However, Mobius doesn’t reckon he’ll care after his forced stay in the Alternate-TVA.

When he starts rubbing the shampoo into Loki’s hair, Loki shivers again, and then moans. Mobius puts the reaction in a corner of his brain so he can examine it later. It might be a thing.

Mobius takes his time (which is to say, he takes far more time than is necessary), before he finally requests:

“Bend forward and close your eyes for me, please.”

Loki complies without a second thought, and warmth spread inside Mobius at the display of trust.

“Good boy.” Mobius says it without thinking, as he’s reaching for the hand shower.

Loki tenses up, and Mobius instantly regrets the words. They’re out, though, there’s no calling them back.

Thankfully, before Mobius can go into a full-blown panic caused by his own stupidity, Loki relaxes again, even though his breathing is now laboured.

That’s quite a lot to unpack there. Mobius will make sure to come back to it in the future. Until then, he focuses on rinsing Loki’s hair without making a mess. He then wrings the excess water out of it as gently as he can and grabs a towel from the rack attached to the wall.

He hands it to Loki and looks away again to give him some semblance of privacy. He hears Loki get up and say:

“It’s okay, you can look. I don’t mind.”

Mobius should decline, but he’s too weak. It’s so hard to not keep his eyes on Loki constantly when he has just got him back.

So, Mobius looks at him, and instantly notices Loki’s lower torso is covered in bruises. They’re stark against Loki’s skin, which is now back to its usual paleness, sans blueish tint.

Mobius must have visibly reacted, though he’s not aware of it, because Loki takes a glance down his own body and flinches.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think…”

“Don’t apologize. Not for that.”

Loki’s mouth clicks shut.

*

Once Loki’s dressed in a T-shirt and sweatpants (both black, thankfully) that he borrowed from Mobius, he brushes his teeth with a spare toothbrush.

Then, Mobius manages to talk him into eating something and having a cup of herbal tea (camomile), even though it ruins the point of the aforementioned toothbrushing.

What would he not do to appease Mobius and keep him from worrying? Loki prefers not to know.

They retire to bed soon after that, tangling together under Mobius’ fluffy comforter. Loki’s about to fall asleep, lulled by the repetitive motion of Mobius’ fingers running lines on his back, when Mobius speaks:

“I… I know I should let you rest before broaching this topic but… I won’t be able to think about anything else all night if I don’t ask…”

Loki’s tempted to tell him to spit it out, but he refrains, letting Mobius continue at his own rhythm.

“The other me… is he the one who, you know… the bruises?”

“No. He wasn’t particularly nice, but he was never outright cruel to me.” That much could not be said about many other agents of the Alternate-TVA, but Loki refuses to get into that. “Nevertheless, he was… wrong in so many ways.”

Mobius’ hand stops moving up and down his back.

“How so?”

“He was... different. He hated Josta, he didn’t care about jet skis, he was right-handed… He was cold, warier of me than you were, and a bigger stickler for the rules. He… he just wasn’t you.”

His Mobius was everything this other Mobius wasn’t to Loki. He was trustworthy. He brought him hope. Because he had seen Loki, he knew almost everything that could be known about him, and still he believed he could be someone good. The other Mobius had not witnessed any of Loki’s numerous lies and betrayals, and still he trusted him far less than his Mobius did despite every piece of evidence proving he should not.

Loki can’t comprehend the undeserved trust Mobius has for him, but he is grateful it exists.

“He sounds like a jackass.”

Loki lets out a teary laugh.

“He was. Thank you for rescuing me from him.”

“You’re very welcome. I needed it as much as you did, anyway.”

“You’ll tell me how you did it, right? Tomorrow?”

“Anything you want”, Mobius says for the second time that day.

And, by the Norns, does Loki want. He wants so much.

He raises his head from Mobius chest and places his lips on his. He keeps it brief, pulling back before Mobius has time to react. The line is crossed, annihilated. What can Loki say? He’s never been good at denying himself what he wants.

“Was that okay?”

Mobius exhales slowly, his body going lax after tensing up from the surprise.

“More than.”

“Good.”

They stop talking, then. Loki falls asleep in a matter of minutes, hopeful for the first time since Sylvie pushed him through a time-portal to get rid of him. Things are still a mess, but there’s a slight chance they’re going to be fine and, for now, that’s enough.

*

Thanks for reading ;

[kattwritesuwu]

Can I request a Clingy!monsterTom x Depressed!Reader? Maybe with cutting and suicidal thoughts?

I sure can!!! I LOVE angst!!!!!

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

Fandom: Eddsworld

Character: Tom

Reader: Depressed

Fic type: Comfort/angst

Warnings: TRIGGER WARNING: This WILL heavily mention suic/de, blood, and perhaps other triggering topics, read at your own risk!!

Notes: People, I'm not trying to make depression and similar illness romantic, this is simply for comfort.

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I hate everything.

Well, not everything, but the majority, y'know? Everything just...sucks. Life in general, it's all terrible.

People are terrible. Sure, I've found a few choice people that aren't the bane of my existence, but even they have their flaws.

Am I saying that I'm some heaven sent angel? Hell no I'm not. I'm just as terrible if not more! I hate everyone, including myself.

Am I lying? Yeah. Do I have a crush on someone? Yeah. Am I gonna do something about it? Nope.

Why should I? It's not like I'll be here longer anyways...

I'm planning to kill myself.

Am I scared? Kind of. But at this point I don't care. I'm always scared anyways. Always on my guard around people.

Most people don't know the fear and pain of constantly feeling...numb.

It's not like I never feel anything, it's just so rare. My most common emotion is pain. I just want to curl up in a ball and die. But all I can ever being myself to do is cry, and even that's a rare occurrence at this point.

I feel so alone.

Friends? Yeah I have a few.... they're all a bit odd in their own way. Can't complain though, they're like family to me.

My real family? Not many immediate ones, plus, I moved to England five years ago. They called me everyday for the first couple of months. Nowadays, I can barely get a text back... I get that they have their own lives in their respective country, but man, it just makes me so cold-feeling...

I guess where I was going with this, is that I'm scared. Not of my inevitable death, but everything else.

I'm scared of anything and everything now that I think about it. I don't exactly mean common fears they talk about in elementary school, I'm talking real world problems.

I'm scared of failure, not sure why. I've failed enough in my life....it shouldn't even faze me at this point.

Im especially scared of people.

My friends? Yeah them too. What if I make a fool of myself and they think I'm an idiot? What if I make the wrong move, and they hate me? They probably hate me enough as it is...

That why I won't confess to Tom. He'll hate me afterwards. There's just no point in ruining something for nothing in return.

These were the thoughts that ran through my head as my arms and legs were sliced up by a blade driven by my own hands. It's wasn't like it hurt. All it really did was sting, I'm just that used to being hurt, I suppose.

