#this piercing is either irritated or infected and i don’t know

[formulapisces]

rant in the tags about my piercing situation right now - i’m learning that autistic sensory overload + health anxiety is a terrible combination

[crazyunsexycool]

Is it a crime?

Chapter 5

Pairing: Mob Boss!Bucky Barnes x Mob Boss!Reader

word count: 5.0k

warnings:Bucky being a bit of a simp, teeth pulling (just one), knife use, heavy petting (If I forgot something please let me know)

series masterlist

Ch. 4

7 years ago There have been too many close calls recently. Pierce’s men were coming out of the woodwork trying to track you down and take you back. This time one of them had found you as you finished a job. There were enough people that hated Pierce and would either look the other way when they saw you or gave you odd jobs. It was enough to keep money in your pocket and allow you to keep moving. You couldn’t settle in one place for too long like you had in the sleepy town you were currently leaving.  It’s how you ended up in the bathroom at a truck stop at 3:00 am cleaning up some wounds. The last guy Pierce sent out almost managed to knock you out but at the last second you got the upper hand. You were throwing away the used supplies when you heard footsteps behind you.

“Are you ok?” 

You looked up at the owner of the voice. “I’m fine.” You said, hoping the woman would leave you alone.

“You’re bleeding. Did someone hurt you? Do you need help?” 

“I said I’m fine.” 

“I can stitch up that wound.” She insisted.

You turn to look at her. She was tall with tanned skin and dark hair and she looked genuinely concerned for you. “Back off.” 

You threw everything in the trash can and walked out. She followed.

“Listen if that doesn’t get treated properly you can get an infection.”

You looked over your shoulder as you turned the corner to walk out of the bathroom. “I said back off. If you don’t then uff-“ you walked right into someone as you stepped out. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t see you there… Y/N?”

You looked up and you couldn’t believe your eyes. “Jake?” You reached out to touch him. Maybe you were dying and you were hallucinating or something. 

Jake pulls you in for a hug, a bone crushing hug that has you cry out in pain. He pulls back holding you at arms length as his eyes look you over. “What the fuck happened to you?”

“Jensen, you know her?” The woman that had followed you out asked. 

“Yeah, she’s my best friend.” 

“Are you two done? We’ve got to head out.” Someone else spoke but you were too wrapped up in finally having someone you knew close that you didn’t pay attention to them. 

“Hey are you with me?” 

“Yeah, it’s just- it’s been so long since I’ve seen a friendly face. I’m so fucking tired JJ.” 

He hugged you again, softly this time and you returned the hug. Silently Jake leads you to a canary yellow hummer limousine and at some other time you would have found it hilarious but you weren’t sure what was happening. Jake introduced you to his team.

“And you are?” 

“Clay this is Y/N Y/L/N.”

“The mob princess?” Roque asked

“I’m not a princess.” You snapped.

“Sorry, we’ve heard a lot about you.” He held his hands up defensively. “Mostly from this one.”

“She’s my best friend, we grew up together and we need to help her.”

“Jensen, we can’t. We’re going after Max. We have enough on our plate.” 

“I don’t need help.”

“Are you joking? Look at you.”

“It was just a job. I’m doing just fine on my own.” you scoff.

“Nothing to do with Pierce’s men going after you?” 

You averted your eyes. Jake had a way of reading you that rivaled Bucky. 

“How much longer can you stay alone on the road? They’re going to catch up to you sooner or later. Join us.” Jake offered without even asking the others.

“No way, we don’t know her.” Clay spoke up.

“If she can’t come with us then I’m out.” 

You sat on a chair across from who everyone has nicknamed fake Jake. The resemblance was uncanny and if you didn’t know Jake as well as you did you would have thought this was him. He had been there since the early hours of the morning but you had still been dealing with Tommy at the club. Now you were here on two hours of sleep and not enough coffee. It was the perfect mix to have you feeling irritated at the idiot in front of you. 

“So fake Jake, what is your boss up to?” you ask. 

“My name isn’t Jake.” 

“You’re tied to a chair in a warehouse and your main concern is us getting your name right.” Roque smacks him across the back of his head. “Answer her question.”

“I don’t know.” 

“Wrong answer.” 

“Were you going to do any other jobs for him?” you sigh. “Was Rumlow going to have you impersonate Jake again?” 

He doesn’t answer, instead you see his jaw move around. You narrow your eyes, it’s an odd movement and then you remember.

“Open his mouth right now!” Roque moves and grabs his face, forcing him to open his mouth. You grab a pair of pliers and a flashlight and turn it on to look into his mouth. 

He tried to move around to keep you away from what you inevitably found, a molar replaced with a single dose of cyanide. With the pliers you pulled until it was out. You inspected it and scoffed before setting it down on the table. Roque lets your guest’s face go as he inspects what you pulled from his mouth.

“What the hell is this princess?” Roque asked with a disgusted look on his face.

“Hydra’s insurance policy. It’s a cyanide capsule hidden under a fake tooth. All members are required to get one and if they’re caught by police or their enemies with no way out they’re expected to use them. It’s the same trick Pierce has had in his playbook for years.”

“You don’t have one of these do you.”

“Of course not. But it does let us know something important, isn’t that right fake Jake?” You look back at the man in front of you. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t know anything and if I did I wouldn’t tell you anyways. Pierce scares me but you’re just some little bitch playing pretend.” 

You smile as you get up and walk over to the table and grab some brass knuckles and a knife. Slipping them on your fingers and admiring them the same way you would a ring before walking back to the imposter. You connect your fist with his jaw, a grunt flying from his mouth. With a quick movement you drive the knife into his thigh and twist it. He yells a string of curses before looking up at you before you do it again. 

“You should be scared of me, who do you think taught me how to do this? And I’m so much worse than he is. Pierce is set in his ways and doesn't like change. With him you’d be dead by now, but we’re just getting started.” You smirk and punch him in the ribs. “Tell me what you know.” 

“I don’t know a lot.” 

You raised an eyebrow as you twirled your knife around. His chin trembled as his eye followed the movement. As you move to stab him again he fights against his restraints, so much so that he falls over.

“No, wait! Wait please. I’ll tell you.” 

You lower your hand and sit down.

“I want to know everything you do.”

“You can’t go in there without an appointment.” A petite blonde stood in front of you, her arms crossed. You thought it was cute that she believed that was enough to stop you from walking in. 

“Well, if you would have scheduled me in I wouldn’t have to barge into Stark’s office now would I?” 

You step around her, Jake following close behind looking a bit apologetic at Stark’s secretary. It might possibly cost her the job but you have more important things to worry about. You don’t knock instead just turning the doorknob and pushing it open. Inside you find Tony and Nat pressed up against each other. You smirked as they scramble to put some space in between them.

“Sorry, was I interrupting something?” 

“No.” Nat scoffs as she straightens herself up. 

“Well then you should let Tony’s dick know.” 

Tony does his best to hide the bulge in his pants before sitting down. He glares at you as he grabs his office phone and calls his secretary a quick you’re fired is all he says before hanging up. Nat excuses herself and closes the door on her way out. 

“What are you doing here?”

“Well, I’ve tried to set up a meeting with you but you’ve been busy. So I decided to just show up to see if you could squeeze me in.” 

“Why?” 

“We’ve got very interesting information and as a courtesy I thought that I would come to let you know that you have a few hydra members working for you.” 

“There’s no fucking way that there are any hydra members here. I do thorough background checks on all of my employees before I hire them.”  He glares at you as he leans forward resting his arms on top of his desk.

“Have you ever checked on any of your employees after you’ve hired them?”

He doesn’t respond.

“Didn’t think so.” You smile. “I happen to have proof if you don’t believe me. Your employee, Garrett Warren who looks a lot like Jake, was working for you for six months when Rumlow approached him. Rumlow had him dress up like Jake recently and sneak into Barnes’ warehouse to try and set us up. He gave me a lot more information this morning after our one-on-one.”

“Ok so you took care of Warren, what do you want?”

“Warren started recruiting others that work here. I suggest you clean house.” You pull a piece of paper out of your purse and place it on the desk. 

“What is this going to cost me?” 

“Oh Tony, why would you think I’m going to charge you?” You smile sweetly.

“Because you are your mother’s daughter.” 

You look at him curiously. What did your mom have to do with any of it? 

“Let’s just say you’ll owe me one.” 

He rolls his eyes before grabbing the list you gave him. You see his eyes scanning the names, his jaw clenching more the further down he went. 

“I want to talk to Warren first.” 

“You can drop by whenever you want. Meanwhile Jake here has the information on the program Warren installed within your company.”

“Now you’re saying I don’t know what software is running in my systems?” 

“I was able to get into your servers in about a minute, Warren left a back door open when he tried to delete footage from the security cameras at Barnes�� warehouse.” Jake supplies. 

“Like I said, I want to talk to Warren first. Then we can talk about that favor.” 

“Deal.” You get up from your seat and start heading out with Jake following you. “Make sure the door is locked next time, Stark.” 

“Get the fuck out, Y/L/N.” He says with slight amusement. 

Bucky had been in his office all day, as expected. If he wasn’t giving his own men orders and keeping his territory free of any hydra men, Bucky was handling his father’s men. Everyday more responsibility fell on Bucky, still his father refused to give up control completely. If he wasn’t in some type of fight with people that wanted to do harm to him or his family, he was cleaning up his father’s fuck ups. Like at this very moment where he was moving money around because his father spent thousands on who knows what. He had been smart enough to separate his own money from his father’s early on and invested it in his own business deals both legal and not. With it, Bucky had been branching out and financially supporting his mother and sister. It was one responsibility he would gladly take from George's hand. Still his moves needed to be cautious and calculated, Bucky had plans to completely remove himself from under his father’s thumb and have the freedom he so desperately wanted. 

“What are you looking at?” Steve’s voice interrupted the solitude Bucky liked so much. He glared at his right hand man for just a moment before accepting the glass of scotch Steve had placed on the desk in front of him. 

“The contract.” 

“Again?”

“There has to be a way out of it.” Bucky said as he grabbed his drink and drank it in one big gulp. 

He hadn’t looked at the contract in months. It’s what he had signed when he agreed to marry Dot. There had been a lot of back and forth between himself, George and Dot’s father as to what the contract should include. After months of arguing everyone agreed and Bucky signed his life away. Back then he thought he would never see you again and if he had to get married at the insistence of his father he might as well get something out of it. It’s why he had made his own demands. But now that you’re back and he has a chance to be with you again he couldn’t care less about the contract and his requests, he would find another way for his requests to be fulfilled. Bucky knew if he asked you to back him up you would but he wanted to get out of this himself. He was tired of needing someone to bail him out of his own problems and he wanted to do this on his own to prove he could do it. 

“Why don’t you call her and ask to see her?” 

“No, I can’t be distracted. I want to figure this out first.” 

“It’s already late, give it a rest Buck. Call Y/N I bet she’ll want to see you too. I’ll send this to Murdock to look over it. If anyone can find anything it’ll be him and Foggy.” 

“Fine, I’ll go. Worry about this tomorrow though.” Bucky said as he grabbed his phone with the intention of messaging you.

You had just finished showering and getting dressed with the intention of getting some actual sleep when your phone buzzed.

Bucky: busy? 

Y/N: not for you.

Bucky: I want to see you

Y/N: where?

Bucky: the hideout.

You smiled as you replied that you’d be there in 20 minutes.

15 years old

It had been one month since Bucky had asked you out on a date and that same night had asked you to be his girlfriend officially. Your father found out a few days later and although he assured you it was ok you suddenly found that you had more bodyguards than before. It was a precaution he said, but really it was to make sure you and Bucky spent as little time alone as possible. But what your father wasn’t aware of was both of your abilities to sneak around. It was how you found yourself standing in front of an abandoned building in the Barnes territory on a Saturday at 11:00 pm. You had checked the note that Bucky had given you earlier to make sure you had the correct address as you eyed the chain link fence that surrounded the property. A large no trespassing sign hung in front of you and for a moment you thought this was some kind of prank before you heard your name being called. 

“You made it.” Bucky said with a smile. He placed a kiss on your cheek  and his arm around your shoulder once he stopped next to you. 

“I thought you were pranking me. This building is off limits, why are we here?” 

“It’s a surprise. And it’s not off limits, it belongs to my dad,” He grabbed your hand and pulled you toward the alley and then to the fire escape. “Here, can you hold this?” He handed you a rather heavy backpack before pulling down on the ladder. He grabbed the bag again and hung it over his shoulder before motioning for you to go first.

It was quick work for both of you to get up the first ladder before Bucky stopped you. He made quick work of opening a window so that you could use the regular stairs. With his hand intertwined with yours he led you up to the final floor. Bucky covered your eyes and led you through a door at the end of the hall. 

“Surprise.” He said quietly as his hands fell from your eyes revealing what he had brought you for. 

The space seemed like it was meant to be an office but it lay empty. Well almost empty. There were bean bag chairs and lanterns everywhere casting a soft glow as well as a small coffee table with a radio sitting on top. The building was tall enough that you could see a good part of Brooklyn from the huge windows opposite the door. There was a broom in the corner along with some big black trash bags. It’s obvious he had cleaned up.

“What is this place?” 

“My dad bought this building a while back and plans for it fell through. He can’t seem to sell it to anyone. I thought we could use it. It can be our hideout, you know, for when our dads get annoying.” he said with a grin as he walked further into the room. He took off the backpack he brought with him and looked back up as he pulled something out. “I brought you a blanket, I know you always get cold and snacks.” 

Bucky held out the blanket and you moved towards him, snatching the blanket and taking a seat in one of the bean bag chairs. He sat next to you and offered you a small pink box. A cupcake from your favorite bakery. You thanked Bucky as you grabbed one and he took the other. He kept his eyes on you as you continued to look around.

“I thought we could make it nicer, you know. Bring in some more stuff to decorate it however you want.” 

“We’ll make it the perfect place.” you said with a smile.

The smile that appeared on your face made your cheeks hurt as you stepped out of your car. It was obvious the building had been renovated but that couldn’t take away all the memories made there. The parties Bucky would have there when your parents wouldn’t allow you to have one at home, the many, many times you would sneak out and meet him there after not being able to see each other for days or weeks at a time. You stepped onto the sidewalk as you admired the building. The chain link fence was long gone but you wondered if Bucky would have you climb the fire escape for old times sake. The front door of the building opens to reveal Bucky. He waves you over and you realize for the first time you hadn’t seen him dressed so casually since you came back. You were glad to have come dressed comfortably after seeing him. He had on a black t-shirt under a leather jacket and dark wash jeans. His eyes were bright, his smile mirrored yours and he looked good. So good it should be illegal. 

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

“Come on in.” He opens the door wider to let you in. 

“Wow.” Was all you managed to get out. The lobby was completely renovated. There was tile on the floor, the walls were painted and everything looked new. There was some furniture covered with plastic sitting around. “Are you actually using this building?” 

“Not yet, but I’m making it my new office.”

“I thought George was going to sell it.” you said as you walked further in.

“He did, to me. I just couldn’t let this place go.” 

You looked at him over your shoulder, his eyes were on you but somehow it was like he wasn’t really looking at you. It was more like he was reliving memories of your time spent here. He smiled sweetly at you when he realized you were looking at him and extended his hand, which you happily took.

“Come on, I’ve got a surprise.” 

“I’ve heard that before.” you chuckled as he pulled you towards the new elevators. 

Bucky lifted your hand to his lips and placed a quick kiss on it as you waited for the elevator to stop at the last floor. When the doors opened you let Bucky pull you along the newly renovated but still familiar hallway. At the end was the room you spent a lot of your time in. The door was closed and a small private sign was screwed on to it. Bucky pulled a key out of his pocket and gave it to you to unlock the door. 

A small gasp escapes you as you take in the room. The windows still gave you that view you had missed. Long gone are the bean bag chairs, they’re now replaced with some couches. A small bar was on one side of the room, shelves sitting high above it filled with pictures and memories from when you were younger. The room was dimly lit and inviting. Opposite the bar there were a few bookshelves and a music system. It had everything you and Bucky had talked about adding to liven up the place. 

Bucky’s arm’s wrap around you from behind as he rests his chin on your shoulder. You fall back into him as you bring your hands to cover his. 

“Do you like it?” 

“It’s perfect.” You didn’t have to look at him to know he was smiling. He lets go of you and moves his hand to your lower back, guiding you into the room. 

“Want a drink?” 

“Sure, do you have wine?” 

“Absolutely.” He says as you take a seat and he moves behind the bar. A few minutes later he’s handing you a glass of your favorite wine as he sits down next to you.

You take a sip and savor it. “How did you know this was my favorite?”

“That’s top secret.” 

“You asked Sarah?” 

“I asked Sarah.” He sighed as you giggled. Bucky sat back, getting comfortable and as he rested his arm against the back of the couch you moved to lean against him. You rest your head on his shoulder as you get comfortable yourself. 

You both sat in comfortable silence for a while. Every once in a while you felt Bucky place a chaste kiss on your forehead, or you would hold his free hand. But the longer you sat there, the more the one question you wanted to ask him kept nagging at you. You sit up and you drink the last of your wine before placing the glass on the coffee table in front of you. 

“I need to ask you something.”

“Anything.” 

“Do you love her?” You ask cautiously. It scared you more than any situation you’ve ever been in. If he said yes you weren’t sure what you would do with yourself. But you saw the way his face twisted in anger.

“No, absolutely not. I can’t even stand being in the same room as her,” Bucky sat up straighter and turned to look at you. “The only reason I’m even engaged to her is because of a deal my father made with her’s.”

“What kind of deal?”

“If it’s ok I’d really prefer not to talk about it right now. I’ve spent all day trying to find a way out of it.” 

“Ok, why are you trying to get out of it?” 

“Well, you see there is this woman I know. She’s beautiful, sexy, intelligent, a total badass. Don’t even get me started with how hot she is when she handles a weapon.” Bucky wiggles his eyebrows and you smile. “Anyways she just so happens to come back into my life recently and I really want her back. I can’t really have her back fully if I’m engaged to someone else.” 

“She sounds like a lucky woman to have your heart like that.”

“I like to think I’m the lucky one. Hopefully I have her heart too.” He said as he moved closer to you. 

“I’m pretty sure you do. She’s be kind of dumb to not love someone like you. Especially if you’re doing something like that for her.”

“Well, I’d do anything for her.” Bucky added before his lips barely touched yours.

“Really?” 

“Mhm.” 

“Dance with me?” You whispered against him. Bucky let out a small annoyed groan but it stopped quickly when you pressed your lips to his. It was too fast to even be considered a kiss but it was still there. You got up and went to the shelf where there was a new radio and turned it on, searching until you found a random slow song. It was a well known fact that Bucky doesn’t dance but that didn’t mean that you wouldn’t ask him to once in a while. You thought you would have to ask him again but you were pleasantly surprised that he was up and moving the coffee table. 

You walked over to him, wrapping your arms around each other and began to sway to the music.

“You know this means I get to feel you up now right?” 

“You can feel up whatever you want, baby.”

“Is that right?” you nod in response before you feel his hands move from your waist to the small of your back until he slid them over your ass, giving you a quick squeeze. “That can get you in trouble.” 

“What kind of trouble?”

“Only the best kind.” 

You give a little hum of acknowledgement as you press your body against his. Resting your head against his shoulder and hiding your face in the crook of his neck, Bucky takes the opportunity to hum along with the song that filled the air. He swayed side to side while enjoying having you in his arms. That was until he felt your lips on his neck. Little nips and kisses left behind in a trail up his cheek. 

“What are you doing?” he whispers.

“Making up for lost time.” 

The words had barely escaped your lips when you felt Bucky lift you. Your legs wrapped around him as he walked back to the couch and gently placed you down before settling between your legs. That was one thing you loved about him. No matter what was going on, he was always so gentle with you. His touch, his love. No matter the things he’d done or seen, not even the abuse he’d survived at the hands of his father could break him. There was no doubt that Bucky could be cruel and vicious if needed, you had seen it on a number of occasions and heard about it in the years after you had been driven out of New York. 

But right now, in this moment where it was just you and him wrapped up in each other he was the man you knew. His eyes were bright and his smile soft. It was what you remembered from before this mess. Bucky hovered above you, just like he had so many times before in the same exact room. Your hands had moved from around his neck to cup his cheek, you couldn’t help but study his face. You’d notice how much he’s changed. The little scars here and there most likely from fights that made his face their permanent home. The stubble that he had started to let grow out some. His lips, pink and inviting. Before you could make the move he lowered his head. His lips crashing against yours. They were just as you remembered, maybe even better. There was no fight for dominance when his tongue slipped between your parted lips because your trust in him ran so deep you would give him control whenever he asked for it. 

