#this went dark and dramatic a lot faster than i anticipated

[firequeenofficial]

^OP's tags cause I didn't wanna shove them all in my tags

This is so true though. Imagine you've been dealing with this horrible awful thing for so long that it's just part of the routine. You deal with it cause there's no other option. You learn how to live (and die) with it, and how to distance yourself from your friends so you hurt them less. You try to be better, to rid yourself of it, because of course you do. It sucks, it ruins everything, it hurts the people around you, of course you want it gone. But in the interim, you live (and die) with it.

And then it's gone. At first, you're overjoyed. You're free! It's over! This horrible awful thing that's been plaguing you for far too many lifetimes is gone!

But then the truth sinks in. Cause it's not gone, it's just been transferred. A curse cannot be created or destroyed, only transferred from one vessel to another. And the new vessel it's chosen is your sister.

But she doesn't seem bothered, she doesn't seem even the slightest bit worried. She's just her usual happy self, full of joie de vivre, all smiles and laughter and hugs and love. So you try not to let it bother you, either.

After all, you're free. Free to take risks, to live your life, to explore and experiment and experience everything the world has to offer. Life is yours for the taking, and you plan to take it.

But you look at your sister, your wonderful, amazing sister, and you find you can't do it. You can't leave her to suffer this fate. She doesn't know what she's doing. She doesn't know how it feels, what it does to you, what it does to those you love. She doesn't know how to live (and die) with it. You do.

So you take risks. You live your life. You explore and experiment and experience all this world has to offer. But don't do it just because you can. You don't do it just because you're free. You do it to save her. You do it so she can be free. Because if you take enough risks, you can take back this horrible awful thing that threatens to take your sister from you. Because you know how to live (and die) with it, and she doesn't, and you don't want her to deal with that ache, that constant terror that every day might be your last.

To all the world, you're simply enjoying your freedom, but you know the truth. You'll take back that cage, no matter what it takes. You'll do anything to take her place, to reclaim that awful honour.

And you're determined to succeed.

hey guys imagine youve lived so long with a terrible curse that might have been transferred to someone you love a lot. imagine it. imagine.

[supercorpkid]

The price of magic.

Supercorp, Kara Danvers x Daughter!Reader, Lena Luthor x Daughter!Reader

Word Count: 2210.

Turns out the price of magic was higher than you had anticipated. You’ve been away for more than a year, but for your family it was nothing but a week. Sure they’ve missed you and they were out there looking for you with no clue of where you could have gone. But for you?

A year in Storybrooke was experiencing your life as you’ve always imagined. Being yourself in its totality. No Luthor name hanging over your head, no hiding yourself behind glasses or a red and blue superhero suit. It was being both Kryptonian and human at the same time, with no fear of judgment or dislike.

Storybrooke was like going on a super long vacation; so long it made you forget all of your problems. But that doesn’t mean that your problems went away. They came back as soon as you stepped foot in National City.

The price of magic was feeling guilty for being happier somewhere else. It was walking into your bedroom and feeling at home but also somehow not at all. It was walking around the craziness of National City and feeling suffocated like you’re in a crowded room full of empty faces. It was missing the words ‘honey’ and ‘sweetheart’ when people were referring to you. It was having a crazy number of options of take-out food but wanting nothing except the food in Granny’s diner.

And you weren’t the only one to pay the price. You can feel how high it was for Kara and Lena too.

“Mom?” You sit up on the bed, looking at Lena standing in your bedroom watching you sleep. “What are you doing creeping over my bed at-” You look at your alarm clock. “3 in the morning?”

“I had to be sure you were still here.” Lena says, sounding small and scared.

“Mom, I’m not going to disappear from my bedroom in the middle of the night.” You say, trying to reassure her, but it backfires you.

“You can’t blame me for thinking that, because you did.” She holds your arm, and you hear the cry in her cracked voice.

“Would you feel better if you stayed here with me?” You make space for her. Lena hum in agreement, lying next to you. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m even more.” She kisses the back of your hand. “A whole year without us. You were probably so scared we weren’t looking for you.”

“I knew you were.”

“You got so tall, and we weren’t even there to see it!” Lena complains and you give her a sad little smile, even though she can’t see your face at all in the darkness of your bedroom.

“Well, I chose a weird age to have a growth spurt .” You joke, but you don’t get a laugh in return. You sort of always knew when you would get taller. It was the same with Kara. You were always very anxious to turn 17, because that was the age she actually grew more. But the weird thing is that you’re not really 17 now. Like Kara is not really 70.

“Come here.” Lena hugs you and you settle back. You’re almost drifting off to sleep when she whispers. “Don’t ever leave again.”

You can’t promise that you won’t. Stranger things have happened in your life, you don’t really feel like you have control over that anymore. And weird as it may seem, you also don’t want to have control over that. Because if you had, if you could have chosen, you probably wouldn’t have met some of the people that you love so much now.

“Hey!” You walk in the kitchen, to both Kara and Lena still having breakfast despite how late already is. “What are you two doing?”

“Having breakfast.” Kara explains, like it isn’t obvious.

You look at the clock. “It’s nine.” You raise an eyebrow at them. “And it’s Monday.”

“Yes.” Lena agrees.

“On Mondays you go to work, and Kara does her usual Kara’ stuff.”

“You were gone for a week. Even if L Corp burned down in flames I wouldn’t leave your side today.” Lena answers you, and you smile softly. You look at Kara next.

“Oh, well, if L Corp was burning up in flames I probably would have to go to put out the fire.” She says but adds in a hurry. “But I would be here five seconds later!”

“Ok.” You chuckle. “I thought I would go see Jamie and Maya on their lunch break, but if you two want me to stay-”

“No! Baby, no. Go see your cousin and your girlfriend. They were missing you too.” Lena hands you your phone. “There’s a lot of texts from them.”

“Oh, a phone! God I haven’t had one in a while.” You smile scrolling through your messages, ignoring your moms questioning looks.

“So, maybe you could tell us how was your life there.” Kara asks, but you’re too distracted with your phone to notice. You haven’t used one in a while, not because there weren’t phones in Storybrooke, but because you didn’t need them. It was a super small city, you could find anyone easily, and because Emma and Charming were sheriffs, you all used radio transmitters to talk. “Hey? Little one, helloooo.”

“Sorry momma.” You put your phone down. “What did you say?”

“We want to know about your life there. I mean, for us it wasn’t that long, but for you it was a whole year. You probably did lots of things.” Kara says and you agree with your head.

“Yeah, I guess.” You shrug. “I used to help mom Emma out with the saving, and oh, mom Regina helped me with my panic attacks. And I’m a lot better at controlling them! Henry and I used to watch this awesome TV show that I probably won’t ever know how it ends now. And grandma taught me archery.”

“Oh, that sounds-” Lena thinks about it for a second. “Fun.”

“Yeah. It was so great. And every night all of us would get together at Granny’s diner and talk about our days, and sometimes I would go hang out with Belle in the library, so I read all the books there. And if I had stayed a little bit longer and turned 18 there, then grandpa would’ve taught me how to use a gun.”

“A little bit? It would’ve been a whole other year!”

“For me, I guess.” You shrug again. “Just another week for you. And I would’ve been cursed anyway, so it wouldn’t feel so bad.”

“Wait. Wait. Wait.” Kara stops you, looking confused. “You wanted to stay?”

“No!” You think about it for a second. “Not stay. No. Just-you know-If I had perhaps stayed longer then yeah, it would’ve been fun to learn that.”

“You can learn how to use a gun here!” Kara says, and Lena furrows her brows.

“No, she can’t.” She looks at you. “No, you can’t. Maybe when you’re older.”

“Right. Moms wouldn’t let me touch a gun either.”

“We are your moms.” It’s out of Kara’s mouth like she hadn’t given much thought to it. But you know she has, because she looks stung. You’ve noticed how she flinched every time you referred to Regina and Emma as moms, but it’s out of your mouth before you can stop yourself to think about it. For a year that’s what you’ve been saying every day. It’s hard to call them just anything else. Almost disrespectful even. But you don’t want to make Kara and Lena upset, so you have to watch out for that.

You try to say something after that. But it’s like your mind keeps erasing itself. ‘Ok, fine, sorry, sure you are momma!’ are all things that almost make it out of your mouth. Instead, you settle for, “Can I have some M&M pancakes?”

“Sure, babygirl.” Lena gets up and gets behind the counter. You go back to your phone, too embarrassed to look at Kara again. She doesn’t say anything about it either.

You talk about other things. They tell you how crazy it was to find you, and what they did all week while you were gone. Apparently it was mostly crying and blaming themselves for your disappearance.

“Hey, where are you going?”

“To school. To see Jamie and Maya.”

“Where are your glasses?” Kara asks and you touch your face to realize that you haven’t been wearing them at all.

“Ugh.” You grunt and mumble right after. “I hate those stupid glasses. Can’t believe I have to wear them again.”

You run to your bedroom and find an old pair tossed around. Stupid disguise. Stupid glasses. Stupid secret identity.

“Ok. Can I go now?” You ask when you make it back to the living room.

Lena lets out a forced smile out of her lips, and Kara gives you the most awkward thumbs up in history. Well, there’s a lot to unpack there. So maybe leave it for later.

“Hey!”

“No way in hell!” It’s Jamie’s first response when she sees you in front of your old school. “You grew taller in a week?”

“Something like that.” You smile finally looking down on her. Rao, it feels so good to finally be taller than Jamie. You’ve been hearing about it for years! “Hey, babe.”

“Holy fuck, look at you!” Maya says with the biggest smile on her face. “I don’t see you for a week and you show up here looking like a superhero!”

“Well…” You give her a little side flirty smile. “Is that a good thing?”

“You look great, babe.” Maya’s arms go around your neck and she tiptoes to kiss your mouth. You hold her by the waist, making it easier for her to kiss you.

“God, I’ve missed kissing you.” You let out after you part your lips.

“It’s been a week, stop being so melodramatic.” Jamie rolls her eyes, and you smile, letting go of Maya to hug her too.

“I’ve missed you too, dipshit.”

“Oh.” Jamie lets out a surprised sound. “I guess you’re not so dramatic then.”

You want to tell them, right there, about how it was not just a week. About your different life in the past year. But the girls from your school who used to bully you pass right next to you, and your heart beats faster anticipating the teasing.

But they don’t say a thing. In fact, what they say after they pass you, and you catch using your super hearing, is that you must be a new student. You smile, relieved. Getting taller and cutting your hair. You wish you had known it would make your life a lot easier.

“Ice-cream?” You smile at them and get positive responses at that. Two hours with them and it feels like you’ve never left. Feels good to be with them. It makes you remember that even though your life in National City is not always easy, it’s still pretty great. And that you shouldn’t take that for granted.

You and Jamie walk Maya home, and you’re not even scared of her parents' reaction anymore. It’s not like they’ll recognize you, anyway. And later, you fly Jamie back to her house. You say a quick hello to Alex and Kelly, then fly back home.

“Hey.” You throw yourself on the couch between your moms, with a smile on your face. You look at the box of donuts in front of them, just sitting there waiting for you to arrive and your smile grows wider. “Sorry I was gone for a while. But can I make it up to you both with some hugs and forehead kisses?”

“Oh! Me first!” Kara asks and you smile, throwing your arms around her, and resting your chin on her shoulders.

“You’re my mommy. No one will ever take that away from you.” You whisper in her ear, and feel Kara’s body fully relax in your embrace, while she lets out a relieved sigh.

“I love you more than words can explain it, kid.” You smile and let her go a little, just to look into her eyes.

“I know the words.” You rest your forehead against hers and smile. “You’re my heart.”

“You’re my heart, little one.”

“Can I get a sweet moment like this too?” Lena asks and you chuckle, pulling her close for a tight hug.

“You also don’t have to worry about anyone taking your place.” You say softly in her ear. “You carried me inside of you for nine months, and I’ll carry you inside of me for the rest of my life.”

“Oh God.” Lena says, choking up and wetting the back of your t-shirt with her tears. “I swear this is the loveliest thing someone has ever told me.”

“It’s true.” You smile and kiss her forehead right after. “I love you mom.”

“Oh, I love you, babygirl.”

“And we’re stronger together.” You say, and feel their arms go around you at the same time, in a family hug.

Sure you will miss being called ‘honey’ and ‘sweetheart’, but nothing beats being called ‘little one’ and ‘babygirl’. And nothing ever will. National City may not make you feel as good as Storybrooke did, but the people here surely make up for that.

[high-supernatural]

Rituals Take 2

Kai Parker x Female Reader

Request: Can you do the Rituals story but like a part 2 but the roles are reversed.

Word Count: 2517

Warnings: Kn!fe play (sorta, not really), smut, lots of smut, dom!kai, readers first time.

After the merge, Kai was having something of an existential crisis. He started feeling emotions and was thrown into a crisis of “who am I.” His whole identity was merged with the identity of his polar opposite. He was confused and desperate to find out who he really was.

Six months ago, a girl rescued him from the prison world. Since she was young, she was able to travel to other worlds in her dreams, that’s how she met Kai for the first time. When she grew older, she was able to physically travel there, and she got him out. She stayed with him through the merge, through getting magically sick, and now through what seems like a never-ending existential crisis. They were close, very close. It was almost as if they had known each other their whole lives. They knew no boundaries with each other, and constantly tested how far they would let each other go with their physical boundaries. Now things were different. He was withdrawn, stand offish, and seemed to be shutting himself out from the world.

They spent over a month with their eyes endlessly glued to occult books to find anything about merging identities but came up even more lost the more they read. Each time they came up with nothing, Kai shut down more. Over time, she started shutting down too because she didn’t know how else to help. They ignored each other and really only spoke when they were getting food, but even then, it was soft mumbles.

They sat in their hotel room like this every day until Kai found something in one of the books they had.

“I think I found something,” Kai interrupted the deafening silence in the room without taking his eyes off the book.

“What? Another theory?” She mumbled back.

“Not really a theory…” Kai trailed, “more of a method. It’s like an astral projection,” he looked up at her just to see that her eyes were still glued to the book she had.

Kai sighed dramatically, “it says it’s a ritual, all it calls for is basic things we can get at the gas station,” he kept looking at her ignoring him.

“Hm,” was all she responded with as she flipped a page, “it would probably just turn out like every other ritual we’ve tried, I wouldn’t bother,” she said bluntly.

“I don’t think so,” Kai said as if he was his normal self again, “it’s a ritual to see into the soul, you can’t get to know yourself any deeper than that.”

She closed her book and sat back in her chair in a sarcastic way, “fine, what does it call for?”

“Oh, you know, your basic magic things…” he trailed again as if to add an element of anticipation, “black candles, weird sigil, blood…” he paused again.

“And?” she asked, pretending to be annoyed with his dramatics.

“And sex,” he smiled innocently.

Her eyebrows raised for a split second as she leaned forward in her chair before standing, “oh cool, now you just have to trick somebody into having freaky ritualistic sex with you,” she said before walking behind Kai to the small kitchen they had in their hotel room.

“Would I have to trick you?” he said with his back towards her.

She paused what she was doing in the kitchen but didn’t respond. They let a few seconds of awkward pause pass them before Kai snuck up behind her, standing only centimeters from connection, and pushed her hair to the other side of her neck so he could see her face.

“Would I have to trick you?” he asked again with his hand under her chin, knowing she’d move her face away from him if he didn’t.

“Uh… no, I guess not,” she spoke with reddening cheeks.

“O.m.g… are you nervous?” Kai teased and poked her side. She never got nervous or flustered in front of him, she avoided it like hell.

“No,” she turned around to face him with her hands in her hoodie pockets, “just, why me? What if it doesn’t work?”

Kai circled his fingers around the strings on her hoodie, still standing suffocatingly close to her, “you’re a witch, you know the game, you’re probably the only person I know who won’t freak out and run when I ask if we can mix our blood and disconnect our souls from our bodies in a freaky sex romp…” he moved his eyes up her body until they met her eyes, “plus it helps that you’re hot.”

She looked down so Kai wouldn’t see her blush, but he objected by lifting her chin back up, “so, are you in?” Kai asked.

“I will platonically have a ‘freaky sex romp’ with you if there’s a chance it will snap you out of your identity crisis,” she smirked.

She stayed at the hotel to set up what she could while Kai left to get more things for the ritual. When he got back, she had already drawn the sigil on the floor and set most things up, the only thing left was the candles that Kai set up right when he got there.

She watched him lay the candles in a circle on the ground before he grabbed her hand for them to both be standing in the circle.

She starred at his serious facial expressions as he drew blood from his hand, “are you sure you want to do this?” she asked, more for herself than for him.

“I need to know who I am,” Kai responded.

“Well, what if it doesn’t work?”

Kai rolled his eyes and grabbed her hand, bringing his knife to it but stopping after he looked at her, “do you not want to do this?” he asked in an impatient tone.

“I just don’t want you to regret anything.”

He rolled his eyes and held onto her wrist, bringing the knife underneath her chin in a playful manner, “are you saying that for me or for you?”

He raised an eyebrow as she kept looking at him silently.

“Both, I guess—” she started before Kai cut her off to ask, “are you nervous?” he paused with a pondering look, “you’ve never done this before,” he chuckled through his nose, “have you?”

She shook her head ‘no’ so slightly it was almost unnoticeable.

He looked down at her hand as he brought the knife back there without drawing blood yet, “well, I’ll tell you what,” he looked back at her face, “we can either do this first and I’ll give you a real, extravagant, spectacular first time ever later, or the other way around,” he studied her expressions and bit his lip, “it’s up to you.”

“Well, we’re already here, so I guess the first option works,” she teased.

He brought her into a kiss right as he drew blood from her hand and interlocked their fingers, dropping the knife on the ground and moving his other arm up the back of her hoodie to rest around her waist, kissing her softly.

Kai unlocked their hands and pulled her body closer to him by the front waist of her shorts, “did I mention we have to be one-hundred-percent naked for this,” he teased, brushing his lips against hers before going back for a more passionate kiss and unbuttoned her shorts.

He pulled her shorts just enough for them to fall on their own. She tightened her legs from nervousness as Kai snaked one arm around her, cupping her ass to pull her even closer to him. Their bodies pressed together as his lips moved to her neck and his other hand trailed softer than a feather to rub the back of his knuckles down the front of her lace covered core resulting in her closing her legs tighter trying to ignore how weak her knees felt.

He sneaked his hands in between her tightened legs to cup her core and gently rub his thumb over her soft spot, “relax,” he whispered and pecked her lips once more before moving her to lay on the floor.

She propped herself up with her elbows and kept both ankles on either side of Kai’s legs with her knees pressed together as she watched him take his shirt off.