As I was wrapping up my little 'session' I heard a knock on my door,

"(Y/N)! You in there? It's dinner time! I made breakfast for dinner!" A British accent leaked through my door.

I didn't scramble around at the thought of him walking in, my door was locked after all. It's not like I'm that stupid.

" I'll be there in a few minutes, Edd." I spoke back in a raspy voice, not bothering to yell. Edd has good ears, he can somehow hear a whisper from across the house.

It takes me a minute or two to get up and walk into the bathroom that connects to my room. I stumble a bit with the loss of blood.

Once I get in there I take a quick shower, just barely long enough to stop the bleeding and make it appear as if you just took an actual shower.

Once I get out of the shower, I slip on my (favorite color) hoodie.

That was an easy part of hiding my self abuse. Everyone in the house wore a hoodie of their own designated color.

I also slipped on a longer article of clothing to go onto my legs. Couldn't let them see my thighs either.

Once I finished the rest of my cleaning up, I headed out of my little bathroom, and in front of my door. I took a deep breath, put on a smile, and walked out.

I got about halfway down the stairs before a screech startled me, causing me to trip a bit,

" (Y/N) IS HERE! YAY!" The high pitch British scream could only belong to the narcissistic ginger known as Matt.

Once I got my balance back into my feet, I continued down the stairs and greeted Matt with a wave.

" Yeah she lives here, idiot. She's not going anywhere." A deeper voice had spoken, I turned around and Tom was there as expected. I smile shrunk a bit at his last comment.

" Sup (y/n)." You snapped out of your thoughts and responded with a casual 'yo.'

The three of us then heard a thick accent cursing in the kitchen, no doubt it was Tord,

" For jævla skyld! Just let me have the last piece!!"

Sure enough, when we walked into the kitchen, Edd and Tord were fighting over the last piece of bacon. I let out a sigh, and the two boys finally acknowledged our existence. That alone didn't stop their argument though.

I didn't even bother attempting to break up the fight, I never could anyways. Their little fuss always ends one of two ways. Edd steals the bacon from under Tord's nose, or vise versa.

I just grabbed a small portion of food, and sat down.

I knew I would be gone by the end of tonight...but I wanted to taste Edd's cooking one last time.

Something interesting happened, instead of one of the two boys getting the bacon, they halved it and sat down. Of all my four years living in this house with these people, they've never shared their bacon.

Strange.

Dinner wasn't as talkative as it usually was when we all ate at the table. Usually we'd all have a big group discussion about our day, or week. Tonight was quiet, giving me an opportunity,

" Hey, guys?" Each one of their heads turned to me, and Edd signalled me to continue,

" I just wanted to say, thank you." Their brows furrowed but I held out a hand to tell them to let me finish,

" You four have helped me with so much over the past few years. From when you let me live here when I couldn't find proper housing situations, to letting me borrow the car. I just wanted to formally tell you all how grateful I really am. You are truly the kindest people I've ever met." As I went on talking, I realized how bad of an idea this actually was.

I mean, will they get suspicious? I'm just showing gratitude right? It shouldn't sound like a cry for help or anything...

As I snapped out of thought for the fiftieth time today, I notice that all of the boys have some type of smile on their face, even Tom!

Edd was smiling like a proud mother,

Matt was smiling giddily,

Tord had a smug, 'cool guy' smile,

And Tom had the smallest smile that made my heart melt.

I awkwardly continued my fake smile, and sat down.

Conversation continued on as would on a normal night, with the topic being past pleasant memories.

I volunteered to wash the dishes, it was the least I could do. There was only one problem. For some ungodly reason, Tom had insisted on helping me.

I couldn't figure out why at first, untill it dawned on me that he probably needed something from me.

So as I scrubbed the forgetten food off of the ceramic plate, he rinsed and dried them. We did this in silence, aside from the running water. Tom's the first one to break the tension filled silence,

" So, how have you been?" It was such a simple question, I could have simply faked a toothy grin, and said that I was great. I could have thanked him for asking. I could have asked him back.

But I only did one of those things.

" I've been doing just as good as I always do." I reply with a small sad smile. I tear my eyes away from the dish water," How about you? You've been awfully quiet tonight."

He chuckles lowly," Just had a lot on my mind, trying to face some of my problems, that's all." I stop what I'm doing and look over at him,

" Do you want to talk about it? I think the others are asleep already."

Normally when Tom is having any type of problem, he comes to me for advice, or even just for someone to listen to him rant when he's drunk. I even gave him a spare key to my room if he ever needs me while I'm asleep. He's offered the same for me, but I told him that I have a counselor. I try not to lie to my housemates all the time, only when necessary.

He simply shakes his head in response," Nah, this is one I have to deal with on my own," I sigh,

" Alright then, but keep my offer in mind. Just try to remember to see me before I go to bed, I'm...going to bed early tonight. I have something to do tommorow." He nods in understanding.

After we finish the dishes, we say our goodnights,

" I'll see you in the morning, (y/n)." I give one last fake smile,

" Same to you, Tom. Sleep well." I see him nod and walk down the hall as I close my door and lock it for the final time.

I walk into my bathroom and look into the mirror. All I see is a monstrosity of a person glaring back at me.

The bags under my eyes had only gotten worse after the sleepless nights I spent writing my suicide note.

I decided to skip reading over it one last time, I want nothing that could alter my decision at hand here. If I read my dying love letter that's written to Tom, I might stop myself in some kind of silly hope that everything could be okay again. It was too late for all that now.

So, I grabbed my blade that had served me well over the years, and stepped into the bathtub. I didn't cry, I didn't shake in fear of what I was about to do. I sadly smiled instead. As I took my hoodie off, revealing a tank top that no one knew I owned. I set my hoodie softly onto the floor, and turned on the hot water.

I took a deep breath in, and sigh, grabbing my blade and getting to work on my first artery. It took me a couple tries to find it.

But once I did, it started the red tint in the once clear bath water. I took in a shaky breath, adjusting to the dizziness of loosing so much blood so quickly.

At this point I couldn't even hear the bathwater running, everything was muffled.

I reached to turn it off, and a hand was placed onto mine. It takes me a good second to register that there was someone next to the tub, yelling my name right next to my face.

I try my best to focus on who could have caught me. Yet it's so difficult to take in my surroundings at this point.

So as I stare at the person beside my bathtub with fading eyes. I feel pressure on my wound, and see something being wrapped around it.

I start panicking, trying to say no, to let me die.

But I just can't. I just watch as my life is saved against my will.

Suddenly I can see that I'm moving, I can't figure out how until I notice the arms carrying me bridal style to a soft surface. That's when I lost consciousness for the next hour.

I didn't exactly 'wake up' more like fazed into existence. It's like I just gradually became aware of what was around me.