His hands were another story, somehow calculated and determined as they followed the path along your body as they did so many times before but also eager to relearn what made you putty in his hands. It was now his turn to move to your neck, kissing his way down until he found that spot that had you weak and moaning for him. You were a mess under him, your hands were in his hair or gripping his biceps. Bucky’s hands slide under your shirt and you shudder at the cool sensation of his left hand as it inches up to your chest. He groans as you roll your hips against his hardening length. Cursing under his breath he pulls away, sitting up and looking down at you. 

“I’m sorry. I don’t want it to be like this.”

You sit up and place a hand on his chest and moving up to his neck, you pull him down for one more kiss. Bucky rests his forehead against yours while keeping his eyes closed. 

“You have no idea how bad I want you, bug. But I’m not going to make you feel like the other woman.” 

“I know.” You smile up at him. “Just know that I want you too.” 

“You’re going to make me change my mind if you say things like that.” 

“A girl can try. Come on, we can at least cuddle right?” 

“Yeah, we can do that.” He answers as he sits back down. Bucky gets comfortable against the arm rest before you move to lay against him. 

The radio fills the comfortable silence, Bucky plays with your hair and you feel safe enough to want to drift off into sleep. It’s the first time in a long time where you don’t feel like you have to carry the weight of everything on your shoulders alone. Bucky’s here with you, keeping you safe and warm. He mumbles sweet nothings in your ear and promises of a new future together once everything is over. Your eyes close, there is a smile on your lips as you savor the small moment of peace you have with the man you love.

Completely unaware of the rushed footsteps heading your way.

Ch. 6

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[sleeping-on-cracking-ice]

hiya there! i love your work and i was wondering if i could request a Chishiya fic where its 3 times the reader almost kisses him and the one time he kisses them OR 3 times they almost confess their feelings and the one time Chishiya confesses his feelings. its up to you! :D

Thanks for you request! Here you go! 😉

Interrupted Confessions | Shuntaro Chishiya

{Alice In Borderland Masterlist}

{Main Masterlist}

Character(s): Chishiya (ft. Niragi, middle-aged woman from the second game, OC, Aguni, militants)

Summary: You and Chishiya keep trying to confess your feelings for one another, but something always seems to come between you when you finally get the chance

Warnings: drinking (reader), violence, mention of dying/death, guns, gunshots, panicking, mild angst

Word Count: 2.5k

*reader is gender-neutral

Chishiya wasn’t the best at expressing his emotions, especially when it came to romantic feelings. He appeared so confident and smug most of the time, but if someone was to even give him a bouquet of flowers or wink in his direction, his sarcastic remarks become caught in his throat and he doesn’t know how to react.

He could tell that you held romantic emotions for him. He was a people watcher, so he knows how people act when they feel that way. For ages, he tried to ignore the fact that you liked him, but as time pressed on and he began noticing you a lot more during games and at The Beach, he could slowly feel himself develop feelings for you back.

He knew he had to tell you soon enough, but every time he tried to open up to you, the world just didn’t allow him to have the chance.

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

1st Attempt

The first attempt Chishiya had at trying to express his interest in you was at The Beach.

It was a usual late night, everyone dancing and singing on the big patio of the hotel, allowing themselves to indulge in the delusional thoughts of being safe and sound, not having to worry about their lives for the time that the alcohol infected their hearts and minds.

You had had a few drinks, beginning to feel a little light headed yourself. You had dragged Chishiya down to the bar with you, convincing him to keep you company due to not being able to find Kuina or Usagi. Chishiya gladly went along, wanting to make sure you didn’t over do it and end up getting yourself hurt.

You sat on a stool at the bar, leaning on the wooden bench and staring down into your empty cocktail glass. Chishiya leant on the bar next to you, scanning the crowd of rowdy and social people. It was entertaining, watching people being drunken idiots.

He glanced over to you as you placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Chishiya,” you mumbled. “Have a shot. I feel bad for being the only one ordering. You’re making me look like an alcoholic.” You nudged a small glass filled to the brim with liquor in his direction, trying to encourage him to drink it.

Chishiya smirked as you looked at him pleadingly. He lifted his hand out of his white hoodie pocket and pet your head playfully. “No thanks Y/N. A matter of fact, I think you’ve had quite a bit.”

He could tell the intoxicating alcohol was beginning to get to you as he saw your eyes begin to gloss over. Your movements became a little more lazy and disorientated.

You pouted and looked into his piercing eyes that filled with the unfamiliar feeling of care and concern for you. “Just one more cocktail? We haven’t even been down here for long and you already want to leave,” you groaned, turning back to the bar to shout for the bartender.

Chishiya rolled his eyes and chuckled at you. You were lucky he liked you. If anyone else was to act the way you did around him, they would irritate him like no tomorrow.

Around half an hour later, Chishiya and you were strolling up the stairs to the roof, wanting to escape the chaotic ground level that pounded heavily as the bass in each song seemed to become more and more powerful, beginning to make your head hurt.

Chishiya and you giggled together as you tripped up the stairs slightly, being able to catch yourself before you face planted. Chishiya held a firm grip on your shoulders, making sure you don’t end up hurting yourself.

“You’re such a lil’ goose,” he laughed, turning his head towards you with a wide smile across his face, showing off his cute teeth. You smacked his cheek lightly, being embarrassed from his intense stare, considering how close his lips were to yours. “Shut up, you’re no better when you’re drunk. Last time you drank, I had to drag your ass up all these stairs like a baby. And you’re much heavier than you look.”

Chishiya laughed, and in a moment of bravery, he lifted a hand and gently stroked his knuckles across your face. Your skin was hot and soft under his touch, making him feel warm inside and gaze lovingly at you.

Silence took over the atmosphere, and you both stood still in the hallway together and stared into each other’s eyes. You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol talking, but the warm lights made Chishiya’s skin glow beautifully, and you didn’t think he had ever looked so gorgeous.

“Y/N,” he whispered. “Can I do something?” His heart was pounding so loudly, he was afraid you would be able to hear it through his chest. Why was he suddenly feeling brave?

You smirked and cocked your head to the side, pretending to not understand what he wanted. “And what would that be?” you questioned in a playful tone.

Chishiya took his arm off your shoulder and placed it against your other cheek, holding your face delicately in his hands so he could keep you looking at him. “This.”

Just as Chishiya was slowly leaning in to crash his lips onto yours, you both suddenly heard a deafening bang down the hall. The sound made you both quickly jump apart in fright, snapping your heads to see what caused the noise.

There stood none other than Niragi, having just kicked a young woman into the wall across from the room they came from. 

“Locking doors I see? What exactly do you have to hide?!”

Chishiya and you stood completely still as you watched Niragi stride over to the woman and grip a fist full of her hair, pulling her up and making her scream in pain.

“Y/N, come on,” Chishiya said quietly next to you, sounding rushed.

You looked at him confused. “What? We can’t just leave her,” you said, stumbling after him as he dragged you by your wrist, trying to pull you away from the scene.

“It’s not our business. She went against the rules, we can’t defend her.”

That wasn’t true. He could easily take on Niragi to help the girl, and so could have you. But considering your state at the moment, and Chishiya’s main concern being your safety around Niragi, he just wanted to leave to get you safe again.

Your safety was more important than a small kiss or saving a girl who broke the rules.

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

2nd Attempt

Chishiya’s second attempt to admit his romantic feelings towards you occurred at a game together.

The game was held in an apartment complex. Luckily, you two had managed to be put into the same group, meaning you could work together to survive. Two militants from The Beach also joined you, one of them being Aguni. Chishiya and you knew you wouldn’t receive any help from them, so you decided to just stick to you two for this one.

The game was a five of spades. The players had to find a safe zone to turn off a bomb within the time limit without getting killed by the ‘Tagger’.

As soon as the game began, you suggested to Chishiya to go to the top level, as you would be able to get a good view from there and be able to determine the Tagger’s patterns and habits to take note when searching for the unlocked door.

You both stood at the end of the top floor, having a clear view of the many levels and seeing all the players scattered in different positions.

You felt your heart sink as you saw a middle aged lady with a handbag on one of the middle levels. She was alone, looking around confused. It made you guilty that you couldn’t do anything to help her.

“As usual,” you heard Chishiya mumble beside you. You glanced at him and saw him scanning the players before continuing. “Everyone looks like they’re about to die.”

You blinked at his statement, looking back over the edge of the concrete railing. The vast sea of darkness that became darker the further it was away from the game made you feel empty. It purely just appeared like a black hole, waiting to suck you back into it’s depressive atmosphere.

“Sounds about right,” you responded to Chishiya.

Chishiya turned his head towards you, feeling his white locks become tangled together from the wispy wind. He examined your features as you stared over the area, admiring the way your skin glowed in the fluorescent lights. He looked down to your legs, hearing your shoe lightly tap anxiously on the ground.

He slid closer to you on the railing, placing a soft hand on your thigh to still your shaking leg and placed his chin on your shoulder before speaking softly. “Don’t be scared, I’ll protect you.”

You turned your head slowly towards him, seeing your lips only inches apart once again. You scoffed and rolled your eyes. “As if I need protection,” you teased.

Chishiya huffed, hiding his face in your hair in fear of you seeing the blush creeping onto his cheeks. You smiled at his movements. “You’re a bit clingy today, aren’t you?”

From that comment, Chishiya pulled his head back and looked into your eyes. His emotions were bouncing around his mind, making his heart beat quickly in confusion. Why couldn’t he just say it? Either of you could die at any time, why was he wasting time?

A piercing sound filled the air, and you gripped the back of Chishiya’s hoodie to roughly pull him to the harsh ground. Your reflexes went into overdrive as the gunshots rang. You glanced towards the hall on your right, in fear of seeing the tagger there. But luckily he wasn’t.

“Y/N, look.”

You looked towards Chishiya to see him standing over the railing again. You scrambled to your feet and stood beside him, following his line of sight.

A door a few levels down had several bullet holes around the sides of it. The tagger had tried to shoot someone there from a different level.

“He hasn’t done that yet. He’s trying to protect it,” Chishiya theorized. You nodded and pushed off the railing. “Come on, we don’t have much time left.”

You both quickly entered the lift and selected the floor the damaged door was on. 

As you both stood in silence, Chishiya’s words that almost poured out of his mouth before still rang in his ears.

‘I’m clingy because you make me feel safe.’

When will he ever have the chance again to tell you that?

He promised himself that if you both survived that game, he would confess to you before your next game. Because who knows what the game makers would make you do next? For all he knew, it could get you killed, and he would never be able to get to tell you how he feels.

************ 3rd Attempt

Surprisingly, Chishiya wasn’t the one to confess his feelings first. You were able to bring enough courage together to say it to him, but it wasn’t under the best circumstances.

He always envisioned his confession to you as being sweet and loving. He dreamed of telling you how he felt underneath the stairs on the roof, like a cliché romance movie.

But he didn’t get that chance.

You and him were huddled together in the corner of a trashed room. Chishiya held you tightly against his chest, patting your head to try and ease your rapidly beating heart and nervous breaths.

“Shh,” he whispered, his voice shaking slightly. “It’s okay. This’ll be over soon, and we can leave. We can find somewhere else to go.”

Gunshots rang outside the door of the room you were hidden in. Chishiya felt you flinch at every bang, making his heart sink lower and lower. He hated not being able to comfort you, it made him feel sick almost.

The Beach had become a game arena. Aguni has demanded the militants to kill everyone on sight so he could find the witch the hard way. As soon as Niragi had yelled and shot several bullets to the ceiling, sending everyone into a sudden panic, Chishiya didn’t even give you time to think before grabbing your arm and dragging you hurryingly away from the lobby to hide from the militants. 

So there you were, trying to make yourselves as small as possible behind a turned over table in the corner of a pitch black hotel room. Chishiya thought it was best not to hide in his room or your room because the militants would look there first to find you.

Chishiya lifted his face from the top of your head to glance towards the door. He sobbed slightly in fear as he saw shadows through the small crack at the bottom of the door. People were running back and forth through the halls screeching for help, trying to escape the murderous militants.

He felt you wrap your hand around his upper back and tuck your face into his neck, causing your tears to make his sensitive skin wet, not that he really cared.

He sighed heavily, trying to relax into your touch. It was deemed impossible to be calm, but having you there with him brought him more relief than anything else could’ve in that moment.

Chishiya placed his cheek on your head, snuggling into you and inhaling your scent. “I-I’m sorry,” you mumbled out.

Chishiya frowned at your apology. “Why are you saying sorry?” he asked.

“I-I’m sorry,” you cried quietly again. “I’m so in love with you Chishiya, and I’m so sorry that I’ve waited until now to say it. But I’m afraid if I don’t, I won’t get another chance.”

Chishiya felt his heart stop in his chest. Silence fell over both of you, but then Chishiya placed a soft hand on your jaw to lift your teary face to face his.

“You idiot,” he laughed, tears still streaming down his smooth cheeks. “You’re an idiot. You should’ve told me this sooner, I’ve been waiting for the perfect moment to tell you the exact same thing.”

His words only made you sob harder, pushing your face towards him to share a desperate kiss. It was messy and emotional, but that kiss alone was enough to make both of you understand how much you truly cared.

Whether you both lived or died at that moment didn’t matter to either of you, all that mattered was that Chishiya finally crawled out of his shell to let you in, and you had finally been able to create the courage to express what you truly felt about him.

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

3 Months Later...

The breeze flew gently past your body, making your skin develop small goosebumps at the cold feeling. Your eyes scanned over the vast ocean of water in front of you, almost being blinded from the morning sun reflecting off the surface.

You glanced behind you quickly when you heard light taps of feet against the grassy ground. Chishiya walked away from the tent and rubbed his eyes. He sat next to you, but not without giving you a soft kiss on the cheek.

“Good morning baby,” he whispered into your ear. You smiled at the pet name, turning your head and placing your lips against his. “Good morning.”

[thornedrose44]

Prompt: "Do it. Take a chance, I'm begging you. You don't want to spend the rest of your life wondering what could have been."

Read on AO3

“What is it?” Kara huffed out, her frustration finally reaching critical mass.

“What’s what?” Alex replied, playing dumb by pretending to study the DEO’s monitors far too intently considering Kara had literally just dispatched the rogue villain of the week.

Kara crossed her arms, hip cocked forward slightly as she leant against the central console, blue eyes observing her sister's profile closely.

“Whatever you’re not telling me because you think it will upset me.” The superhero clarified bluntly, her social hesitation and uncertainty having dampened over the last few years.

She had learnt the hard way how important it was to never shy away from the truth and avoid speaking around the heart of the matter. It was a lesson she had absorbed completely, and it was one she refused to forget - needing to prove she had evolved, had bettered herself from the version that had required teaching in the first place.

“I’m not…” Alex refuted, shrugging dismissively but keeping her gaze trained forward, “There’s no-“

“Look, I’m asking you out of courtesy,” Kara cut in, “but you and I both know that I could just as easily ask Nia, and she would fold almost instantly.”

Alex grumbled irritably under her breath - Nia still had yet to build an effective resistance to Kara’s puppy dog eyes and this particular weakness had caused no small amount of trouble for Alex over the last five years.

“It is Lena related, right?” Kara checked, though it was completely unnecessary.

For Alex to actively try and keep a secret from her, it couldn’t be about anything else. And it had been more or less confirmed by her sister's reaction to her threatening to go to Nia.

“Just because I’m keeping a secret, doesn’t automatically mean it’s to do with Lena.” Alex tried, though the conviction behind her statement was weaker than wet tissue paper.

The redhead side-eyed her and Kara merely had to arch an unimpressed eyebrow in return for the DEO director to deflate.

“Okay maybe it’s a little to do with Lena.” Alex admitted with a wince, rubbing the back of her neck in defeat.

Kara threw her hands up in exasperation. “It’s been over five years, okay? I’m fine!”

Her bellowed declaration of stability, made the nearby DEO agents look over with a mix of curiosity and concern. Kara grimaced at the reaction and as such didn’t resist when Alex grabbed her arm and dragged her out of the central room and into her private office.

Alex turned to face her fully, lips pressed tight together and hands firm on her own hips (it had always annoyed Kara that Alex managed to make her signature superhero pose far more intimidating than her own attempts).

“Yelling I’m fine, definitely helps your case.” Alex retorted, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Kara had the good grace to look suitably embarrassed for a moment before launching into the same variation of the speech she gave every time there was a morsel of Lena news to be had. “I screwed up, okay? Big time screwed up - ‘regret it for the rest of my life’ screwed up!” Kara declared prompting a beleaguered sigh from her sister who knew the blatant lie that was coming next. “But I’ve made my peace with it. I won’t spiral into another depressive episode when I hear how happy she is.”

Alex shook her head, not even remotely convinced - not that Kara could blame her, the last time Alex had been pestered into telling her a Lena update, Kara had spent a weekend on a drinking binge that had successfully proven that there were limits even for a kryptonian.

“I don’t think-“ Alex began.

“What is it?” Kara demanded. “Is she getting another medal from the president?”

Alex shook her head, jaw clenching and unclenching. “Kara, you don’t want to know this.”

“Her and Kal save the world again?” Kara barrelled on, her lips curling into a jealous snarl. “The greatest Luthor and Super duo continue to make the world a better place?”

That particular news article had been printed and burned by Kara’s heat vision more times than she dared admit to anyone.

“Kara, please-“ Alex begged, expression crumpling as Kara relentlessly pushed.

“Tell me, I can take it.” Kara proclaimed, voice coming out high pitched and strained. “Is she dating someone again? Another famous actress? That Olympic male gymnast? What-“

“She’s getting married.”

A bomb must have gone off, Kara thought to herself.

A kryptonite bomb.

It was the only thing that could explain the ringing in her ears, and the way everything just… hurt.

A shard of kryptonite must have pierced her chest and cut her heart into jagged pieces. That was the only thing that could explain it.

“What?” She questioned, barely above a whisper. She didn’t quite recognise her own voice - it sounded shattered and unfamiliar. She also didn’t know what she was asking.

Didn’t know what ‘what’ was all about.

What just happened?

What did you say?

What post-apocalyptic reality are we living in now?

“Next week, she’s getting married.” Alex explained, giving Kara answers she no longer wanted. “Sam, Ruby, Kal and Lois are invited.”

She knew it should sting. Not being invited even though they hadn’t spoken in nearly five years. That she should feel something about the fact that Lena had omitted Alex, Brainy, Nia and J’onn as well - it further reinforced how Lena believed them to be Kara’s friends and never hers (which was one of the things Kara regretted most - how her poor treatment of Lena had infected and destroyed everyone else’s friendship with the youngest Luthor).

“To who?” Kara asked, tone cold, hollow… empty.

“Kara,” Alex murmured softly, reaching out to comfort her sister, “this clearly isn’t good for you.”

Kara jerked backwards so fast that the papers on Alex’s desk shot into the air, fluttering down around the sisters like snow.

“Just tell me!” Kara ordered, hands turned into white knuckle fists at her sides that would be capable of tearing through the strongest of metals. Her eyes heated but she managed to stave the fire in them as she glowered at her sister.

Alex slumped back, leaning heavily against her desk, running a frantic hand through her short hair. “Does it matter?” Alex muttered defeatedly, brown eyes filled with pity and sympathy as she stared up into Kara’s eyes.

“Of course it fucking matters,” Kara snapped in outrage before she had a chance to stop and think , “because it’s not me!”

The admission hung heavy and rotting between them. It wasn’t a revelation to either of them, though the fact that the intensity of Kara’s feelings hadn’t dampened despite the separation of half a decade was.

“Kara…” Alex breathed, standing back up and moving towards the blonde with the obvious intent of hugging her.

“I should get back to CatCo.” Kara mumbled, cheeks a fiery red with shame. She stepped hurriedly away from her sister and was already halfway out the door before she halted, turning back to call out a sad yet sincere. “Thanks for telling me.”

Xxx

“I genuinely don’t get why you love these films so much.” Lena remarked, hands cupping her just made cup of cocoa, nose adorably scrunched up as she snuggled back down on the sofa beside Kara, who didn’t hesitate to wrap an arm around her best friend’s shoulders.