Kai whispered “incendia,” and the candles ignited as he spread her knees apart and ushered her to lay on her back with his lips attached to her neck, moving down her chest before lifting her hoodie up to expose her bare breasts.

He cupped one of her breasts as his lips traveled down the middle of them, looking up at her, he whispered, “you okay?”

She nodded and moved a hand to his hair, the other to where his hand rested on her hip.

His lips traveled further down until they reached her still clothed core and pulled himself up onto his knees with her hand in his, pulling her up to rest her knees underneath her.

Looking up at him, he guided her hand to feel the hardness in his pants before she removed his belt and pulled them down to expose his length, taking it in her hand as he lifted her hoodie over her head and slipped his hand under her panties.

Kai ran two fingers between her gates and softly pushed her onto her back again without removing his hand. He knelt between her legs, keeping them open by holding underneath one of her knees and slipped one finger inside.

She breathed in and swiftly moved a hand over his, the other to cover her mouth.

“It’s okay,” he whispered before inserting another finger and began pumping slowly as his thumb rubbed light circles on her clit. He leaned down to take one of her breasts into his mouth before using his free hand to hold the wrist she had placed over his hand onto her stomach before pumping faster.

He listened to the soft moans and whines she tried to muffle and couldn’t help but to tell her how perfect she was.

When she started shifting her hips into his fingers, he removed his hand and sat back on his knees, pushing her legs closed to grab both sides of her underwear and slowly pulled them off, spreading her legs for him again and rubbed his thumb down her folds once more.

He aligned himself with her entrance, pushing her knees up to her chest, “ready?” Kai whispered. She nodded and placed a hand on his stomach to control his pace. He slowly entered her with a look of pleasure and vulnerability on his face as he went deeper and began to move slowly.

As Kai picked up his pace both of their visions went dark, and they woke up in a dark world with a blue hue surrounding a forest full of leafless trees.

“Where are we?” she asked, but when she looked over at Kai, he wasn’t there. She looked around until she saw a figure in the distance – a tall figure about eight feet in height with gigantic elk shaped horns and what looked like a long robe covering its body. She didn’t even register the image of this figure in her mind before she called its name, “Kai,” she squinted, “how’d you get over there?” It was as if she knew who the figure was even though it didn’t look like the Kai she knew as a human.

The figure transported itself to stand directly in front of her, revealing its dark aura and red eyes, “this is what I am,” it spoke with a distorted voice before placing its hands on either side of her head.

She woke up back in the hotel room the second they both reached their orgasms, both a sweaty, moaning mess as Kai collapsed his face into the crook of her neck riding them both out.

“What the hell was that” she breathed, placing her hands on his shoulders to push him off her so she could stand up and quickly put her hoodie back over the hickey ridden chest Kai gave her as they were both blacked out.

Kai sat on his knees, “I know who I am,” he placed a hand between her thighs to pull them closer to his face harshly. He nibbled at the bottom of her stomach and breathed, “I finally remember who I really am.”

She attempted to push his head from moving further down and tightened her legs as Kai tightened his grip on her thigh, “Kai, you have to tell me what you saw,” she tried explaining.

He licked a stripe up her core, resulting in her legs partially buckling from the unexpected sensation, “I will,” he moved her body to the side to push her onto the bed. “But I promised you a real first time afterwards, remember?” he knelt before the bed he laid her on and moved his face between her legs.

“Kai, it can wait—” she was cut off by an unconscious gasp of air as his lips sucked on her clit roughly.

She moved a hand to grab at his hair and placed the other around the arm he rested on her stomach, arching her back and moving her hips uncontrollably at the pleasure.

Kai sucked harder and flicked his tongue around in fast, rough motions. It was as though his old self was finally back. “Kai—really—it can—” he cut her off by inserting two fingers into her, pumping as soon as he entered her causing her to moan loudly and grip his arm tighter.

She had never felt this many sensations before. The pleasure he was sending her was the loudest deafening feeling she had ever felt. She couldn’t resist giving into it as her second orgasm washed over her, leaving fingernail marks in Kai’s arm and filling the room with moans.

He snaked both arms underneath each side of her legs and held her wrists with them, pushing her through a third orgasm before he pulled himself up to her face with her arms being pushed above her head, “I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of that,” he whispered before laying his lips on hers, letting her taste herself, “don’t you taste so good?”

“Glad you’re back, Kai… Can you tell me what you saw now?”

Kai pulled her legs so that her core was fully exposed to him at the edge of the bed and pushed his length into her again slowly.

“It wasn’t really what I saw…” he started as she watched in awe that he was really having a casual conversation as he was about to fuck her again, “it was just what I felt,” he thrusted slowly. Her eyelids grew heavier as she forced them to stay open enough to concentrate on what he was saying.

“I didn’t see anything except the forest, and it was like I downloaded files about who I am again,” he breathed a silent moan and leaned into the crook of her neck again, kissing it softly.

“So, thank you for helping me,” he whispered.

​​​

[brawltogethernow]

So, I don't think I've ever asked you this... what IS the whole point of the Spider-Sense? It really seems like something that only exists for writers to ignore or work around when they want to inject Legit Tension into a story.

I’ve thought about this power so much, but never with an eye to defend its right to exist, so I needed to think about this. The results could be more concise.

Ironically, given the question, I have to say its main purpose is to ramp up tension. But it’s also a highly variable multitool that a skilled creative team can use for...pretty much anything. It does everything the writer wants it to, while for its wielder always falls just short of doing enough.

I went looking through my photos for a really generic, classic-looking example to use as an image to head this topic, but then I ran into the time Peter absolutely did not reimburse this man for his stolen McDonald’s, so have that instead.

A Scare Chord, But You Can Draw It

That one post that says the spider-sense is just super-anxiety isn’t, like, wrong. It’s a very anxious, dramatic storytelling tool originally designed for a very anxious, dramatic protagonist. I find it speaks to the overall tone of the franchise that some characters are functionally psychics, but with a psychic ability that only points out problems.

Spidey sense pinging? There’s danger, be stressed! Broken? Now the lead won’t even KNOW when there’s a problem, scary! Single character is immune to it? That’s an invisible knife in the dark oh my god what the fuck what the fU--

Like its counterpart in garden variety anxiety, the only time the spider-sense reduces tension is in the middle of a crisis. But in the wish fulfillmenty way that you want in an adventure story to justify exaggerated action sequences, the same way enhanced strength or durability does. Also like those, it would theoretically make someone much safer to have it, but it exists in the story to let your character navigate into and weather more dangerous situations.

For its basic role in a story, a danger sense is a snappy way to rile up both the reader and the protagonist that doesn’t offer much information beyond that it’s time to sit smart because shit is about to go down.

Spidey comic canon is all over the board in quality and genre, and it started needing to subvert its formulas before the creators got a handle on what those formulas even were, and basically no one has read anything approaching most of it at this point, so for consistent examples of a really bare bones use of this power in storytelling, I’d point to the property that’s done the best job yet of boiling down the mechanics of Spider-Man to their absolute most basic essentials for adaptation to a compelling monster of the week TV series.

Or as you probably know it, Danny Phantom. DON’T BOO, I’M RIGHT.

DP is Spider-Man with about 2/3 of the serial numbers filed off and no death (ironically), and Danny’s ghost sense is the most proof in the formula example of what the spidey sense is for: It’s a big sign held up for the viewer that says, “Something is wrong! Pay attention!” Effectively a visual scare chord. It’s about That Drama. And it works, which won it a consistent place in the show’s formula. We’re talking several times an episode here.

So why does it work?

It’s a little counterintuitive, but it’s strong storytelling to tell your audience that something bad is going to happen before it does. A vague, punchy spoiler transforms the ignorant calm before a conflict into a tense moment of anticipation. ...And it makes sure people don’t fail to absorb the beginning of said conflict because they weren’t prepared to shift gears when the scene did. Shock is a valuable tool, too, but treating it like a staple is how you burn out your audience instead of keeping them engaged. Not to go after an easy target, but you need to know how to manage your audience’s alarm if you don’t want to end up like Game of Thrones.

The limits of the spider-sense also keep you on your toes when handled by a smart writer. It tells Peter (everyone’s is a little different, so I’m going to cite the og) about threats to his person, but it doesn’t elaborate with any details when it’s not already obvious why, what kind, and from what. And it doesn’t warn him about anything else-- Which is a pretty critical gap when you zoom out and look at his hero career’s successes and failures and conclude that it’s definitely why he’s lived as long as he has acting the way he does, but was useless as he failed to save a string of people he’d have much rather had live on than him.

(Any long-running superhero mythos has these incidents, but with Peter they’re important to the core themes.)

And since this power is by plot for plot (or because it’s roughly agreed it only really blares about threats that check at least two boxes of being major, immediate, or physical), it always kicks in enough to register when the danger is bearing down...when it’s too late to actually do anything about it if “anything” is a more complex action than “dodge”.

Really? Not until the elevator doors started to open?

That Distinctive, Crunchy Spider Flavor

The spider-sense and its little pen squiggles go hand in hand with wallcrawling (and its unique and instantly identifiable associated body language) to make the Spider-Person powerset enduringly iconic and elevate characters with it from being generic mid-level super-bricks. Visually, but also in how it shapes the story.

I said it can share a narrative role with super strength. But when you end a fight and go home, super strength continues to make your character feel powerful, probably safer than they’d be otherwise, maybe dangerous.

The spider-sense just keeps blaring, “Something’s wrong! Something’s wrong! God, why aren’t you doing something about this!?”

Pretty morose thing to live with, for a safety net! Kind of a double edged sword you have there! Could be constantly being hyperattuned to problems would prime you for a negative outlook on life. Kind of seems like a power that would make it impossible for a moral person to take a day off, leading them into a beleaguered and resentful yet dutiful attitude about the whole superhero gig! Might build up to some of the core traits of this mythos, maybe! Might lead to a lot of fifteen minute retirement stories, or something. Might even be a built in ‘great responsibility’ alarm that gets you a main character who as a rule is not going to stop fighting until he physically cannot fight anymore.

Certainly not apropos of anything, just throwing this short lived barely-a-joke tagline up for fun.

One of my personal favorite things about stories with superpowers is keeping in mind how they cause the people who have them to act in unusual ways outside of fights, so when you tell me that these people have an entire extra sense that tells them when the gas in their house is leaking through a barely useful hot/cold warning system that never turns off, I’m like, eyes emojis, popcorn out, notebook open, listening intently, spectacles on, the whole deal.

It also contributes to Peter Parker’s personality in a way I really enjoy: It allows him to act like an irrational maniac. When you know exactly when a situation becomes dangerous and how much, normal levels of caution go out the window and absolutely nothing you do makes sense from an exterior standpoint anymore. That’s the good shit. I would like to see more exploration of how the non-Parker characters experiencing the world in this incredibly altered way bounce in response.

It’s also one of many tools in this franchise hauling the reader into relating more closely with the main character. The backbone of classic Spidey is probably being in on secrets only Peter and the reader know which completely reframe how one views the situation on the page. It’s just a big irony mine for the whole first decade. A convenient way to inform the reader and the lead that something is bad news that’s not perceivable to any other characters is youth-with-a-big-exciting-secret catnip.

Another point for tension, there, in that being aware of danger is not synonymous with being able to act on it. If there’s no visible reason for you to be acting strange, well...you’re just going to have to sit tight and sweat, aren’t you? Some gratuitous head wiggles never hurt when setting up that type of conflict.

Have I mentioned that they look cool? Simultaneously punchy and distinctive, with a respectable amount of leeway for artists to get creative with and still coming up with something easily recognizable? And pretty easy to intuit the meaning of even without the long-winded explanations common in the days when people wrote comics with the intent that someone could come in cold on any random issue and follow along okay, I think, although the mechanic has been deeply ingrained in popular culture for so long that I can’t really say for sure.

It was also useful back in the day when no artists drew the eyes on the Spider-Man mask as emoting and were conveying the lead’s expressions entirely through body language and panel composition. If you wiggle enough squiggles, you don’t need eyebrows.

Take This Handwave and Never Ask Me a Logistical Question Again

This ability patches plot holes faster than people can pick them open AND it can act as an excuse to get any plot rolling you can think of if paired with one meddling protagonist who doesn’t know how to mind their own business. Buy it now for only $19.99 (in four installments; that’s four installments of $19.99).

Why can a teenager win a six on one fight against other superhumans? Well, the spider-sense is the ultimate edge in combat, duh.

Why can Peter websling? Why doesn’t everyone websling? Well, the spider-sense is keeping him from eating flagpole when he violently flings himself across New York in a way neither man nor spider was ever meant to move.

How are we supposed to get him involved with the plot this week???? Well, that crate FELT dangerous, so he’s going to investigate it. Oh, dip, it was full of guns and radioactive snakes! Probably shouldn’t have opened that!

Yeah, okay, but why isn’t it fixing everything, then? Isn’t it supposed to be why Peter has never accidentally unmasked in front of somebody? ('Nother entry for this section, take a shot.) That’s crazy sensitive! How does he still have any problems!? Is everything bad that’s ever happened to characters with this powerset bad writing!? --Listen, I think as people with uncanny senses that can tell us whether we are in danger with accuracy that varies from incredible to approximate (I am talking about the five senses that most people have), we should all know better than to underestimate our ability to tune them out or interpret them wrong and fuck ourselves up anyway. I honestly find this part completely realistic.

*SLAPS ROOF OF SPIDER-SENSE* YOU CAN FIT SO MANY STORIES IN THIS THING

The spider-sense is a clean branch into...whatever. There is the exact right balance of structure and wishy-washiness to build off of. A sample selection of whatevers that have been built:

It’s sci-fi and spy gadgets when Peter builds technology that can interface with it.

It’s quasi-mystical when Kaine and Annie-May get stronger versions of it that give them literal psychic visions, or when you want to get mythological and start talking about all the spider-characters being part of a grand web of fate.

Kaine loses his and it becomes symbolic of a future newly unbound by constraints, entangled thematically with the improved physical health he picked up at the same time -- a loss presented as a gain.

Peter loses his and almost dies 782 times in one afternoon because that didn’t make the people he provoked when he had it stop trying to kill him, and also because he isn’t about to start “””taking the subway’’””’ “‘’“”to work”””’’” like some kind of loser who doesn’t get a heads up when he’s about to hit a pigeon at 50mph.

Peter’s starts tuning into his wife’s anxiety and it’s a tool in a relationship study.

It starts pinging whenever Peter’s near his boss who’s secretly been replaced by a shapeshifter and he IGNORES IT because his boss is enough of an asshole that that doesn’t strike him as weird; now it’s a comedy/irony tool.

Into the Spider-Verse made it this beautiful poetic thing connecting all the spider-heroes in the multiverse and stacked up a story on it about instant connection, loss, and incredibly unlikely strangers becoming a found family. It was also aesthetic as FUCK. Remember the scene where Miles just hears barely intelligible whispering that’s all lines people say later in the film and then his own voice very clearly says “look out” and then the room explodes?? Fuck!!!!

Venom becomes immune to it after hitchhiking to Earth in Peter’s bone juice and it makes him a unique threat while telling a more-homoerotic-than-I-assume-was-originally-intended story about violation and how close relationships can be dangerous when they go sour.

It doesn’t work on people you trust for maximum soap opera energy. Love the innate tragedy of this feature coming up.

IN CONCLUSION I don’t have much patience for writers who don’t take advantage of it, never mind feel they need to write around it.

[love-and-monsters]

Harpy Rescue

M monster X F reader, 7,143 words

You wash up on an island after a shipwreck. The harpy natives take you in and you find companionship with a certain healer who’s been caring for you. 

I stared blankly at the sky above me. I was lying back on a beach. The tide was coming in underneath me. The salt water stung at the raw scrapes on my back.

It was struggle to breathe. My lungs spasmed and heaved with every breath. All my energy went into keeping my lungs heaving.

It was ironic. The only person who survived the shipwreck was the one who would die anyway.

None of my limbs would move. I knew I wasn’t paralyzed, if only because that would have dulled sensation and I could feel every scrape and bruise over the surface of my body. I just couldn’t move under my own power.

 It took all my energy to keep breathing. It hurt just to breathe. My lungs stuttered over the air, threatening to stop altogether every time. Even with all my effort going into it, I still felt faintly dizzy from lack of air.

There were birds, enormous birds, circling overhead. Carrion birds, probably. They could see me lying on the beach and probably assumed they were getting a nice lunch.

The water was getting higher. It was a race, I thought morbidly. Would the water drown me before the birds managed to eat my entrails?

They were coming down more rapidly now. They were huge. Perhaps I would get lucky and they would fight one another for long enough that the waves would come in. I would take drowning over being torn apart hungry birds.

The tide was coming in faster. I could feel it lapping around my ears. A particularly strong wave made me sputter and I spent nearly a minute coughing and gasping. It was harder than ever to breathe. Perhaps drowning wouldn’t be substantially more pleasant than being eaten alive.

One of the birds plunged into a dive, spurring the others to follow. They drifted out of my sight and no matter how far I rolled my eyes back, I couldn’t see them. Great. I just had to wait in anticipation.

There was a crunching behind me, the sound of something approaching. Another wave struck me and I choked, coughing on the water. Black spots popped in front of my eyes and I felt my entire body heave, water trickling from my mouth.

A hand caught my shoulder. With a heave, I was dragged out of the shallow water and up onto the firmer beach. Tilting my head back, I managed to catch sight of my rescuers.

They hadn’t been birds, I realized. They had just looked like birds from a distance. My rescuers were a group of concerned-looking harpies.

If I had any sense of dramatic timing, I likely would have passed out then. It would have made the situation much less awkward, at least. But I remained stubbornly awake, staring up at the small throng of harpies.

Their heads and torsos were humanoid, but they seemed to have a combination between arms and wings. Their arms were feathered and there was a split at the wrists between hands and the final joint of the wing. Their legs were scaled and ended in large, heavy talons. All of them had deeply tanned skin and dark brown hair and feathers.

They spoke to one another for a moment, in a language I couldn’t understand. Then, the one that had dragged me up the beach bent over and hauled me into his arms.

The group headed off the beach and into the tropical jungle beyond. It was getting harder and harder to remain conscious. I faded in and out, struggling to keep my consciousness together. The blackouts grew longer and longer and the tightening pain in my chest was growing sharper. Breathing was almost painfully difficult.

Another bit of irony for me. I had been saved from drowning only for my condition to kill me right away.

The last thing I was aware of was the man carrying me speaking rapidly before I was deposited on solid ground with a jolt.