I became aware of the sobs coming from my bedside, and of the pressure squeezing my hand.

I forced my eyes open and tried to sit up. Yet I instantly regretted my decision, pain shot throughout my body. I glance over to my hand and up the....purple arm....

Who is this? Or perhaps I should say, what is this?

It's some kind of...monster? Hybrid? It looked kind of human... I could only see the torso and up. Even then, the arms grew bigger the farther down the arms stretched, and turned a deeper and deeper shade of purple. Horns poked out of the head laying slightly onto my shin, poking me a bit.

" Am-" I hold my throat. That hurt. I clear my throat of the mucus and start again as the unknown monster wakes up,

" Am I dead?"

The monsters head shoots up, and I can't help but recognize the 'eyes' that I've grown to love.

" T-Tom..."

He tries to smile for me, but it twists into a sad frown as his black orbs start to water,

" (Y/n)....(y/n) you're...y-you're okay! You're okay..." He said this over and over again as he cupped my cheeks with his transformed hands.

I grab onto his forearm to steady his shaking. This was starting to scare me.

I had never seen this man shed a tear in front of me, yet alone bawl into my shoulder like he was doing now,

" Tom, it's okay, I'm right here." I whispered this, and many other reassurances into his ear. Confirming to him that it was going to be okay and that, to my displeasure, I wasn't going anywhere.

He seemed to get angry after a few minutes, he ripped himself away from me and took hold of my shoulders,

" WHAT IF YOU WEREN'T RIGHT HERE? WHAT IF I HADN'T OF WALKED IN!! WHAT THEN HUH? YOU WOULDN'T BE RIGHT HERE!!! YOU'D BE GONE!! I would have...lost you..." He slid down the side of my bed as he finished his outburst. He sat crying into his knees.

I didn't know what to do. Is he mad at me? But despite the questions, I acted without thinking.

I began to run my fingers through his hair, almost brushing it. He seemed surprised at first, before he leaned into my touch.

" I'm sorry Tom. I didn't think it would effect you like this..." All was silent for a few moments. Until,

" Why..?" He sniffled a few times before I could respond.

" Why? Why what?" He looked up to me,

" Why would you try to leave me?" I couldn't even bring myself to say anything after that. Tom seemed to sense the frog in my throat, and continued,

" You don't realize, (y/n). You don't realize how special you are. To your family, your friends. I mean bloody hell (y/n)! What about us?! Edd would be heartbroken! And how are we supposed to explain something like that to Matt?" I avoided the possible eye contact and twidled my thumbs in my lap,

" What about me (y/n)? How am I supposed to go on living with myself if you, the love of my life, killed herself?" My mind went blank. He took my hand in between both of his,

" I know this isn't the greatest time for this, but if it'll boost your self esteem even a little bit, I don't care about embarrassing myself. (Y/n) (L/n), I am deeply in love with you, and have been since you moved in. I've loved you since you helped me to bed when I came in drunk all those years ago. I've loved you since you beat my Pac-Man score at the arcade, I acted so mad, but you were just so cute so excited like that... (Y/n)... Please let me help you love yourself by loving you..."

By the time he was done with his speech, I was in tears, a small frown on my face. He seemed to get the wrong idea as he instantly dropped my hand and got up,

" I got the message, I'll just uhm... I'll just g-" I grabbed his hoodie strings and pulled him in for a kiss.

We could both tell that there would be many more to come.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I'm sorry if it's extremely long, I just love to write angst haha...

[ashesandhackles]

More of where Snack came from

This is what happens when you discuss narrative parallels between them and end up creating scenes during the conversation. @thedreamermusing wrote the Sirius parts, while I wrote the Snape ones.

Here is a little AU, where Sirius lives at the end of Order of Phoenix.

When Sirius sees Lily's patronus--beautiful and graceful and almost forgotten in the years in Azkaban -- landing in the kitchen of Grimmauld place, he's mystified, remembering when James saw it for the first time. 'We're made for each other,' he'd said, spinning Lily around in his arms. Sirius reverently reaches out an arm to touch it. And then---'Black,' a silky voice made of grease and cold water says. 'Your godson is of the opinion that you aren't uselessly hiding away in your mother's house and somehow thinks that you're with the Dark Lord. Do try to prove him wrong and stay where you are.' As the patronus fades away, the only thought left in Sirius's mind is 'Motherfucker'.

..

Snape always wondered if his life was an elaborate joke. It was humiliating enough, revealing his Patronus to Black, of all people. He was dreading stepping foot in the house. It was amazing - how showing that vulnerable part of himself, that part he asked Dumbledore to swear no one must know, makes him feel like a teenager again. Powerless. Anxious. Twitchy. This is all the fault of that stupid boy - if he didn't prize that connection of his, if he had heeded what was said, he would not have been in this position. It's only luck that no one got killed for his stupidity. Luck favours everyone but him, apparently.

To Snape's horror, he was early at the headquarters. Black was sitting at the long table, reading a letter. He stilled when he entered. "Snape" Black acknowledged gruffly, without looking up. He didn't deign to respond. It was a trap - whatever it was. He wondered when that ridiculous woman would come and knock over the umbrella, so that the entire house is filled with Black's delightful mother's shrieks. There was an uncomfortable silence, broken by Black looking up at him. "So....Evans?"

Snape's insides were glacial. Don't react, don't react, don't react. He used her maiden name to get a rise out of you .. lull you into a false sense of security...

It seemed that Black was amused by his inability to respond. This made him angry. "Well, it turns out I no longer doubt your alliegances" he continued. "So what's in it for you Snivellus? Revenge?"

Snape raised his eyebrows. "Spare me your curiosity. You know as well as I do that I have no inclination to chat with you". "But I want to chat with you" Black smirked. "You see, I want to make sense of this". Snape reached for the handle of his wand instinctively. "Contrary to whatever you may believe, Black, you are not entitled to any answers and certainly not from me".

"When did you turn spy?" Black asked abruptly. "Were you the one who told Dumbledore that there was someone close to us who had betrayed us?"

Snape said nothing. He would give nothing to Black, no information about that hideous year spent fearing for her life and his own, tangled in loyalties he knew not where. "I am going to take that as a yes" Black said, his grey eyes boring into him. "Why did you do it? What really made you turn?"

"Shut up" he hissed, finally drawing his wand and flicking it into his most useful spell, Langlock. No one can know. No one, he remembered telling Dumbledore.

Black stopped speaking as his tongue got stuck to the roof of his mouth. He looked furious as he whipped out his own wand. The Order filed in just then - all looking unsurprised to see them both pointing their wands at each other. "Sirius, please" the werewolf implored. Black looked up at him angrily, but his jinx rendered him unable to say whatever was on his mind.