“They’re sweet and romantic.” Kara replied with a happy sigh, turning to nuzzle into the side of Lena’s head for a fleeting moment as the film’s lead started her joyful march down the aisle. “It makes me hopeful.”

“Hopeful?” Lena repeated curiously, leaning away slightly so she could meet Kara’s blue eyes.

Kara shrugged, ducking her head bashfully, “It’s stupid.”

“Hey,” Lena murmured gently, freeing a hand from her mug so that she could interlace her warmed fingers with Kara’s, “you could never be stupid, especially not about something like this.” Her best friend asserted, before asking seriously, “You want the classic big white wedding?”

“Uh…” Kara blushed, cheeks pinking as her mind struggled to kick into gear.

She didn’t know how to tell Lena that the reason she loved weddings more than any other event is because they so closely resembled Kryptonian Bonding ceremonies. That the exchanging of rings, polished everlasting metal, reminded her of wonderfully crafted bracelets clasped on wrists. That it was an occasion for family to join together across generations, for the rare flashes of art and music on Krypton to take centre stage over cold science.

She didn’t know how to tell Lena that after being alone, abandoned and lost - ripped away from her home in the cruelest of ways - that the idea of belonging to someone else, of having a home in someone else regardless of time or location was what Kara wanted more than anything else.

She didn’t know how to tell Lena because it would require admitting the truth of who she really was, it would require taking accountability for years of lies.

She didn’t know how to tell Lena without losing her forever.

“Yeah.” Kara coughed awkwardly, “I want the whole thing. Beautiful dress, surrounded by family… the love of my life at the end of the aisle. Everything.” She shot Lena a side-long glance, “I’m guessing you don’t?”

“Never really been my thing,” Lena admitted readily and Kara’s heart twisted at how Lena didn’t hesitate to bare herself, how she gave all of herself when it could be argued that Kara - at best - only gave half, “probably because I can’t imagine I have enough people in my life to invite and feel ‘surrounded’.” Lena pursed her lips thoughtfully, “I also don’t get the need for the spectacle. Just the idea that there’s someone out there that would want to…” Kara watched her best friend deflate, expression wistful and pained, “be with me, love me like that… that’s more than enough.”

Kara’s eyes stung with barely suppressed tears at how little Lena thought of herself. Whoever had the privilege of marrying her best friend would be the single luckiest and most fortunate person in the universe and Kara wished Lena knew that, wished she believed it. But when she opened her mouth to say it, to proclaim it, her breath faltered and her courage abandoned her… like it always did with the youngest Luthor.

“So no white dress?” Kara muttered instead, voice meek and lacking the lightheartedness that should have carried the question.

It didn’t matter, though, Lena let out a quick exhale that resembled something on the edge of laughter. Kara’s escalating heart rate settled at that, however, it did little to alleviate the pang of regret that was steadily accompanying all her interactions with the CEO.

“Well, I guess I could be convinced by someone special.” Lena teased, shooting Kara an overtly salacious wink that wouldn’t - on the surface - be considered genuine.

“Anyone that marries you will have to be special.” Kara replied, the statement tumbling out instantly.

It wasn’t the heartfelt confession that Kara wished it to be and it wasn’t quite light enough to be dismissed as a friendly reassurance. Instead, it was yet another thing that fell into the ethereal greyness that lied between them, something to tuck away and think back on late at night when they tried to work out if the other meant it the way they wished they did.

“Yeah?” Lena whispered, piercing green eyes studying Kara’s face closely.

Kara swallowed thickly, “Yeah.”

Xxx

Lena found out less than six weeks after that movie night. They defeated Lex and Kara had been on the edge of breathing easy, of being able to simply relax back into her life when it all came crashing down.

They had been at Games Night and Kara had been antsy, waiting for her best friend to arrive. The thought of pulling Lena into a hug had been what she had been looking forward to most all day.

Kara was at peace, laughing and drinking with her friends - her family - when Lena had arrived. Kara had beamed up at her immediately and for a second Lena’s entrancing green eyes lit up in return before turning dark and distant.

Kara’s smile faltered, crinkle appearing between her brows when-

The wine bottle smashed into the wall behind Kara’s head.

Deathly silence fell over the area.

Kara looked into hollow, emptied out versions of her favourite green. She would have preferred anger, fury, rage… the defeated nothingness staring back at the Kryptonian was far worse.

Lena turned and left, grinding Kara’s heart to dust and taking the sand particles left with her.

She knew.

She knew because Lex had told her.

She knew because she had gone to stop her brother, intent on saving the world like always only to find out that those she was saving the world for didn’t view her as their equal. That the people she treated as family had kept her on the outskirts. That her best friend had lied, had manipulated, had-

xxx

It was Lois that found out everything from Lena.

When the fallout had happened, as Kara and the Superfriends realised what they had lost, the blonde hero sent notice to her cousin that his identity was probably known as well (mostly because she remembered how hurt she had been when Kal shared her secret without her consent). Kal and Lois had arrived almost immediately, frantic and terrified (especially with baby Jon to consider) at the concept of a Luthor knowing their identity.

Kara, joined by all the Superfriends, quickly put their minds to rest, sharing Lena’s actions from before, her dependability, kindness and inherent goodness. Kal and Lois were convinced their secret was safe but they were horrified to hear how Lena had been isolated and kept at arms length after her considerable good deeds. Alex and the others had squirmed uncomfortably and tried to weakly talk around their hesitancy.

Kal and Lois had simply looked at Kara for an explanation but she had none. Yet again the words would not come.

It was Lois, therefore, that had sought out the youngest Luthor and through her incredible tenacity was able to gain access where everyone else was rebuffed and harshly rejected.

It was Lois that comforted Lena, gave her support and sympathy.

It was Lois that relayed Lena’s demand that they give her space.

It was Lois that suggested Lena return to Metropolis - presenting it as a way to celebrate how L-Corp, after Lena’s repeated sacrifices and heroism, was fully rehabilitated and ready to reclaim its once home.

It was Lois that encouraged Lena and Kal to work together becoming an unstoppable force that Kara and Lena had always danced on the precipice of.

A Luthor and a Super. Saving the world.

xxx

Kara did as asked. Gave Lena space. Or at least the semblance of space.

She checked in constantly, hovered nearby throughout the days and nights leading upto L-Corp’s departure and Lena along with it. She followed Lena’s jet to Metropolis, a sentinel ensuring safe passage.

She kept her distance for three months. Three months of stony silence before she broke.

Snapped, more like.

Landing on Lena’s new balcony in Metropolis that had been specially built for Superman this time - not for her, though Kara, at the time, had hoped that she had been considered consciously or unconsciously as well.

Kara couldn’t remember the exact words.

She remembered crying from beginning to end.

Remembered ‘I loved you’ - past tense.

Remembered finally breaking through Lena’s cold, hardened shell to the raw, bleeding wound hidden underneath and regretting it almost immediately.

Remembered how seeing Lena’s agony was worse than kryptonite, worse than watching Krypton burn…

Remembered Lena saying she needed time to heal, for Kara to stop hovering nearby - because she knew, she sensed Kara’s presence even without seeing her once - and to give her time to stop thinking of Kara and feeling only pain when she did so.

Remembered promising to do just that.

Remembered a timer starting to count in her head - the seconds that she would be condemned to purgatory.

Remembered the hope that just refused to go out - the hope that whispered give it time, give it time, give it time with every beat of her heart.

Remembered thinking that given enough time Lena would reach out and they would get the chance that Kara had almost destroyed for them.

Remembered flying zig-zagged and dangerous to Alex where her endless stream of tears returned to full flow as she sobbed into her sister’s shoulder using words and phrases like ‘heartbroken’ and ‘I love her’ and ‘I can’t survive this pain’ and ‘what do I do?’ and ‘I can’t breathe’.

Remembered a hollowed out shell of Kara Danvers moving through the motions for a year, for two, three, four… five...

Remembered taking up drinking to excess whenever she saw Lena’s life flourish and grow - not because she didn’t want Lena to be happy, that was what Kara wanted and wished for more than anything - because she wasn’t there with her for those life-changing events.

Remembered Alex and Kelly’s worries growing with each occurrence, intervening more and more to such a degree that they encouraged Kara to consider AA meetings - she did eventually, and found destroying entire junkyards to be a healthier coping mechanism, external destruction rather than internal.

Remembered Brainy at the behest of Alex, setting up Kara’s phone and computer to prevent searching for any keywords affiliated to Lena and to alert Alex if Kara ever managed to stumble upon a news article.

Remembered listening to Kal and Lois skipping large parts of stories where it was clear that Lena was involved - it was nice in some way to know Lena was getting the credit she deserved, but it hurt when Kal’s stories started to involve gaps at Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Year (events that made Kara’s loneliness even more acute and her longing intensify).

Remembered her life without Lena.

Remembered regret and guilt and loss.

Remembered-

“She’s getting married.”

xxx

Kara shouldn’t have been there. Shouldn’t be anywhere in the vaguest vicinity of where she currently was.

The bride was dressed in a simple silky white shift, sipping intermittently from her champagne glass as she stared contemplatively up at the designer white dress hanging off the door in front of her. Raven locks were pinned up, so tight and intricate that it made Kara wince sympathetically at how it must tug and pinch at the bride’s scalp - she’d always preferred it down, loose and curling… soft and inviting. The bride’s make-up was artistic with a dramatic edge that would captivate but made her look… not like herself in Kara’s opinion.

Or maybe after five years it made Lena look more like herself - the version of herself she had become once free of Kara and all the pain she brought into her life.

She was hovering outside the dressing room window, trying to work out how far she was willing to take this. If it would be better to leave without saying anything, to try and leave some part of Lena’s life unspoiled.

It was the fear that she had always given into when she was best friends with Lena that made her decision for her. Like speaking her truth and learning to ask for what she wanted - Kara had also promised herself that she would never allow that bone deep fear to stop her ever again.

The window was open and it was as good an invite as Kara was ever going to get.

“Lena?”

The beautiful bride-to-be jerked in her place, champagne glass nearly tumbling to the floor but saved at the last second.

She didn’t turn around for a beat… then two…

Kara was just about to escape back through the window when Lena exhaled slowly and pivoted round to meet her.

“Kara?” Lena breathed out, green eyes closed off and wary.

The kryptonian studied the love of her life for a moment, taking in every little detail - soaking it all up as if accepting that this would be the last time she might ever get to see it again. That the timer that had counted past five years would stop after this moment, the hope powering it gone forever.

“Don’t marry them, please.” Kara requested, no flowery language, no build up. Just the honest truth.

“What?” Lena’s jaw dropped and the champagne glass didn’t survive the second shock, crashing to the ground - released by trembling fingers.

“Don’t marry them.” Kara repeated, uncaring of how the carpet below them soaked up the amber liquid.

Lena’s expression flitted through an array of emotions before settling on indignant rage, “And why the hell not?!”

Kara didn’t flinch, didn’t retreat, instead she stood taller, the crest of her super suit catching the early afternoon light. “Because it should have been me. It still should be me.”

Lena scoffed in disbelief, “You can’t be serious. Now? You’re doing this now?”

Kara pursed her lips, fighting back the regret that always came with the reminders of countless missed opportunities. “Yes.”

The straightforwardness of Kara’s answers seemed to be throwing Lena, leaving her wrong-footed, clearly expecting the blonde to talk around and hint and imply like she used to.

But Kara had learnt. (The lesson had been too painful not to.)

“You had years, Kara!” Lena argued, “Years where I…. I threw myself at you. Practically begged you to love me… to trust me…”

“I know.” Kara replied sadly, wanting desperately to reach out when Lena’s pretty green eyes began to glisten with unshed tears. “I know. But I’m here now.”

“I don’t want you to be.” Lena muttered, arms crossed over her chest and head ducked downwards to hide her expression.

“I know that too.” Kara assured, fingers twitching with the desire to make contact, to comfort and coax - even after all these years her body remembered, the pathways of hardwired instinct related to her best friend were still there, still active even if temporarily closed for service.

“Then why are you here?” Lena murmured, voice barely above a whisper.

“Because I’m in love with you.”

Lena’s head snapped up at that, green eyes like saucers.

Kara’s single biggest regret was that she had never said those words to Lena before, had alluded and pointed at them during their final interaction but had never outright said them. And Lena had deserved to hear them then and deserved to hear them now to forever vanquish the doubts that had always been with her.

“Because I’m in love with you and we didn’t get our chance.” Kara affirmed, taking a half step closer to the bride, her red heeled boots and Lena’s bare feet meaning the younger woman had to tip her head ever so slightly back to maintain eye contact. “We didn’t get our chance because of me. Because I was afraid, I was so afraid of losing you. Of doing even the slightest thing that could mean you weren’t in my life. And in the end every action I took out of fear of losing you ensured just that. I’ve spent five years without you, Lena, and I can’t bear a single day more.”

“Kara,” Lena whispered, “I’m getting married.”

“I know.” Kara smiled sadly before adding, “Don’t.”

“What are you suggesting? Seriously?” Lena sighed, shaking her head mournfully and Kara knew she was losing her then.

“I’m suggesting that we have our chance now before it's gone forever.”

Gathering the small amount of courage Kara had left, she tentatively let her hands nudge forwards, brushing against Lena’s cool, pale fingers. That small contact was everything. Made it easier to breathe, made the colours of the world more vibrant, made everything just more.

“I let fear hold me back from the person that made me happiest in the entire universe and I won’t let it hold me back again.”

“Kara…” Lena whimpered, glancing back over her shoulder at the closed door that her wedding dress was displayed on, though she didn’t pull her hand away from Kara’s touch, didn’t flinch or retreat.

“Do it.” Kara pleaded, stepping across that final slither of distance between them, her forehead leaning forward to rest gently against the side of Lena’s, “Take a chance, I’m begging you. You don’t want to spend the rest of your life wondering what could have been.”

Lena inhaled shakily, head returning to forward facing - foreheads pressed against one another, breathing in the same air - and then… and then…

Lena’s hands slipped fully into Kara’s, fingers intertwining together.

[booppooo]

Body Guard: Chapter Four

Abby Anderson x Fem! Reader Series

AN: heyyy, how y'all doin... anyhoo I hope this chapter meets ur expectations, enjoyyyy

Warnings: blood and injury, murder, infected, lethal weapons, swearing

Word Count: 2632

-

June 12th, 20 hours remaining

Abby was quick as she traveled through the buildings and down alleys. Y/n found herself struggling to keep up and it didn't help that Abby didn't mind to check on her. Not even a simple look over her shoulder. Y/n knew Abby had every reason to ignore her, and the thought made her slump over and slow down (this and the fatigue from little sleep and food).

The soldier was driven now not by fear of her leader dying, but by the irritation of Y/n's poor choices. Now her primary goal was to get this mission over with to be rid of the doctor lagging behind her, as selfish as that was. Her shoulder burn and stung from the hack-job that was her stitches and the growing infection. However, her pain was an after thought and surely would never come up in conversation with Y/n; she could see the physician now.

"Not much farther." Abby informed with the first words that had been spoken in hours. Y/n stayed silent.

They had gotten to the roof of an old building and were able to gage a portion of Seattle. Though it may never return to the hustle and bustle it harbored decades ago, mother nature's makeover was far more encapsulating. The way vines and leaves seemed to swallow structures, and how streams and rivers flowed through the destruction done by FEDRA, it was something of a beautiful disaster. Abby had seen it a hundred times and still she couldn't help but watch it for a moment, just a moment.

"We don't have much time."

Y/n's voice was quiet and cautious, afraid if she said the wrong thing in the wrong tone she'd be thrown from the roof. Abby's faint grin scrunched back into a scowl as she watched Y/n climb down the latter. She was right, time was running out, but hearing it come from Y/n made it more aggravating.

The hospital was just out of reach. The soldier knew they'd be back at the base by now if they had been given a truck and a few more men. If Isaac made it through this surgery, Abby hoped she'd be getting a little more than 'top soldier' treatment. From Y/n's perspective, she just hoped Isaac would make it, no need for the gold star. The doctor seemed to gain some confidence by taking the lead. Much like Abby, she didn't bother to glance back, not when the hospital was this close. She almost hoped Abby would speak up about it and say how she needed to keep behind her just to strike up some banter. But the blonde kept quiet and jogged behind her, it wasn't like she'd take a wrong turn now.

-

Months ago the hospital had been swept to gather supplies. The stadium, as well as other outposts, were running low on just about everything and needed just a quick pick me up. At that time, there wasn't a reason to venture into the lower floors that had been lost to the infected, there wasn't a reason to risk losing men.

Abby held the second set of keys to all the outposts and kept them stashed in the bottom of her pack. She unlocked the chain keeping the hospital secure and readied her pistol for any unwelcome intruders. Again, Y/n was on her heels every step of the way - feeling as if they had gone too long without some excitement.

She fumbled with the list in her pack, "Okay, we need-"

"It's going to be either in the ER, ICU, or trauma, that's all that's left."

Y/n frowned at Abby, though she couldn't see it, and stuffed the list in her pocket. It was becoming more and more clear how hopeless their friendship was.

With their masks on they began rummaging through the abandoned waiting rooms and hallways leading to the three units. Y/n searched for anything remotely medical while Abby searched for straggling bullets and supplies to make pipe bombs. Though Y/n was under the impression she had seen the worst of it on her date with the stalker, Abby knew that was just the tip of the iceberg.

Y/n watched as Abby stuffed a single bullet into her pocket, "Seriously? One bullet?"

The blonde remained silent.

"How do you know it's still any good?" Y/n pressed.

Abby shot a look at the doctor, but all that could be seen were threatening eyes piercing through her mask. So, Y/n took the hint and they carried on into what was left of the emergency room.

-

15 hours remaining

The gas masks were already hazy from heavy use and old age, this mixed with the spore filled air, visibility was low. Once again, Abby turned to Y/n with her stern eyes and instructed her to stay close.

As they traveled from room to room they stripped them of what they had left. In the process they came across some med kits that they were both hopeful had the desired supplies, but were only met with an empty box. In the process a few clickers and stalkers were put to rest, nothing out of the ordinary for Abby, except for Y/n essentially clinging to her.

They crouched behind a bed and listened closely to the clicker stumbling and, well, clicking. Abby held a bloodied finger to her mask and Y/n nodded, it was the last clicker and would be easy to dispose of if they were silent. With her shiv in hand, the soldier silently glided across the floor getting closer and closer...

Crash!

Y/n gasped and scrambled, her face draining of color. The clicker screeched and whipped around with its flailing arms, landing on Abby. It's mutated mouth closed in on her neck as she did all she could to push it back. Her shiv did little now that she was using both her hands to shove and smack away it's clawing fingers.

I'm not dying here! Abby thought.

With a mighty shove and a grunt, Abby managed to buy herself just enough time to re-grasp her shiv. Her jaw clenched and her teeth bared as she prepared herself for the next attack, all she could hear was her heart thumping in her ears.

Therefore, she failed to hear Y/n sprinting around the room for a weapon. She nearly came up empty until she remembered the pistol that had been snuggly tucked in her jeans. Without a second though the doctor fled for Abby, and within the window in which Abby managed to create space between her and the clicker, Y/n fired her shot.

Then another. And another.

Then her gun stopped firing bullets and clicked every time she pulled the trigger with a trembling finger. She was like a broken record, tugging and clicking.

As her heart steadied, senses such as hearing and touch returned. Abby heard the clicking and finally gripped reality as she looked up from the deceased clicker. Droplets of blood had splattered onto Abby's mask but she could still clearly see a shaking Y/n amidst the darkness and spores. She reached over and snatched the emptied pistol from her loose grip.

"The hell is wrong with you!?" Abby hissed at the surgeon.

Y/n hadn't even noticed her vision was blurred from the tears in her eyes. Abby's voice was distant and fuzzy.

"I told you to stay put so shit like this doesn't happen."

The blood pooled around the clicker and seeped over to Y/n's boots. It ran slow and thick from the dead body. She was fighting for a full breath.

"Are you even listening?"

Abby's boots stepped into the dense puddle and obstructed the view of the body. Her voice was clearing up.

"You..." Y/n choked out, "You almost..."

Abby furrowed her brows and tilted her head to meet Y/n's eyes. They were dark yet wide.

"I could've lost you."

Abby could see the agony in her eyes, the absolute terror. She would scoff any other time seeing as their dynamic was nothing but snarky comments and eye rolls, but Y/n was shaking like a leaf and her words just barely made it past her lips.

"Uhm.." Abby was unsure, "Let's keep going."