When I opened my eyes again, there was a ceiling above me. It was thatched, and there were several bundles of herbs hanging from the rafters. The pain of my body had eased, and though my chest burned, it had loosened significantly. After a few breaths, I had gained enough energy to sit up.

“Here.” Someone to my right pushed a bowl into my hands. It was full of a strong-smelling liquid that made my nose run and my sinuses clear almost instantly. “It’ll help with your breathing.”

The person next to me was the same man who had carried me off the beach. I hadn’t gotten the best look at him, but he had the same golden-brown feathers and his long, braided hair was done up in the same style. I dipped my head and took a few swallows from the bowl.

It burned worse than any whiskey I’d ever tried. I sputtered, eyes watering, but the tension in my chest did fade. The bands that had always restricted my breathing loosened ever so slightly and I gulped air gratefully.

The man outstretched his hands and took the bowl back. I sputtered a few more times before my breathing calmed. “What is that?”

“An old remedy for chest trouble. It’s steeped out of different herbs.” As he set the bowl on a nearby table, I realized something.

“You speak English?” I asked.

“Some. My aunt met with travelers many years ago. She taught me. Just in case.” He leaned back in his seat, stretching his legs out in front of him. Something behind him shifted and I noticed his tail, made of the same brown feathers as his wings. “You must have inhaled a lot of salt water. Your breathing was bad.” He tapped his chest demonstratively. “You were wheezing.”

“It does that anyway. But the almost drowning didn’t help.” I pushed yourself up in bed. “Where am I?”

“Healer’s house,” he said. “In Namori Village. You were brought here by the storm, yes?”

“Not on purpose,” I said. “I was sailing to Larmark. They have a good hospital there. I was going for an examination.” I rubbed at my chest. “I don’t suppose you have any ships heading in that direction?”

“We are not a sailing people,” the man said with an apologetic smile. I slouched back into the bed. I wasn’t as upset about it as I should have been. The treatment was supposed to find a way to cure my condition. Without it, I could be beset by a sudden bought of chest tightness that could kill me at any moment. It had nearly done so several times in my childhood. But I had lived my life with it so far. I was just back where I’d started.

“She’s up!” I looked up to see an older woman harpy leaning over me. “Thought I told you to call for me, boy.” The male harpy ducked his head, looking properly ashamed. “Took quite a beating from that storm. Lucky you made it to shore.” She flicked her wings. “We saw the ship go down last night. Didn’t expect anyone would survive. You’re lucky we noticed you.”

“There’s something wrong with her chest,” the male harpy said. “She wheezes.”

“Noticed that.” The woman looked me over. Her eyes were a piercing yellow. “Thought it was from the seawater. It’s usually like that?”

“Yes. Since I was a child. I had some sort of illness that damaged it. I wouldn’t worry about it too much. I’ve never allowed it to bother me.” I’m sure my voice would have been much more reassuring, but my chest contracted in a cough and I heaved a few times.

“Perhaps you should let it bother you more. Give her more of that infusion, Nor. And recheck her ribs, just to be safe.”

“Yes, Aunt Aerath,” Nor said. She turned on her heels and strode off. We were in a back room, I noticed, small and full of warm light. Nor turned back to me. “Sit up. Drink.” I sipped more of the brew he’d given me while he prodded at my ribs. It was a little ticklish and I had to work not to squirm.

“Your ribs are fine,” Nor said eventually. “But your chest is weak.”

“Well, nothing I didn’t already know.” I rolled over, ignoring the sharp pains that came to me. “Can I move around?”

Nor nodded and I got up. He hovered close by as I shuffled around. I’d been stripped down to my shift, which would have been embarrassing if both of them hadn’t been wearing something similar. They both seemed to be wearing something like togas, though Nor’s skirt was long enough to trail on the ground. Both their outfits were a deep navy blue.

There was a partially ajar door and I stepped through it, onto the forest floor outside. The trees were enormous, towering over everything. Up in the branches, harpies darted back and forth, flitting between the branches. I could see nest-like houses nestled in the crooks of the trees.

“We’re on the ground,” I said. Nor nodded.

“Healers live on the ground. In case flightless ones come to us,” he explained.

 “Ah. That’s sensible.” I stared up, looking into the trees with some interest. At least if I was going to be staying there for a while, it was a beautiful, fascinating place.

Nor took me back inside and fed me a chunk of meat along with a few fruits. I needed to heat the meat over the fire for a little longer- apparently harpies liked their meat fairly rare. Aerath returned after that and forced a few more herbal brews down my throat, which she said would help with the pain.

“I expect I’ll be here for a while,” I said as I handed one of her cups back to her. My mouth tasted like I’d licked the underside of a stone. The brews were unpleasant at best, though I could already feel a numbness creeping into my injuries.

“Humans come by only rarely,” Aerath said. “And there isn’t much of a pattern. Our species is not water faring and we can’t fly to the next mainland. Ocean flight is not easy.”

“Which is a taciturn way of saying I am stuck here.”

“No more than us,” Nor said.

“Be kind. She has lost her home,” Aerath said sternly. I shrugged, leaning back in bed.

“It’s not as awful as you may think. I was sailing to a hospital, you see. It was likely I would spend the rest of my life there, which, even with all that care, may not have been very long.” I shrugged. “At least this place is better for the soul.”

Nor turned his head and spoke to his aunt rapidly in his own language. She frowned, but responded in the same way. I ignored the pair of them and moved back to bed. Despite not having been awake for very long, I was already exhausted. My chest stuttered as I tried to lie flat on my back and I paused for a moment, wheezing.

Nor darted over and adjusted my pillow behind me. “Better?”

“Yes, thank you.” Nor nodded, then slipped out of the room. Aerath lingered for a moment, looking at me.

“We’ll be upstairs if you require us. If you can’t walk, knock heavy things over until we come for you.” With that, she exited the room. The door closed behind her and I slumped back into the pillow, eyes closing.

I slept fitfully, especially after the pain medication wore off. By the time Nor brought breakfast, I was already up and walking around. There were several journals with detailed drawings of plants in them. I couldn’t read the writing, but I could see what the plants were and I spent some time matching them to the herbs hanging around the room.

“Quite an interesting journal,” I told Nor as he sat down to eat with me. “Did your aunt write it?”

He shook his head. “She is…” He struggled with the word for a moment. “Practical? A… practice? She remembers by senses, not words. But I need reminders.”

“You’re quite good at drawing,” I said. “I kept similar journals, though they sank with the ship.” He looked at me with clear surprise. “I had little else to do. I could rarely go out, so I spent much time in the gardens, drawing and remarking upon the plants. These remind me of my own journals.”

“When I am collecting herbs, I enjoy drawing them. Seeing nature. It is soothing.” He seemed to grow more excited, then composed himself. “I could show you garden, if you’d like?”

“I would,” I said. He grinned, then hopped to his taloned feet as his aunt entered the room.

I did not end up seeing the garden that day, principally because I spent much of it in bed. Nor stopped by every now and then, sometimes with food, more often with a new bundle of plants to tie up and hang from the ceiling. He seemed to go into a sort of trance when he was sorting the herbs, a sort of peaceful state.

It took a few days before I was approved to walk into town. “Don’t stress yourself too much. You’re still recovering,” Aerath said.

“I’ll keep an eye on her,” Nor said. He fluttered his wings at his aunt, shooing her away. “We’ll be fine.”

Being without wings earned me a great deal of stares. I was viewed with some general suspicion, as far as I could tell. I was allowed to stay because there seemed to be a consensus that throwing me into the wilderness would absolutely kill me, and they had decided not to be that cruel. Not wanting me to die, however, did not necessarily mean that I was accepted by the community. Having Nor with me seemed to help, at least somewhat. He was at least well respected, and being in his presence absorbed you into his aura of decency.

The village seemed to have been built into the enormous trees of the forest. Several houses had been formed out of several trees carefully grown together through cultivation, and the living pavilion, formed out of ten trees carefully coaxed into growing around each other, was the great centerpiece of the town.

Getting to see the town as a group also drew your eye to the cultural similarities between them. A majority of adults had short hair, while children seemed to exclusively have long hair. There didn’t seem to be a clear age delineation between them. Based on appearances, Nor was older than a few of those with short hair, though no one under a certain age had their hair cut.

“Is there a reason for the hair styling?” I asked. “You wear your hair long, but most adults seem to keep theirs short.”

“Oh,” Nor said, with a tiny, dismissive flick of his feathers. “They are… erm. I am not certain of the word. Paired?”

“Married,” I guessed, and Nor’s expression brightened.

“Yes. Married. Part of the ceremony includes cutting hair. Most couples keep their hair short, to show they are with someone. Long hair can be difficult to fly with. To keep your hair short means you have someone who makes it easy to fly.” He frowned for a moment. “It is a pun in my language. It does not work as well in yours.”

“I think I get it,” I said. “But your aunt is unmarried and her hair is short.”

“She is…” There was a long pause. Nor seemed to be struggling to think of the proper words. “Bound to work? Committed to healing? Something along those lines, I believe. She is joined to her job as one is bound to a lover.”

I frowned. “Healers are like nuns, then?”

Nor frowned too. “Like… nones? Healers are not nothing.”

“No, like nuns. It’s spelled differently.” Nor looked entirely blank. I suspected he couldn’t write English. “Nuns are people who take vows not to marry so they can become closer to God, as I understand it. Healers do something similar.”

Nor still seemed confused. “Not all healers. Only Aunt Aerath.” He reached up and touched the long braid that was coiled on the back of his head. “I have… not decided.”

“Well, you’ve got time.” We were quite close to the healing house again, but I paused and leaned against a tree. My chest was squeezing again and I needed a break. “I never planned on marrying, really.”

“Why not?” Nor asked.

“I didn’t expect to live terribly long,” I said frankly. “I have spent much of my life expecting to die from a sudden attack. And then my parents suggested that I go to a hospital for treatment, and it’s rare to marry once you end up in those sort of places.” I smoothed my new robes idly. “I never expected to have a husband  who would be okay with his wife dropping dead at any moment.”

Nor fluttered his wings. “You are not going to die,” he said. 

“It’s all right. I’m content with it. I have been this way all my life. I value every moment now. It’s nothing new to me.” Nor still looked discomfited, so I patted his shoulder reassuringly. “Truly, I’m fine. We should head back now.”

Nor plied me with the strange, spicy concoction for my chest when we returned home. I drank the lot of it, at his insistence. It did seem to help. There was something about the warmth of it that relaxed my lungs and brought air in easier.

As my recovery finalized, I began to look for ways to serve my new community. It was not something terribly easy. I could not fly, or truly do any sort of intense physical activity, which limited my options. Sewing and weaving, actions that had often been suggested to me, held no more interest for me in the village than they had in my own home. Trying to manipulate tiny threads that tangled at the slightest glance was infuriating, and my frustration often ended in chest-heaving coughing fits. I tried to go back to writing my journals, examining nature and writing about it, but there seemed to be little actual use for it.

Eventually, I began tagging along with Nor when he went to collect herbs in the forest. He’d been going out more and more often, looking for new plants and writing furiously in his notebooks. I could read them more easily now, having spent a few weeks immersed in a crash course of his language.

“Just make sure you watch out for snakes,” Nor said as we trekked through the thick foliage.

“Look out for what?” I said. I was at the awkward stage of learning a language where I knew most common words, but words that were used infrequently were still lost.

“Snakes? Er. <Snakes!>” Nor said in English.

“Snakes,” I repeated. “Are there a lot of them?” I looked cautiously at the ground.

“No. Not a lot. But there are some venomous ones that bite if you step on them.” Unsettled, I lifted up the hem of my robe, peering cautiously at the leaf litter. The clothes harpies wore were not well-designed for people without tails or wings. I had needed to do some rudimentary tailoring to fix it into something I could walk around in. Shoes had been another problem entirely, mostly because harpies had tough, scaled feet and wore no shoes. I had eventually just decided to layer several thick fabrics together and essentially tied them to my feet. They were neither comfortable nor easy to wear, but they were practical and had stopped your soles from being shredded.

We made our way slowly through the woods. I ended up holding onto Nor’s arm wing for much of it. Never having worked out for long periods of time had left me fairly uncoordinated and leaning on Nor made it much easier for me to move about.

“Look. Norell,” he said, picking up a bunch of sharp-smelling, pink flowered herbs from the ground. “My namesake.”

“What are they used for?” I asked.

“Chest conditions, actually. They’re a big part of the infusion I’ve been giving you.” Nor had been giving me a regular doses of that infusion. Taking some in the morning seemed to loosen my chest for the rest of the day. “I’ve been trying to make a stronger infusion, so we’ll need a lot of it.”

“Are you predicting a spike in chest conditions?” I asked. Winter was on its way, and apparently, due to their large, powerful lungs, harpies were quite susceptible to issues like pneumonia and bronchitis. But that seemed to be counterbalanced by the fact that winter was mild on the island, more of a tepidly cool wet season than a proper snowy winter.

Nor shifted on the ground. His wings twitched a little. It was hard to tell, thanks to his deeply brown skin, but I thought I could see a hint of red creeping into his cheeks. “It’s for you, actually.”

I lifted my brows. “For me?”

“It’s been helping you recently,” Nor said, a little defensively. “I thought that a stronger infusion would help even more.” He frowned critically at the plants. “I want to get it as concentrated as possible. But there’s not enough in the gardens right now, so I need more.” He straightened up, tucking a bundle of plants away into his bag. “Also, infusions will keep a little better than the herbs themselves, so I can keep them for longer. You’ll need some when the growing season ends.”

“You’ll need some for others as well,” I said. “Keep some in reserve.”

“If you need it, you need it,” Nor said. “I’d rather give herbs to someone who definitely needs them than reserve some in case someone else might need them.”

“Wouldn’t it be better to fully heal someone who can be fully healed than to keep giving supplements to someone who will always be sick?” I said. Nor’s feathers bristled, shifting in agitation.

“All people deserve healing. Whether or not their condition is curable. I want you to be well.” His tone was so severe that I could do nothing but stare at him. After a moment, he seemed to realize what he’d said and he broke eye contact, staring at the ground. “We should, ah. Head back.”

He started trekking through the woods rapidly. Harpies were notably better at balance on uneven terrain, thanks to their long, gripping talons. I struggled to keep up with him.

We were getting quite close to the village when I felt the unfortunately familiar seizing sensation in my chest. I stopped dead, enormously regretting my walking speed that had left me a little breathless. It was growing harder by the moment to inhale.

Nor paused, realized I was no longer with him, and hurried back to my side. “Are you okay?” he asked. One of his hands moved along my back, kneading my tightening muscles. “Breathe. Breathe!” If I had the air for it, I would have informed him I was trying, and was well aware that I needed to be breathing. Unfortunately, all my energy was going into not allowing my body to suffocate me.

Nor abruptly decided that simply telling me to breathe was ineffective and changed tact. “Hold on!” This turned out to be quite literal because he seized me around the waist and hefted me against his chest.

It was impossible for a harpy to fly while carrying something, because their arms and wings were one and the same, but I could have been fooled considering how fast Nor was moving. He plunged through the forest as fast as the wind. I would have been more impressed if I wasn’t struggling to breathe at the moment. As it was, I was aware that we were moving at quite a speed.

Nor was back in the healing house within minutes. I was unceremoniously dumped on the bed and Nor darted off, rummaging through a cabinet with a noise of wood rattling and glass clinking.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” he said. He knelt next to me, turning my head toward him. “You just need to drink this. Okay?”

I tried to inhale enough to speak and it stuck in my chest, sparking a coughing fit. Nor looked panicked and thrust the little bottle he was holding into my mouth. I sputtered, but some of the liquid spilled down my throat. There was a mild tingling and my chest loosened.

With my breathing abruptly eased, I could keep taking small sips from the bottle. The tightness loosened with every swallow. Nor slumped next to the bed, wings sagging with relief. I put down the bottle, still coughing, but breathing easier.

“Are you okay?” Nor asked. I nodded.

“You can move quick,” I said. My voice was raspy and a little strangled. I swallowed, trying to fully clear my throat.

“I was worried,” he said. “You should try carrying a bottle of this with you from now on.” He walked over to the cabinet and fetched a small bottle full of the infusion. “If you’re going to be going out more often, you’ll want something to prevent more attacks.”

I took the bottle. “That’s a good idea.” I set it down onto the table next to the bed. “Are you inviting me on more herb gathering missions, then?”

A slightly shy smile crept up Nor’s face. “If you’d like to come. You’ve been pretty good at spotting plants. And you’ve been pretty good in the gardens lately.”

“I was never really able to do a lot of gardening before,” I said. “So, I tended to overfocus on the little minute details, like soil quality and the amount of water you give the plants.”

“You’ve improved the garden a lot,” Nor said. “Oh, which reminds me. Hold on.”

He stood up and trotted over to the cabinet again. After looking through it for a few moments, he pulled out a small notebook and walked back over. “Here,” he said, presenting it to me. It looked like the notebooks he used for his own notes, a smooth black cover and soft, slightly off-white pages. “I haven’t taken many notes on the gardening aspects of herbs. I just… haven’t been very good at it. But I thought you could start taking notes on how you care for the plants. It might be useful.”

I took the notebook from his hands. Our fingers brushed as I did so. His skin was warm and calloused, the sort of skin that only came around after long, hard work. The notebook was heavy in my hands, strangely dense for such a small item. “Thank you,” I said. “I would love to do that.”

Nor stood, shifting on his talons. “Good. Um. You should probably get some rest. I’ll be back in a bit.” He hurried out of the room. I watched him go until his tail had completely vanished around the doorway.

Working in the garden only brought me closer to Nor. We spent time together every day, either going out to gather herbs or helping him with the garden. He was enthusiastic to learn and good company even when we weren’t talking about plants.

His ease with me spread to the rest of the village. By the time winter was over, I had been completely accepted as a part of the community. To them, I was not as much an outsider human as a strange, wingless harpy. Even Aerath trusted me enough to allow me to learn how to make herbal remedies, while Nor took on more of her duties, like diagnosing illnesses and dressing wounds.

During early spring, when the rains began to ease, a change set in around the village. There was a new current of excitement, the younger adults spending more time showing off and engaging in stunts. Even Nor, who had been fairly even tempered in the time I’d known him, seemed to get caught up in the excitement.

It was during my usual work in the garden that I noticed the changes were not confined to emotional. There was a physical change too. Nor’s tail feathers, usually a deep golden-brown, had taken on a rusty color. The color only brightened over the next week, going from a dull, sort of reddish orange to a bright crimson. The colors showed up on the male population of the rest of the village as well, to varying degrees. Some, especially the younger males, never got past a reddish orange, while others got to the same brilliant crimson hue as Nor’s.