For the first time since he stepped into the house, the anxiety in Snape's chest eased a bit. He still had power. He was no longer that young boy - no longer. "Unfortunately for us, Black wouldn't be gracing us with his remarkable wit today," he said, stuffing his own wand back into his robes. The werewolf glared at him. He sneered. "It's quite alright, not like he has been upto anything useful recently - apart from not getting lured into the Ministry to run after his idiot of a godson. And we don't want endless reminisces of that, do we?"

..

'Fucking Snivellus,' Sirius thought furiously, hardly listening to the Order meeting. It burned--burned him to think he owed his and Harry's life to the greasy bastard, that he'd listened to the warning and stayed put, that Harry and his friends were apprehended before they went on to make a tragedy of things at the Ministry. He never would have thought Snape would be capable of such depth of emotion, that he felt so deeply for Lily. He'd known of course that they were friends of a sort in their initial years at Hogwarts, something James railed about constantly back then. But he'd never considered it important, thought Snape was a bit of a charity case for Lily. But he should have known better; Lily wasn't one to make friends out of charity. She'd seen something in him evidently, something they had all missed.

And yet, none of them had seen anything in Peter.

Sirius glares at Snape, who continues to glare back. 'Fucking greasy bat. Why couldn't you just be an enemy?' To think that Sirius had gotten it all so wrong about Peter, his brother in all but blood, the boy he'd patiently tutored through the animagus transformation, the boy who he would have died for while Snape, fucking Snivellus Snape, would end up being loyal to a friend who'd cut him off years earlier, would switch sides and save Sirius's life even--it's funny really. He's tempted to laugh, laugh like a maniac, at the absurdity, the injustice, out of grief--let out all his curled up emotions in a big hearty laugh. But then again, that hadn't worked out so well for him 15 years ago. So the only thing he can do is glare at Snape. But the familiar hatred is more unsettling now than comforting.

..

Snape couldn't help but stiffen at the prickly sensation of being watched during his meeting report. He knew without really looking that it was Black - Black trying to fish out his truth with his grey eyes, truth that he is not willing to give to him. He would leave immediately after the meeting - perhaps ask Dumbledore whether he could just give his reports in person, in his office, rather than bother coming to Headquarters. After all, the Order is hardly a democracy with Dumbledore controlling what information gets presented in his report and what remains between them. What's the difference? It's not a good idea anymore to come here. And Black will surely be prepared for his jinx next time - he can't be stupid enough to hope he will get him to shut up everytime.

So when the meeting got over, he jumped to his feet, ready to escape, when a thin hand gripped his shoulder. Snape turned around, pulling out his wand and wasn't surprised to find it pointed at Black's face.

A small, teenage part of him wanted to yell, leave me alone!

"Easy" Black said, quietly. He made no move to take out his wand. It could perhaps be the werewolf close by, watching them. "I want answers. I am grateful you saved Harry's life- and if I hadn't known what I know about you now, I would have not thought too much about this. But I want to know, Snape. I want to know what happened before they died. I want to know how many other transgressions I should be killing Wormtail for".

Snape took in the look on his face. "You want me to help with murder? Great idea Black, since I was on receiving end of your clever jokes-"

"You don't want to kill him?" Black interuppted, raising a disbelieving eyebrow. "You wanted to get me Kissed by Dementors because you thought I killed her and now-"

"I can't kill him!" Snape hissed at him.A twisted truth came tumbling out of him. He wanted to - oh, he wanted to. He went on: "Unfortunately for you, not every fight is won by smashing your way in like a moronic Gryffindor - there are things only I can do and I don't intend to put myself in any position that is dangerous to the cause".

There was a silence. "Fair enough. " Black said, stepping back. Snape thought it was safer to put his own wand back into his pocket now. "You don't kill him" Black simply said. "You help me find him".

Snape looked at him in utter disbelief. He couldn't believe him ."Didn't you just hear me? I am not risking blowing my cover. There will be a time for that and an opportunity will arise - he is no longer useful to the Dark Lord. But I don't want any eyes on me and certainly not for your schemes. Get your wolf to do it for you - at least he can plead temporary insanity".

"Leave him out of it" Black said harshly, glancing at him sitting close by. "Too late for that, isn't it?" Snape said, softly. "You involved him in the first place. What's the matter? These are your rules, I am just playing by them".

Black looked like he was praying for patience before he said what he did next. "I don't suppose you will tell me about that year". Snape sneered at him. "No, I won't. Now, goodbye Black " he whipped out of the headquarters, hoping he'd never have to step foot in it again.

.

Remus approached Sirius, a little amused. "Well, that went well. " Sirius shrugged. "I suppose. I still need him to tell me about Peter". Remus' eyes were cold. "You think he would help us?"

"He has to," Sirius said flatly. "After what Peter did to Harry in the graveyard, I am going to kill him with my bare hands if I have to".

Now if anyone wants to make this full fledged AU where they all corner Wormtail and revise their traumas and deep projections in the process, feel free to continue. XD

[openheart12]

Heal

A/N: Set during The Conjuring 3. Also contains dialogue from the movie.

Summary: Lorraine is by Ed’s side throughout his entire time at the hospital.

WC: 2,830

It had been hours since Ed had been taken to the hospital after the exorcism at the Glatzels where he had been gasping for air on the floor, his pulse weak and barely there. 

The waiting was torturous for Lorraine, concern and fear had taken over her entire body. She barely acknowledged Judy when she arrived, not even knowing she had been called. She assumed it was Father Gordon who made the call, but she was grateful. Her daughter was the only other person who could comfort her besides Ed. 

The three of them sat on one of the hospital benches, it was cold and hard and left Lorraine’s back aching. She was trying to be strong, for herself, for Judy, for her husband. Almost thirty years of history was replaying in her head. She both welcomed and hated the memories. 

They reminded her of what she had and what she might be losing. 

She unconsciously played with the rosary wrapped around her hand as she prayed for Ed’s health and safety. She’d plead with the devil himself if that’s what it took. 

“Mrs. Warren,” the doctor called as Lorraine shot to her feet. “He’s stabilized. We’re gonna transfer him to the coronary unit.”

“So, it was a heart attack?” Father Gordon asked the dreaded question. 

“Yes,” the doctor confirmed. “And not a minor one, I’m afraid.” Lorraine’s shoulders visibly sagged. Oh what she wouldn’t give to trade places with him right now. 

“Can we see him now?” Judy asked.

“Not yet. We’re gonna put a stent into his artery, try to get blood flowing back to his heart.”

Lorraine had been quiet, taking in the information about her husband intently, trying to hold her tears at bay. Exhaling, she tried to steady her voice before asking, “so, is he gonna be alright?”

“We’re gonna need to run a few more tests before I’m comfortable answering that. I’m sorry,” the doctor said before leaving. 