A quick look over Y/n's shoulder and Abby could see where the commotion had come from, the ceiling had collapsed some right where Y/n sat. Even more reason for them to kick it into high gear.

Abby guided Y/n from the room by her shoulders. She was much smaller than Abby, most people were, but she never got to feel how much smaller people were than her. Most of the time she was lugging another soldier packed with muscle, but this time she had her arm wrapped around a frail surgeon, something she hoped she wouldn't have to do again.

Once they returned to the hall, a long, streaky trail of blood lead straight toward the exit. Surely it wasn't them, they had spent their time fighting their battles in designated rooms. Whatever it was that did this was nothing but trouble. However, all that was left to sift through were ambulances just beyond the blood ridden exit - just their luck.

The building vibrated and more ceiling crumbled at the sound of a booming, guttural roar. Not a click, not a screech or even a scream from a bloater or shambler - a threatening, dangerous roar. 

[burnedbyshoto]

mine

— Dabi didn’t want you in the slightest, but he’d be damned if anyone touched you without knowing that you belonged to him

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pairing: yandere!dabi x fem!reader

warnings: 18+, nsfw, gorey (blood and puss), branding, yandere!dabi, semi-public sex, consented sex that turns into nonconish, spitting, heavy degradation, hardcore, sadist!dabi, mindbreak

word count: 5,588

a/n: im so terribly sorry for being so late with kinktober. my keyboard is super fucked up and I had a crazy busy weekend. please do not read this if you are easily offended it got a bit crazy lol ;-; well at least for what i typically write sorry

kinktober day 17 main kink: branding | kinktober masterlist

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Dabi didn’t care about you.

As you lay on the broken, dirty mattress (was this even a mattress?) that belonged to who knows who and was in this alleyway for who knows how long, there was no telling if you wouldn’t contract some form of an STD just by laying here in your filth. You wanted to sit up. You needed to get out of this sketchy alleyway just to continue the day. But your body hurts, everything hurts.

But the tears in your eyes had long dried out. The blood, cum, spit, puss, and drool on the bed making for an unpleasant, pitiful sight beneath and on you.

But I guess there was no reason for anyone to try and take you, even like that.

There was already a warning, a brand for anyone to fucking try and take you from the person who owned you. 

His name pulsed on every throbbing, bubbling white-hot pain on your body. His hands and name forever scarred and branded on your skin.

Dabi Dabi Dabi Dabi

It hurt.

It hurt so much.

But you couldn’t even cry as a black cat with piercing blue eyes landed on the mattress centimeters from your face. It was too much.

And in the middle of the alleyway, your eyes shut, and a painful unconscious slammed through you. Consciousness no longer your friend as you ended there, ass up, gaping, cum splattering hole available for everyone to see.

It didn’t matter, you clearly belonged to Dabi, and anyone who tried to take you would be consumed with a horrid fate.

.

..

.

Dabi’s mouth was pulled back into an angry, unamused snarl.

Typically speaking, the black-haired Frankenstein of a man could look more apathetic than the gods of apathy themselves, but if you bugged him just enough, things could sink under his skin faster than you could run. But today, he seemed to have every annoying thing happen to him event after event so that he was practically simmering with putrid anger.

It had started when you had left his room in the morning louder than he liked. You both had begun a sexual relationship of sorts. As much as the League was intent and focused on driving out the hero society, libidos and sexual needs could hardly be ignored. Especially as Dabi’s own libido grew with the more success he had, the closer he was to achieve his own goal. It made sense that he and you began this relationship. He wasn’t going to touch any of the guys in the group, not to mention the fact they were about as ugly as he was, so that meant he’d have to potentially stare down at a nasty face moaning and screaming. That wasn’t going to happen. Toga was a psycho bitch that Dabi could never understand, and with her stupid stabbing addiction, he wasn’t about to trust her near his genitals. 

You had been a late joiner in the group, some dumb, weak, quirkless little bitch. 

Dabi had no idea why Shigaraki had ever allowed you to join in the first place.

You added absolutely nothing to the group.

Being quirkless meant that you were a liability in any type of fight they got into because you wouldn’t be able to defend yourself. You threw a mean punch, and you had been training with Toga in the weird-ass fighting style of hers, but it was stupid, utterly pointless because as long as Dabi and others possessed the ability to kill you without needing you near, you were a walking target. 

You were also a terrible medic. Whenever the group would return with serious and not so serious injuries, you would scream, panic, and apply bandages terribly. It was so bad that Dabi would rather die of infection than have your blubbering form try to get anywhere near his cuts and burns. 

You were a horrible liar too. Couldn’t send you into any of the Pro Hero bases or UA in an attempt to gather more information to help the group's efforts. Toga had merely transformed into a random citizen without you knowing, and your ability to be suave was a joke.

But one day, Dabi figured out why exactly Shigaraki decided to let you in, why you were someone worth letting live. He had gone to the bar for a simple drink. His head throbbing due to the fight he had gotten into while recruiting for the League. But what he came to see in that bar was that you were in the bar with Shigaraki and Kurogiri.

He looked at you as you were on your knees on the barstool. Your breasts swelling over that stupid tanktop of yours, your dumb ass shaking like a damn dog as you talked excitedly to Shigaraki. That, for whatever reason, bugged Dabi.  The tinge of color on his stupid leader’s ears and cheeks also went noticed by Dabi, and suddenly as you grabbed onto Shigaraki’s shoulders, it all made perfect sense.

You were here to be made as a whore.

Dabi ended up leaving the bar without getting his drink after all that day.

But he had caught you skipping to your assigned room, and he blocked your way, his hand shoved into his pockets as you looked down at your wide eyes.

“So that’s the role you’ll play in the world of no heroes,” Dabi spoke, his lips pulling into a lazy smirk, warmth flooding his cold skin when your own face seemed twisted with confusion and worry.

“I’m not playing any role?” you speak slowly, obviously confused, but Dabi doesn’t dwell on the confusion in your eyes or the way you step backward away from him. He follows you, stalking your every move until you’re backed against the door of his room, your doe eyes large and practically screaming for help, which only seemed to excite Dabi. You wouldn’t be finding a hero in this organization. No, you either learned how to swim, drown, or take everyone down with you. 

“Oh, so you’re not playing any games here?” Dabi asks, his hand slamming against the door right by your head, his head tilting as he leans in close to your face. He can basically breathe the anxiety spilling from your veins, festering, and throbbing underneath your skin as you find yourself unable to speak. “You joined our little group knowing that Shigaraki wanted to fuck you? Use you as the willing whore that you are?”

The fear drained from your eyes, and anger blazed instead, and for some reason, that only made Dabi more excited. He pressed up closer to you, the hardness of his cock, unable to be ignored as he pressed his swelling length to your hip.

“I’m not here to be Shigaraki’s whore,” you growled, your lips pulled back into a fearsome growl, but to Dabi, knowing the stupid, weak quirkless bitch that you were, made you look like some angry dumb puppy. “I’ve been just as wronged by this world as you have. Just because I didn’t burn off all my skin to prove I don’t fit in doesn’t mean I don’t have scars too.”

Dabi laughed, the smell of heat rising from his skin as he couldn’t help but display his power, couldn’t help but to warn you just who was capable of the most immense damage.

“Burn me,” you snapped, your nose nearly brushing against his. “Prove my fucking point.”

Dabi let out a throaty hum, the feeling of your stomach shifting against his tented pants, only serving to arouse him more. 

“Trust me, pup, I don’t have all my skin burned off,” Dabi couldn’t help but ignore your own issues of being upset as his mouth crashed against yours.

That night, Dabi realized that maybe you did serve this group in two ways, albeit one was much, much more important than the other. 

One, the lesser important reason: you brought in a new demographic. A new viewpoint of people who had been hurt by heroes and civilians who looked to All Might like a god. Quirkless people, and people with quirks that practically made them worthless, were seen as inferior because they weren’t unique. They could never be like All Might. And for that, they were seen as less, a group that deserved to die and were discriminated against for reasons far beyond their control.

Two, the more important reason: you were Dabi’s fuckhole.

This sexually frustrated, anger-fueled sex the two of you had was more than ideal, really. Dabi loved to fuck you whenever he needed, whenever he wanted. He took you anywhere and everywhere he wanted. Each time he grew bolder and bolder until he was fucking you during a meeting, fucking you while you were in a car with everyone, making your way to the next destination. 

He could care less about your whining pleas to only fuck in a room where no one could see, couldn’t care if you thought the alleyway was dirty, and the scent of dead burning bodies made your head spin. You were a quirkless fuckhole, and you would do as he told.

But Dabi would never admit you were his.

No, he would not.

Not now, not ever.

But there was something stupidly irritating and annoying hearing barely useful members of the now Paranormal Liberation Front. Everyone was obsessed with you, the useless quirkless girl who was weak and needed protection. Everyone loved the way your tits bounced when you hopped around excitedly, loved the way your ass shook when you were sitting at a bar because, for whatever damn reason, you could never sit on your fucking ass.

So, that’s where we find Dabi. His mouth pulled back into an unamused, angry snarl as you talked with some nameless member that Dabi thought was better off dead than as some deadweight help. 

“You can’t expect y/l/n-chan to be so kind to you when you’re quite the asshole to her, Dabi,” Compress chided Dabi as he took a smooth, slow drink from his sake. “You pester her daily, and from what the rumors tell me, harass her often enough that I’m surprised she hasn’t taken your face off.”

“She’s too fucking weak for that shit,” Dabi snapped, his eyes narrowing when your hand placed itself on the nameless shits arm. “She can’t do shit; that’s why she’s acting like a shallow whore. She’ll let anyone fuck her as long as it means she gets protected.”

Compress raised his eyebrow, his face not letting anything on as he slowly placed his glass down.

“Y/l/n-chan sleeps around?”

Dabi actually felt the heat rising from his skin. He didn’t know if you were, and the thought of knowing that someone other than him was fucking your tight little pussy after he did irritates him much more than he’d like. 

“I don’t fucking know, you’re the one telling me about fucking rumors. You tell me.”

“From what I hear, she doesn’t give in to anyone, despite the obvious flirting,” Compress shrugged when Dabi’s eyes locked on him in bewildered disbelief. “Why do you care, Dabi? You’re typically so aloof and annoyingly stoic. What about y/l/n-chan makes you so temperamental?”

Dabi felt his spine stiffen at those words, the inquisitive yet entirely sharp words that gutted him from the inside out. Dabi didn’t care for you. He knew he didn’t. If you dropped dead in the middle of the floor in three seconds, he knew he wouldn’t panic. He wouldn’t mourn you. He might mourn the warm body he fucked whenever he needed, sure, but not you, never just you. 

He blinked.

He didn’t need to like you for you to be his.

Heroes were what was wrong with society, but relationships were also what was wrong with people. The twisting desire for equality and equity between two different people when it should never be as such, to begin with. Dabi was powerful. You were quirkless and weak. Dabi held power, he was the one who should be deciding what you should be able to do, what you can’t, and something in the depths of his mind finally clicked. 

You were his.

You belonged to Dabi.

You were nothing without Dabi.

The laugh that poured from your lips and the man next to you, that Dabi swore he could hear right now, suddenly made sense as to why it bothered him. You don’t entertain or try to use things that don’t belong to you. You use only what is yours, and anyone who tries to touch what belongs to you is allowed capital punishment.

But Dabi, against better judgment, wasn’t a trigger happy idiot.

No, he was aware of the things idiots needed to see in order to back off. To understand that some things were there for free, and other things were already taken. He laughed, grabbing the rest of Compress’s sake and downing it before slamming it onto the table and standing up, ignoring the angered curses from Compress as he stalked toward you.

There weren’t many things in life that made Dabi lose control of his emotions, but knowing that you were out in the open without a clear mark that you were his was slowly making its way on that list. 

“Let’s go,” Dabi says, his voice perfectly calm despite the heat blazing off his every muscle. His hand was wrapped around your wrist, gripping your skin tightly as he tugged you from the barstool.

It didn’t take much for you to fall off the stool, your stupid way of sitting on bar stools allowed significant imbalance, and Dabi knew that a sharp tug is all it took to have you stumbling off.

“I was talking with Trumpet!” you cried, unable to keep from stumbling after Dabi, your eyes focused on Trumpet.

“I was speaking with y/n, if you would allow us to finish our—” Trumpet also piped up, his hands reaching to button up his suit as he stood.

“Shut up,” Dabi spoke coldly, his eyes narrowing just slightly as he took in his gaze. 

With that, Dabi continued to walk away, dragging your protesting form behind him with every great stride he took. Dabi didn’t know where he was walking, only knowing that he was ignoring every question and angry demand that filtered out of your mouth like white noise. He took sharp turns, disappearing into the alleys that he knew all too well until he found the spot he was looking for.

You were panting heavily when you suddenly slammed into Dabi’s back, exhaustion already setting in your bones from the awkward run you had to maintain in order to keep up with Dabi. You weren’t an idiot; you knew that Dabi wanted to fuck the moment that he appeared behind you with a wave of hot air. But you hadn’t expected it to be while you were in the middle of a conversation with Trumpet; while he was an asshole, Dabi always let you finish your conversations before taking you to fuck. But not this time.

Which worried you. 

Both of you had fucked the entire night last night. Your body had been abused in a million exciting ways as Dabi unleashed his libido onto you, and you had kept up swimmingly. Typically, a fuckfest like that was enough to satisfy him for a few days, two days at least, so to have him back on you within twelve hours was a bit of a shock. 

The sun was still in the sky, after all.

“You really know how to piss me the fuck off, y/n,” Dabi spoke, his tone and words ice-cold despite the blazing heat of his body. “Why is it that you think you have the right to flounder yourself off like some common bitch?”

You freeze. Oh? Was he jealous?

You had no time to even open your mouth to ask, most likely having taken too long to answer his question because his hand flared with heat, and you couldn’t help the scream that ripped through your throat. Tearing your hand from Dabi, you looked down at your burnt, throbbing skin. Your eyes widened, pained tears in your eyes as Dabi turned around, his eyes blank, cold, lifeless. 

“I’m not sure if I ever made this clear before,” Dabi asked, stalking toward you, and you whimper, holding your tender wrist to your chest as you feel something make contact with the back of your calves. “I don’t care about you. If you were to disappear the next day and never return, I wouldn’t care. Maybe I’d miss your pretty little pussy, but other than that… nothing. But you need to understand something for as long as we’re together and for how long we’re apart: you’re mine, y/n, just mine.”

Your eyes are wide, terrified of the monster before you. This wasn’t the Dabi that fucked you every night before this, this was someone else, and sour acid hits the back of your throat. 

His lips are on you without hesitation. The biting coldness of his staples on his cheeks and chin burn against your skin, and his hot hands are against the cold skin of your waist, and you gasp loudly. His tongue invades your mouth immediately, and you whimper, feeling how much colder his tongue was in comparison to yours. But you know what it’s like to share a bed with Dabi, you know that he knows of your bodies every twitch and innate desires, and like a trained dog, you cave to him despite the painful tears dripping down your cheeks.

His kisses are much like his fire, hot, encompassing, all-consuming until there was nothing left except the smell and taste of ashes and smoke. You fell to his needs immediately, the hot, swollen throb in your wrist going ignored as you kissed him back, wanting to taste the smoke on his tongue. So as the heat of his body evaporated the tears off your cheeks, you caved into his kisses. 

Your wrist throbbed as your hands reached up and curled into his hair. 

But the biting possessiveness of his body was all too apparent to you as his teeth buried into your tongue and sucked on it harshly. You gasped, your body arching into his touch as you opened your closed eyes to peer into his piercing lifeless eyes. 

You moaned, body trembling with the wild desire to make him feel good, to make yourself feel good. But you fell, his teeth letting go of your tongue and his calloused, burnt hands pushing you onto the object beneath you. The mildewy mold scent of the mattress beneath you burned into your nose, somehow damp even though there had been no rain for weeks.

Dabi was on you immediately, his body between your legs, lips simmering against your mouth once more, and his hand on your throat. His staples scraped against your chin, the cold metal scratching into your skin until it hurt. You can’t recall the last time he put this horrible power on his grips, you felt your head beginning to spin with the slow, dizzying throb of losing all oxygen, but Dabi took no mind to your struggles; in fact, it seemed to be enjoying it.

“Come on, doll, kiss me back like you actually fucking mean it,” Dabi snapped, his hands burning even more against your throat, and the other made contact with your pants. Your clothes were burnt to singe, the smell of burning fabric had long been a scent you had been familiar with, but you couldn’t even gather the energy to cry about the clothes he just burnt off your body. “Stop acting like a little bitch,” he growls, obviously noticing your shift in character, “be a good doll, and do as you’re told.”

Despite the burning, stabbing feeling in your skin, and the way you couldn’t keep the silent tears from stopping you from doing as you were told. You kiss him back as you once had before, your jaw dropping and your tongue reaching to meet his. 

Dabi growled, clearly liking the suddenly positive response from you, and you trembled against his hold. But, soon, a new scent filled your nose, a unique scent that aligned with the painful burning of flesh.

“You see, I don’t like it when things that belong to me don’t do what I want. I especially hate having to share things that are mine. Don’t get cocky, sweet thing, you’re my precious doll, but I don’t give a single shit about you,” Dabi spat against your lips, his mouth speaking against yours, and his eyes staring straight into your eyes. 

Or they would have been should you not have been in such trifling, nauseating pain as Dabi’s hand burned against your skin. His quirk sizzled against your skin, creating a perfect brand of his hand on your throat, but the pain was immeasurable, horrifically painful as you wailed against his mouth.

“Let me go, let me go, let me go!” you screamed, your hands fisting and pathetically slamming against Dabi’s shoulders, pleading to be shown mercy.

But Dabi merely looked down at you with sadistic disinterest, relishing in the way the smell of your burning skin wafted into his nose until he let go. 

You tried to scream, tried to cry to whatever god may be looking down at you to come and save you, but you found you couldn’t. The burnt, pussing bubbles of infected flesh bubbling on your throat were tight on your sweat-slicked skin, and every small movement made it feel worse.

“There we go!” Dabi grins again, his eyes wild and almost demented as he flips you over so that your naked ass is hanging out in the air, able to be manipulated to his will. The tears in your eyes were still streaming down your face, intermixing with the blood and popped blisters on your skin as Dabi pressed you into a position that would make things easier for him to fuck you in. “I can’t fuck you when your cunt is buried in this box.”

You make a noise, a small noise that sends a powerful wave of nausea through you as Dabi separates your legs and curls his fingers within your slick cunt. 

“Glad to see that your little pussy is still wet as fuck,” Dabi groans, his fingers scissoring deep within you, stretching out your hole until you pathetically cries into the mildew scented mattress. Your body pulsated with a different stimulus; the pain in your throat still burned and was feeling itchy. The thud in your wrist hurt to move. But the pleasure of his fingers buried deep in your cunt made your eyes cross and your mouth pant in the overcoming sensation of your pussy being tended to.

“D-Dabi,” you manage to croak out, the tears running down your cheeks, once more intermixing with the thick blood and puss on the burn. Your voice was disgustingly hoarse, sounding akin to someone with smoker's lungs. “P-Please.”

“P-Please what?” Dabi mocked, his hips grinding against your exposed, pert ass. You could feel the hard cock in his pants, the shift in the fabric as he dropped his own pants and underwear to rut his piercing covered cock through your asscheeks. “Don’t think about me fucking your ass, you dirty fucking bitch, I’m not gonna do that weird shit.”

“N-No!” you whimper, your unburnt hand reaching behind you to grab onto the fabric of his coat that he refused to remove. Somehow, the movement made the throbbing flesh on your throat hurt more, and you swallowed the rising bile in your throat, gagging. “D-Dabi, f-fuck!”

“You want something better than my fingers?” he continued to question, uncaring that he knew exactly what you meant by those words. He was too focused on the way your walls were much tighter around his fingers right now, a vice trap that made him both eager and unwilling to shove his cock deep within your womb just yet. 

You mewl in frustration, your hips shifting against his intruding fingers, desperate to get the coldness of his pierced cock within you already. The pain was still very much alive, but the pleasurable build in your core was quickly outweighing your mood. 

“Oh, I get it,” Dabi sighs, his fingers exiting your throbbing, soaked cunt, both his hands slamming onto your ass, gripping the flesh with all the strength he had. “You want another fucking brand. You want the world to know who you fucking belong to, who fucking owns you until the day you die.”