While it garnered some sort of notice and people seemed pleased about it, no one was talking about what it actually meant. It clearly meant something, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on why it was so important.

Eventually, after some time of trying to figure out what it meant on my own, I broke down and decided to ask Nor. “Your tail changed color,” I said as we headed back into the house from the garden.

“You noticed,” Nor said. His tone was utterly unreadable.

“Well, it’s a bit hard to miss. It’s a very bright color.” Nor’s unreadable expression shifted into one of clear embarrassment. “Is it something I shouldn’t mention? It seems to signal something, but I wasn’t sure what it was-”

“No, no. I mean, I guess I should have expected you to ask about it. You’re not a harpy, so you never would have been told.” He set the herbs he’d collected down on the table and turned to me, giving me his full attention. “It’s almost spring, which means that we’re approaching our mating season.”

I felt sort of stupid for not hitting upon that idea earlier. Of course. The red was to attract a mate. Was commenting on it some kind of social faux pas? As I tried to come up with that to say next, Nor continued. “We’ll have a mating ceremony soon, with the other local villages. It’s a big event, so everyone’s getting rather excited about it.”

“A… mating ceremony?” I repeated. How carnal were we talking? Was I going to have to make myself scarce for… how long did the mating ceremony last, anyway?

“It’s not as bad as you’re thinking,” Nor added hurriedly. “It’s more of a competition? Or a show, really. It lasts about a week, and the first six days are more of a festival than anything. Lots of feasting, games, shows. It’s more about getting to know the other villages and the people from them. It’s quite fun. The festival ends with the mating ceremony. It used to be a more literal interpretation of that, a long time ago. But now it’s really more of a show. Men fly around and show off, but it’s less to attract a mate and more to show off to someone you already have an attraction to. Or to get someone to ask you out, sometimes. It’s more for the fun of it and the tradition.”

“It sounds interesting,” I said.

“It should start in a couple of weeks. That’s the peak of the season,” Nor said. “I can show you around a bit, if you’d like.”

“Sure. If you’re not going to be too busy trying to find a soulmate,” I said, nudging him playfully in the side. He shrugged, glancing away.

“I’ve never actually participated all that much in it,” he said. “I’ve been kind of focused on my studies with my aunt. I spent most of my time at the last few festivals working with the other healers.”

“You should get out more, then. I can help your aunt out, if you want. Then you can go off and see the sights.”

“I already told you I’d show you around,” Nor protested. “And it’ll be your first festival.”

“Look, at least get a little time to yourself,” I said. “I can help out, you know.”

“We’ll see,” Nor said, which was as close to agreeing as I thought he was going to get.

The weeks passed slowly, with excitement ramping up as the festival got closer. I could almost feel the tension buzzing in the air, getting ready to overflow. By the time it had arrived, I was almost swept up in the rising excitement.

The fairground for the festival was a large clearing in the center of the island. It had an impressive view of the sky, and the ground was almost entirely covered in tents and attractions. Nor and I were toward the edge of the grounds, in a sort of makeshift medical tent. “We probably won’t be called on for a little bit,” he said once we’d finished setting everything up. “I can show you around.”

“Sure,” I agreed. Nor trotted off, and I followed after, looking around the festival with interest.

Most of it seemed like the sort of festivals I’d seen once or twice when I’d been young. Ever since my chest troubles had set in fully, I’d rarely gone far from my house. It looked mostly like a very fancy market. People showed off their most interesting wares, their most brightly colored or intricately designed trinkets. There were several people slightly younger than Nor picking up things that I assumed were for potential sweethearts. There were also several games, most of them for children, but a few clearly styled for adults. The food was the usual hearty fare that I’d seen at other festivals, enormously delicious and decadent.

“And this all lasts a whole week?” I asked as we made our way back to the healer’s tent. We had gotten sidetracked a few times- there were several musical performances and talent shows, and even a few classes that I’d been interested in taking.

“Well, the first and last days are the biggest ones. But yes, the whole week. For the most part.”

“Then you can take a day or two off and enjoy all this, can’t you?” I said. Nor hesitated for a moment. “I can handle things at the tent. Why don’t you take tomorrow off? It’ll be good for you to get a break.”

Nor hesitated. “I’ll have to ask my aunt.”

“I’ll make sure she says yes,” I said. “You deserve it. Especially after having to take care of me for so long.”

Nor shrugged and mumbled something about it not being a big deal. I laughed clapping him on the shoulder.

“Just take some time off. Okay?”

He agreed, finally, and we returned to the tent. There were a few injuries, of course, mostly young people trying to show off for their potential lovers, but nothing we were overwhelmed with. It took only a bit of persuading for Aerath to give Nor the next day off.

Nor went out only after making sure I kept my infusion on me. “Just be careful,” he said.

“I’m always careful,” I told him. “Now, go. And stop worrying so much.” He made a face, but left for the rest of the fairgrounds, leaving me with Aerath and the other healers.

I only spotted him a few times during the day. He seemed to have attracted a small group of friends by noon. It seemed he could get along well with others, as long as he managed to get out. Well, I reflected, he was a sweetheart. It wasn’t hard to believe that he was able to get along with others.

I’d been breathing relatively easy for so long that I hadn’t really been expecting another attack. So, when the bout of tightness came on with no warning, I was so shocked I couldn’t think of what to do for several panicked moments.

My wheezing attracted Aerath’s attention. She grabbed my shoulder and shoved me down onto a cot. I fumbled for the infusion, and Aerath helped me unstopper it and press it to my lips.

The infusion helped, but my chest still felt tight. I could draw in air, but it wasn’t enough. Black spots started to pop in front of my vision. My chest screamed with pain. I was dying. That thought sat clear and calm in my brain, rising above all the panic like foam over a tide. I’d known it was going to happen. I’d hoped it would take longer. But at least… at least the last few months of my life had been nice. My mind drifted to Nor. Hopefully he wouldn’t blame himself. He didn’t deserve that. He’d been wonderful.

Nor’s face was suddenly over mine. I blinked up at him. Ha. A nice hallucination before everything ended.

“Breathe!” Distantly, I could feel a hand on my chest, another at my mouth. Something sharp and bitter flowed past my lips and I choked, sputtering. My chest loosened abruptly and I sucked in a great breath, coughing and choking.

Nor, who I was gradually realizing was actually there and not just a hallucination, rolled me onto my side. Some of the solution drained from my mouth as I coughed it up. Nor rubbed my back vigorously, prompting another round of coughing.

Gradually, the tightness eased to just a faint raspiness and a raw pain. I sat up as Nor sank into a seat, weak with relief. “I thought you were going to die,” he said faintly.

“I did too.” My voice was gravely and everything felt raw. “The infusion wasn’t working. What did you use?”

“It was experimental,” Nor said a little sheepishly. “I’ve been trying to make it stronger, something that works better.”

“Thank goodness it did,” I said. I got slowly off the cot where I’d collapsed. Nor stood as well, staying close by like he was preparing to catch me.

“Maybe we should fine somewhere to rest,” Nor said. “The attack probably took it out of you.”

Despite your protests, Nor followed you back home and insisted on staying with you. “Just in case,” he kept repeating.

Nor kept near my side for the next few days, even when I tried to gently push him to spend time elsewhere and enjoy the event. The only times he seemed willing to leave was when I was going with him, at which point he took great enthusiasm in showing me around the various games and events that were being held. Being near him allowed even me to make some new friends- those who would have been unsettled by the sight of some strange, wingless creature seemed reassured enough by Nor’s friendly presence to approach.

Despite his insistence on sticking with me, I did convince him to take another day off for the last day of the festival. It was the day of the mating ceremony, and, given that Nor was of proper age, possibly even a little old, to participate in it, I wanted to give him time to do so.

The showing started at noon sharp, when the sun was at its zenith. Most of the people flying were male, though a few women had painted their tails red and were flying as well. A few would take off at a time and move in carefully coordinated dances. Some were conservative and simple, others were aggressive and risk-taking. Eventually, they would land back in the throng of people staring at the sky. Some of them landed and slipped off with a single partner. Others landed and seemed to attract a group, each of the admirers vying for attention.

After about an hour, I meandered off to the bank of a nearby river. Watching harpies fly was interesting, but it did get old after a while and I was getting a crick in my neck from looking up.

I had only been soaking my feet in the river for a few minutes when Nor walked up to me and sat down next to me. “Wondered where you’d gone,” he said. “Doing all right?”

“Fine. You don’t need to be so worried.”

Nor dipped his talons into the water. “Mm. I guess. But I do anyway.”

“I wish you wouldn’t,” I said. “You spent half of the festival trailing after me like I would collapse the instant you took your eyes off me. And now you’re missing out on the flight ceremony.”

It was hard to tell with his deeply tanned skin, but I thought Nor went a little pink. “I wasn’t really planning to fly anyway,” he said.

“No one caught your eye?” I asked. There was a long pause. “Nor?”

“Not as such,” he said. “I mean… Sort of.”

“And you’ve been spending all your time trying to look after me instead of enjoying the festival with her,” I said. “You know, I don’t need you to hover around me. You don’t need to feel guilty if anything happens to me. I’ve known I’m probably not going to live that long.”

Nor’s expression twisted a little bit. “I’ve been trying to fix that. I think I’ve got a concoction right. If you take it daily, it should help you-”

“Okay, okay,” I said. “Hey. You don’t need to spend all your time on me, you know? You can have a life. You’re not responsible for me.”

“It’s not about that,” Nor said. “I wasn’t worried about you. Well, not just that. I…” He stopped for a moment. “I wanted to spend time with you.”

Oh. That created a runny sensation in my chest, like my heart flipped over. “You wanted to-”

“Don’t be that surprised. I haven’t really been subtle about it,” Nor said. “Yes. I like being around you. Why did you think I kept inviting you to do stuff with me and stayed with you instead of going to the festival?”

“I thought you just wanted to make sure I wasn’t going to suffocate in your absence,” I said.

“A little bit. But mostly because I like you,” he said. He peered into my face, a tentative smile on his lips. “You don’t seem upset?”

“I’m not,” I said. “I’m pleased, actually.”

“Really?” Nor’s face was quite close to mine. His lips were parted. I could feel the soft warmth of his breath.

“Really.” Our lips were quite close to touching. Just before making contact, Nor seemed to stall, hesitation overcoming desire. I smiled and leaned in, pressing our lips together in a gentle moment of contact.

Neither of us had much experience kissing, so it was a bit clumsy and we clacked teeth more than once. Still, when we broke apart, I felt breathless in the most positive way I’d ever experienced.

“We should go back,” Nor said, still staring at me. “I… I think I want to participate in the ceremony after all.”

I smiled. “I’ll be watching.”

[shewhowillnotbenamed1]

Ours

Extremely late and I’m EXTREMELY sorry!😭 @bluboothalassophile happy belated EVERYTHING! And just thank you so much for being the incredible friend that you are!!!! 🥰You know what this is 😏and I hope you enjoy because this is the first of three parts. Three just seemed to fit... I had a ton of fun writing it and hopefully it’s not rubbish.

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It took time and patience with an unpracticed key guided by an unsteady grip. A petite, pale girl caught her lip between her teeth, a tiny grunt escaping as she finagled with the door.

"Raven, is that you?"

But she was starting to get used to this.

There was a concluding click as the key's metal ridge caught the groove in the last lock of the six panel apartment door. When it opened, in wandered a wearied Raven Roth.

And Raven would have liked to think she wandered in gracefully, but she knew she was dragging. It was impossible not to while wearing shoes so abhorrently impractical they should have been illegal. So violent was the aching in her heels, that by the final stretch of half-block, they were nearly numbed. Gods and her back—it was practically killing her.

If she was being honest, Raven felt like something one of those city sweeping trucks scraped off the sidewalk at four-thirty in the morning. One could only hope she didn't look like it.

"Roy," Raven winced, eyelids squeezing shut as she spoke. "I'm alive—but barely."

"Jay?" Roy called out from somewhere in the foreground. "Where are you?"

As expected a low, disembodied grunt ushered out in lieu of a response.

"Didn't you hear—Raven's back!"

The door slid closed and a gust of air entered the foyer behind her, carrying with it the heady notes of brown sugar, nutmeg, and melted butter. And like a Pavlovian response, she forgot the discomfort and led herself up by the nose. Spine straightening, legs lifting, then posture rising. It was like her whole being had been revitalized in an instant. Who knew the promise of a home-cooked meal could do that? A wistful smile steered into her face as Raven thought about how evenings after work used to transpire.

Weeks ago, one foot in the door usually meant bra optional. And flattening into a decompression on the couch was a non-negotiable.

Needless to say, a welcome like this one would never not catch her off guard.

"Something smells like you've outdone yourself again," Raven spoke loudly over the faint sounds of sizzling, curiously craning her neck and sniffing the air distractedly.

And then Roy appeared. He was peering out into the foyer, red hair bleeding out against the backdrop of a white walled interior. "Dinner will be ready soon," he supplied and beamed at her. The brightness faded in increments as his deep pine eyes floated downward and he took what she was holding.

"Again?"

"Yep." Raven gave a single solemn nod and Roy let out a dramatic sigh.

"But it's Friday. Those bastards..." he muttered in disbelief and Raven smirked. Suddenly, he inclined his head toward the other room and inhaled suspiciously. "Do you...smell that?" Roy went rigid in realization. "It smells like I forgot the flip."

"It smells like...that one's Jason's," Raven corrected.

Red eyebrows raised, clearly impressed. "Right." He marched back briskly toward the kitchen, only pausing to point at the heavy bag full of file folders teetering on her shoulder. "You'll have to tell me and Jaybird all about...that."

"Yes, please." Raven let out a huff, lower lip quivering. "You're an angel..." Roy winked at the pout topped by pleading purple and disappeared.

"The irony," a low drawl called from just around the corner. "Are you always such a sight for sore eyes?"

It was Jason walking over with arms out as wide as his grin. Even without the sarcasm, his aura and footsteps were distinct—a dead giveaway. They were oddly as heavy as they were silent.

"Whoa…" he looked as concerned as Roy had moments ago. "Or are you just sore?" Strong, steady hands removed her bag from her shoulder. "That's better." Raven rolled her stiff arm muscles.

It was a relief, to hand off her burden for a moment, to no longer be dragged down by the weight of her work—and the world.

"How was our day?" he pressed like a man who knew the answer.

"Rough—and long..."

Quickly Jason knelt down, hand reaching out for her calf. "I've got you, Princess." And Raven placed a balancing hand on his shoulder while he undid her shoes, a grateful half-smile stitching across her face.

"Come, come."

He took her hand, twirling her around past the living room to deposit her right onto a stool next to the island. "Sit. Harper's making crepes." Jason pulled her stool close and spun it around, so he was faced with the back of her.

"Take it from me, they'll help with the tension. Of course... I also believe in a hands-on approach." Jason then cracked his knuckles—mostly for effect, because boy did he know what he was doing. His hands slid up her arms, to her shoulders and worked them over, then dug into the surrounding muscles with his fingers and kneaded hard with his thumbs.

"Mmm..." Raven's tension began to ebb and wane. "Well, that helps a little..." Jason turned up the pressure a few more degrees while his breath grew heated on her neck.

Aroma clouds were wafting around their heads, while Roy flipped another crepe in slow motion. And in an instant, Raven was transported to some sort variant of a Jason and Roy spa she didn't know she needed.

"Okay, that helps a lot." And she moaned in spite of herself. All her stress was melting away, turning into liquid and evaporating off of her, faster than the French butter Roy was melting on the stove. He tilted the bright red crepe pan in all directions, getting an even gloss of sweet, golden goodness in every crevice. And Jason's hands continued to manipulate each one of hers, until all the tightness in her upper body unknotted itself.

"Hmm, where else—where else? Ah." Jason's rough hands took hold of the chevron patterned lace covering her ankles and he began to massage away. "Did I tell you, how much I like these stockings?"

Raven seemed not to hear him. "Harder," she whispered. His knuckle pounded gently down her arches, then ground fixedly into her heel and, painstakingly along the sides. By the time he took her other foot into his lap, she was practically cooing. "Did I tell you how good you are at that?" The tip of Jason's tongue edged over the corner of his smile.

Gods.

"That really is a shame..." he said and Raven lifted her head towards him in question. "About your day? How rough and hard it was..." His hand was lowering, slowing, but lingering. "Normally when you put those two adjectives together... It could be a good thing."

"Okay...!" Roy had come over suddenly with his spatula proffering a piece of crepe, still steaming hot from the pan. "I'm testing something out tonight, so I've added a special ingredient to this batch."

"Oh good. Raven did have one of those days. She could use some..." Jason pantomimed a flippant gesture. It could have been taking a long drag or it could have been—

"Not that kind... A different kind of special..." Roy shot Jason and Raven a long once over. Something in the way he said special made the air around them begin to bristle with titillation, anticipation. "A few drops of...lavender extract..." His voice dropped another octave. And he began to blow on the bite while Raven and Jason watched his full lips. It seemed cooling the steam from the crepe had an opposite and equal reaction. As if each breath was fanning the flames rising between them, like a bellow into charred embers in the hearth of a fireplace.

"Let me know what you think of it." Gently, he fed her piece from his fingers and Jason leaned his face close to hers, like he was attempting to steal it straight from her lips. Just before the point of contact, Roy clicked his tongue playfully.

Almost like he was calling him off.

"If you want some you'll have to wait." Dazedly, Raven blinked at Roy. He shook his head of chin length crimson hair, half of it was up in a bun with the rest hanging in his face. "I'll be back with the rest." Teasingly, Roy waved the spatula like a stake to ward off his dark-haired, undead roommate.

"Jason..." The brunette inched nearer to her at the sound of his name. She kicked his stool with her foot so it swiveled further away. Ultimately, it only caused him to move even closer. "Aren't we in rare form tonight?" she sighed.

"Don't know what you're talking about," Jason insisted bemusedly, doing his best to appear impassive. "I'm always like this." He examined her wrist with his forefinger and thumb. "As for you... That office of yours must be working you damn near to the bone. Did you somehow manage to get tinier, Raven?" The left corner of his lips curled up.

She tore it away and glared at him, aghast. "Insufferable, patronizing," Raven muttered under her breath, nursing her wounded forearm. "Ass."

"But this ass speaks the truth," he raised an eyebrow loftily. "If you would just join our firm..."

"Your firm?" Purple orbs narrowed to slits. "Just because you guys are mercenaries for hire—"

"Mmm... We really prefer the term 'vigilantes,'" Jason punctuated with air quotes. "Actually, from a branding perspective, it's Heroes for Hire™—Roy's got a whole...thing..."

"Whatever you're calling your 'backwoods operation'." Raven's air quotes didn't disguise the disdain in her voice. "The point is, I like my non-profit just fine... And I am not tiny."