Lorraine turned to Judy who had tears in her eyes and pulled her in for a hug, taking comfort in her.

“It’s okay, mom,” she whispered, hoping that it would be. Judy knew this would absolutely destroy her mother, if he wasn’t okay, especially since she was there when it had happened and would no doubt blame herself. 

Lorraine held onto her tightly as tears silently streamed down her face until she abruptly pulled back, wiping her cheeks with her sleeve. 

“I need… I have… I’ll be right back,” she stammered, running off to the nearest bathroom she could find, emptying the contents of her stomach in the toilet. 

She took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves. He was alive. He was breathing and she couldn’t ask for much more, but seeing him laying on that floor, it replayed through her head. If she had gotten to him sooner maybe there was something she could’ve done. The what ifs were just as bad as the memories haunting her. 

She splashed some water on her face, begging her mind to just stop. Stop thinking, stop churning. She headed back out to the waiting area where she found Judy waiting for her who told her that Father Gordon had to leave but he would be back to check on him. She took a seat beside her daughter who laid her head on her shoulder and Lorraine grabbed her hand, squeezing it in support. 

When they were finally able to go back to Ed’s room, her breath hitched upon seeing him lying there in the hospital bed, different tubes and wires connected to him. The color had returned to his face, but he still looked weak. 

She stood in the doorway, taking in the sight of him for a few minutes. She was afraid to get close to him at first, in fear that this was some cruel dream and when she’d wake up, he wouldn’t be there anymore. Tentatively, she made her way towards him and placed a kiss to his forehead as she grabbed his hand, rubbing small circles on his skin. She sat down in the chair beside the bed and just watched the rhythmic fall and rise of his chest. 

Judy watched her mom, noting how tense and afraid she looked. Ever since she was a little girl, she always watched her parents. She saw the love and adoration they had for each other and the different ways they showed it. She grew up in a house full of love, she was always surrounded by love; the love her parents had for her and each other. She couldn’t remember a time where they even so much as argued, at least not in front of her, and it made her want a relationship just like theirs.

It was remarkable really, the amount of love and happiness that was in the Warren household considering what her parents did as a living, where they were constantly surrounded by horrible things, but they always managed to keep it out of their lives at home. 

And right now, it had never been more clear to see the love her mom had for her dad and it was evident in her actions since he had been admitted. But Judy could see the toll it was taking on her, she was exhausted and the bags under her eyes were already beginning to worsen. 

“I’m going to get some coffee, do you want some?” She asked softly.

“No, I’m good, thank you,” Lorraine smiled half-heartedly. 

After Judy left, Lorraine turned her attention back to her husband. Her eyes began to grow heavy and she decided to close them for a few minutes, resting her head on the bottom half of his legs as sleep overtook her exhausted body.

Judy came back to the room to find Lorraine fast asleep and decided to head to the house to pick up a few things, asking the nurses to call if anything happened while she was gone before leaving. 

An hour passed when Lorraine was woken up by a knock on the door and she turned to see Father Gordon walk into the room.

“It was nice seeing Judy again. Will she be staying long?”

“I don’t know, um, it depends if…” she trailed off, looking at Ed.

“The nurse says that you have been sleeping in that chair. Ed would understand if you went home for a little while.”

“Did I ever tell you the story of how we met?” She asked, changing the topic away from her. 

“No, I don’t think so. Just that you were young. In high school, wasn’t it?” 

“Yeah,” she said smiling, “we were seventeen. I went out with my girlfriends and he was an usher at the movie theater that we went to. Afterwards, we went out for ice cream. He took me out to the park, but then it started to rain. And we stood under the gazebo until it stopped. That was thirty years ago. I could go back to the house, Father, but my home is here with him.”

Father extended her stay to about thirty more minutes, making light conversation with Lorraine as she talked about memories that were so near and dear to her heart and her spirits were raised a little bit. But when he left and she was alone with Ed again, her mind started to spin again. She was grateful for the time she had to herself, just being in his presence brought about a peace within her storming head. 

Judy made her return a few minutes later, she had gone by the house earlier to pick up some clothes for both Ed and Lorraine and some toiletries they might need with his stay in the hospital, however long it was going to be. 

The two of them sat in silence while each holding one of his hands, Lorraine didn’t even remember falling asleep until she heard her name being called multiple times. 

“Lorraine. Lorraine. Lorraine,” she heard someone calling her voice weakly, waking her from her slumber. 

“Daddy!” Judy called out, jolting Lorraine from her seat as Judy pressed the button to alert the hospital staff. 

“Oh, Ed, thank God.” She cupped his face in her hands, stroking his cheek gently.

“Lorraine,” he tried again, “you have to call the Glatzels.”

“She just called, you’re fine-”

“The Glatzels. We have to warn them, it’s got the kid.”

“No, it’s fine, it’s over. David is safe, the demon is gone.”

“Arne. It’s got Arne!” He said as her eyes widened in realization. 

Lorraine went to the first phone she could find, dialing the local police. “This is Officer Thomas,” someone answered. “My name is Lorraine Warren. I know how this is going to sound, but there’s going to be a tragedy at the Brookfield Boarding Kennels.”

All they could do now was wait. Ed was in no position to handle this case right now and Lorraine wasn’t going to leave his side when he needed her the most. 

When she walked back into his room, the doctor was in there checking him out and going over some medications he wanted Ed to take, starting with nitroglycerin, a type of vasodilator to help with increasing the blood and oxygen supply to his heart. The doctor left after saying he would send the prescription to be filled and they could pick it up in a couple hours. 

“How are you feeling, hon?” She asked, moving to sit on the edge of his bed.

“Tired,” he replied as he yawned. “What did the police say?”

“They’re going to send a car over there to check it out.”  

“That’s not sufficient,” he argued.

“It’s out of our hands now, Ed. You need to rest.” He took a few deep, calming breaths before letting out another yawn. She leaned over and planted a kiss on his forehead before starting to stand up when he reached out and grabbed her hand, stilling her movement. She raised her brow, asking a silent question.

“There’s enough room for both of us,” he said slyly, moving over to make room for her as he patted the now vacant space next to him. 

“Ed,” she laughed, “I am not sleeping with you.” 

“Please,” he insisted, tugging her arm so that she was closer. “I don’t bite… unless you’re into that.”

“Ed!” She laughed, swatting his arm playfully. 

“Come on, I’m tired and I can’t sleep without you. Remember our ‘never sleeping apart’ promise?”

“You’re impossible,” she said, rolling her eyes playfully before relenting and climbing into the bed next to him. He wrapped one arm behind her back, resting on her waist as his other rested on his chest. She nuzzled into his side, placing one hand across his chest over his heart so she could feel his heartbeat. 

“Love you,” he whispered, kissing her temple before drifting off to sleep. 