The words send a panicked throb in your stomach, but before you could protest, before you could make note that this was not something you wanted, his fingers grew hot. Hotter and hotter, they grew until the blue of his flame felt like scorching white heat under your skin. Impossibly unbearable pain and branding scarred into your skin as you’re able to ignore the resulting pain in your throat to scream so loudly, your voice bounces off the alley walls multiple times. 

You can’t see what he did, but you can tell that his handprints are scarred to your ass; you can feel the puss-filled blisters rising from the skin as Dabi continues to massage the skin as if it was a bruise and not some second-degree burn. You sobbed into the mattress, your face buried into the ugly fabric, snot, and tears pooling onto the surface until you were choking on your spit and rising bile. 

Before you could even adjust to the pain, your mind pounding and reeling with the stinging, melting sensation on your ass, something thick, cold, and pierced rams into your throbbing cunt. Your body lurches forward with the initial thrust, your body, despite the pain, jumping from the shock of Dabi’s cock entering you.

It’s a familiar feeling, a feeling you loved, but you can’t focus on the sense of the many balled piercing gliding against your ruffled walls. The extra stimulus pointedly ignored because the pain in your ass was currently outweighing the pleasure he was giving you. But Dabi doesn't care. Why would he care? You’re his doll, and right now, he’s in heaven. Your cunt was blistering hot against his cock and oh so fucking tight. Dabi knew why he was so obsessed with you, and it started with that tight pussy of yours that could milk him dry without even trying. 

Dabi smiled, his hands raising off the branded handprints on your ass that were caked with already horribly forming scabs, blisters, pus, and blood. He felt giddy seeing your ass, covered with trembles and sweat, covered with his handprint. There was no denying you were his, no denying that you were here to serve the League as nothing except his fuck doll. No one would want you now that you had three of his handprints branded on you, and not even he could love someone with as ugly scars on your body.

So, with the stammering, choking cries that poured from your mouth for Dabi to stop because his rutting hips slamming against your newly branded ass was too much, Dabi let his head drop back, flooded with the sense of elation and euphoria. 

You were his.

Finally his.

Only his.

“It hurts!” you screamed, your hips shifting in your feeble attempt to escape his barbaric hold. “It hurts, Dabi!”

“If it hurts so much, why the fuck is your cunt so wet?” Dabi mocked, his hips slamming into you with deeper, faster strokes. “Why the fuck are you moving your hips like a desperate whore if it hurts?”

You howl in your pain crossed pleasure, the tears soaking your face, and the mattress seemingly flowing from you without end in sight. Much like the squelching slick in your cunt that grows louder and louder and the Jacob's ladder on his cock pressed further and further into your warm velvet walls. 

“Because it hurts!” you screech, your fingers tearing into the mattress, your body spasming from the overload of sensation. Your mind slips through the cracks of consciousness, and the pain begins to override your mind.

“Oi, oi, oi!” Dabi yells, his hand coming down to slap the blistering brand on your ass, completely waking you back up. “Don’t you dare knock out on me, doll. I might call you a doll, but I don’t want you to be some fucking dumbass ragdoll when you’re on my cock!”

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, your eyes crossing and your vision spinning with the onslaught of sharp, stinging pain. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“Mm,” Dabi hums, clearly pleased with your apology. “Seems like after so long, you’ve finally accepted your useless, pathetic, quirkless ass can’t do shit.”

So, his hands shift from your ass and move onto your hips, enjoying the way your skin is so soft, so easily bruisable beneath his hold. Your body seems to block out the pain he brings to your body and only accept the lulling pleasure of it all. The noises of his drilling cock into your sobbing cunt is loud, the sopping noises loud and soft in both your ears. Dabi has half a mind to wonder if anyone would walk by the alleyway, hear your desperate, pathetic noises and call the cops. 

He smiles lazily as his cock brushes against the wall of your cervix. Would he kill you in front of them all and then them? Maybe he would make you beg for his cock more in front of the officers and kill them all should they be aroused. He laughed as his cock slammed into your cervix, the squealing pleasure ripping from your throat at the feeling, and Dabi felt light.

Oh, yes, yes, yes.

How pathetic would that be?! Heroes getting aroused as he fucked such a poor girl in front of them! Of course, they’d have to be killed because that would be immoral of them, and not to mention that once anyone got a lustful eye on, you deserved to die.

You were his.

Only his. 

“Who does this pussy belong to?!” Dabi snaps, his hand grabbing your hair by the roots. “Who?”

“Dabi!” you laugh giddily, your face still streaming with tears, your lips bloody and bitten raw. “Dabi! Dabi! Dabi!”

Dabi growls in his satisfying pleasure, his hand throwing your head back onto the mattress, and his hands press onto your shoulders as he begins to thrust faster, harder, more power into your clenching tight cunt. His fingers tear into your skin, breaking the skin and watching the ruby red liquid ooze from your skin. 

That causes you to scream, your face twisted in slight pain, but Dabi presses onward. 

He has one last thing to do.

“Such a good fuck doll, don’t you think you deserve to be rewarded for being such a good fuck? For having such a sweet, tight pussy?” Dabi asks, his teeth biting against the nape of your neck as he continued to fuck you until fluids were beginning to seep from your cunt. “I’m going to make sure that everyone in the fucking world knows you belong to me, that you are my precious fucking doll and no one else's, okay?”

You keen loudly, your body shivering underneath his, and your head nodding, your tongue unable to produce any more words.

Dabi raised his finger, the tip blazing with a small, concentrated blue flame, and he makes contact with the skin on your back.

Dabi Dabi Dabi Dabi

His name is written repetitively on your back. The layers of skin on your back wholly burned off so that the twitching pink of your skin muscles are shown. No blood comes from there.

Dabi laughs, delighted with how fucking perfect you look with his name on your back, and you seemed to have flipped out of your broken mindset and shoved back into the horrors of the pain your body was experiencing. You gagged loudly, screaming and twitching with immense pain, but Dabi continues.

“You don’t mean shit to me, though, doll; I hope you know that!” Dabi snickers, his cock throbbing when he felt the familiar milking sensation of your cunt as you finally came around him. He continued to ram his cock into you, savagely uncaring of how you begged from him to stop, pathetically asked for him to heed. “You’re nothing more than my cumslut, nothing more than some stupid sex doll for me to use. And now you’re completely ruined! No one will want you with my brand all over you! No one will, and I sure as hell don’t want you forever!”

Your body stills under him, not quite limp as though you might pass out, but cold, frozen.

Dabi doesn’t care; he never has as he countries to hammer his cock within you, his tongue sweeping over his front teeth before spitting onto his branded name on your skin. You flinch greatly at the burning sensation, your eyes trying not to close with unconsciousness as ropes of his cum and seed spill into your cunt.

You lay there, unable to move, as Dabi stands up, quickly dressing and leaving you with a mere chuckle.

You were ruined forever, you suddenly realized as we make our way back to the beginning scene.

Cold, used, quirkless.

You had no purpose in life except to be Dabi’s whore, and even he didn’t want you.

The darkness consumed you in the worst of ways right then.

[fictionkinfessions]

@ piercing ghostface: heads up, there’s a shitload of piercing misinfo around. Make sure you go to an APP (Association of Professional Piercers) member, because they’re the only real way (if you’re not super well-versed in piercing care and stuff) you can guarantee the quality of both the jewellery + aftercare and the piercer’s training.

Because there’s no regulatory body for piercers, there’s a lot of people who sell low-quality jewellery / aftercare or use outdated techniques or advice, which are all risk factors in rejection and infection. Something you especially don’t want on your face. APP members, on the other hand, have to follow the most up-to-date health and safety advice and sell quality jewellery* and sterile saline wound wash (salt water, especially homemade, isn’t good enough, as it can cause irritation) in order to be eligible for a membership. Not all good piercers are APP members, but all APP members are good piercers, and if you don’t know what you’re talking about, you should err on the side of caution and go to an APP member.

* what this means is that the jewellery is of solid implant grade (or a biocompatible grade of a metal without an implant grade) that is polished to a mirror finish. Plated jewellery is bad because when it inevitably breaks, it’ll cause irritation, especially if the metal underneath isn’t biocompatible. Not-mirror finish is bad because even when we can’t see it, the tiny bumps and stuff in the metal will cause irritation to your piercing and can increase the risk of infection in particular because you’re getting tiny cuts from it.

Also, if you get a bump on your piercing, it’s probably an irritation bump, not a keloid. Learn the difference and it’ll save you a lot of worry. Irritation bumps go away when you address the problem (eg: jewellery quality, aftercare issues, etc.)

I’ve got somewhere in the realm of ten piercings and intend on getting more, and I’ve made the mistake of seeing someone who isn’t an APP member before. Having to get several things repierced because they either got infected or rejected isn’t fun, and it’s expensive to have to get it done multiple times. You want one good one that’ll last rather than a super cheap one that’s got a high risk of health issues and will need to be replaced.

(I know this isn’t directly related to kinstuff, MPC, but I felt it was important to state because of the actual health & safety impacts of a lot of the piercing info floating around, and especially so given that the person is obviously new to piercing stuff)

[themetaphorgirl]

in which Emily makes a poor choice

HEY Y’ALL I AM BACK!!! WITH A PATRON SAINT DRABBLE!!

Y’all can thank @linguinereid for this one!! Sweet Bee suggested this and I ended up writing part of it while I was in line for rides at Epcot. 

I’m excited to be writing and posting again!! Please tell me what y’all think of this one, and tell me what I’ve missed in the past couple of weeks!!

---------

Emily poked at her ear, trying to twist around to get a better look in the mirror. “Shit,” she mumbled, wincing as she prodded a sore spot. She leaned across the bathroom counter, almost sitting in the sink. “I think I fucked up. Shit.”

“That looks infected.”

She jumped in surprise and fell off the counter, hitting the faucet on her way down and splashing water across her shirt. “What the fuck!” she exclaimed. Spencer stood in the bathroom doorway, head tilted and eyes wide like a very small owl. “You little gremlin, you scared the shit out of me! What are you doing in here?”

“You left the door open,” Spencer said. “What’s wrong with your ear?”

She fumbled to turn off the faucet and pick up Hotch’s knocked-over toothbrush. “Nothing.”

“It’s red and swollen,” he said. “That’s a sign of infection. What did you do?” His eyes went wide. “Did you get that piercing after Hotch told you it was a bad idea?”

She smoothed her hair down over her ear. “Nope,” she said. “Why would you think that?”

“I heard you guys arguing about it,” he said. “Hotch said it was against dress code, and you said you didn’t give two fucks about dress code, and he said you were shit at cleaning the piercings you already have and you’d fuck up your ears, and you said-”

“Okay, okay, you and your eidetic memory can stop at literally any time,” Emily said, rolling her eyes. “It’s not that big a deal. There was a girl at the party last weekend who said she’d pierced like everybody’s ears at camp last summer, and she’d always wanted to try an industrial, and-” She paused. “Why am I explaining myself to you? You’re ten.”

“Nine.”

“Close enough. Why are you here, anyway?”

Spencer shifted his weight. “I have to pee,” he said.

“All right, I’ll get out,” Emily said. “But not a word to Hotch, understand? Not a single word. He cannot know about this. You know how smug he gets when he right about something.”

“Is he right, though?” Spencer said. “Did you fuck up your ear?”

“Okay, no swearing either, Alex will murder me if you pick up on me swearing,” Emily said. She stepped out of the bathroom and gave Spencer a little push inside. “Seriously, though. Don’t tell Alex either. You know she’ll be pissed at me too. I’ll- I’ll buy you that Star Wars lego set you want as long as you keep your mouth shut.”

Spencer brightened. “The Millennium Falcon?” he said.

“Sure, sure, why not, just keep your mouth shut!”

She closed the bathroom door and went back down the hall to the common room. It was Derek’s week to pick for movie night; he was having a great time with whatever Will Ferrell comedy he’d chosen, but Hotch was focused on his homework and Alex was reading a book. Emily sat down in her usual spot, tucking her legs underneath her. Her ear was still burning, but she brushed her hair over it surreptitiously. She could keep it a secret, as long as Spencer did. It would be fine.

By Tuesday, she realized it was not fine.

Her ear continued to swell and throb, the skin red and stretched tight around the barbell in the cartilage. She’d had to actually style her hair every morning instead of throwing it up in a messy ponytail or bun, or asking JJ or Alex to braid it for her. It wouldn’t take long for Alex to catch if she kept this up- she was famous for rolling out of bed at the last minute, getting up early to do her hair was drastically out of character. But she wasn’t sure who to be more afraid of catching her, Hotch or Alex.

She sat down at their usual table in the dining hall and pulled her hair back behind her ear, hissing when her nails brushed the irritated skin. “Oh, fuck,” she mumbled under her breath. It wasn’t good. It really wasn’t good. 

Spencer climbed up on the chair beside her. “Are you doing okay?” he asked. 

She sighed heavily. “How bad does it look?” she asked. 

Spencer knelt on the chair so he could lean his elbows on the table. “Pretty bad,” he said. “Ew, is it oozing? I think it’s oozing.” He wrinkled his nose. “You should tell somebody.”

“Like hell I will,” she said, pulling her hair back into place. “This is a hill I will die on.” She paused. “This...this won’t kill me, will it? I won’t actually die on this hill?”

“Probably not, but infection was one of the leading causes of death during the Civil War,” he shrugged. “Try rinsing with saltwater, that might help.”

“Really?”

“Couldn’t hurt. I mean, in a manner of speaking. It’ll probably hurt a lot.”

Emily blinked. “That wasn’t reassuring, babe,” she said.

Hotch walked over to them and set his tray down. “What are you two talking about?” he asked as he sat down and cracked the top of his yellow Red Bull.

“Nothing,” Emily said quickly, dropping her fork in an effort to pick it up fast.

Alex set a glass of milk down on Spencer’s tray. “Sit on your butt or you’re going to fall on the floor again,” she said. 

Spencer tilted his head back to look up at her. “I wanted chocolate milk,” he objected. 

“Plain first, darling,” she said, bending to kiss his forehead. “Now sit down before you fall out of your chair.” Spencer obeyed, sliding down from his knees to sit down. 

Emily poked her fork around in her scrambled eggs. They were way too yellow and a little watery around the edges, and her stomach turned. “Emily, are you okay?” Hotch asked. 

“Yeah, fine, why do you ask?”

He gestured towards her tray with his Red Bull can. “I don’t think I’ve seen you eat anything since you came back from the party on Friday night,” he said. “Are you still sulking because I told you not to pierce your ear?”

“I don’t sulk,” Emily scoffed.

“Yes, you do,” Hotch said. “You’re pissed because you know I’m right, and it would be a terrible idea to get an industrial. Especially since you don’t have a guardian over eighteen to sign off on it, so it’d be illegal.”

Emily stabbed her fork into the eggs. “I’m fine and I’m not sulking,” she said. “But you’re wrong. I’ll be fine if I get my ear pierced.”

She met Spencer’s gaze. His hazel eyes were wide, glancing over first at Hotch and then at Alex, but he kept his mouth shut. Her ear throbbed, but she wasn’t going to give anyone the satisfaction of knowing they were right. 

By Friday, she knew they were right, and she hated it, but damn, her ear hurt. 

She huddled in the corner of the library sofa, her history textbook open on her lap but long forgotten. Her ear was an ever-present pain now, too sensitive to touch, and oozing something disgusting. 

The library was quiet and peaceful, rain tapping steadily on the window. James was sorting through his anatomy flashcards while Dave pretended to write a paper while he was really working on the novel he claimed he wasn’t writing. Spencer was lying on his tummy on the floor, absorbed in a book far above his grade level. The rest of the kids were at clubs or practices, and Alex passed by in her own paths as she shelved books and answered questions.

She glanced up to see Spencer watching her poke at her ear; she dropped her hand and glared at him. “Don’t say anything,” she said to him sharply in Russian. “Remember the Millennium Falcon.”

He sighed heavily. “Your ear looks really bad,” he said. His Russian wasn’t as strong as his Italian, and his accent was terrible, but at least James and Dave wouldn’t understand them.

“Not a word!” she said.

Alex plunked down on the opposite side of the couch, jostling Emily and making her scowl. “I’m taking a break,” she sighed. “The sophomores are working on their poetry projects and I don’t want to discuss Ezra Pound anymore.”

Spencer pushed himself up from the floor. “Alex?” he said. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course, dearest,” she said, taking his hands in hers. “What’s up?”

“If I told you I wanted to do something and you said no, and I did it anyway, would you be mad at me?” he asked.

Emily shot him a dirty look, but he ignored her. “Well, I might be a bit disappointed, but I don’t think I’d be mad,” Alex said, squeezing his hands. 

“If I did the thing anyway, and I ended up getting hurt, would you be mad at me?” he asked. 

“No, I wouldn’t,” Alex said, drawing him onto her lap.

“And you wouldn’t tell me you told me so? And you’d help me?” he continued. 

She frowned, clearly concerned over this line of conversation, and hugged him. “Of course I’d help you, baby,” she said. She stroked his hair away from his forehead. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

Spencer leaned around Alex’s shoulder to make direct eye contact with Emily. She sighed heavily. “So...you know how I wanted to get an industrial piercing, and you and Hotch said it would be a bad idea?” she said hesitantly.

Alex’s eyes narrowed. “Yes,” she said. “Why?” Emily tucked her hair slowly behind her ear. “Emily, holy shit!”

“It’s pretty bad, huh?” Emily said glumly.

Alex moved Spencer hastily off her lap and leaned over Emily to take a better look at her ear. “Oh my god,” she said. “James, can you come take a look at this?”

James pulled his headphones off. “Hm?” he said. “Oh shit! Emily, what did you do?”

She submitted reluctantly to his poking and prodding. “So a girl at the party last week offered to pierce my ear,” she said. “And it...kind of went wrong.”

“That looks like it hurts,” Alex said, smoothing her hair. “It looks super infected.”

“Yeah, that’s the medical term for it,” James said. “Holy shit, Prentiss, I can’t believe you pulled a Parent Trap.”

“A Parent Trap?”

“Yeah, when Hallie pierces Annie’s ear with a sewing needle, an apple, and...you know what, never mind.”

Emily winced as the earring shifted. “Can you just...make Hotch promise that he won’t say I told you so?” she said. 

“I think he’ll agree that you’ve suffered enough,” Alex reassured her. 

Spencer hovered at her elbow. “I would have said something sooner, but Emily said she’d buy me the Millennium Falcon set,” he said.

“Please don’t scold me for bribing the baby, either,” Emily said. 

“Okay, I might scold you about that one.”

[permian-tropos]

Daniil - Liberosis

Didn’t think this prompt word would become so poignant so soon. The subject matter wound up kind of surreal and taking whatever path I thought might be interesting but sometimes it’s nicer to let other people search for meaning in something. 

IDK yeah I just wanted to publish this. Contains canon-typical misery.

Liberosis: The desire to care less about things.

-

It rains again, always with that damn rain, and inside of each puddle in the street is the reflection of a man with cold eyes. They’re a little bit sardonic, as if the protective cloth tied over his mouth obscures a world-weary smirk. They track movement deliberately, and never dart or flash.

When did this happen? When did his features freeze in place like this? It’s interesting. The last time Dankovsky saw his own reflection, he was burned out like a candle stub.

This is better. You’d rather see a second wind from the Capital doctor on his rounds, a man who cares less and does more, even if what he does isn’t much use to anyone. It’ll give people less reason to panic.

The plague is spreading on the wings of panic. That’s why the patrolmen show no mercy to the sick, those shambling mummies, when they stray into the streets.

Dankovsky never gave such an order. The man in the puddle wears his intentions well: But I wouldn’t countermand it.

When you think about it, the only way to fight the plague is to resist your natural human desire to seek help, or even the comforting touch of another; instead you must succumb in solitude, to save others.

The nature of epidemics really is to target the most precious aspects of our being…

“What do I do? What do I do? I’m lost…”

Dankovsky first expects that wheedling voice to come from a child, but it’s too knowing, like it’s playing a game.

Sometimes they’re called mimes, but they talk too much. They’re more amused by the circumstances than the name Tragedian suggests. Subconsciously, Dankovsky has gotten into the habit of treating them as if there is not a human under that patchwork black cloth, but paper stuffing, or an animated wire frame. They’re an oddly useless counterpart to the orderlies, and they certainly don’t answer to the Bachelor.

“One of you?” he sighs, backing up a few steps. “What do you want from me this time…? Get it over with.”