"Alriiight." Roy arrived with a huge ceramic serving dish full of crepes with powdered sugar dusted on top. "Eat them while they're hot. Raven..." He slid a plate over to her. "Eat up."

"I thought I would always get the first bite," Jason teased. Then quickly lunged forward, stopping short of Roy's smirk, hip cocked toward his. "What've you got for me, Harps?"

On a delay, the redhead drew back, as if he just remembered Raven was in the room. "Don't be greedy, Jay," he said at last.

The ebony haired man, raised an eyebrow, but began to unload fresh food onto his plate. Once every inch of real estate was covered in crepe, Jason started to attack with his fork.

"So, when have I ever been greedy?"

Was that besides the fact that his plate was loaded up with most of the food the archer had just cooked? And besides the fact that he hadn't really helped?

But then... neither had Raven. Unless licking the batter and 'testing out' a crepe or two counted.

"Well, Raven's barely eaten a crepe and you're drifting into seconds. Where's your hospitality? Shouldn't you share with our guest?"

"I can be hospitable..." He chuckled. "I'd rather just...share our guest."

Roy shot him a warning glare on his way back to the stove. Jason shrugged before closing in another crepe and filling his mouth with another forkful.

"You're amazing," Raven deadpanned.

"Aren't I? But I've got nothing on the food. I have to say, this is the best batch by far," he announced. "Roy, do you have any more of those blueberries you got from the farmer's market over the weekend?" Jason started to smirk at Raven. "Or strawberries? I know how much you enjoy them."

"Try the table," Roy yelled over his shoulder, mild irritation edged in his tone.

"Well..." Raven shrugged, her expression coy as she reached over for the blue container. "They are in season..." There were few things that could enhance Roy's crepes, except fresh berries. Raven puffed out her cheeks as she rifled through an almost empty berry basket. "And... there are only three left... You sure helped yourself," she accused heavily under her breath.

"I didn't see your name on them," Jason returned. "So it was fair game, like anything else in this apartment."

Raven folded her arms. "I thought Roy got them for me, didn't you Roy?" He glanced up at her as he moved around the open kitchen.

"Sorry, we're low, Rae," Roy said regrettably. "I should have picked up more. You'd think after a couple weeks, I wouldn't still be acclimating to having an additional mouth to feed. What can I say?"

"Yes, we're very sorry." Jason pinched her stocking-clad leg, eliciting a gasp.

Raven cut knife-sharp purple eyes at him before the redhead came around to her stool. Roy wiped a hand across the words Banging Redheads & Banging Brunches printed in a large black font on the apron.

Probably a Christmas gift.

And one for which Jason must have been responsible.

He ruffled the purple strands at Raven's crown with his spatula free hand. "I hope that's okay."

"Don't be ridiculous." She brushed the strings fastening the charcoal colored apron and tugged. "Now go take that off and come eat with us." Roy planted a kiss on the top of her head, and shuffled out of the kitchen.

"Hmm...I guess I could have blueberries..." Raven mused. "Now that I think about it, they'd really compliment the lavender. I don't know that strawberries would in the same way."

"Do you know that for a fact?" Jason took a small sip from his cup, eyes trained on her through the glass. "Or have you ever considered...both?"

With a startling scowl, Raven looked up from the melted whipped cream atop the remaining crepes on the granite counter. "Have you ever considered why I like Roy more?" She retorted. "It's this."

"Really?" And Raven pushed his stupidly handsome, smirking face away from her own. "Little bird, don't tease," Jason moaned, dragging out the last syllable. "I promise to be good, I'll share—I certainly don't mind sharing with Roy." She rolled her eyes, popping a blueberry in her mouth and chewing thoughtfully.

Jason was mostly euphemism on a good day, but this was different. He'd been dropping these odd hints all week. But Raven told herself it was another unexpected caveat about living here. She didn't think she should breach the subject or even read too much into them.

After all, she was only crashing with Jason and Roy for a little while longer.

This was purely temporary, until the super in her building got around to fixing the circulation unit in her water closet of a studio. Or that was what she told herself at first. She was quickly growing accustomed to the perks of living with them.

Being spoiled was... Well, it was nothing short of wonderful.

Gone were the days of scrounging up sad boxes of cereal for breakfast, schlepping together leftover takeout for lunch, or unearthing bags of nearly expired popcorn for dinner. Roy and Jason worked out a ton and ensured their fridge was always stocked. Even on the off-chance that it rained and the farmer's market wasn't open in the park so they could do locally-sourced organic.

That, and they could actually cook.

At a moment's notice, Roy could whip up an amazing French toast, or a hearty stew. If they were feeling wild he'd make them breakfast for dinner or vice versa. Even Jason's most experimental chili recipe could be redeemed by a few generous grates of cheese or a dollop of sour cream.

And clearly business was great, because their apartment was fantastic. It was spacious, but had all these homey touches, like a handcrafted breakfast nook Roy and Jason built together.

But tangible things aside, Raven found she actually didn't mind the company. So gone were the days of being alone.

The moments where he wasn't an insufferable tease, Jason loved attending their two person book-club. They talked books, trashy to classic and everything in between, often punctuated by an impromptu neck or foot rub.

When Roy wasn't working out, planning a job, or doling out heaps of domesticity onto her and Jason, he was a hopeless romantic. He reinvigorated Raven's secret love of rom-coms. But he also liked to learn from her. So he played chess, scrabble, even backgammon, and once in a while they were able to rope in Jason for monopoly. Roy was a very graceful loser at board games, but he was amazing when he got his hands around a deck of cards. And Raven was finding, she had a lot to learn from him.

But Raven's favorite nights were the ones where they could all just be. Listening to something old or indie in the background and talking until the three of them simply passed out.

The apartment just felt full—of fun, of food, of friends. Of laughter and love.

It was a wonderful life, but it was a shame it wasn't her life. Raven was a realist, she knew she'd have to go back.

But for now, she was going to enjoy every single second of it.

[sokkascroptop]

traitor. (sokka x f!reader) pt 11

part 1 | part 10 | part 12

A/N: I’m over here like, “how to write Sokka and Y/N simping over each other, but like lightly simping?” Also, I guess we learn some more about Y/N family? 

Y/N thought back to when she learned how to use a sword. She was young when her father told her she needed to choose something to master. If she couldn’t train to be a firebender, she was going to train to be something. She’d picked the sword because she’d seen him practice with her two older brothers in their courtyard, and spirits, she just wanted to make him proud for once. She worked nonstop and became the best she could be because there was no margin for error. Failure wouldn’t be tolerated.

“And this is supposed to train me how?!” Sokka asked. His arm dropped six inches. Y/N lifted it back up so it was even with his shoulder and straightened out his elbow more. 

“Holding my sword out straight for hours will not only show me that you have the dedication to learn but it will also help you build up strength.” 

“Hours,” he echoed. 

“Look, if you don’t want to do this, that’s fine!” Y/N started to walk away. 

Sokka grabbed her shoulder and spun her back around. “I’ll do it. I’m not happy about it. But I’ll do it.”

Sokka widened his stance and looked out over the water as he settled in. Y/N joined Toph in leaning up against the railing. “Is this really something that your teachers made you do?”

Y/N thought back to when she learned how to use a sword. She was young when her father told her she needed to choose something to master. If she couldn’t train to be a firebender, she was going to train to be something. She’d picked the sword because she’d seen him practice with her two older brothers in their courtyard, and spirits, she just wanted to make him proud for once. She worked nonstop and became the best she could be because there was no margin for error. Failure wouldn’t be tolerated.

“The sword was much lighter but yes, Father said it was essential that I show my commitment.”

“Sounds like a nice guy.” Y/N didn’t miss the sarcasm in Toph’s tone. She also couldn’t refute it. He wasn’t a nice guy, and he was a worse father. 

---

Half an hour and Sokka’s arm was shaking, Y/N could see it from across the deck. 

“Tired yet?” she asked. Even though it was still morning, the sun was blazing. A drop of sweat dripped down his face and the tip of the sword dipped before he corrected it. “Nope,” he grunted. “Just peachy.”

“Sure. Let me know when you’re done?”

“What?!” the sword dipped again. “I thought you were the one telling me how long I was doing this.”

“I never said that.”

“But… that’s what you meant right?”

Y/N shrugged. And Sokka didn’t move. 

“How long has he been at it?” Katara asked as she sat down next to Toph and Y/N. She handed them each a bowl of rice and smoked fish. 

“Three hours,” Toph said around a bite of fish. Katara’s eyes widened in disbelief. “And whenever Y/N goes to check on him, his heart races like he’s afraid she’s going to make him do something else ridiculous.”

“Hey!” Y/N protested. “It’s not ridiculous. He’s training.” Even Y/N couldn’t keep a straight face while saying it. She hopped to her feet and approached Sokka. 

“There it goes again!” Toph yelled.

Y/N ignored her. “You hungry?” she asked Sokka. 

Sokka’s arm seemed to tremble a bit more. He forced a stoic look across his face. “Nope.”

“Are you sure?” Y/N asked. She picked up a piece of fish with her chopsticks and held it out. “If you’re so adamant about holding the sword, I can feed you lunch, if you want.” 

An expression that Y/N didn’t recognize crossed his face and for a moment she thought he was actually going to say yes. But then he looked over her shoulder. “I’m good.” His voice was strained. 

“Oh, for spirits sake, Sokka put the sword down and come eat!” Katara called from where she was sitting. 

Sokka looked back to Y/N, his bright blue eyes drilled into her own. She held his gaze longer than necessary, because this was more fun than she had anticipated. And then Y/N realized what was happening. He was waiting for her to say something. Her stomach flip-flopped.

“Put down the sword,” She murmured. 

She flinched when the blade clattered to the deck and her reverie broke. Sokka’s arm hung limply at his side and he collapsed on one knee. “Tui and La, that was the worst thing I’ve ever done!” He fell sideways on the deck and rolled onto his back. “My arm is numb. I can’t feel it. Is that normal?”

Y/N picked up her sword and examined the edge for nicks. “Sure.” 

He leaned up and snatched the bowl of food from Y/N’s hands. 

“Hey!”

Sokka balanced the bowl on his stomach and shoved the biggest piece of fish in his mouth. “I desermph it!”

“You didn’t have to hold it that long!” Y/N exclaimed. “I told you, you could stop anytime you wanted to!” 

“I thought you were joking!” he shouted back. 

Y/N turned back to the girls. “Is he always this dramatic?” She asked.

“All the time.”

“Always.”

“I am not dramatic!”

---

“No. Do that move again. Your shoulder is flying open too far. You’re leaving yourself vulnerable.” Y/N poked Sokka in the stomach to prove her point. 

Sokka did, lunging forward with his sword but keeping his shoulders turned inward. He looked towards Y/N for any critique. 

She leaned back on the rail with her arms crossed. “Much better.”

Sokka grinned. “Can we spar now?” He was always tired of just practicing new moves. He wanted action. 

Y/N unsheathed her sword. “If we’re careful. Katara nearly killed me when I cut your arm last week.”

They’d been at sea for a few weeks now. Sokka and Y/N practiced every morning and every evening on the deck of the Fire Nation ship. There wasn’t much else for them to do but spar which meant that Sokka was learning a lot, and learning it fast. Only last week had she started letting them use real swords though; Sokka had taken a Jian sword similar to Y/N’s from the ship’s armory. In the weeks before, they had just used broken broom handles to make sure no one got hurt. After days of splintered hands and bruises all over from the “beatings” he said Y/N gave him, Sokka begged to use swords. With great reluctance she’d said yes, as long as he made sure he listened to her. It was an extra precaution for Y/N too, she was worried that if something happened to Sokka, they’d throw her overboard. 

“Arm up, yes!” Sokka parried as Y/N thrusted her sword. She ducked under his sword and landed a punch to his side. “Gotta be faster though!”

She quickly backed away smiling as he caught his breath. “Was that necessary?” He asked with his hands on his knees. 

“Absolutely. How else will you learn?”

Y/N waited a beat before she threw an overhand cut that Sokka blocked, reflexively. He swept at her in a long arc that she knocked away easily. They danced in a few lazy circles, blocking and striking before Sokka got bored. He moved to disarm Y/N, twisting the flat of his blade under her wrist. And lucky for him, she didn’t expect it and the pressure caused her to drop it. He let the point of his sword fall just beneath her chin. 

Sokka’s eyes widened. “I won!” 

Y/N pressed the flat of his blade between her two palms, moving it away from her face and kicking him in the wrist. The sword dropped from his hand as he sucked in a sharp breath. She swung the blade up and caught it by the hilt. She dragged her leg behind his and shoved him to the ground. He fell hard on his back and she pressed a knee to his chest. 

“What did I say about being cocky?”

“It gets you killed,” Sokka grumbled.  

“It looks like you lost!” Bato shouted from where he and Hakoda watched from across the deck. Hakoda laughed loudly and then said something unintelligible that sent them both into fits of laughter. 

She moved off of Sokka’s chest and helped pull him to his feet. She held the hilt of his sword out to him and retrieved her own from the deck. “Again?”

“Will you please let me win one so my dad and Bato will stop making fun of me?”

Y/N looked over at the two men, who were just getting over their fit of giggles. Momo was perched on the chief’s shoulder and Hakoda reached up to pet his head.

She smiled at Sokka softly, he grinned back. 

“No.”

Sokka’s face fell. “Oh come on!”

---

Y/N leaned her back up against the railing of the ship as she watched Sokka put his Fire Nation armor back on. She bit back a laugh as he slid his helmet on over a fresh bruise on his forehead. He caught her anyways. 

“Yeah, thanks for that!” He kicked the bottom of her boot. 

“Sokka, I told you I was sorry! If you’re in a high bind like we were you need to expect that the other person is going to hit you with the hilt to knock you down.”

“It hurt.”

Y/N nodded. “Yeah, I know it does. And I’ve had much bigger people do it to me so you should be happy.”

Sokka sat next to her and tapped her foot with his. “Thanks for teaching me.” He said that a lot. Y/N was pretty sure there wasn’t a day that went by when he didn’t say it. 

His face was covered by the helmet. It made it easier to talk to him when he looked like a nameless, faceless Fire Nation soldier. “Oh you know. The price for my life,” she sighed. 

“You know that’s not how it is anymore, right?”

Y/N blinked up at the sky and fiddled with the clasp to her Fire Nation cape around her neck. It was dark and the air was humid. “It’s going to rain.”

After a minute, Sokka looked away from her and looked up too. 

Just then, there was a crash on the deck. Sokka and Y/N both jumped to their feet and went running towards the sound. 

“Twinkle-Toes, that’s got to be you!” Toph exclaimed. They all created a semi-circle around the airbender, who stood hunched over with Momo on his back. The lemur was furiously licking the side of his face. Y/N was surprised to see the Avatar's head covered in dark brown hair.

“Aang, you’re awake!” Katara moved to embrace him in a hug. 

“Are you sure?” he asked. “I feel like I’m dreaming.”

“You’re not dreaming! You’re finally awake.” She promised. 

Sokka brushed past Y/N to hug him as well. “Aang, good to see you back with the living buddy.”

“Sokka?” Aang muttered. And then he fainted.

---

After making sure Aang woke up okay on the deck, Sokka nudged Y/N and walked her back to her room for the night. 

“So, he’s awake.” Sokka said. Y/N didn’t meet his eyes; just looked back down the hallway to the staircase that would take you above deck. “I’m sure Katara will tell him everything. Nothing to worry about.” Then he did something unexpected. He placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed. “Don’t worry about it,” He repeated. 

Y/N shook her head, at a loss for words. Sokka had never initiated contact with her when they weren’t sparring. In fact, he actively avoided it. 

“Training tomorrow, before breakfast?” he asked. 

“Yeah.” And then he was gone. Back down the hallway to his room. 

Y/N closed her door and leaned up against it. She was worried. And somehow Sokka had figured out exactly what she was anxious over. Being on the ship with Aang unconscious was one thing. They had nothing better to do other than stay and let him heal there. But now that he was awake, he, Toph, Katara and Sokka were going to complete their mission to save the world and there was no place for Y/N in that story. Her point of leaving was never to join the Avatar’s mission, that just happened to be a side to the same story. 

And she was sure the others didn’t want her to join either. It didn’t matter how nice they were to her, or how friendly her and Sokka had gotten over the last few weeks; she was still Fire Nation. And she wasn’t one of them.

A knock at the door startled Y/N. “Come in.”

---

A/N: I think this might just be my first official cliffhanger!! We got some fightin’, some Sokka, we even got our Boy Aang back!! The next part will be a little short, but very important for Sokka and Y/N’s development. 

Taglist: @myexgirlfriendisthemoon​ @reclusive-chicken-nugget​@astroninaaa​ @aangsupremacy​ @beifongsss​ @crownofcryptids @welovediaaxx​ @littlefluu​ @lozzybowe​ @thebluelcdy​ @ohjustlookalive @sugarmoongey​ @fanficdepot​ @teenbiology​ @13-09-01​ @riespage​ @davnwillcome​ @naanlianid​ @creation-magician​ @lunariasilver​ @vintagerose1014516 @bcifcng​ @rockinearthbending-marauders​ @francesciak​ @thia-aep​ @aphrcditeee​ @milk-n-cheese​

[sweet-taiyaki]

His Sunflower (part 2) 🌻

Disclaimer: I didn’t really know where to go with part 2, but I hope you like it. And yes, there will be a third and final part.  

Pairing: ProHero!Eijiro Kirishima x Fem!Reader (she/her)

Featuring: Katsuki Bakugo (Ground Zero), Denki Kaminari, Hanta Sero

Word Count: 3k

Synopsis: You saw Red Riot and Ground Zero live in action, but when you saw Ground Zero’s internal clock diminish, you got worried and wanted to save him. Kirishima admired your selflessness. 

Quirk: Life Vision. Can view anyone’s internal clock by their wrist.

Warnings: Violence, some language, mentions of blood, little fluff

Taglist: @ chaeringpop

part 1 [2] 3

-----------------------------------------------------------

I bowed to my superior and ended my shift. Sushi making is really starting to take a toll on my hands. I grab my coat and leave the restaurant.

“There you are,” Kirishima said, “How was your shift?”

“It was okay. You know you don’t have to walk me home every day. I can defeat villains like you with my eyes closed,” I said punching him.

“Alright, alright. Ow--that’s enough. You’ve just been so kind to me and I feel so manly around you,” he said.

“So I’m weak,” I joked.

“No—uh---no, not at all. I didn’t mean for you to perceive it that way. You’re strong and full of light like a sunflower!” he apologized.