“I love you,” she whispered back, relishing in the feel of his arms around her, something she feared wouldn’t be possible again. 

She was awoken an hour later by the nurse who said she had a phone call. She carefully slid out of Ed’s embrace, trying not to wake him and made her way to the nurses station where she picked up the phone, “hello?” She answered. 

“Lorraine, it’s Father Newman. Arne is being brought to the prison, he killed someone and I need you and Ed here as soon as possible.”

“I’m afraid that’s not possible, Father. Ed had a heart attack and he’s in the hospital. The doctor said he needs to take it easy so we might have to take a step back from this case,” Lorraine explained, feeling guilty. 

“I understand, but maybe even if you could just come and talk to Arne, see if he was possessed or not would be extremely helpful.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” she said before hanging up the phone with a sigh. She wanted to help Arne, but with Ed’s health, she didn’t think it would be possible. She headed back to his room where she found him awake and seemingly waiting for her.

“Where’d you go?” He asked.

“Father Newman called, he said that Arne murdered someone and they need to find out if he was possessed when he did it, but I told him we might have to stop working on the case until you’re better.”

“We can’t do that, Lorraine. It’ll be too late by then.”

“Then it’ll be too late. You’re in no position to be working on a case right now anyways. The doctor said you need to rest and you don’t need to put any extra stress on your body which is exactly what taking on this case would be doing.”

“But-”

She cut him off, “no, Ed. I’ll go to the prison in a little while to check on him myself, but I’m not risking your health.”

“Lorraine, he needs our help,” he said, slightly raising his voice. 

“No.” 

“We promised to help the family and we don’t break promises,” he tried reasoning with her.

“No.” She said, her answer remaining the same.

“Dammit, Lorraine, will you stop being selfish for a minute and think of what this poor boy is going through,” he said harshly, instantly regretting the words as soon as they left his mouth. He didn’t mean them, he was angry and frustrated at the situation at hand, but he didn’t mean to take it out on her. 

“You could’ve died!” She shouted, her voice breaking. She turned her back to him, wrapping her arms around herself as tears slid down her cheeks at a rapid pace. She had never cried so much in one day before and she hated it. 

He had no doubt she had sat by his side the entire time he was in the hospital, she was there as soon as he woke up and guilt was already eating away at him. He could only imagine how scared she must’ve been, he remembered seeing the fear in her eyes as he laid on the ground earlier and she was probably exhausted, much like he was already. 

“I’m sorry, hon, I didn’t mean that,” he apologized. “Lorraine… look at me, please. I’m sorry,” he repeated, making an effort to get out of the bed to go to her. 

“Do-don’t get out of bed,” her trembling voice said. She sniffed a few times, cleared her throat and turned around towards him and the sight that met him made a lump rise in his throat. Her eyes were red and swollen with tear stains across her cheeks and her hair was coming out of the bun it had been in. 

She looked like she’d been to hell and back and he assumed that’s how she felt. He knew that’s how she felt and then he had to go and call her selfish after not doing anything to him. He felt like a complete asshole. 

“I-I’m sorry,” he repeated as his own tears filled his eyes. “I didn’t mean it,” he promised. 

“I’m just worried about you,” she said quietly.

“I know, sweetheart and I’m sorry for what I said.” He held out his shaking hand to her which she took and he pulled her close so she was standing next to the bed. She sat on the edge of the bed, looking into his eyes and she could see the remorse and it made her heart ache for him. She knew he didn’t mean it. 

“We’ll help him,” she said eventually.

“No, we don’t ha-”

“No, Ed, you were right. We made a promise and we don’t break them. But I’m not willing to let you put your health at risk either so you have to take it as easy as possible and you have to take the pills the doctor gave you.”

“I will, I promise.” 

“You will be staying here for the night though, no debating.”

“Yes ma’am,” he said with a small smile. He’d do anything for her and this was the least he could do after what he said. “I won’t even complain about the hospital food,” he said laughing.

“It’s not much better than when you cook at home,” she teased lightly.

“You’re gonna give me another heart attack,” he said, feigning hurt as he placed his hand across his chest. 

Laughing, she laid down next to him. “You’re lucky I love you.”

“Trust me, I know. I love you so much,” he said, turning to lay on his side as he placed his arm across her abdomen, pulling her closer by her waist. “I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he added.

“You’d probably starve to death,” she smiled against his neck, trying to conceal her laugh.

“Very funny,” he said, rolling his eyes. 

“It’s a good thing we won’t have to find out.”

“Indeed,” he agreed with a smile as they both laid in the bed, content with each other’s company and soaking in their time together. 

[unlucky-rubber-ducky]

Found

Obi-Wan Kenobi x Reader

3265 words

Summary/warnings: Not proofread. Sleep deprived writing. Mentions of injury and fighting and sadness and all that jazz. Post-Order 66, baby.

A/n: This one is definitely a ride. If not good, I hope it is at least entertaining. It was entertaining to write. Kinda sad. As always, please let me know if there’s anything I can edit to make the story more inclusive. Thank you for reading!

The annoyance you felt as you trudged out of the marketplace was… unmatched. This was certainly not the deal. You would help Sar’pah clean up the mess he had made, and in return he would get you off of Abafar. Of course, when you had said ‘off of Abafar’, you had meant somewhere with some semblance of civilization; something to blend into. Not another Maker-forsaken desert planet.

You should have known that a ‘pit-stop’ on Tatooine meant kicking the dangerous fugitive offboard, but seeing as how Sar’pah himself was a wanted man, you had hoped he would be a little more forgiving. He had landed in Bestine, asked you to go get a few items from the market, and flew off the moment you stepped off the walkway.

Kriffing fool doesn’t even know what kind of fugitive I am. Your trusting nature may have lost you a ride, but it certainly didn’t extend far enough that you told people why you were on the run. You simply told them that working with you could be dangerous. It was up to them to decide if they wanted to take that risk.

Too many would love the reward a Jedi would bring them. And dammit, if you were going to be brought down by the Empire, it certainly wasn’t going to be for anyone else’s gain. So, here you were, stuck on another desert planet. One ruled by the Hutts, no less. A few too many brushes with them, before and during the Clone Wars, had you very wary to make your presence known to them. So, you figured that at least until you had a ride offplanet, you should try your best to avoid bigger settlements. (Well, as big as settlements on Tatooine could get.)

Which brought you back to the current moment. Republic Credits had never meant much in the Outer Rim, but you had just enough to buy some water and an admittedly sickly looking Eopie. You hadn’t really bothered to check what direction you were setting off on, just picking the horizon that looked the least difficult to navigate with a large animal. It was also in the opposite direction of Mos Eisley, where you were quite sure a few old enemies resided. 