The masked man dawdling under the streetlamp tips its head slowly one way, then the other. “His Excellency thinks I spoke to him?”

“I’m the only one on the street. Unless you’re raving, in which case I have no time for lunatics.”

“How cruel. In any case… I’ve lost my mask.” The Tragedian shields its eye-holes from the rain with a hand, and looked far and wide.

“It’s right on your head,” Dankovsky grouses. “Now what’s my reward for finding it, a bag of marbles? Or wait, you’ve lost those too.”

“Oh, no, not this. This is my face. You see how blank and plain it is? It wants a character, a role to play. A mask, a mask.”

Dankovsky folds his arms. “What about playing a man who doesn’t leave his house… wherever he comes from, his burrow, his den, and doesn’t get himself into trouble?”

The Tragedian offers an apologetic shrug and spread palms. “I tried it but alas, it weren’t for me. I didn’t know my lines, and came too late…”

The Bachelor mutters, “You’ll be a dog soon – playing dead.”

“I’ve lost a mask of careless cruelty… I think it would be fun to wear a while. It grins at simple victories and doesn’t shed a tear for those less fortunate. I’d like to be the one who laughs in Hell…”

“Fine, I’ll look for something like that… I suppose.” It wasn’t the first bizarre request he’d taken, and been able to fulfill despite not understanding it at first. Whatever the Tragedian was looking for, it would turn up eventually.

Now the Tragedian was clasping its hands together, pleading. It was remarkably expressive for having, as it said, such a blank face. “But if perhaps you’d let me borrow yours…”

“That’s completely unsanitary.” What kind of idiot request was that?

“I mean the one behind the cloth, the visage that regards the world so icily…”

The Tragedian pokes an impudent, spidery finger right between the Bachelor’s eyebrows, which pinch together in great chagrin.

“I don’t know what you’re getting at… but I get the impression you’re not asking for a real object.” He slaps the finger away. “If you want to wear my face, playact all you like. Just don’t impersonate me to anyone important, or use my name for any stupid ventures. Or you’ll regret it.”

Dankovsky leaves the actor to mime out his gratitude, head fervently bowing, clasped hands pumping up and down. He’d expected to get something out of this exchange, but perhaps it’s a longer-term investment. Or it’ll be quite the farce when the thespian starts wandering around the town pretending to be him. He’s not sure what he’s given away.

Signal fires mark the start of an infected district. He tightens the cloth around his mouth and nose and rushes in. There’s one house in particular he has to visit, so he very much intends to keep his head down all the way there.

His ears are assaulted by wails of the dying, carried far even by stagnant windless air.

At first he doesn’t understand why his skin is prickling. Senseless paranoia.

I gave away my mask…

It doesn’t mean anything!

But something’s changed in him for sure.

Even though it’s illogical, he’s shivering like ice has been poured down his shirt.

His eyes catch movement and he jolts away at first, because he’s learned to flee whenever a human shape stumbles across his path in districts like these. One filthy touch from any of these walking corpses could pass on the infection.

“Don’t,” he whispers. “Don’t come near me…”

“Help us…” the mummy gabbles. It’s sobbing under the linen wraps, but those cries might be of relief as well as pain. “Please, please, you’ve got to help us… I’ve been looking all over for a doctor… You’ve got pills, haven’t you? Kind sir… spare us something… even just a sleeping draught…”

Dankovsky should be fleeing, and he’s frozen instead. He should do the compassionate thing and put a bullet through this faceless cloth-wrapped head, and he cannot. He has the unsettling thought he would rather turn the gun on himself.

The supplicant takes his inaction as permission. Its hand has seized him and is crawling up his forearm, creeping as surely as a mold on a wall.

“There must be something…” the infected one pleads. “If only to… I just wanted to… oh, but it’s so… my head’s spinning… I can hardly hear myself, can you hear me? Am I speaking? Are you there?”

More dying souls are shambling out of the alleys and either they can smell healthy skin like sharks smell blood or they’re spotting him through the gauze over their eyes and immediately recognizing him. Two have emerged from behind one building… a third and fourth from a park…

The dead come to drag him down into the earth. Rain pours down his cheeks.

“Hey!”

There’s someone behind him, shouting, but he doesn’t realize it’s directed at him until—  

“What do you think you’re doing, dummy? Dummy Dankovsky!”

“Hah?” He’s unstuck when that strident childish voice pierces his ears through the white noise.

In comes charging none other than the wandering saint girl, shoes pattering and splashing through the sodden pavement. She spreads her palms out like she’s pushing out a great wave of force from them, some kind of heavenly wind, and even though no immediate magic goes off with a theatrical bang and puff of smoke, the sickened townsperson withdraws.

Clara catches Dankovsky’s arm. Her grip is mighty steel.

“You didn’t think you could heal them with your touch, did you?” Her tone is either mocking or heartachingly sincere. She’s too peculiar to ever be one thing or another, so maybe it’s both. “Don’t… don’t get those funny ideas into your head, okay? You’ll make people worry about you…”

Of course he finds her words ironic, but not surprising. It’s the usual way that young people parrot the things they’ve been told by others, as a way of expressing concern.

Especially ironic now that she’s extending her free hand towards the bandaged wretch, with a strained but beatific smile, flashing white teeth. Her fingers unfurl, flexing, preparing for an incredible sleight-of-hand.

“Don’t be scared,” coaxes the Changeling. “I’ll take care of you!”

“Careful—!” the Bachelor croaks, voice stolen by panic. But he still waits with bated breath, wondering if he’s about to witness a miracle.

But as soon as Clara’s palm brushes the gauze-wrapped fingertips, the infected person’s hands turn to claws. They gasp and clutch their chest, rocking on their heels, head bobbing.

It’s almost as if they’re trying to express a profound devotion and love that cannot fit inside them. Then they exhale without a word, collapsing in a heap, like a thread over their head has been snipped.

Clara’s smile shrinks by millimeters. Water droplets slide off it, dropping from the corners of her lips.

“Why…?” Her query is a quiet chime, a small tolling bell.

“Leave it, leave it. It was a myocardial infarction,” Dankovsky mutters. “Plainly, a heart attack. It’s usual for them to die like this in the end… Perhaps they were startled by us… Overwhelmed by a moment of hope.”

“I thought I was the one who healed…” the girl says, eyes fogged with confusion. “I mixed it up… Even we can’t tell us apart anymore…?”

Damn this… The girl’s delusions are only going to worsen now. Whoever’s been letting her roam about without supervision needs to rethink their priorities. She used to irritate Dankovsky with her proud preaching, and he was afraid she’d be able to stir the town’s population into a fervor. They come out of their homes in search of her sometimes.

Still, it’s possible she’s been witnessing frightening things for days — or longer? who knows where she came from or what she’s suffered to be without a family now — and has convinced herself she must have a purpose. Whose mind doesn’t falter like that in the face of an insane world?

The Bachelor doesn’t think he’s nearly as paternal as his rough-and-tumble counterpart, the favorite of the orphan underclass, Burakh. But Burakh’s not here right now.

Dankovsky slings a strict enclosing arm around Clara’s shoulders.

“You didn’t do it, Clara…” he commands her to believe, as his heart keeps minutely panging in that new way that he’s not accustomed to. “Don’t think about it. Pull that ratty scarf over your mouth and nose and keep moving.”

She’s stumbling after him, reluctantly keeping apace. “But can’t you see I’m not her…?”

“Whoever you are, I don’t care,” Dankovsky mutters. He stares only ahead, at the distant waterlogged signal pyre marking the invisible border between poison and safety.

[savagetrickster]

D.Gray Man | Kanda Yu (NSFW)

Okay so I kinda got carried away while writing for this request. Somehow it has escalated to R-rated stuff oops XD But honestly it was so fun writing this! I hope you wouldn’t mind me putting more than you had requested.  

So this is like my first NSFW for D.Gray man. I guess this fandom deserve a taste of NSFW as well since BNHA got the attention for that XD 

Apologies for errors, again.

Warning(s): 18+, implied breeding kink (duh, you even surprised?), unprotected sex, pregnancy

.

She thought about how lucky she was to be allocated a relatively simple mission that was only a day away from the branch and partnered with Kanda like he was the cherry on top. 

Missions together were rare. After Kanda was appointed as a new General, the opportunities to spend time with each other became miserably sparse.

He was a busy man then but now with his promotion that comes with bigger responsibilities, he was an even busier man. 

There was nothing but a big empty gap between them. What they have right now felt like a long-distance relationship. Most of the time his room was empty since being a General required his attention outside the branch. 

Even with time granted to them when he was home, kisses were curt and touches were brief. 

That was why being assigned to this mission with Kanda alone was a golden opportunity. Rare and precious to her. 

Even if it meant being attacked by Tyki Mikk on their way back. 

Well, that was what she thought until Kanda appeared before her, standing between a harsh slash down across the air that could have killed her if he wasn’t fast enough to intercept.

Kanda was fast enough to step between them but a second too late from deflecting the attack with Mugen.

.

Gloom stayed stubbornly in her eyes as she worked on bandaging the bloodied wound across Kanda’s chest. 

She had set herself straight to work on Kanda the moment she forced him to sit down on the bed in the inn they had been staying in, despite his protest.

Recurring memory of him taking the blow for her. The spray of his blood over her shook her. 

Throughout the rest of the battle against their enemy, she dealt her blows with rage upon witnessing that. 

She was worried, scared, and angry. 

So damn angry at the Noah. 

So damn angry at Kanda. 

So damn angry at herself.

“Yu, what you did just now wasn’t necessary.” Kanda raised his eyes to her. 

He had already given up trying to stop her futile effort bandaging him. His regenerative seal would heal him but she insisted on preventing infection before it did its work.  

“....please don’t do that again.” 

His gaze turned incredulous. “And let you die?” His fingers curled into the bed underneath.

Bitterness clenched around her heart, “Maybe.” 

A hiss sifted through her gritted teeth. “You’re not a shield. You’re someone precious to me and I’d rather die than see you do that to yourself-”

She didn’t know how or when; it was abrupt and too fast.

Her breath shuddered out of her as she suddenly found herself pinned down on the bed by an irritated, glaring glint blazing down from Kanda’s face.

Kanda stared back down at her, towering over her with a hot swirl of emotions swelling in his heart.

Before he felt anything for her, he was just a man drifting aimlessly in this long, suffering war as an exorcist. 

Missions after missions. 

Akumas after akumas.

Battles after battles against the Noahs.

That was what his life was all about. 

It was like a dark tunnel without the light at the end of it. There was no goal, there was no end.

Given how bleak his circumstances were, he had never spared a thought about his future. He was just a soldier or in a technical, more crude sense, a walking weapon.

That was what Exorcists were. Unwilling hosts for the Innocence - a curse that would follow them till death. Even for him, death was hard to come by.

But with (Name) in his life. 

He wasn’t so pessimistic about his circumstances anymore. The future didn’t seem so bleak anymore. He bore hopes for what the aftermath of this cruel war would bring about.

She was the light at the end of this dark tunnel. 

“If what I did keeps you safe,” Kanda felt his restraint over himself breaking. The words he had kept to himself for a long time wanted to spill.  “I’ll keep being that shield.” 

He had always wished she could be taken off the battlefield. 

Every time he was out there roaming the lands as a General he was made to be, his mind was always crazy worried about her. 

Knowing she was also out there risking her life.

He knew he was being a hypocrite here, but the fear and worry that gripped him every time his mind strayed to thoughts of her made him wistful.

The urge to use his higher authority to pull her out of her duty was tempting every single time. Just to keep her safe and as far away from the lurking dangers this war was embodied with.

The emotions bottled up in him fanned with every breath he took, his piercing eyes wavering on her. 

He wanted her.

It had something to do with pent-up need for her he had neglected due to his duties. The emotions in him were not so innocent either.

The last thread of restraint on himself broke the moment she extended a hand up to his face with a tender soft look in her eyes. 

His body wanted hers. 

There was nothing holding back anymore. 

He couldn’t, even with the rational voice screaming in his head. The carnal urge in him was smothering and drove through him powerfully.

A trembling breath left him as his lips met hers and pressed into her with an urgent need, immediately inciting a soft moan humming against his prying mouth. 

Their mingling breaths were hasty and shivering as the feverish kiss deepened with tilting heads and moans.

His hands were busy. Her hands were busy. 

Clothes were shredded off them and tossed carelessly in the heat of their passion. Between their heated actions, wild hands roamed. 

Her body grew more and more ready for his.

And his for hers.

His hands eventually found their way to her thighs and pushed apart with a firm grip on them as he settled himself between them.

Their panting lips parted as their dazed, wavering gaze met.

A fleeting whimper slipped through her lips as he pushed himself into her, completely buried in one powerful thrust.

His toned, chiseled chest stuttered with a shaky exhale as he pulled himself through the tightness gripping onto him. 

Towering over her with raw hunger in his gaze, the thrust driven back into her tore a broken cry from her. 

The blistering white flash of pleasure accompanied the jolting wide stretch inside her.

The bed creaked and protested under them, joining her cries and his growls as he pummeled into her fiercely. 

Strained grunts and growls rumbled in his chest as he leaned into her, his big hands sliding over her smaller ones and her legs responsively wrapping snugly around his waist. 

Under her digging fingers, his taut muscles rippled across his sweaty back, resonating with every thrust.

Everything else fell past them. Fell past her. Fell past him.

Now, they were only a man and woman making love. They were nothing more than that. 

Not Exorcists.

Not a General.

Not pitiful soldiers picked for a mad war.

Just them.

The wet squelches of their mixed fluids became loud enough to join the erotic reverberation filling the room as his thrusts begun to grow hectic. 

Their lips met again. Desperate and heated. 

Muffled moans and growls slipped into the dense air between kisses. 

Her heart felt like it was about to burst from her love for him. There was so much that the soft, breathy ‘I love you’ she murmured against his passionate lips was inevitable.

Kanda said nothing to that. But the pressing need of his lips against hers and the firm squeeze around her hands right after was a clear answer to her. 

The next stronger and primal thrusts he plunged into her also told her all he wanted to say. 

Enough to push her to the edge fast. 

She was close.

Enough to make her snatch her lips away from his with loud moans tumbling out of her.

She was…so close.

The muscles in her hands against his broad back tensed.

Her legs around him tightened curtly.

The next slam through her, his cock shoving inside with a rough prod did it for her.

A broken cry sitting between a sob and a whimper spiked between her moans as her eyes nearly rolled back at the shattering wave of her orgasm.

The shuddering grunt from Kanda joined her as he relished in the warm pour of her arousal over his aching self in her release.

Breathy grunts continued to fall from his lips as he pushed himself up, his hands slipping away from her to hook under her knees.

Now towering over her, Kanda pushed her thighs wider apart to accommodate his raging thrusts.

The curl of his toned biceps clenching and unclenching as his eyes fell onto where every thrust was announced by loud, lewd squelches, watching with rumbling growls as his cock pounded, plummeting in and out of her dripping, clutching heat. 

His piercing eyes looked even more piercing than ever as he raised them to her face, relentlessly hammering into her with fervor. 

His heated gaze raised to her, greedily taking in her as he worked intensely between her thighs. 

Gazing back at him through weak fluttering blinks, her red, flustered face panting up at him was an added fuel to the hungry, animalistic desire in him. 

To his vigorously rocking body.

He could feel himself filling up almost too much. The load inside his cock was a pressure too tight for him to hold in any longer. Together with the lustful urge to let go in the hazy heat, he drove his next thrust into her with a strong shove.

Her dragging moan joined his strangled grunt as a white flash of pleasure ripped through him. The back of his thighs clenched as he pushed his hip pressingly into her, nestling himself snugly into her as he released everything. 

Ropes and ropes of his seeds spurted into her in one hot burst, filling her rapidly as her tattering moan rode through her. 

His own hoarse one dragged through his throat as he snapped his hip curtly against her to every furious spurt of his load.

Accompanied by her fleeting whimpers and his own grunts, his slowing ruts sent one rough curt prod into her after another, till the very last drop of his semen was emptied into her womb.

A blissful stillness fell upon them the moment his movement inside her slowed and stopped.

Their intense stares held with their harsh pants. Until her eyes widened.

“...Oh no, Yu, you didn’t…” 

A soft gasp of horror escaped her. Despite the horror seeping in her widening eyes, she couldn't help trembling and panting with satisfaction at the warmth inside her. 

“Wha-What if I get...”

Her voice trailed off breathlessly with a gulp, his eyes followed her shaky hands as they moved to her lower abdomen, right above where they were still joined.

A knowing glint was in his gaze when he returned his gaze back to her. “When that happens, I will be here with you.”

“But I-”

“I’ll shoulder your duties for you. I’d rather you stay safe, even if it means getting you pregnant.”

Her breath hitched. 

To hear him say that word himself stirred a strange fluttering desire in her. It came out of nowhere but it filled her with wistful longing. 

Was it really...okay for people like them to enjoy something this mundane?

Was it okay to harbor hopes for something like this despite who she was? 

She wasn’t sure but the firm steel of promise in his eyes was enough for her.

That maybe...maybe it was okay.

[delusion-of-negation]

hope you get well soon <3

thank youuu 💙💙💜💚 tbh I might as well ask if anybody has any idea what it might be, since that symptom checker was so unhelpful (it can not be carbon monoxide for many reasons, like firstly I'd be dead by now, secondly I have that thing where you can't smell gas well, like loads of people have it, so they make things a bit like smoke alarms but for gas, and so I've got one)

a brief run-down of what's happened:

a couple days before any of this, I was laying in a weird way for alone time, and I slipped and it was only about an inch I moved but it twisted my neck funny and hurt a little, but then it was fine so I didn't think anything of it (still doubt it is related, but it's worth noting since years ago I had whiplash and that makes it easier to fuck up your neck again in the future iirc)

thursday I fell (this time sorting pets, and then got stabbed in a non-piercing way by the cage thing in ribs) and injured my side, I had a bit of trouble breathing and moving but doubt it was bad enough to break anything or whatever

saturday I fell again in the same way and so my side got worse as a result, but not agonising

sunday evening I saw something I have a bad phobia of, and had a panic attack, but not at all the worst panic attack I've ever had, like not in the top ten even, and I gradually calmed down

monday I started getting anxious and irritable, incredibly so, couldn't do anything but listen to angry music while curled up in a ball for most of the day, but there didn't seem to be a focus, like I wasn't anxious about anything specific

monday evening I started getting really dizzy, worsened substantially by moving, but not as bad as the time I had a really bad infection in my kidney or something that spread to my ear and for a week I needed to be escorted since I literally couldn't stand up from the vertigo

tuesday the dizziness continued and I became incredibly nauseous, with only one break long enough to eat a few jaffa cakes (images of any gross things don't usually make me nauseous, but atm I can not look at any), otherwise food is absolutely sickening to think about, but the anxiousness thankfully subsided into just sort of a background depression and malaise, that pain in my head was a very weird sickly numb sort of feeling all over, like a concussion or like a migraine but sound/light didn't affect it at all

tuesday evening I became really dissociated or confused, my memory was choppy and I kept getting my words mixed up, but honestly it felt better than the depression, not sure if that was the result of painkillers and anxiety meds, tbh I described it as feeling like a background npc in somebody else's life but in a good way, calmly, but the pain also eased temporarily overall, but was a much more intense "normal" pain in the back of my head and lesser across the top

since sunday night I think, as I said earlier, I've been having more vivid dreams than normal (I usually get vivid dreams anyway), in these I'll often feel really sick, and I just feel really odd

the dizziness is like I'm leaning off something I could fall from most of the time, sometimes so low I'll barely notice it, but when I move it can either spin wildly or go wobbly and disorienting

my prevailing theory is that it's all just my brain doing a psychosomatic clusterfuck because of the stress I've been under, with an anemia flare up in second, mild ear infection in third (that is an explanation of why I've been falling over so much prior to today, like if that's caused by this not visa versa), a migraine that just wants to be special and different to my normal ones as my fourth guess, fifth that I injured something the times I fell, and sixth I'm not totally ruling out a carbon monoxide theory because that's funny and also my gas meter has been playing up, so if anyone knows any way to rule things out it's chill to let me know (can't go to my gp, they're slimy cunts, and don't wanna go to A&E unless it gets so bad I'd be willing to risk covid for it)

[bloodxbat]

I AM SICK OF PEOPLE IN PIERCING GROUPS GOING OFF ON SOMEONE FOR NOT BUYING JEWELRY OR GETTING PIERCINGS THAT COST FUCKING £80+!!

lets’s debunk these dickheads together shall we?