“You’re cheesy,” I laughed.

“Come here, I wanted a (Y/N) hug all day,” he said with his arms open. He pulled away briefly to give me a soft peck. His kisses were so sweet and soft. I smiled as soon as he pulled away and he smiled back.

There were explosions and screams at a distance. Kirishima looks at me. “I have to go, but don’t worry I’ll be at your place after,” he said running in the opposite direction. I’ve never seen Red Riot and Ground Zero in live action before. He disappeared before I ran closer to the scene.

Kirishima charged at the villain with a punch. “It’s about time you showed up, shitty hair,” Bakugo barked. “You should have called me instead of taking on villains yourself,” Kirishima yelled back.

“HOWITZER IMPACT!” Ground Zero flew through the air sending an explosion tornado to the villain. The villain seems to create portals to escape their attacks. “Where is he? Die, portal man!” He appears near Red Riot.

“RED GAUNTLET!” Kirishima punches him into the brick wall that sent him flying. He transports again, over Ground Zero. Portal smashed Ground Zero into the ground. When Ground Zero tried to attack, Portal created an infinite portal to cause Bakugo to explode himself.

“Ground Zero,” I cried. Kirishima heard me and got distracted as Portal punched him, but his hardening anticipated the punch and punched him back. “(Y/N), get out of here! It’s not safe,” he yelled.

“Ground Zero’s clock,” I yelled. I escaped the police tape to rescue him. I was hovering over Ground Zero, looking at his wrist. His pulse is stable, but his internal clock was slowing dropping faster than normal. Kirishima was still battling the villain when I was aiding to Ground Zero. The villain noticed and engulfed me in his portal. “No!” Kirishima yelled. I fell through the portal and he closed it before Kirishima jumped.

Your POV

I was surrounded in a zero-gravity space in complete darkness. A purple ring opening came out. I floated over, hoping to escape, but it was a turn for the worst. I was in Portal’s lair. There were portals everywhere around the world that he could pop in at. Portal came into his lair. “You,” he pointed at me, “You’re under my control.” I struggled to get loose of his grip, but it only made him grab me more. He strained me and gagged me. “You wanna-be heroes always ruin all the fun. I just wanted to see some pros die, but no you had to come in out of nowhere to save them. They can cover themselves, kid. They are pros and people like you are just pawns that can easily die. I have some inventions. How do you prefer to die? Combat robots? Lethal injection? Or a slow painful death with my portals that take you limb by limb?” My eyes widen at his inventions.

Third Person View

Meanwhile, Bakugo is in the hospital. Kirishima is in the chair next to him. “Hey man, how are you feeling,” Kirishima saw his eyes flutter. “I’m fine. Did we get him,” he coughed. Kirishima shook his head in anger.

“No, and he took (Y/N),” he said with his head low.

“What,” Bakugo sat up, “He’s gonna die for sure. Let’s get him,” Bakugo said pulling his IVs out.

“Bakugo, you need to recover,” Kirishima warned.

“No, Kirishima. You didn’t hesitate to save me when the League of Villains took me. Not only is she a civilian, but she means a lot to you and makes you happy, which is why I’m gonna kill him. So, you coming with me or not,” Bakugo yelled.

“I have your back, let’s go,” Kirishima said confidently. They both ran out of the hospital.

Your POV

I have deep cuts on my legs and arms. My blood is starting to seep on the concrete. Portal creates another portal with a knife so I cannot anticipate where he would stab me. “If you tense up, it will only make it worse,” he said. I look down at my wrist and my clock is dramatically going lower. I take a stab to my hip. I cry out in pain and undo my gag restraint. “You won’t win. I will never give up and I’ll fight for my life before I surrender to you,” I yelled.

Portal got close to my face. “Wanna-be heroes don’t live,” he created a portal to my back. He pokes me with his knife where my heart is. “Where are the pros now? Do you think they really care for a civilian like you? Your quirk is useless, might as well be quirkless. However, I have a syringe that can make you powerful. You can have an amazing quirk and fight the wanna-be heroes with me and take on the pros,” he said.

“Never,” I replied.

“Suit yourself,” he said. He then took a stab to my shoulder and twisted it before he pulled it out. Immediately after, there was an explosion.

“Die, Portal,” Ground Zero and Red Riot came into his lair. “Oh look, it’s bomb guy and rocky,” Portal says, “You didn’t merely come to save this woman, did you? I believe the job is already done.” Kirishima looks over to me and saw the blood dripping rapidly. “You will pay for what you did to her,” Kirishima yelled angrily. Ground Zero blasted himself in the air and charged at Portal. “AP SHOT!” His concentrated blast impaired Portal sending him into his combat robots. This inspired him to activate his robots. The robots turned on and charged towards Red Riot and Ground Zero.

The robots were kinda juvenile considering that they were prototypes, but it tired Red Riot and Ground Zero. Once the robots were defeated, Red Riot turned to Portal. “Now it’s your turn,” he said determined. Portal extended his portals to go behind Ground Zero. He pulled a blast right before Portal went through. “Red Riot!” Bakugo yelled. “RED RIOT UNBREAKABLE!” Red Riot slammed Portal into the ground Ground Zero also charged his blast at the ground for a double hit causing a lot of wind to even burst through the ceiling. Portal was paralyzed and knocked out. Kirishima undid my restraints and held me in his arms. “I’m sorry, (Y/N). I should have came sooner,” he said tearing up. Police and emergency sirens filled the air. I lightly cupped his face as I saw the light surround his face. “Eijiro, you’re my sunflower,” I said faintly. His eyes watered even harder and kissed me softly. “Get her to a hospital, now. She’s bleeding out,” Bakugo told the emergency services. Kirishima helped me on to the stretcher. He wanted to come with, but he was pushed away before I was taken away.

I woke up in the hospital with Kirishima over me. “You’re okay,” I said faintly. “I’m glad you’re okay,” Kirishima laughed holding my hand. Bakugo was in the doorway. Some nurses were flirting with him, until he saw me sit up. “How are you feeling, broad,” Bakugo said. “I should heal quickly. Just sore,” I smiled, “Thank you for---”

“No,” Bakugo interrupted, “Not only have you saved Kirishima’s life, but you have also saved mine as well with your clock quirk. Kirishima told recovery girl that you said my internal clock was narrowing. She found the internal bleeding quickly and stopped it before it got serious. Just--just leave the hero work to the pros, you got that,” his voice changed. He left, but smiled on his way out.

“He’s always explosive, but I think he likes you,” Kirishima laughed. I smiled. He pulled out some taiyakis for us to share. “Here, I know you like these,” he smiled.

“Do you think my quirk is useless,” I paused.

“No, why would you think that,” he said.

“Portal said I would be better off quirkless unless I join him. He said I could have a better quirk if I was a villain,” I said.

“He’s trying to mess with your head. Don’t believe anything he said to you,” he said. He climbed up next to me in the hospital bed and put his arm around me. “I don’t know if I can do this, but I’m willing to get yelled at just so I can be next to you. I’m glad you’re safe.”

“You’re my hero,” I said softly into his chest. He overheard me and looked down as I was dosing off in his chest. He laid his head on top of mine and kissed my forehead. “You missed,” I said half asleep. He cups my face and gives me a soft, sweet kiss. I couldn’t help but melt in his touch.

The next morning, I wake up with Kirishima lightly snoring. I kiss him to wake him up. “Good morning, babe. I didn’t realize that I stayed all night with you, but I’m glad I did,” he said hugging me, “You want some breakfast?”

“No, thanks. I need to make you breakfast one day,” I said.

“Is it sushi,” he joked. I hit his arm playfully. “Well I gotta go hit the gym with Bakugo, you sure you don’t need anything?”

“I’m good. I’ll let you know if I do,” I smiled. He winked at me before he left.

I was discharged from the hospital and landed back in my apartment. I was greeted by my cat. I cleaned her litter box, fed her, and gave her fresh water. “I’m sorry I was away, girly,” I said to her.

..................................................................................................

I return to another exhausting day at the sushi bar. My coworkers were concerned for me that I was bombarded with questions. ‘Are you alright?’ ‘How did it feel to be captured by a villain?’ ‘I bet you were so scared!’ I skated past the crowd to clock in. After this whole year of working here and now my coworkers actually want to get to know me since I was attacked by a villain.

I went through my shift, but then a familiar face walked in. “Bakugo,” I whispered. “How can I help—”

“Cut the crap,” he barked, “Why didn’t you tell us you were a pro-hero?”

The room stood still as everyone looked over to me. I pulled him aside to divide the attention, but then he dragged me out to the alleyway to find Kirishima. “(Y/N), are you a pro-hero,” Kirishima asked.

“Yes. In America, yes. I was instructed not to use my powers and license out of the States.”

“You think you’re better than me,” Bakugo yelled, “We need to battle, right here, right now, clock lady!” Kirishima held Bakugo back and slowly approached me. “Why would you keep that secret from me,” he said.

“I wanted to be normal. And I thought the best way to do it was to leave home and start new. But once I saw you dying, I knew I had to break boundaries. Please forgive me,” I said holding my face in my hands and collapsed to the ground.

Kirishima helped me back up and gave me a warm hug. “Your bravery is so manly,” he said. Bakugo was confused. “I’m still number one in the world, you got that,” he screamed. A couple of men passed the alleyway and saw Bakugo and Kirishima. “Hey guys, I know you,” a voice said coming towards them. Kirishima put me against the brick wall to say hi. I let them catch up as I slowly went back home.

“Bakugo! Kirishima! It’s been a while,” Kaminari and Sero said.

“What’s up, losers,” Bakugo bro hugged both of them.

“Sero! Kaminari! So good to see you,” Kirishima said.

“Yeah, bro. Great job with the Portal dude. He was a difficult villain. And looks like you’re still talking to the broad? I’m assuming was the girl you were with,” Kaminari pointed.

“Yeah, she’s—where did she go,” Kirishima concerned.

“Apparently, she is a pro in the states, but wasn’t allowed to use her power or license outside her home. My agency secretary researched her. She trained in jujitsu training along with her life vision. Not only does she save people, but she can also fight, which is why I have to battle her,” Bakugo barked.

“Classic Bakugo,” Sero said, “Hey, let’s have sushi together and catch up!” Kaminari, Sero, and Bakugo followed into the restaurant. Kirishima stood behind looking into the distance to see if he could find (Y/N), then followed his friends.

I was in my apartment doing some chores, talking to the cat, then I looked over to my sword. My hero sword had a white glow to it. The glow would only ignite with my quirk when I was in battle at full strength. Should I go back to the states or should I get my hero license here? There was a knock at my door.

“Kirishima,” I said opening the door.

“Hey, mind if I come in,” he asked. There was a silence between us. I offered some tea, he accepted. “I’m not mad at you,” he began, “You had to hold back because you were told to, but you had the bravery to help me and Bakugo defeat the villains. I admire your heart. You’re selfless, kind, and will come to anyone’s aid with your quirk. I just want to see you battle,” he hardened his arms.

“Wh—what?” I said.

“Don’t hold back. I’m pretty resilient,” he said. I aimed for his weak points in his body, specifically his legs to disorient him. I tried to go easy on him at first, but he noticed I was going for his weak points. So I stepped up a little. I created a distraction, grabbed him by the arm and pulled him through, attempting to break his arm. Next, the abdomen. There is a weak point in the abdomen near the leg. It is an artery that is crucial for blood flow to your legs as well as the inguinal canal, which is larger in men to hurt more. I hit that area and he flinched, but it wasn’t enough. I held him in a chloroform hold, then he became vulnerable. He tapped out and I let go of him, both of us out of breath. He laughed as he caught his breath. “Man, you know how to fight. If only Bakugo was here to watch.”

“Why did you want him to watch,” I laughed.

“I want you to train with us at our agency so you can have a Japan hero license,” he said. My breath was taken away.

“You—you want me to stay here,” I said.

“Well other than getting to know you more, I think you would be a good addition to our team. You’re great defensively and offensively—”

“Kirishima, I have a sword,” I hesitated.

“A sword? Like a battle weapon?” he asked. I grabbed my sword in its case and asked him to follow me. I brought Kirishima to my secret hideout. “I want to make sure that I was as strong as when I left to keep up my strength, so I come here, to this cage,” I said. I enter the cage and take my sword out of the scabbard. Kirishima follows behind me. “For your safety, I suggest staying out so I can show you my potential.” He closes the cage door behind him as he watches me. I concentrate to my full strength and the sword turns into a white glow. “TIME PERCEPTION,” I scream internally. I slash through the objects around me at lightening speed. Almost as if I did it in a blink. I breathe heavy for a little bit as I put away my sword and the top halves of the objects fall.

“Whoa,” Kirishima had his jaw dropped. “That’s amazing! So your sword can slash through things at high speed?”

“Not exactly. It pokes holes in quirks. Time is very fragile and one accidental, wrong move could lead to my advantage. That’s how I defeat villains. For example, if the villain has a fire quirk, my sword can diminish the oxygen in the flames before gets worse,” I said.

“I’m recruiting you whether you like it or not,” he said. I laughed and we both went back up to my apartment.

I started making some dinner. “Whatcha making,” Kirishima said. “I was going to make a stir-fry, unless you want something different.”

“No, sounds great,” he smiled. He watched me cook the meal for the both of us. I light some candles and he set the table. We exchanged smiles when the other looked away. I presented the stir-fry with some rice, proteins, and vegetables. “Thank you for dinner, this smells amazing,” he smiled. We filled our tummies as we laughed in conversation. I cleaned off the table, sat on the countertop, and closed my eyes. “Whatcha thinking about,” he asked.

“I want to save and protect people again,” I sighed.

“You will and I’ll be right by your side,” he smiled. He got in between my legs, cupped my face, and planted a sweet, soft kiss. We smile at each other, then Kirishima got a call.

“I gotta go to the agency. I think this would be the time to show Bakugo your sword,” he smirked.

[forever-rogue]

Whiskey takes medical leave due to a bad injury during a mission. Either he has to hire someone to be an assistant while he recuperates, or his lady friend offers to stay over and help out.

I hope you enjoy ;)

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Jack,” you sighed at the man as he tried to climb out of the bed for the umpteenth time, rubbing a hand over your tired face. Taking care of him had to be as bad as taking care of a child, if not worse. He ignored as he sat on the edge of the bed and let out a long, heavy groan. You knew he hated this, hell you hated it too. It wasn’t like him to need help and he rarely accept any, usually preferring to help others.

But this time was different. This time he was the injured one.

“You know I can’t stand to just sit around and do nothing,” he turned to look at you with an unreadable expression in his eyes. Was it anger? Self pity? Annoyance?

“I know, Jack,” you went to his side and put your hands gently on his broad shoulders, trying to get push him back into the bed, “but right now, you need to do just that. Doctor’s orders.”

“Was he even a real doctor, though?” he asked as you rolled your eyes at him. Reluctantly he obliged and laid back against the pillows, his lips drawn into a pout. You would have laughed at his ridiculousness if you hadn’t felt so bad for him.

“Jack, don’t be a grade a dick,” you raised an eyebrow as you tied up your hair, his eyes locked onto you. Your relationship with Jack was…interesting. It had started off as a completely out of the blue one night stand for the both of you, but that had quickly blossomed into a friendship, rather than a sexual relationship. Funny, you had always supposed, how these things ended up working out.

But you were almost inseparable now, always spending time together when he wasn’t on missions. You were okay with being friends, although you wouldn’t have minded more; but you weren’t about to pressure him like that. You knew it must have killed him internally to have to ask you for help. But he figured it was either you, or some random hired help to assist, and he’d much rather have your pretty face around.

“Darlin’, you know I’m just playing around,” you shrugged your shoulders at his response before grabbing the warm mug of tea and handing it to me, “I appreciate all your help, I hope you realize that.”

“I know,” you gave him a wink before sitting down at the edge of the bed, reaching for the cup you had made yourself, “you know I’d do anything for you, Jack. Even if you’re going to be a big whiny baby. Don’t you want to get better quickly?”

“Of course-”

“Then stop trying to fight me on everything and listen to what I’m telling you, cowboy,” you tried to be as firm as possible, but instead he just laughed a little, his dark eyes crinkling in the corners, before it turned into a cough, “apparently no laughing is allowed.”

“This is going to be miserable,” he sighed and you nodded, “but at least I’ve got such a pretty little peach helping me out. Oughta have me back and better than ever in no time.”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’re trying to flirt with me, you old fool,” you snorted into your tea before setting it back down and reaching for his hand. You examined it closely, tracing a finger along the scratches and marks, as if willing for them to magically heal. He remained silent for a moment as he tried to read your expression.

“Is it working?” he asked after a few beats of silence as you bit your lip before meeting his eyes. It was hard to give him an answer - was it working? Yes. Should it have been working? Probably not. You were supposed to be just friends, but he always made it a little more difficult. Something about that sweet southern lilt and his damned brashness made it hard to deny your feelings for him. You gave him a small smile before patting his hand and setting back down.

“Do you want it to be?” you posed in return, trying to figure out where the two of you stood. You weren’t necessarily opposed to being more than friends, but didn’t want to push your boundaries either. But hell, the man already knew you inside out.

“Of course,” he said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. You tried your best to hide the smile and that was threatening to break your face in half, knowing you were doing a horrible job. You tried to keep your head down, so he wouldn’t see your flushed face, but Jack was faster, putting a hand under your chin and turning your face up so you were looking at him, “if that’s okay with you. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“We fucked within hours of meeting each other,” you almost laughed, “a little flirting is definitely not going to make me uncomfortable.”

“I always have loved your boldness,” he admitted, “looks good on you. You were never like the other girls, never afraid to speak your mind.”

“Someone has to put you in your place,” you raised an eyebrow at him, putting your hand on his wrist, and pulling his hand away from your face, “but before you say anything you don’t mean, I’ll stop you here. I’m sure all the painkillers and everything else must be kicking.”

“I’m right as rain,” he insisted, “I know exactly what I’m saying.”

“Mhmm,” you tutted at him as you stood up and crossed your arms over you chest, “we’ll give it a few days. If you’re still feeling the same way once your better and off of all the painkillers, we’ll talk about it. But until then, you need to rest and listen to me.”

“Yes ma’am,” he promised, tipping an imaginary hat at you. You chuckled at him before brushing a few dark locks out of his face, “I’ll be the best patient that anyone could ever have.”

“Somehow I have my suspicious,” you knew the chances of him just going along with everything you told him to do were slim to none, “now, why don’t you tell me exactly how you got into this position. And please, don’t leave out any details. I love hearing about your little spy missions.”

“Little spy missions?!” he clutched as at his heart as gave you a dramatic look, “I’m out here trying to save the world and here you are wounding my heart so.”