You refused to acknowledge it, but you could feel the Force pulling you west. You were sure many Jedi had taken solace in the Force after all they had lost, but all you felt was… betrayal. You were well aware the Order itself was corrupt, you didn’t deny that- but mass murder? The will of the Force was to kill some of its most loyal followers? You had witnessed its power. You couldn’t deny its existence. But you could deny its benevolence.

So you kept going with the suns in your eyes and told yourself it was logical to go west.

“Hey!” You ignored it. You didn’t know anyone here, surely they were calling for someone else. “Hello? Excuse me?”

You finally turned to see a blue Twi’lek jogging to catch up with your Eopie. Three years of being hunted had your instincts screaming at you to reach for your lightsaber, but the friendly (if panicked) smile on her face put you at ease enough to let her get close enough to explain herself.

“Can I help you, ma’am?”

“Oh you don’t have to be so formal! I’m Sasrula, just Sas if it’s easier, and if you’re willing, I could really really use some help right now.” You stopped your mount entirely, turning so the suns were at your back and the stranger couldn’t see your face. You examined her more closely, which you could tell was making her more nervous. “I just need to get out of here, somewhere a little more sparsely populated, and quickly, or else I wouldn’t be bothering you, but just since I’m pretty light and your Eopie could probably carry both-”

“You were enslaved?”

She looked down at herself, seemingly only now noticing the small bits of fabric she had been given as clothing. Before she could go on another rant, you gestured to the space behind you. 

“Hop on.” Before she could get any closer you help up your hand, stopping her in her tracks. “There’s a cloak and some water in the bag.”

 The animal beneath you protested, already struggling with your weight, but when you calmed it down enough, it began its slow progress. The first minute or so was silent, but Sasrula’s chatty entrance was an omen of the hours to come.

“Whatcha doin’ on Tatooine?”

“Passing through.”

You could sense the doubt that washed over her, and the suspicion that your lie brought onto you.

“Most people ‘passing through’ Tatooine don’t ride off into the desert.”

“I have never killed anyone that wasn’t about to kill me.” It didn’t… soothe her, but the blunt statement seemed to ease her enough into another topic of conversation. 

“...did you have a job before Tatooine?”

“Few years ago.”

“Spouse?”

“No.” It was too late, though. You had stiffened, and due to her close proximity, Sasrula easily picked up that there was more to that story than you were letting on. “He and I were never married.”

“Already have a wife then, did he?” You let out a puff through your nose.

“Something like that.”

There was a time you had resented Obi-Wan for inevitably choosing the Order over you. For leaving your quarters early in the morning, whispering empty promises of love and a happy future. Nowadays you would go to the ends of a universe just for one more moment with him. But you would never get that. Because even if Cody hadn’t been the one to kill him, and he had survived the initial execution, Obi-Wan was too courageous and too selfless and too reckless to have made it three years on the run. 

And if maybe you didn’t want to consider the idea that he hadn’t come looking for you like you had spent the first two years looking for him, you would never admit it to yourself. You weren’t sure you could survive that notion.

“Was he handsome?”

This was the most Sas had seen you emote in the little while you had now been together- she wasn’t letting your mystery man get away that easily.

“Like you wouldn’t believe.”

“Rich?” You laughed, and Sas felt just a bit of pride that she had eased you up.

“Hardly! The man never remembered to bring whatever money he did have, and I would constantly have to apologize to Dex-” You stopped yourself. No names. Don’t get familiar. “Dex was the owner of a greasy little diner.”

There was something… pleasant, about pretending that your relationship with Obi-Wan had been a normal one. There was no Jedi Council to answer to, no status to keep safe, nothing. Just you, a few memories, and an escaped Twi’lek full of questions and eager to fill the silence.

“...then, the kriffing bastard, he pushed me into his closet! Like whoever was coming in wasn’t gonna figure out something was amiss!” The giggle coming from behind you was loud, and you were glad to finally be sharing these stories with someone. 

“Oh no I entirely relate, there was a guy who- why’d you stop?”

You all but fell off of the Eopie, stumbling when you landed but quickly steady on your feet. Something felt very wrong, and you were quite sure that something was moving towards you very fast. While your hand first landed on your lightsaber, you made the decision to grab the blaster you had stolen from Sar’pah instead.

A distant cloud of dust, coming from the direction of Bestine, was moving… fast.

“How fast do sandstorms usually move?”

“Well, it depends on the pre-existing weather and geographical conditions, but they can go hundreds of miles an hour, it’s not pleasant-“ she finally turned to look at what was causing you to panic “dank farrik! That is not a dust storm!”

“Well what is it then?!”

“A lot of trouble!”

As you tried to pick out details of the approaching figures, a reflection of light let you know they were on speeders. A brief glance at the struggling eoipe let you know you wouldn’t be riding away from this, and the miles of flat desert around you hardly made for any good hiding spots.

“Are we sure it’s trouble?” You knew it was- another whisper from the Force that you were trying to keep unacknowledged. 

“Yeah. I had hoped he wouldn't notice I was missing till tomorrow.”

Now that’s just… great.

“Who is ‘he’?!”

“My previous captor. He’s, uh, not very forgiving.” Sas moved to get off of the animal, but you stopped her. “Listen, I appreciate your entrepreneurial spirit, but you’re not gonna get any money from him for my return, he’s just gonna kill you.”

“I’m not trying to get any money, you’re not going back.” The Twi’lek’s surprise was almost palpable. “At least, not while I’m standing.”

The cause of the dust cloud had gotten close enough that you could see four speeders drawing near. Three had large, intimidating riders, and the front one, the fanciest one, had a severe looking older man.

They slowed when they drew close enough, and the cold look in the man’s eyes told you everything you needed to know about him.

“I believe you’ve made off with something of mine.”

“You’ll have to enlighten me, sir.”

He paused for a moment, taking your protective stance and hood-covered face in.

“I’m not so sure I do, partner.”

“I haven’t stolen anything since I landed on your dustball of a planet.”

He snorted, still looking down on you from his position on his speeder.

“That,” he pointed at Sasrula, “is mine.”

“She is traveling with me. Has been for a while.”

“You can’t fool me, traveler. I know my own property. Don’t try to lie.”

You held your hands up in mock defeat.

“Hey, I never said exactly how long she had been with me. No lies have been told.”

“How long is this gonna go?”

“Till you either let us go, or are crushed under my boot.”

“Now, we both know that’s not gonna happen.”

In an instant you dropped to the ground, dodging blaster fire from four different directions. Even in the heat of the moment you were wary to reveal your past, so you pulled out your own blaster, desperately trying to get back on your feet whilst dodging dozens of blasts every moment. Once you finally had the chance to stand, you were able to get two of the larger men down.

It was a stressful situation, and once again you hated to admit it, but fighting felt… good. Not the chaos or death or injury of it, but the feeling of letting the Force guide your movements, feeling it flow around you and tell your limbs where to go.