1: I have 3 piercings, ears, nose, medusa NONE of which cost me over £30 INCLUDING jewelry and saline solution all either healed/healing (medusa) fine

2: JUST BECAUSE CERTAIN METAL/QUALITY IRRITATES YOUR PIERCINGS DOESNT MEAN IT WILL IRRITATE EVERYONES PIERCINGS

3: Who are you to tell someone that their piercing is going to get infected if A you are not a piercer B don’t know how or how often their cleaning their piercings C work at the piercing shop they got it done at or D what their allergies are to certain metals

I can tell anyone who is anxious right now not to listen to these idiots! Talk to your piercer, research the piercing, know how to clean it and just take care of your piercing. That’s it! It doesn’t matter how much you bankrupt yourself getting it done as long as its done properly and you clean it well youre absolutley fine.

”nO rEpUtAbLe PiErCeR pIeRcEs ThAt FoR uNdEr $80”

shut the fuck up, decent piercers do because they know that it is stupid to charge that much and that people dont NEED 40k gold jewelry

GOD PEOPLE ANNOY ME

[zuffer-weird-girl]

Hi may I request a Kai x reader where her family is the mafia in America and they have an arranged marriage and when Kai is in a fight she pushes him to protect him and fights for him telling him that she has to protect her husband at all cost no matter the consequences

*screams like a fangirl*

"Remind me again why you thought was a good idea to insult them, love?" You said behind to your husband in your front, crounched down and creating spikes with his quirk, coming towards his target while Chrono took care of the others along with Rikiya and Rappa.

"They're sick, they should know at least the true about their insignificant lifes." He growled in irritation at seing the guy dodged his attack.

"Still. I lost count of how many times your honesty put us on trouble." You snickered before shooting another subordinate coming at you guys direction.

"Do I have to remind you about your own stupidity on times like these?" He growled again sending a one side glare at you.

You merely shrugged with a smile before widening your eyes in terror that in one second that he was distracted, by you nonetheless, a man; stature similiar with Rappa; had conjured a knife and was inches close to your husband.

"KAI WATCH OUT!" you shouted, grabbing without second thoughts Chisaki's forearm and pushing him out of the way, so you vould take the damage instead.

The man ended up pircing the knife in your shoulder and lushing all the way up, you screamed in pain before falling to the ground with a curse as you holded your wound.

"(Y/N)!" You heard your husband shout before you turned your face away from the splash of blood... Chisaki just had ised his quirk on your attacker.

"I'm okay..." you muttered between teeth as you felt golden eyes glaring at you but still one gloved and other bare hand holded your shoulders while helping you up.

"Definitely. A major bleeding is nothing to worry about, right dearest?" He said sarcastically, words spilling like the venom of a snake fangs...

He was infuriated and you knew it... but he at least was safe... without a injury.

"That was a close one Overhaul. But all the targets are erradicated." Chrono commented while patting his clothing with one hand as the other put his gun back to place.

Chisaki didn't even seemed to care about Kurono's information as he still glared at both of your wound and your eyes, which by the way were pierced on the ground... never looking up at his face.

You winced when his bare hand came in contact with your shoulder, his quirk already being applied.

"Filfh..." he growled quietly before you let out a breath of relief when he ended, walking away from you and grabbing a handkerchief from his pocket to clean his hand.

You gulped the air in your throat as both Chrono and Mimic looked at you, silently wondering what happened before Chisaki's commanding voice told you all that it was done, so you could go back home.

"You fuck up?" Mimic asked and you only breathed out a heavy sigh.

"By her reaction... yes." Chrono comented, internally feeling pity towards you.

~

Chisaki haven't even spared a glance at you all the way back to the yakusa. Not a word... absolutely nothing.

When Kai was still talking was a signal that things weren't that bad but when he went in complete silent is a allert that he is truly holding himself back to not just overhaul the intere fucking base in rage.

The moment you stepped in the house your husband said, coldly, for you to follow him. Only with a signal of hand, and not even looking at your direction.

You followed him and entered you guys bedroom first as he oppened the door for you.

"You are simply the most out of brain creature that I ever laid my eyes on." You flinched at his monotonous but enraged tome of voice as you hesitantly looked up at his eyes...

Wrong move. His golden eyes shined with a mixfure of emotions... Rage, dissapointment, disbelief... worry.

"Have any idea what could have happened if I didn't have this stupid quirk? You've could get infected, die by the bleeding. Anything. And you still had to do that."

"Well I'm sorry if I spare you from the pain, Kai." You spitted back and he twitched one of his eyes.

"Just like I did with you stupid I would do this to myself. I lost count of how many times this happened."

"But I don't want to see my husband in pain! It doesn't matter if you can fix it later Kai! It still hurst when you use the overhaul and you know it!"

"Stop yelling." He growled, eyes darkening as he glared you down "We aren't raising our tones of voice because of a mistake of yours."

You laughed bitterly before bringing a hand to push your hair away from your face to glare at him back.

"So protecting the one I love is a mistake then?"

"I can protect my own self."

"Really? Because you were clearly going have a fucking stab on your back if I didn't had pushed you way mister 'perfect'!"

"I said to stop yelling." He growled darkly.

"No I won't! All my damn life I learned that the life of my husband is valuable so I won't let your stupid dumbass get hurt Chisaki!"

He pinned you to the wall one hand holding both of your wrists together as his jaw clenched in rage, his other hand trembling in his side.

"What makes you even think that you can answer me like that?"

"Maybe because your dumb skull will only finally understand if I scream in your ear that your life is valuable!"

"THAT DOESN'T MEAN YOU HAVE TO THROW YOUR FUCKING SELF IN THE FIRE FOR ME (Y/N)! WHAT DO YOU THINK WOULD HAPPEN WITH ME IF YOU WEREN'T IN HERE ANYMORE?! GODAMMIT THINK FOR ONCE!"

You flinched while your eyes went open wide at hos outburst... Chisaki was never a man to yell, so this showed you how truly angry and worried he was at the situation.

He took a shaky breath before he released your wrists, golden eyes staring at both of you guys feet...

You rubbed the skin that was pressured as you took a hesitant look at your husband, whose was still looking down yet caging you between him and the wall with his arms on either of your sides.

"Kai I-"

"I can't." He interrupted with a mutter before he touched foreheads together, eyes closed and surprisingly his arms wemt to wrap themselfs around you in the same instant.

"I can't lose the only light of my dark life, angel... I can't lose you." You squeaked quietly as his embrace only tightened.

"You always protect me, why can't I do the same thing?" You whispered, holding him back as he burried his face on the top of your head with a sigh.

"Because your view of protecting me is even giving your own life away... this is... stupid and ridiculous." Even with his mask, you shivered as you felt his covered lips move woth each word as his warm breath spreaded in your head, giving you pleasant chills.

"But-"

"Angel. I know you have the purest of the intentions." He interrupted you again "But if I lost you by any chance... I would be or totally miserable or worse than the Devil itself."

You blinked, wiping away one tear of yours with one hand, shortly after burring your face in the crook of his neck.

"And I won't use my quirk on you evertime you get injured... I would rather much prefer that you stay safe." He separated to look down at you, eyes sorrow as one of his hands tilted your chin up to look at him back "And unharmed."

You sighed before prefering to change your gaze to his white tie.

"But you also don't give much care when you get injured... or worse."

He sighed in annoyance before flipping your forehead, grinning at that cute yelp of yours.

"For your information. My life is not only dedicated to the yakusa anymore, is also for the only person that can make me feel... like this."

You snickered at his comment before he took you by surprise, lowering his mask down while his other hand grabbed on your chin, yo give you a direct kiss, moments after using his control on your face to part your lips and connect his tongue with yours.

When he separated you almost fell to the ground, such intensity he put on those that always made your knees weak and mind go to the clouds.

"A shower will be needed." He said while making his way to the bathroom and opening the door for you to pass first "We're sweaty and that's disgusting."

That's the man you fell for...

[border-spam]

Troy HC dump

These span all eras and are valid for the Troy I write , some are 18+ so read more at your discretion:

Hugely into any puzzle / collection echo games (think puzzle and dragons), and uses them to relax very often in private. Finds puzzle games really destress him and help him sleep. Has spent an insane amount of money in them.

Keeps his own personal coffers and the amount he spends wouldn’t even be noticeable against his almost infinite wealth , but he’d be intensely embarrassed if anyone found out how much God King Calypso spends on gatchas.

Hair is naturally very thick, his iconic hairstyle was originally born out of frustration after going for a bandit mohawk, realising how much work that was going to be every day, then swiping it all forwards and hoping for the best.

Has v little torso hair but does pluck the patchy little bits he grows for the aesthetic, bitch.

Incredibly hygienic for a Pandoran, but more so with his oral hygiene than anything else. Had to keep a rigorous cleansing routine for the first few months after his jaw mod and just kept it up from then on.

Understands a huge amount of different languages, but not fluently. Leda taught him the basics of a lot of language cores and he can understand and read a lot relatively well. Cant speak or write them though, and keeps this skill close to his chest.

He’s intensely clever and realised early how useful it was to understand what sponsors were saying to each other in “private” by using another language during meetings with the twins. He’s turned having his intelligence underestimated so often into a weapon he wields with great skill.

His hand writing is atrocious. He can read it fine, but not even Tyreen can half the time. Almost proud of having his own shitty shorthand code he can use for notes.

Can count the amount of times he’s worn underwear by choice on his one hand since adulthood. Didn’t have any on Nekrotafeyo, and fuck it. Freedoms comfortable and let’s you have very low slung pants.

Very low slung pants are very good at distracting possible competitors/business partners enough during interactions to either cause them to slip up, or underestimate his cunning again. Either works fine for him, he gets attention, and the upper hand. Win win.

Snores really bad from a combo of mods and compromised respiratory system. Modded tongue tends to slowly extend the deeper his sleep gets, and he’s woken up with it over his eyes before. Will completely deny he snores, only Tyreen has heard it and she’s clearly lying, right?

Did most of his own piercings and barely flinched. Full on SOBBED after he pierced his nips. Sat on his bathroom floor for an hour waiting for the pain to pass while strongly second guessing his life decisions.

Gets extremely emotionally invested in classical music / soundtracks and falls asleep listening to his fave playlists often. Has nicer dreams when he does than if he doesn’t, and also feels like it helps boost his creativity while working. Doesn’t know why.

A combo of keeping his neck covered under the collar, and the scarring on his throat, has left it hyper sensitive when uncovered. A caress will instantly have him snapping viciously or melting into a gasping mess of goosebumps and shivers depending on who’s hand it was.

Super comfortable with nudity, his self esteem issues are focused on his body’s layout and the self perceived damage/disfunction of it, nudity doesn’t come into play at all.

That is, as long as his bracer is on. What’s under the bracer is the one part of his body he would be terrified of showing to someone he valued in a vulnerable situation. Any COV worshipper stupid enough to think just because they can touch him naked means they could try and touch under the bracer is going to really miss their hand afterwards ( if they are still alive to miss it ).

Would love to be able to play a musical instrument well but he’s struggled with any he tried before as only his existing hand is dextrous enough for one. Would really appreciate and treasure someone with the patience and kindness to teach him, but knows that would mean dropping the God King persona, and can’t justify damaging their reputation just for something that would make him happy.

Gets recognised instantly regardless of how he dresses or looks, which he loathes. There is no way to hide his height or build, let alone the markings on his face. Really misses being able to just wander and explore like he could in the COV’s early days.

Really, really, really loves food, but his ill health means he can’t eat the way he’d like and often has to avoid foods he wished he could eat more. God King Calypso is known for being exceptionally choosy about the food he eats. In reality, Troy just can’t trust a lot of the overly rich food he’s served.

Massively enjoys cooking in his Sanctum when alone, and would treasure doing so for anyone he sees as a friend. Has, very rarely in the past, and loved seeing how surprised they were that he’s not useless at it.

Solely drinks alcohol to get drunk, can’t really taste beer very well and doesn’t enjoy most spirits. He’s a functional alcoholic but would deny he relies on it or other drugs (he absolutely does) and blows off concern from medics as it being something he chooses to do, not needs.

Wishes he could smoke Pandoran weed but wouldn’t risk the damage to his weak lungs, tends to make tea with what he grows in his ship, shares it with Tyreen a lot. She can’t touch plants, so he has no problem doing the green thumb work and sharing with her when she needs to relax.

Unless their dad had thought it to them or they saw it in an echo show, then the twins had no grasp of basic social do’s and don'ts when they reached Pandora.

Troy would have no problem sitting in a merger meeting picking his nose while Tyreen scratched her ass in front of board members. They learned a lot of their social skills the hard way, having been asked to please, please stop by priests and saints.

Has never won a burping competition against Tyreen in his life. Is genuinely irritated by this.

Can’t dance. Can strut and pose, has a great sense of rhythm, just cannot for the life of him do anything dance wise. Please don’t ask him to it will end in tears (his).

Savant with numbers, sees them as patterns like his dad did. Thought everyone could till he met people on Pandora. Gets aggressively frustrated with anyone who he needs to explain his process for reaching a mathematical conclusion to, because they never get it.

Complete idiot tier for animals. Likes them a lot, just doesn’t know what any of them are and no one is in a position to correct him without risking embarrassing the God King publicly and having their neck snapped.

Calls everything he sees a Skag. Rakks? Flying Skags. Bullymongs? Arm Skags. Skags? “Those bitchin lil’ mouth dudes.”

Really enjoys art and has a beautiful defined style with spray paint. Dumbs it down for propaganda, but his Sanctum is filled with canvases that are experimental colour and line pieces. Very much likes working with holy iconography but tends to only illustrate Tyreen this way in his own time..

Spends a lot of hours in the Mechanicum and knows a lot of the Tinks in higher leadership position by name. Likes to talk engineering with them and feels comfortable enough to drop a lot of the God King persona and actually enjoy the conversation.

A Troy who’s excited and interested in a discussion is all twinkling eyes and gentle, eager smile. He often has to remind himself to shift back into persona mid conversation, and it can be quite.. sad.. to see him go from so clearly happy, back to an icy, scathing asshole.

Incredible at lying but cannot bluff for shit. Play any card game with him and he has instant facial tells (squints and sticks his tongue slightly out the side of his mouth when looking at his cards). Doesn’t understand why he could never win against his dad or Tyreen, probably never will.

Would never wear his reading glasses publicly, thinks they completely destroy his overall aesthetic and lines of his face mods. Won’t accept his’s wrong about this from anyone, though he personally likes how much more like himself he looks when wearing them in private.

Tyreen was so sick of seeing his ass crack, she was the one who suggested the overly tight belt that became part of his outfit. All his pants that are the right length are far too wide in the waist for his narrow hips. He could just get fitted ones now, but the low slung waist line + belt combo is part of his look at this point.

Incredibly high pain tolerance for almost everything, says he barely felt the tattoos and genuinely means it. The constant pain from the bracer and damaged shoulder joint has let him numb to most other relatively low levels of pain.

Is an amazing kisser as long as what you enjoy is the threat of being consumed alive. Troy’s mouth is a self designed weapon, verbally and physically, and he’s never been in a position to learn to use it tenderly. Doesn’t let worshippers choose to kiss him when bedding them, and is aggressive with it if he chooses to kiss them.

Would love to learn how to be tender from someone who cared for him and he felt safe enough with to allow his persona to slip and be vulnerable with, but as the years go on and the God King becomes more in control, Troy has become resigned to the fact that it’s something he will never have.

Very self conscious about his hygiene and showers usually twice daily if he can. Everything on Pandora is covered in sweat and filth, and he can’t risk getting infections considering the amount of open ports along his body. Really enjoys scents and has a surprisingly large collection.

Gets highly irritated with public displays of affection. Intensely, soul crushingly envious.

This gets dangerous late God King era as he becomes more and more violent. People have learned to be extremely careful to not show affection to each other in viewing distance of him at all, or risk losing a limb. Or worse.

Sex drive only gets higher as time goes on. For the first few years he much preferred pleasuring himself rather than interacting with the squalid heaving masses of followers throwing their bodies at him, but by the time of the God King era in later COV years, he can’t stand touching himself anymore. He doesn’t want to touch his body, and the God King is more than happy to let others praise it nightly instead.

Sleeps with huge cushions he brushes off as being for comfort, but deep down he knows its because their weight and pressure helps him not feel so alone.

Squints a lot and is known for scowling, but it’s mostly due to terrible headaches, not eye sight issues or his mood. The dark eye makeup helps with the glare a little but he’s noticeably paler than his sister due to the bright sun causing them more often than not and him preferring to stay in the shade of indoors.

Has kept every single thing given to him out of kindness. Will keep sugar packets if someone brings him a coffee with one out of concern for him looking tired. If he feels it was done because they like him and not out of respect for his title, he will keep anything he’s been given.

Most of the people who gave him these tiny things he’s kept.. well.. they aren’t around anymore (no one he’s gotten to know well chooses to stay very long ).. but he still likes to look through them sometimes when he needs to be reminded he’s possible to like.

The collection looks like a little box of trash to anyone else, but bar his old jacket his father made for him out of one of his own that he still keeps hidden away, it’s probably his most treasured possession.

[smarchit]

Do No Harm

After a few weeks of the Child being sick, Mando heads to a doctor that was recommended to him. She's determined to make the baby well again, no matter the cost.

Also posted to my Ao3! <3

The Child had been sick for two weeks now. Two weeks of uneaten food being thrown across the living quarters of the Razor Crest, two weeks of cool baths to try and get his body temperature to drop... Two weeks of sleepless nights for both parent and child.

Two miserable kriffing weeks.

Mando hadn't been able to take a job since the Child had gotten sick, too busy and worried as he tried to care for his son. He was running short on credits, food, fuel, and nerves.

He was fucking exhausted. 

Right now, the Child was curled in Mando's lap, blessedly silent after having screamed himself to sleep an hour or so before. 

He needed to find a doctor - and fast. The Child felt lighter every day in his hands when he cradled him and begged him to eat anything that was placed before him.

The last time he had been to Nevarro when the Child had only been sick for a day or so, Karga had given him a few names on a handful of planets to look into that may be able to help them.

"You look a little worn down yourself, Mando," he had chuckled when Mando slumped into the booth. "I can still give you a space in the Twi'lek healing baths."

Thankful for the protection of his helmet, Mando rolled his eyes at Kargas suggestion. It was true though. His shoulders sagged with exhaustion, and the beskar felt like it weighed two kriffing tons. All he needed was for the Child to stop screaming long enough for them both to get a good night sleep.

The comm to his left beeped and drew him out of his twilight slumber. The Crest dropped out of hyperspace and Mando said a silent prayer to the fucking stars that the Child stayed asleep.

This was the only planet not loaded with remnants of the Empire within the next dozen star systems that was on Karga’s list. It was a low population, something Mando took into high consideration when he looked for someone to care for the Child.

The sun had just begun its descent over the edges of the trees when the Crest docked less than half a mile from the village. Normally, he would have scanned the entire area, landed at least five miles from the village, and walked on foot the rest of the way. 

Not today. He was too tired.

The village was just starting to settle in for the evening when Mando walked in. No one paid him much attention, aside from the usual stares. No one picked any fights or spat in his direction. No Imps guarding the gate either, just a man about Mando's age if he were ever to admit it, with a decades old blaster standing watch.

"I'm looking for a doctor," Mando said softly as he approached the man.

The sentinel glanced at the bundle of blankets nestled in the crook of Mando's elbow and jerked his head backwards down the main street. 

"Down there," he said gruffly. "The green stone building on the left, about five houses up." He eyed Mando from head to toe before he spared another glance at the Child. "Make sure and knock first."

Mando thanked the man and set off down the path. The villagers moved carts and animals out of the way as he walked down the dirt path. A small group of shaak lowed somewhere to his left in a pen, and the Child stirred briefly at the sound.

Appointment in session - Knock please! The sign on the front door stated in Basic in a neat hand. 

Mando stepped back to read the sign above the door. Varik Eshol & Family; Midwifery & Childcare.

"A midwife?" he said out loud. He couldn’t believe it. Is this Karga’s trusted doctor? Or did he just hand Mando a random list of names without bothering to see what they specialized in? 

As if on cue, the front door opened and a young woman with long blonde hair stepped out, her hand curled over her slightly swollen belly. Behind her stepped another young woman with hair like fire, curling around her face as the wind picked up.