“Okay, okay,” you held up your hands in surrender as you sat back down on the edge of the bed, “I’m sorry, Agent Whiskey, please tell me in full detail how you managed to get these injuries in what was no doubt a heroic manner.”

“Okay, now you’re just being a brat,” his smirk was undeniable as you just shrugged innocently.

“Isn’t that what you like?” you teased with a raised eyebrow. Even if his little confession had come from a pain killer induced stupor, you figured that you might as well play along with it. What was life without a little fun, after all?

“You’re going to be the death of me, aren’t you?”

»»————-　♡　————-««

The next week and a half passed with relative ease. Jack had taken to listening to you, knowing that you were right and that if he wanted to get back into the field he should listen to you. You kept him company almost every minute of the day, and it got to the point where you were spending your nights in bed with him, tucked into his side as he dozed off, sleeping better than he had in months, despite the injuries. You liked a lot too; you just weren’t sure if you wanted to admit that to yourself or him just yet. Waking up, tangled with him in the mornings had become an intimate, almost sacred experience.

But, like all good things, your time as Jack’s pseudo-nurse had to come to an end. Unfortunately it came a lot sooner than you would have liked.

“What’s wrong?” Jack asked as he found you staring out of his bedroom window and into the large expanse of his backyard. You shook your head as you were pulled out of your thoughts, finding him standing next to you, “come on, darlin’, I can practically hear the gears turning in your head. You’ve never been one for such silence.”

“Nothing’s wrong,” you gave his arm a reassuring squeeze, doing your best to avoid his eyes.

“Hmm…”

“You’re doing a lot better,” you remarked, amazed by how quickly all of his various injuries had healed. You had no doubt that whatever drugs he had gotten from the doctors at work weren’t exactly hospital standard, but somehow enhanced, “you really don’t need me for much anymore.”

“You’ve been a good helper,” he remarked, putting an arm around your shoulder and pulling you in for a side hug, “I have no doubt that such a speedy recovery would not have been possible without you.”

You gave him a soft smile as you tried your best not to get too lost in his touch, “I guess I’d better get going on home then. You don’t have a need for me anymore.”

“Don’t say it like that,” he chuckled, “I always need you, you’re my best friend, and closest confidant.”

“But you don’t need me here, to help you,” you reminded him.

“Sure I do,” he insisted, “do you remember what we talked about last week?”

Of course you did. It was burned into your mind.

“Remind me,” you said quietly as turned to face you.

“I remember saying something about flirting with you,” he said as you felt your heart start to race a little, “and wondering if you wanted me to you. And you insisted that it was all due to the painkillers.”

“And?”

“And it wasn’t,” he beamed at you, “and I’m still wondering if it’s okay to flirt with you. Because, darlin’, as much as I like being your friend, I’d like to be a little more than your friend…I don’t know how else to tell you, so I figured I’d just tell you straightforward. But, please, if I’m overstepping my boundaries at all, let me know. The last thing I want to do is to make you uncomfortable.”

“Jack…” organizing your thoughts in a coherent phrase was a lot harder than you had anticipated and you opened and closed your mouth a few times like a fish out of water.

Deciding that you weren’t going to be able to phrase anything too well, you put your hands on either side of his face before crashing your lips onto his, taking care not to aggravate any of his remaining injuries. It had didn’t long for him to reciprocate the feelings, wrapping his arms around your waist as he pulled you as close to him as possible. Only when you were desperate for some air did you pull back from him, beaming at him like he was everything you could ever want.

“I don’t think some flirting will make me uncomfortable,” you grinned at him, “I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time…again anyways.”

“Well, darlin’, I’ve been wanting the same thing,” he reassured, “so maybe…you could stay a while longer. There’s no reason for you not to, and I’ve got the space, and you know there are still things I could use help with, and it’s-”

“Jack, you’re rambling,” you cut him off with a quick kiss, which quieted him right up, “but yes. I’ll stay. I’d love to.”

[austarus]

Harrison Wells (Eobard Thawne) x Reader - Integrated Revelations (2/3)

**A/N: The picture/edit/gif does not belong to me.

*Tbh, I was attempting something and I don’t I feel like I’m getting really bad at writing Eobard.. I’m trying ;-; bear with me things will deviate from the plot. Please don’t forget to comment, like, and reblog. It means a lot to content creators of all kinds!

Part 1  Part 3

Word Count: 4687

You shut your eyes, upon reopening them you soundlessly shifted over to your boyfriends’ side as he spoke with a raspy, chilling voice. Like a Queen should to a King. “I mean, who are you really?” Eobard questioned skillfully; one leg crossed over the other. You glanced between both men before your blank gaze settled upon Barry.

“Dr. Wells, what are you doing?”

Eobard’s demeanor did not falter at Barry’s question. The villainous speedster dropped his leg from where it was and sat forward. He hunched himself, elbows pressed onto the edges of the armrests. “None of it adds up. The interference with the comms, the speed equation, the Time Wraith.” You pressed your lips into a thin line as Eobard shook his head while continuing. Barry eyed the dark-haired scientist closely. “That's what we call them. Time Wraiths. Scary, aren't they?” Eobard chuckled darkly to himself. “I thought, ‘Oh, no, a Time Wraith has found me.’ But then I thought, ‘No, no, no.’ You know what you're doing.” He snapped for emphasis. You dropped your gaze, running your fingers over the back of his chair before deciding to take a step back and lean against the pebbled wall. No matter how many times you were in the Time Vault, it always unsettled you the amount of power and knowledge and secrets Eobard can keep within it “Now, the Time Wraith is after someone who's travelled through time...” Eobard tilted his head at Barry, “and doesn't know what they're doing.” A smirk remained plastered on the Wells imposter while Barry’s eyes flickered up at you momentarily. His apprehensive green hues met Eobard’s icy gaze.

Your speedster boyfriend’s words clicked. This version of Barry doesn’t have the faintest idea of how to manipulate time travel like Eobard. He can easily get caught by those monsters. You crossed your arms as you observed the two speedsters. One in control- potent, as always, and the other rendered helpless in those meta-dampening cuffs. Unlike the other version we met. The one who knows about my powers, who denied me an answer.

Barry looked incredulously at Eobard. Choking out a nonchalant laugh, Barry glanced away while feigning his innocence, but the two of you knew this was not your Barry Allen. “Dr. Wells come on. It's me. It's... it's Barry. I don't...” Barry reached out to touch the cool metal of the cuffs. You wanted to step forward to help him out, but you couldn’t find it in your heart to trust this version of Barry either. At least this one’s not giving me headaches.

“Really? You are good.” Eobard puffs out a curt laugh, shaking his head one more and clapping mockingly. “You are good, and I would believe you, except that…” The scientist sped off from his chair, icy blue eyes with a piercing gaze as he towered over Barry. You took a step forward at Eobard’s sudden display with a frown grazing your features and eyes widening a fraction. Intimidation exuded from the older speedster. But your eyes quickly flickered to see Barry’s response. Nothing. “Nothing? I move like this, you barely flinch.” Barry glared up at Eobard with such abhorring emotions in his eyes. “You know who I am. Don't you?” You watched Eobard taunt Barry as he stepped back beside you, leaning back as well. Tension hung thickly in the air. Barry crinkled his nose at you and Eobard then attempted to phase his hand out of the cuffs but to no avail. He should have known better than to try that with those cuffs on. You cleared your throat as Eobard snickered at the younger speedster. “Oh! And you're from the future. Do you know how I know that? Because I haven't taught my Barry Allen how to phase through objects... yet.”

Barry laughed mirthlessly dismissing your existence, but the speedster knew he was defeated. He wasn’t as skilled in the art of deception as you and Eobard were. “Let me out of here, Thawne.”

You heard Eobard sigh at the utterance of his name. Rolling your eyes at his dramatics, you eyed the speedster while he pushed off the wall. “I know. You're upset.” Eobard dragged his white chair to take a seat once more. The genius deceiver coyly grinned at the scarlet speedster, bound to the wheelchair. “But it does me good to hear that name again. Now, onto the bigger question.” He fumbled with his fingers, anticipation- ideas- possible reasons on exactly why The Flash had decided to take another detour to the past whirled inside his mind.

“Why are you here?” You piped up unfurling your arms, instead tucking your hands into the back of your pants pockets. “You’re from a different time obviously, couldn’t you figure out your own problems from there? Why bother looking for solutions in a past you clearly despise?” Barry refused to answer you. “Or do you always need to run to Dr. Wells whenever little Barry Allen gets stuck?” Eobard glanced back at the venom dripping from your words. The hard look on your face, the sheer coldness settling within your eyes at his archnemesis. It made his heart swoon yet… Eobard felt worried at just how frigid you can be. How easy it was for you to turn off those positive emotions that you carry on inside. Would you do the same to him?

“Because I want to go faster,” Barry’s sneered, an abrupt response after your malicious tone caused Eobard’s head to snap back at towards him. “And he’s the only one who can teach me.” The forensics scientist forced out the statement, a steely expression on his face. Barry narrowed his eyes from you down to Eobard, a hint of curiosity in those hazel-greens. “You're the only one who's figured out the equation. The Speed Force. You've manipulated it. How did you do that?”

Before you could say anything, Eobard stood up with crossed arms, whispering to himself. “No. No, no, no, no, no, no, no. No.” The older speedster locked his gaze at the wall, running the tips of his fingers over the pebbled half-spheres. Curiously, you quirked an eyebrow before your eyes met with Barry’s, who only slightly shrugged at you. Eobard circled Barry, like a predator circling its next kill. Instead… you sensed something was off by the way his shoulders tensed. “You'd only come here if something went wrong.”

You uttered; a wave of uneasiness flooded over you, “What-but-”

“-If you're still alive, then that means...” Eobard turned to Barry with a grimace. He was one the other side of the room now. You were between the two men, a good distance between each. Your fingers fidgeted as they now remain beside you, heart clenching that all of this wouldn’t work. Dread began stirring inside you, fueling the headache you head earlier, and a sense of insecurity snatched your heart. So, the other Barry was onto to something, he just didn’t want to tell me… I don’t-We don’t get our happy ending. “I haven't beaten you. If you're still alive... that means my plan fails.” Eobard swallows thickly as the words escaped him, avoiding your gaze as a pained expression crossed his face. I don’t go home. I don’t end up taking her with me, making her my bride like I promised all those nights ago. Living far away together from The Flash robbing me from anything else that brings me joy. He blinked a few times, his moment of realization that he would fail turned to pure ballistic intentions in milliseconds. “And if my plan fails,” you shuddered at Eobard’s frustration flourishing as he kicked the chair over. You felt stunned in your place. You felt small. You hated whenever he was in these rage fits, especially when they were about Barry. “I don't get to go home, and if that's the case, well, then-” Eobard had aggressively rounded in quick strides to the restrained speedster, a phasing hand slicing through the air to strike Barry.

“No, no, no! Hey, hey, hey! It's the opposite! It's the opposite!” Barry shouted rapidly to stop the futuristic speedster, holding a hand out to protect himself from Eobard’s phasing hand. His other arm reflexively pulled at his restraint, wishing he could phase out of the cuffs and manifest his speed again. “It... you trick me. You harnessed my speed. We turn on the accelerator to create a path for you to go home. I go back in time. You go back to yours.” The scarlet speedster nodded his head in your direction as he spoke up again before letting his eyes meet Eobard’s heated gaze. You dare say that you saw a hint of sadness in the young speedster’s eyes when he looked at you. “She goes with you. You won. Yeah.” Barry took a breath in, muscles taut at the prospect of his enemy killing him before he got the chance to stop Zoom and his reign of terror.

“Eobard, stop.” You didn’t know when during the exchange you had found yourself right by his side, maneuvering yourself to stand in front of him, promptly blocking his view of Barry. “Eo, look at me.” He did. The dark-haired man gave you a dangerous look, jaw clenched while you reached out to hold onto his raised arm. Your fingers touched his wrist gently. “Breathe,” you spoke intently, searching his eyes for any sign of reason that he normally held. “Anger blinds even the strongest of people- the smartest of people, including speedsters.” You told us that. The phasing hand subsided as you lowered it with ease. Eobard shut his eyes, his hand slipping into yours as he reopened them. The speedster knew what you were saying, knew that he needed to rationalize before acting- before he executed this version of The Flash.

A disposable version, if it means anything to you.

Barry ran a hand over his opposite shoulder, his arm was beginning to numb in place, but his eyes never left the two of you. He clenched and unclenched his hand to circulate the blood. As volatile as Harry is back in his time, Eobard was on equal par. The only difference being that you never knew exactly when the Reverse Flash would bite back, or to what degree. Barry made no comment when you linked hands, but the brown-haired CSI caught the flicker of change in Eobard’s eyes. The yellow speedster’s anger dissipated behind those baby blue hues as his gaze softened for you. Barry observed how you and Eobard deeply cared for each other. All over again. He almost felt bad for the events that would surely lead to Eobard’s removal from existence and your forever broken heart. How the two of you would be forever separated. Almost.

You were conflicted. Hurt. Frustrated. You dad no clue what to think. Barry’s your best friend. He wouldn’t… intentionally hurt you, would he? But then a way future version of Barry seemingly dismissed your existence and your concerns over Eobard. Now this version treated you with the same dismissal, if not with even more loathing. Both versions clearly knew you were with the man in the yellow suit, but… Your heart is a kind one, no matter how damaged or twisted it could get. Deep down, you knew that whatever version of Barry you meet along the way, he’d always be your best friend. Even if Eobard did despise the young speedster and his existence.

“Then why are you here? Why are you here now?” The yellow speedster reverted to a more defensive stance; eyes now locked with Barry’s. You turned to look at this version of your best friend.

“Because when I got back, a singularity had formed. And now the only way for me to learn how to get faster and stop the singularity from happening was to come here. Now.”

“Well, that's good to know.” Eobard sighed to himself, icy hues glancing to yours as a twisted smile greeted his features. Barry looked up at you for any indication that you would help get him out. You pursed your lips regretfully with hesitation. Eobard walked over to his chair, setting it back before pacing once more in the Time Vault. The heroic speedster was increasingly growing uncomfortable on the cold ground. “There's just... Just one thing that occurs to me. I don't need you. Do I?” You watched him turn to Barry, dismissing the look you shot him. “Not this you certainly. Oops. You probably should've thought of that before you came back here. Shame...” A malicious laugh left Eobard as he slowly approached Barry’s helpless form, his fingers twitching to use the powers of the negative speed-force to end Barry Allen. “You ran all the way back here just to die.”

“You can’t be serious,” you hissed at the man you love, side-stepping in front of Eobard. The corner of his lips twitched in an unsettling manner; amusement slightly present in his eyes. “You promised me you wouldn’t hurt him!” A quiet air of relief left Barry. He didn’t… He never knew of the promise you had made with Eobard. That his life wouldn’t be in the hands of death in any way. But he could use this.

“This isn’t your Barry,” Eobard protested in a low voice.

“This is a future version of my best friend, whom you promised me you wouldn’t hurt, maim, and/or kill! Our promise includes any version of Barry Allen.” Eobard chewed on the inside of his cheeks at your words, a sour planted itself on his face when he glanced once more at Barry. The man in the yellow suit knew he would honor his promise to you in the end. He keeps his word, after all.

“You heard her, I’m untouchable.” A cocky smile crossed Barry’s face, shooting it right at Barry. You threw a glare at him, shut the fuck up Barry. I’m the only one holding him back from phasing a hand right through your heart. Any version of you. For once, think before you do something like speaking, especially when you aren’t in a state to be taunting an evil speedster that has you bound. “But by all means, you kill me... Barry... this Barry, your Barry, he learns it all.” He gestured to you and Eobard. Dread filled Eobard as Barry continued to tout out words confidently. The speedster had carefully planned this out, just in case he was to get caught by Thawne. “There's a hidden letter telling him how it ends, how to beat you, everything. Anything happens to me; you never make it back home.” Barry turned to you with stoically cold eyes. “She never sees you again.” Take those words as you will, Thawne. Your hands fell limply beside you as you Eobard clenched his hands into tight fists. You heard your heart drum loudly in your ears at the prospect of this Barry’s threat. With heavy feet, you padded away from Barry before turning to eye him with cautious eyes. Eobard’s face was devoid of any emotion as he took a seat while you settled beside him. “Go on. Kill me, Thawne. See how this all ends.” Eobard held his breath, weighing his options. Pros and cons. Gains and losses. “Now, you're gonna help me get faster.” Resting a hand on Eobard’s shoulder you squeezed it, trying to use your touch to convey ease into him while Barry smirked triumphantly at the two of you. Eobard’s face twitched in silent fuming.

“Dr. Wells, Ms. (L/N),” Gideon’s voice cut through the deadly second of silence, “the time wraith has appeared.” The AI broadcasted a screen of Cisco and Caitlin running to the Pipeline, entering the cell that Hartley resides in and sealing it. Its grotesque body swayed in the air. Half-formed limbs scratching the glass as your friends screamed for any indication that this thing can be yoinked away and out of existence.

“Barry! (Y/N)! Dr. Wells!” Caitlin shrieked as the Time Wraith pounded on the glass, shattering a segment, but not piercing through into the cell. Ghostly fumes emitted from the hauntingly decaying figure. Cisco and Hartley were fumbling with the gauntlets while another piercing scream echoed throughout that sector of the labs.

“Oh my god, we have to do something! It’s going to kill them!” You whipped your head to the two of them. They’re the ones with speed.

“You let it track you here,” Eobard turned with a pointed look at Barry.

Barry shook his restraints, with an anxious look, “Get me out of here! Come on!”

Eobard sneered in a gruff tone, “If that thing comes after me and messes with my plans, you're all dead.”

“Now’s not the time to be making death threats, especially when he’s the one with max speed-force in his veins!” You reprimanded Eobard, who threw you a look while rolling his eyes at you before setting Barry free. Standing up, Barry felt his speed return to him as he shook his numbed limb. The two men nodded at each other, yellow and red electricity crackling in the air. Eobard wrapped a lithe limb around your waist, his other hand firmly grasping the back of his wheelchair. Both speedsters sped out of the Time Vault in a torrent of lightning.

***

“I'm sorry that we didn't come sooner,” Barry apologized, for the 2nd time as he stepped quickly into the Cortex with you trailing behind him and Eobard. His heart was heavy at the prospect of his presence here was causing his friends more trouble than he intended. Caitlin and Cisco took their respective seats at the main Cortex monitors while you and Dr. Wells lingered a bit behind.

“It's all right, Inky's gone. I don't see anything,” Cisco breathed out, eyes focused on the computer screen. He flipped through all the camera footage before turning his head to Dr. Wells. “You know, we'd be toast if wasn't for Hartley and those gauntlets.”