Unfortunately, the method didn’t work when you were surprised out of your focus. And a cloaked figure coming out of seemingly nowhere and kicking the leader off of his speeder was enough to startle you.

You cursed as pain shot from your right shoulder, and it took everything in you not to drop to the ground. You shot the last of the body guards, and aimed at Sas’s captor, who laid in the cloaked man’s shadow. You paused when you felt a hand on your arm. You looked up to see Sasrula, who was looking at you with an unspoken request in her eyes.

You handed her the blaster and let her take the shot. You understood the desire.

Once he was dead on the ground, you turned towards the other presence, who had taken to watching your interaction with Sas. You couldn’t see his face under the hood of his cloak, and some part of you felt better knowing your face was likely just as concealed as his. 

“Thank you for the help!” Sasrula’s bright voice poked through the suspicious silence.

“It was no trouble at all.”

Your blood froze. You were almost certain you knew that voice.

“Take down your hood.”

“Excuse me? I-“

“Please just do it.”

You could see his shoulders stiffen, and you knew he recognized your voice. He lowered his hood. 

His eyes were the first thing you noticed. They were sad. The saddest they had ever been. And so tired. But there was a burning hope, a burning question, that you knew you needed to answer for him.

So you copied him, and dropped your hood.

“Hey, Obi.”

That was all it took for you both to take off in a sprint, clearing the few meters between you in less than seconds. You jumped and landed in his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist.

You buried your face in his neck, sobbing as you tried to get as close to him as you possibly could. He let out a disbelieving laugh, and you pulled back to get another look at his face. You placed your hands on his cheeks, brushing the stray tears that had fallen from his eyes.

“I thought you were dead, Obi.”

“I thought you were dead, little one.”

There was a part of you that expected him to push you away when you leaned in to kiss him. A part of you that still felt it needed to hide your relationship. 

Instead, you kissed him and all of your grief and anger and sadness and deep adoration and love were on display for him, and his for you.

You finally pulled back and stepped back down on the ground when someone cleared their throat from behind you.

“I’m assuming this is the handsome man from before?”

You blushed and looked at Obi-Wan, who raised an eyebrow at you.

“Yes, it is.” You reluctantly pulled out of Obi-Wan’s arms, taking a step back to look him over for injuries. “How long have you been here? How did you survive all of the slaughter? I heard you had killed Grievous but then there was so much chaos, and I made my way to Utapau just to be sure you weren’t there and-”

“You went to Utapau?! Darling, that was foolhardy and-” 

You took another step back.

“And?”

“And dangerous! I can only imagine that place is crawling with Imperials!”

“What was I supposed to do, Obi? Yours was the only face I cared to see, so I figured I’d start from the beginning.” Conflicting and powerful emotions caused more tears to fall from your eyes despite your best efforts. “What was I supposed to do?” It came out as a whisper, and you hated how broken you sounded. Suddenly you felt very tired, and the previously forgotten blaster wound on your shoulder was beginning to burn with pain.

“I had hoped that you would let me go.”

“Could you have?”

“What?”

“Could you have let me go?”

Obi-Wan didn’t answer immediately, and you had your answer. Suddenly all of the heartbreak and quiet crying in your quarters at the temple were worth it. The three years of not knowing if you were searching for a ghost, the sneaking suspicion that he hadn’t done the same for you.

Worth it.

“Can I stay with you?” You sounded like a child and you hated it, but now that you had him you weren’t sure you could let him go.

His continued silence turned your heart to ice. Perhaps he hadn’t looked for you because he was tired of you. Perhaps you misread the situation. Perhaps he could have let you go. 

“Have you had any run-ins with the Empire?”

“Nothing beyond what any other Jedi has encountered.” You heard Sasrula gasp, and you felt just a little bad that you had entirely forgotten she was there. “I’m sneaky, Kenobi. Surely you remember that.” The curious turn of conversation had you feeling just a little more stable. He did not, however, smile.

“I’m staying here. On Tatooine. For a long time.”

“You’re saying I can stay?”

“It’s not like I can kick you off the planet.”

The rush of relief was sudden, and altogether too much for you. That, combined with the rather serious wound you had yet to take care of; the exhaustion of the past few hours; and the hot sun, it’s really no surprise that you passed out.

“Oh dear.”

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

When you woke, you felt blessedly cooler. The bandage around your shoulder was soft, and the blankets you were wrapped in smelled like the desert and Obi-Wan, which calmed your initial alarm at waking in a foreign place. There were no windows in whatever room you were in, but the general darkness around you suggested it was nighttime. There was a doorway with just a curtain across it, from which you could hear quiet murmurs. Your sleep muddled brain told you to lay back down and close your eyes for just a little longer, but you were too curious to sleep any longer.

When you stood you realized you weren’t in your own shirt. It was much larger than your own, and a slightly different color. You were, however, still in your own pants. Which was very appreciated. You took a few steps before stumbling, still rather weak from the past few hours.

You weren’t noticed when you first stepped into (what you could only assume to be) the main room of Obi-wan’s home. Said man was currently bickering with Sasrula over how to prepare dinner, and if they should wake you up to eat. You were glad to see that the Twi’lek hadn’t run off, and you were even gladder to see Obi-Wan in a lighter mood.

You finally caught his eye when you moved further into the room, and he quickly moved to your side in order to help you to a make-shift dining room chair, kneeling in front of you. You sheepishly smiled at your two companions, who both returned your look with concern.

“I see you two have become pals.”

“I see why you spent three years without him. Your man is insufferable.”

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes, and you both tried to pretend like Sasrula calling him ‘your man’ didn’t affect you.

“You gave us a bit of a fright, my darling. I hadn’t even realized you had been hit.” He kissed you on the forehead. “I do hope you don’t mind that I took your shirt off in order to treat your wound.”

You shrugged.

“Nothing you haven’t seen before.”

If he wasn’t red from Sasrula’s earlier comment, he certainly was now.

The Twi’lek snorted and made her way to the kitchenette on the other side of the small space, taking her chance to prepare dinner her way.

“How long did I sleep for?”

“About two days. You left me alone with a stranger for two days.”

“That explains why you’re so chummy with Sas.”

He grimaced.

“Yes. I… don’t know that I’ve ever met such a talkative woman.”

“Giving Ahsoka a run for her money, hm?”

“Don’t remind me.”

You chuckled, and felt a warmth in your heart that you hadn’t felt since you and Obi-Wan were both Padawan’s and had the galaxy ahead of you. Except… this was different. You weren’t sure you could call it better. There was too much bloodshed and trauma for it to be better. But it was undoubtedly freer. 

“Does it make you uncomfortable to say that I love you?”

Obi-Wan smiled softly.

“Never.” He pressed his forehead to yours. “I love you deeply, little one.”