"Everything looks great, Jari," the smiling woman said. "It's normal for some spotting to occur in your second trimester. Don't worry, okay? If you start cramping, or the bleeding continues, please come find me."

The pregnant woman smiled and thanked the young woman behind her before she stepped off the little porch. She glanced at the Mandalorian and tottered off to the side to avoid him.

Mando cleared his throat and shifted on his feet to try and get the midwife's attention.

She turned to him with a slightly surprised look on her face. 

"Um, how can I help you?" she asked as she wiped her hands on her dress. "It's after normal hours, and I don't usually--"

"I have a child," he said softly, almost apologetically. "He's sick. I'm not... I can't figure out what's wrong with him."

"Oh, please, bring him inside," the young woman said hurriedly. She stepped backward into her hut and held the door open for the Mandalorian. The woman glanced nervously down both sides of the path before she shut and locked the door behind them.

"You don't look like a Varik," he said in a clipped tone as he shuffled inside. 

"My father," she replied as she grabbed a scanner from a medkit. " He passed last spring."

"I'm sorry," he said. 

"Winter sickness," she murmured. She moved to a basin to scrub her hands clean. "It took half the village with it. There used to be five midwives in town. There's only two of us now."

Mando was quiet as he looked down at the child in his arms. His little cheeks were dusted with pink, lips pale with fever. 

"Can you help him?" he asked. "I... Don't have much money." Mando didn't want to meet her eyes. He couldn't bear to have her kick them out. Not when the next closest name on the list was a doctor on Tatooine. 

"Well," she said softly, scanner in hand, "Lucky for you I work for low fees and very often, pro bono."

"What's your name?" he asked, instinctively holding the Child to his chest as she approached.

"Wynnlow," she replied with a smile. "Just Wynn, to friends. May I see him?"

Hesitantly, Mando pulled the blanket away from the Child's face.

If Wynn was surprised, she did a good job of hiding it. She let out a tiny gasp and knelt down beside Mando's beskar covered thigh to examine the Child. He tried to ignore the heat radiating off of her.

"Look at you!" she hummed. "So cute! What's your name?"

"He doesn't have one," Mando muttered, too irritated from lack of sleep to put up with her small talk.

"Is he your--"

"He is a foundling. Until I find his family or he becomes of age, I'm his father."

Without reply, Wynn stood up and grabbed an out-of-date holopad off a rickety table. She knew that some tribes across the galaxy practiced child rearing in different ways. When she studied under her father, she learned quickly to not pass judgement, that no two people’s lives were the same.

"What's his normal temperature?" she asked as she thumbed through the pad. "He definitely has a fever, but I need to know what I'm working with."

Mando was silent. 

"It's okay to not know," Wynn said with a gentle smile. "It's alright. Come here, little one. Can I see you?"

Mando handed over the Child who had just started to wake up. He watched Wynn carefully as she took him to a small scale and set him down to weigh him. 

She cooed and doted on the Child as she examined him and explained what she was doing, though Mando got the feeling it was for his own benefit rather than the Child's.

"He's definitely got a little bug," she said as she shone a small light into his ears. "Poor guy has some ear infections too. I can get him started on some medicine right away, but would you mind if I kept him overnight to see how he feels tomorrow? I--"

"No!" Mando said, perhaps a bit too quickly. He pushed himself upright and reached for the Child. "Just the medicine."

Wynn looked a little afraid when the Mandalorian towered over her. She turned her body to protect herself from a strike, should it come.

"Y-yes," she murmured, her eyes cast downwards. She kept him in her sight as she moved towards her medicine cabinet.

Mando suddenly felt a little sorry. After all, the girl was doing this for nothing -- and after hours at that.

"At least give him the first dose here," she insisted as she pressed a bottle into his gloved hands. "Sometimes they get fussy. And his teeth look sharp enough to snap fingers."

Her skin felt cool even through the leather, and they lingered for just a moment too long against his palm.

"Thank you," he replied, his tone a little softer. He sat back down on the nearest couch and placed the Child on his thigh.

Wynn tried to busy herself by tidying up the table she had examined the Child on. She didn't want to disturb them. She had never met a Mandalorian before, but knew the stories from her father. 

They don't take kind to strangers. They'll never seek your help - or your comfort. Get all thoughts of that out of your head now, Wynnlow.

Wynn bit her lip at the memory as she tipped out the contents of the waste basket into the fireplace to burn the papers.

A piercing shriek tore through the little hut and Wynn nearly jumped out of her skin. The basket slipped from her fingers into the fire and she reached in without a thought. 

"Kriff!" she gasped as she yanked her hand back. The fishnet pattern of the basket had burned into her fingertips and palms and she pressed them against her dress to dull the pain as the scream came again. 

Wynn turned to see Mando in a vain attempt to administer medicine to the little green baby. Judging by how much the tiny thing was wailing, it wasn't going well.

She cautiously approached the pair, one hand out to them. Her heart was thudding in her chest and her fingertips stung from the fire.

"Let me try," she said softly. "I can usually get them to take it."

Mando looked up at her. After a silent moment with nothing but the Child’s sniffles filling the silence, he sighed heavily and handed her the medicine. He turned the Child around in his lap to face her and held him firmly in place. 

Wynn smiled and knelt down between Mando's thighs to get closer to the baby.

"Hi, little one," she cooed at him. "Hi there, sweet boy. Will you take your medicine for us? It'll make you feel all better."

The Child closed his mouth and put his little hands over his face. Shut tight.

Mando sighed in defeat and let his head fall against his breastplate. 

"Poor thing," Wynn murmured. She ran a cool hand over the baby's forehead and stood up, her hand pressed against Mando's knee to brace herself. "My offer still stands. I can keep him overnight."

"I'm not letting him out of my sight," Mando growled. He pulled the Child closer to him, despite the baby's protests.

"Hey," she said softly. "You can sleep here. It's a waiting room. He's my little patient. I've dealt with babies when they're still inside their mothers. I see them until they're school age. I've treated all sorts of species. It's okay. You can trust me."

Mando's shoulders sagged forward as he mulled over his options. He didn't want to let the Child go. But he heard the word of his alor, the armorer in the back of his head, You are as its father. 

What is best for him?

Mando sighed again and handed the now sobbing baby over to Wynn. His gloved fingers snagged the rough blanket as he pulled his hands away.

"I'll bring you some more blankets," Wynn hummed. She propped the Child on her hip and disappeared briefly into a side room. When she returned, she had an armful of blankets and pillows balanced on the dramatic curve of her other hip.

"You get some rest, yeah?" she murmured. "I'll take care of this little guy."

Mando eyed her warily. He put his trust into too many people and got hurt too many times to count for him to trust that easily. On reflex, his fingers curled around the base of his blaster.

Wynn took a slight step back, her eyes going wide at his movement.

"If he is injured, you will be the most miserable midwife in the galaxy," he warned. "Whatever you do to him, I will do to you ten times over."

Wynn glanced down at the Child, who blinked up at her and cooed softly. She then glanced down at Mando, eyes nervously darting between the hand on his blaster and the unreadable mask.

"I've never lost a patient," she promised after a moment of heavy silence. "Please get some rest. I'll put this one to bed and bring you some food and drink and leave you to eat."

Wynn carefully backed out of the room, her eyes locked with the formidable visor. The Child cooed and waved at his father before the door shut with a dull thunk.

By the time Wynn had put leftover broth, still warm, into a clay bowl, opened a new bottle of tea, and set the Child in a play pen, half an hour had passed without the Mandalorian checking on her. She assumed this meant she had his trust, at least for the next few hours.

Wynn didn’t mind. She understood firsthand how fiercely protective people could be over their children. Her mother had died protecting her when she was only a young child. She had no children of her own, but oh, did she want them some day. That was still far off, she figured. She was simply too busy to think about that right now.

When she brought a tray out to the Mandalorian, she wasn't sure if he was actually sleeping or still awake. 

"Here. It's bone broth and meat. There's some squash from my garden as well. I'll leave it there."

He didn't respond or move. 

Wynn bit her lip and hesitated for a second. Her hand twitched as she watched him, locked in something resembling a stalemate. After a moment, she wiped her hands on her dress and hissed at the pain on her finger. Don't break the string of trust. He already doesn't like you. Respect his boundaries - you’re doing a service, your job.

Under the protection of the visor, Mando watched as Wynn disappeared into the back where the Child slept. He leaned back to get comfortable, his arms spread out along the back of the couch.

The next thing he knew, bright sunlight was streaming through the shutter slats in the window behind him. The warmth seeped into his skin beneath his shirt and he stretched like a lothcat in the yellow light. 

Not thinking clearly yet, he glanced over at the couch cushions beside him to fetch the Child. His heart nearly stopped when he found the couch empty. 

Oh, right. 

Mando sighed and glanced around the small waiting room. The door was still shut to the living quarters, closed off from the rest of the hut. The front door latch hadn't been released yet either to allow patients for the day. 

He strained his ears to listen for noise in the kitchen and found nothing. It was still relatively early in the day, perhaps Wynnlow was still sound asleep? He supposed that since he didn’t hear the Child, it meant he was probably asleep as well. 

Mando stood with a soft groan as his knees and back protested his upright slumber. He shook the sleep from his limbs and quickly removed his helmet to eat the now cold food Wynn had brought him the night before. 

As he made his way to the fresher to clean up, something caused his ears to perk up. It was a soft, high sound, like bells in a garden. 

Singing. 

Mando cautiously made his way down the hall through the doors that opened into the living quarters. The singing was definitely coming from back here somewhere. 

In the back bedroom, the light was fully streaming in from the open window. The air was warm and a gentle breeze shifted the curtains and carried the soft coos of the Child.

Mando stepped into the bedroom where the singing was coming from. The gentle song didn't stop when he came in, but the owner of the voice did glance up at him with a sweet smile.

Wynn was perched on the wide window sill that overlooked the back garden. She held the Child in her lap as she sang to him, his little fingers curled around hers as she gently bounced him on her legs. She was clad only in a short shift dress, her pale pink robe discarded and slung over a nearby chair. Her hair was loose around her face as it had been the day before. The Child seemed enthralled by its vibrant shade - he watched it blow in the breeze and reached up to try and grab it.

Mando moved over to the pair slowly, not wanting to break peace before him. 

When the Child spotted him, he squealed with delight and reached up to his father. His ears were alert and his eyes bright, no trace of sickness immediately evident. The medicine Wynn had given him had begun to work.

Mando gave a short bark of laughter in relief and gently stroked one large ear.

Wynn finished her song and pressed a soft kiss to the top of the Child's wrinkly head. She held him to her chest as Mando played with his ears.

"His fever came down about six hours ago," she said quietly as she passed the Child up into Mando's arms. "And he's been awake for about four. Huh, haven't you, little one?"

"Thank you," he replied. He stepped back as Wynn slowly uncurled her legs from beneath her body. 

She groaned when her feet hit the floor and she instinctively reached out to steady herself on the nearest sturdy object. 

"Don't mention it," she murmured through a wide yawn as she lowered herself into a high backed chair. “He shook in the crib until I held him. My father believed in holding a sick child - something about the warmth comforts them, I think. We always slept with the sick babes in our room when he was alive.”

Mando watched her for a moment as she yawned again. Her head canted forward to fall against her chest. He looked down at the Child, who trilled and reached for Wynn.

"Did you sleep at all?" he asked.

Wynn lifted her head and rubbed the back of her neck. "No. He was worth it though. He's cute. I never got to ask how old he is."

"Fifty. His species ages very slowly."

Wynn raised her eyebrows in surprise. "That's interesting."

"Why?"

Wynn bit her lip and stood up. She knew something felt off since the Mandalorian showed up on her doorstep. It all made sense.

"There were some people that came through here about a week ago," she murmured.

Mando felt his breath catch in his throat.

"Fancy clothes, an entourage of Stormtroopers," she continued. “Looking for a baby. Said he was wanted alive.”

Mando's hand twitched against his blaster. He knew it.

"So you called them and told them we were here?" he snarled.

Wynn gave a startled yelp and collapsed back against the chair. She held her hands up and lowered her head. "No! I would never! Do no harm! That's rule one! You brought him to me as a patient. I would never betray that creed. Not for a million credits."

Mando growled beneath his helm at Wynn. He took in how she cowered from him and the fear filled look in her brown eyes. 

"Please," she said softly as she peered up at him through her hands. "Please, I would never. You have your creed, I have mine. Know this."

Mando sighed and let his hand fall from his blaster. He needed to get far away from this planet. "How much for the medicine?"

"Nothing," she replied. "No charge."

"I insist." Please was unspoken on his lips.. 

Wynn thought for a moment. "Five credits."

Mando tossed her a bag without counting them and turned to the door. 

"I told them to never bother me again," she called out as he disappeared into the waiting room. The Child gave a wail when he lost sight of Wynn."This planet doesn't take kind to the Empire. Never did..If someone like that has to specify they want a baby alive isn’t someone I’d turn a child over to.”

Mando paused at the front door and sighed. He thought about the young doctor, the only one who had wanted to keep the Child safe when he handed him over to the Imps. He stood by the front door for a moment and glanced around at her small hut. There was no protection, no place to hide.

"They will come back," Mando called out to her. He set a vibroblade on the counter by the front door. Additional protection, should she need it. "They'll know we were here."

Wynn held her breath as she listened for the distinct open-close of the front door. He was gone. After a moment, she let out a shaky breath. Without bothering to dress first, or change the sign out front, she emptied the credits into her lap and counted out almost ten times what was owed.

They will come back. Mando's words sent a violently cold shiver up her back despite the warmth from the sun outside her window. Outside, a shaak bellowed and a rooster screamed to signal the arrival of the day.

They will come back.

[purplesurveys]

825

All About the Letter E

Please List! (at least one)

Animals I Like: Elephants! And emus, mostly because of the Emu War I had watched a video about recently.

Foods I Like: Eggs. All kinds of them. I also like Eggs Benedict, empanadas, eggplants, eclairs, escargot, and I loooove eel. 

I Know Someone Who’s (jobs): Editor, editorial assistant, editor-in-chief - surprise surprise, I’m a journalism student haha.

I Wouldn’t Mind Visiting: Egypt and Ethiopia. I also want to go back to El Nido in Palawan.

Sometimes I Feel: Excited, enthusiastic, but mostly embarassed.

Music I Listen To: Ed Sheeran, Eraserheads, Ella Fitzgerald.

Movies I’ve Seen: Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, Eraserhead, Emperor’s New Groove, Evil Dead, The Exorcist, Ex Machina (the first ten minutes of it anyway), Eyes Wide Shut.

Names I Like: Emilia, Emma, Elliott, Ezra, Eden, Elizabeth.

And now, onto the random questions!

Do you believe in equality? Of course. Reeeally big on it too.

Early to bed or early to rise? Mmm, neither honestly. I sleep way too late to the point of it being unhealthy, which means I don’t get up particularly early either.

Are you early or late for appointments? I get to the venue early, then show up exactly on time.

Have you ever had an ear infection? I have not. I imagine that would majorly suck though.

Do you go see an eye doctor? This implies that I do it regularly, so no. I did have to visit one when I still could because my left eye would feel like there was something stuck inside of it and it hurt to blink. The eye drops prescribed to me didn’t really help and would only provide short-term relief, but I never got to go back and have my eye re-checked cause we were under lockdown by then. Occasionally I’d still get spells of being irritated.

How many earrings do you wear? None. I ruined my left ear piercing years ago so I’ve had to stick with clip-ons, but I haven’t worn any in a while because I’ve lost most of them, because I’m terrible at being organized with such tiny things lol.

Do you care about the environment? How do you help the Earth? Yes, I reduce and recycle whenever I can; I’m very particular about segregating my trash; I save on paper by always folding a page in half if I have to fill it up; and as icky as it is I always pick up trash at public places when I see it – I’ve since had Gabie pick up the habit too. How often do you exercise? Do you go to a gym or do it on your own? The only exercise I get is going on short strolls with Kimi. I do it for leisure, not for workout-y purposes. I did have a rigorous PE class last sem where we’d have to do like 50 pushups, 30 pullups, five-minute planks, lifting 80-lb barbells, etc every meeting and it was honestly a lot of fun; but I was never able to maintain the exercises we did once the class ended.

What are your favorite things to eat? Unhealthy things like cheeseburgers and corndogs, ~fancier desserts~ like macarons and eclairs, savory food like ramen and curry, and seafood. My tastes are all over the place, lmao.

Do you know anyone who is pure evil? I know shitty people, but ‘pure evil’ is pushing it.

Do you get along with everyone? Not always because I can be quite vocal and that doesn’t sit well with some people; and it’s usually easy to tell if I don’t like someone even if I act civil. I always try my best to be friendly though.

Do you have a certain routine that you go through every day? Yes. I need my routines otherwise my anxiety will absolutely blow up. Spontaneity is fine with me but not when it comes to this.

Have you ever felt like you’ve lost everything? Yup.

Is there anywhere you’d like to explore? The rest of the world. For the most part, there’s no place I’d say no to going.

Elevators or escalators? Escalators because at least it’s in an open area, and if it breaks down I can just go up or down as if it were stairs.

What do you do in the evening? Dinner, play with Kimi and now Cooper, and I usually take my surveys by evening. Sometimes I’ll make a cup of coffee too.

Have you ever been evaluated for anything before? Yes, both as part of a group and just me, individually.

What’s the worst you’ve ever done on an exam? I got the lowest possible grade that my old school offered once or twice. In college, I once got something like a 40/100 in an economics class HAHAHAH

Are you easily exhausted? No, as long as the weather cooperates. If it were hot and humid I’d be a lot more sluggish.

Do you like visiting exhibits? Depends on the subject. < Same. I wouldn’t go to an exhibit that would get too technical on engineering, for one.

Have you ever felt exiled? I’ve felt that in my home many times.

Have you ever felt like everybody was talking about you? Yeah, but I don’t feel like opening up that can of worms right now since it’s a complicated story lol.

Have you ever entered through an exit sign or exited through an enter sign? I’m sure I have.

How have humans evolved over time? In a lot of ways. We’ve lost some tiny body parts, changed our mindsets on stuff like slavery, changed up our fashion sense, removed and added words from/onto our vocabulary, developed our cuisines, etc. I highly recommend Bill Wurtz’s ‘history of the entire world, i guess’ video haha.

Would you ever consider eloping? No. Not to sound ignorant, but I genuinely mostly don’t know what that entails since it’s not really a part of our culture. One thing’s for sure though, I wanna get married with a bunch of people watching.

If you could erase one mistake from your past, what would it be? I wouldn’t call it a mistake because it was who I am at the time...but I hate the fact that my college experience is forever stained with how much I sulked during my freshman year.

When’s the last time you’ve used email? How about sending something through the mail in an actual envelope? For email, it was like a week ago when I had to reply to a company emailing our org to endorse their internship opportunities. I don’t think I ever sent anything to anyone through mail...? I’ve written handwritten letters, but I personally gave them to the person it was meant for.

Do you dye eggs at Easter time? Nah we only did that once.

Is the glass half empty or half full? Depends on the situation, for me.

Have you ever had elbow macaroni before? Sure! My favorite recipe is Mama Lou’s truffle mac and cheese. Soooooo savory and so, so unfairly good.

Have you ever fractured or dislocated your elbow? Never. That sounds awful. I’ve seen arm wrestling matches go wrong and those were bad enough. Do you know how long an era or an eon is? An era is dependent on events, isn’t it? Like the hippie era, the grunge era, etc. My understanding is that they are socially defined and therefore don’t have a set time period. I believe an eon is an very long but unspecified amount of time. I’m trying to remember this without Googling, so I could be wrong, but those are my interpretations of the words. < There ya go. It’s a little too late in the night for me to be up for defining either in my own words haha.

Do you chew the Extra brand of gum? I don’t think so. I don’t think we have that here.

When was the last time someone showed empathy towards you? Few weeks ago when I was horribly sick and dad willingly took care of me, gave me sponge baths, and listened to every single one of my requests.

Did you have an Elf on the Shelf growing up? No. I’m not sure I know what that is.

Is your bedtime closer to eight or eleven? Eight...AM. :(((

Would you go around the world in eighty days? Nah I’d want to stop in too many places. You can’t see a country in a day. < True. While I was very much in love with my cruise vacation, it also meant that I just had an afternoon to explore as much as I can of South Korea and Japan. And I wish I had more time in both places.

Did you turn eighteen in high school, or afterwards? Shortly afterwards. My graduation was in March, I turned 18 by April.

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