“Well, self-preservation is a very strong motivator, but he stays in the cell until I say otherwise,” Eobard starkly dictated, subtly out of breath from the little run around the labs to the Pipeline. Your eyes raked over him worriedly. He didn’t have all his speed, especially since he used up a good amount on Christmas. Eobard’s body’s still feeling the side effects of his speed-force in a state of flux.

Cisco turned back to the monitors, “Okay, I'm just saying.”

“So, the two places this thing has attacked are here and CCPD.” You took your tablet and ran scans over the Labs then the city for an abnormal particle signature. You also had Gideon secretly run a scan over Barry’s lab, just in case it decided to make a reappearance there. Particularly ones of tachyons or from the speed-force.

“The common denominator being...” Caitlin trailed off, swiveling her chair towards Barry.

“Me. Yeah, I know. I just... I don't know why.” Barry let out an exasperated sigh.

“Well, you must have done something to piss him off.” Cisco added in; his computer pinged negatively after a couple of scans. “Satellite hasn't found anything.”

Eobard nervously wrung his hands, eyes meeting yours for a moment. “We need to find a more permanent solution to this problem.” He gestured when he continued to Caitlin and Cisco. “Start by repairing Hartley's gauntlets. That's about as good a first step as any.”

“I got some parts for it.” Cisco nodded at Dr. Wells, glancing at you. You already knew what he was about to ask.

“I’ve got any vitals and scans for the city until you two come back.” You held up your tablet with a little smile on your face. “Don’t worry, I’ve go your back.”

“Let's go for it,” Caitlin grinned, turning to Cisco. The two of them took their leave. Once they were out of earshot and out of sight you whipped around with an incredulous look on your face.

“You don't know how to stop a Time Wraith?” You and Barry both quired, which irritated Eobard at the sync.

“None of us do.” The speedster responded roughly. You felt bad for Eobard, his entire plan to get home is in jeopardy because of a future version of Barry. “That's why we always try and avoid them in our travels.”

“‘We’?” You and Barry just gave each other looks, simultaneously responding together once more. The scarlet speedster sneered at you, that was enough to shut you up and take a seat back at the monitors.

“‘Speedsters’... we're not the only two out there, you know?”

“This isn't the first time I've time traveled. How come I've never seen one of these until now?”

Eobard stood up, his demeanor clearly showed he was pissed and exasperated, but he kept his emotions in check. Especially with the Time Wraith looming around somewhere. He stepped closer towards Barry. “Because you ran out of luck.” You watched Barry lean against the railing, shaking his head when Eobard continued before grudgingly meeting your eyes. You offered him a sympathetic smile, he reluctantly returned it. “And Time Wraiths hate it when speedsters manipulate the timeline, and now that thing's gonna do everything it can to end you.” You wanted to say something but decided against it. Barry scoffed at Eobard, rolling his eyes when the man turned away from him. “Here's what we're gonna do. You're gonna go to CCPD. You're gonna see what you can find to help us stop this thing-” Eobard nodded at you. You collected your things and got up, ready to work. “-We'll do the same here.”

“Well, what am I supposed to be looking for?

You started, “Barr, You're in forensics-“

“-Figure something out.” The man in the yellow suit only sent a warning glare to Barry, pulling his damned wheelchair along with him.

“Hey, what about the equation? Me getting faster?” Barry’s nostrils flared, stepping forward and gesturing to the clear board that held the speed equation.

“If we don't stop this thing, there's gonna be no point in me teaching you anything.” With that the two parted, Eobard sat back in his chair and he wheeled to his side lab whereas Barry let out an exhausted sigh. He rubbed his face, eyes meeting yours once more. Grabbing his coat, the young speedster pushed past you, his shoulders bumping yours. The action didn’t go unnoticed by your boyfriend, who narrowed his eyes from afar then turned back to his work. Your eyes lingered for a moment before an idea popped into your head.

“I think I should go with him,” you turned towards Eobard, running a hand over your hair and loosening your hair out of the hair tie. Maybe that’ll help with the headaches.

“What?”

“With Barry”

“No, absolutely not!”

“Why not?” You pouted, taking a seat beside him. You subtly wanted to see how many buttons you can push while this version of Barry was here.

“Over my. Rotting. Corpse.”

You froze at his comment, his body was already turned away from you. A mental image of Eobard’s corpse vividly plagued you. Blinking a few times, that phrase echoed in your head. It’s like I’ve heard that before… but where? You needed to shake the feeling off. “Don’t say things like that! If anything happens, I’ll let you know what’s going on.” You lightly slap his arm. The corner of Eobard’s lips turned up slightly then he leaned over for a kiss. You gave him a chaste one to finish your defense on the situation. “Plus, you and I both know you can handle things here at the lab. You don’t need me around.”

“I will always want you to be around me, even if I’m working. Besides the point- stay away from Barry.” He emphasized. “The Time Wraith is here for him; it hasn’t detected me. I don’t…” Eobard sighed through his nose, his gaze locked onto yours and you felt your breath hitch. “I can’t lose you to that monster.”

“…”

“Please, kitten.” He looked at you desperately.

“Only because you said ‘please’,” you kissed his cheek fondly, giving in to him. You didn’t miss the way his voice strained at the thought of losing you or the fact that he asked. Eobard generally never asks, not until he met you. The speedster glanced at you when you were recalibrating the satellites, he noticed the fake grin that you plastered on your face at his corpse comment. He made a mental note to ask you what’s wrong later. It hurt his heart to see you put up a wall right now, but it was understandable, to say the least. “You know, I always like watching you work.”

“Why is that?”

“Dunno, maybe I just like watching you work your magic with those capable hands of yours.”

“I can show you just how capable these hands are tonight.” Your speedster wiggled his eyebrows at you, eliciting a deep blush and giggle. His hand left the device on the table, resting on your thigh. You felt your body temperature spike up even more at his touch.

“Eobard, you can’t say things like that at work!”

“Why not? I’m the boss.” The speedster whispered to you, his blue eyes hypnotizing you. Eobard leaned close, slotting himself to kiss your neck a few times.

A sweet sigh left your lips. “What if the others walk in on us?” You pressed a hand against his sturdy chest. Eobard pressed a kiss below your ear before a chuckle left his lips.

“I’m sure they’ll allow me a free pass, just this once.”

***

After a few hours or so, Cisco and Caitlin came back with the gauntlets. The two explained how the managed to save every piece and analyze their potential. Cisco and Dr. Wells remained in a heavily – mechanical engineer type of conversation that you and Caitlin stayed silent for.

“So, can these gauntlets be salvaged?” Dr. Wells questioned, wheeling closer to the displayed Hartley’s sonic gauntlets.

“Their electron guns are fried,” Cisco shook his head.

“So, it shorted the wave tubes-“

“-And destroyed the amplifiers.” They both finished the thought.

“Yeah, but to be honest with you, I don't know how to manipulate the frequency variance.” Cisco spoke, glancing at the three of you.

“Hartley would know.” Caitlin added in, hands on her sides, “He's the one who did it.”

“As much as a dick that he was, he seems to be an expert with sound waves and frequency variance of such caliber,” you mused, nodding with Caitlin.

“See if he can help, but he stays in the cell,” the genius scientist instructed,

“But then what? That thing's gonna come back.” Cisco retaliated

“I don't know,” Dr. Wells stated exasperatedly. He didn’t know what to do, Hartley’s guns were the only thing he’s known to deter the Time Wraiths. If only the electron guns weren’t fired then he would have been able to dissect and adjust the gauntlets.

“Hey, its going to be ok,” you tried reassuring everyone, mainly Eobard. “We always end up crossing over these kinds of bridges. We’ve got the smartest minds and the most skilled scientists here.” Cisco and Caitlin smiled a bit at you. But you saw the calculating look on Eobard’s eyes. The futuristic villain was taking this harder than Barry himself, walking on eggshells particularly with concealing his speed. Taking any precaution to ensure his safety as well as yours. Your boyfriend explained that if you had gotten closer to the Time Wraith it would sense you. You blushed slightly at the next thought Theoretically, he said his speed-force signature particles had rubbed off on me… Probably from one too many nights of-

“Where is he? Where's the other Flash?” A different Barry demanded. Your version of Barry demanded, out of breath and pissed as hell. Your eyes widened at the sudden appearance of this time’s Flash, mouth open for a bit before closing it. Eobard just covered his face, silently counting to 10 before he choked a bitch.

Well shit, I totally forgot about our Barry.

“Right here.”

Well fuck

[jaskierswolf]

You Set My Heart Ablaze pt. 15/25

Previous

___________

The staffroom was strangely quiet. It had been ever since Stregobor had been suspended. Triss had anticipated a gleeful celebration after the man had left the building but instead the teacher’s all seemed particularly morose. It was as if they had been reminded how quickly they could lose their jobs. One wrong remark and they could been here one week and gone the next.

There hadn’t been any updates on the investigation against Stregobor but Triss was optimistic. Somedays it seemed like she was the only one but she had to remain optimistic for her own sanity. She had to believe it had all been worth it. There had been so many testimonies against the headmaster and really he’d made hell for everyone over his years at the school. The teachers had suffered his wandering eyes and the students that he took a shine to were bullied beyond belief. It was all the other teachers could do just to shield their young pupils from his wrath, and even then it hadn’t always been successful.

She stirred her soup with a heavy sigh. Maybe she could visit Yennefer at the weekend. A night out in Cidaris would do her some good. She glanced around the almost silent room. She missed the lunch time gossip, she missed the endless chatter and she missed the sound of Jaskier plucking at whatever instrument he’d chosen for the day.

She barely saw her friend now.

She thought he would have been delighted and giddy with excitement after Valdo left but that evening he’d locked himself in her guest room and that had been it. A week later he’d been allowed to move back to his flat and he’d barely glanced in her direction on the way out.

She’d managed to corner him in his classroom one lunch break but it hadn’t gone at all well. She’d teased him about Geralt as was their way and she’d expected him to dramatically swoon or make some crude remark and then they’d giggle over it until the bell rang.

Instead he’d practically pushed her out of the room claiming to be too busy for idle gossip about parents.

Now instead of a cheery wave when he passed her desk in the mornings, he mumbled a strained hello before moving on.

She was starting to wonder whether she’d done something wrong.

Or perhaps Tissaia had challenged him over his crush on Geralt. Now she was headmistress she was responsible for ensuring the staff behaved appropriately.

Either way something was wrong, and she was going to find out. She hated to see her friend hurting. She was going to fix this because she was Triss Merigold and fixing things is what she did best.

She picked up her bag and danced out of the room towards Jaskier’s classroom. There was no music playing so she knocked on the door. She heard scuffling from inside the room before Jaskier beckoned her in.

He rolled his eyes when he saw her but she ignored him. Whatever was wrong with him, he was being childish, more so than the kids he taught.

“What can I do for you, Ms Merigold?” He asked wearily.

His hair fell limply in front of his eyes. He was probably due a cut but he normally took a lot more care in his appearance at school. He was ghostly pale and he looked exhausted. His shirt hadn’t been ironed and he had ketchup stains on his trousers.

He was a mess.

“Jaskier.” She plopped down on top of the one of the desks in the front row. “What’s going on?”

He frowned. “Nothing at all.”

“You look like you’ve been dragged through a hedge backwards.” She raised an eyebrow at him.

“Charming as ever Ms Merigold.”

“My name is Triss, Jaskier.” She chided. “And you’ve never had a problem in using it before. I can see something is wrong. Tell me.”

“It’s none of your business.” He snapped.

“You are my friend.” She insisted. “And as my friend, it hurts me when you shut me out.”

“It’s nothing.”

“Bullshit!” She yelled. “You are clearly not sleeping. I don’t think you’ve had lunch in two weeks. You barely even talk to me anymore and I don’t think I’ve heard you play any music outside of class since Stregobor left!”

“I’m just so heartbroken by his disappearance.” He muttered sarcastically but flinched at his own words.

“I know we haven’t been good friends for that long Jaskier but let me in. It helps to talk about it.” She insisted.

“You’ve done more than enough for me, Triss.” Jaskier shook his head. “I would have had nowhere to stay if not for you. I am indebted.”

Triss laughed. “Nonsense! But if you really want to pay me back then you can buy me a drink next time we go to the pub after work? What about tonight, it’s been a while since we went out.”

He bristled and glared fiercely at her. “No drinks.”

“Ok fine. What about coffee?” She tried to keep her growing frustration out of her voice but he was being infuriatingly stubborn.

“Absolutely not.”

“Fine. You can buy my lunch for a week but remember I’m a vegetarian.” She smirked, hoping her gentle teasing would lift his gloom.

He scowled. “Fine. That would be acceptable.”

She rolled her eyes. “Come on, Jask.”

“Don’t call me that!” He spat and launched out of his seat and across the room in a heartbeat.

Triss took a deep breath to calm herself. Her friend was acting like a spooked horse. She couldn’t work out which words were going to send him flying.

“Jaskier?” She reached out to him. He looked at her with tears shining in his eyes. “Can I hug you?”

He nodded and flung himself into her waiting arms, sobbing against her shoulder. She stroked his hair whilst he exhausted himself with his tears. It couldn’t have been for very long, lunch time was almost over and the bell never rang but eventually his shoulders stilled and he was able to take steady breaths again. “What happened Jaskier?”

“I fell in love.” His voice cracked, muffled as he pressed his face into her shirt.

“Geralt?” She had to ask, she couldn’t think of anyone else but she had to ask.

She’d seen Jaskier get crushes before and he was never subtle. She remembered his fling with Stella . He’d sung her praises for months before she’d cheated on him and he’d come back in the spring term with fire in his heart and a whole new repertoire about heartbreak and betrayal.

But he’d never been this broken.

He tensed up in her arms. “Fuck.” He pushed away and tried to wipe the tears from his eyes. “I need to go and clean up.”

“Jaskier.” She pleaded. “Tell me what happened.”

“I already did.”

She scoffed. “Hardly.”

“I fell in love and we know that can’t fucking happen. I’m fine.”

She raised an eyebrow at him.

“I will be fine.” He amended. “I fall out of love faster than I fall into it.” He finished with a flick of his wrist.

He swooped from the room without looking back and she sighed.

She didn’t know how to fix this.

___________________________

It took another week of Jaskier’s self pity before Triss managed to think of a plan. He was showing signs of getting better. He’d started eating lunch in the staffroom again, and she’d even seen him scribbling in his notebook. He was still avoiding any instruments and it seemed as if he would never get rid of the dark circles around his eyes but he was getting better.

In the end it was Ciri that sparked her into action. She’d been on end of school pick up duty when she’d heard Ciri talking to her babysitter.

“Coën?” The ashen-haired girl had asked as he helped her with her bag that had been falling from her shoulders.

“Yes, cub?”

“I think Mr Jaskier is sad.” She replied glumly. “He doesn’t smile much anymore.”

Triss’s heart ached in her chest.

“Maybe he’s just tired.” Coën suggested.

Ciri shook her head. “No. I don’t think so. I think he’s upset with us.”

Coën pulled the girl into a hug. “What if I get your dad to email him and ask what’s wrong?”

Ciri stuck her tongue out as she considered the question and then nodded. “Yeah. I don’t want him to be sad anymore.”

After that they had walked out of the school gates and Triss hadn’t heard anymore of their conversation but Ciri’s words left a lasting impression.

As soon as the last child was bundled into their parent’s car, Triss fled the car park and marched to Tissaia’s office.

The older woman was buried under a mountain of paperwork. There were messy sketches dotted around her desk at odd intervals and her friend looked like she really needed the Beltane holidays to come round sooner rather than later.

She glanced up when she’d notice Triss had entered her office. “Triss? Everything alright?”

Triss was momentarily distracted by the sheer amount of work on Tissaia’s desk. “Shit, you look like you’re drowning under all of that!”

Tissaia pursed her lips and sat up straighter in her chair. “A necessary evil. It’s shame Philippa didn’t send a third teacher to take over my position when I stepped up” The headmistress looked thoughtfully at her. “But that’s not why you came?”

Triss shook her head. “Hypothetically speaking….”

“Hypothetically?” Tissaia raised an eyebrow as she straightened the cuffs of her shirt.

“Completely hypothetically. What would happen if a teacher started to date a parent?” Triss twisted a lock of hair nervously between her fingers. “Is there actually in their contracts that say they can’t?”

Tissaia smirked. “No. Nothing like that but it is seriously frowned upon, and there are other clauses that could get the teacher into trouble. Favouring one student over another for example.”

“Yes but, if two adults genuinely care about it each other. Isn’t it cruel to keep them apart?” Triss insisted. “What if one the teacher’s had a kid starting school? That would be favouritism but they can’t not go to school?”

Tissaia sighed. “Triss. Is there something you need to tell me? Perhaps about a certain year two teacher.”

“He hasn’t done anything wrong!” Triss shouted before clapping a hand over her mouth. “They never dated as far as I’m aware.” She said more quietly. “But you know Jaskier.”

“I do.” Tissaia nodded.

“He wears his heart on his sleeve.” Triss pleaded with her friend to see reason. “Tissaia. Please. He’s miserable.”

“There’s nothing I can do, Triss.” Tissaia held her gaze steadily, her eyes as cold as ice.

“Bullshit!” She accused.

Tissaia’s gaze softened and she gave Triss a sad smile. “I wish I could. I’m no monster, Triss. I have noticed his sudden change in mood. I’d suspected Geralt might have been the cause. I was hoping that it meant whatever might have been going on between them was finished. I didn’t want to have to turn a blind-eye to their obvious flirtations.”

“Would you have?” Triss asked. “If Jaskier wasn’t acting like a heartbroken fool and was still simpering over Geralt? Would you have turned a blind-eye?”

Tissaia looked away. “Love is a powerful force. It would be foolish to fight it.”

“Does Jaskier know?” Triss asked sharply.

Tissaia shook her head. “I can’t get involved.”

“But if he found out?” She persisted.

“Well that’s out of my hands.”

Triss grinned and pulled her friend into a side-hug. It was a little awkward with Tissaia still sitting down but Triss didn’t care. “Thank you!”

__________________

Unfortunately for Triss her plan to save whatever had been brewing between the fireman and her friend was harder than she had anticipated. Jaskier was still flighty and hard to pin down. He was making more of an effort now to talk to her and plastered a fake smile on his face whilst he was a work but any mention of Geralt, no matter how small, sent him hurtling out of the room faster than the speed of light. She was trying to tell him that Tissaia wouldn’t be against his flirtations but the damned teacher just wouldn’t listen to her. He was acting like a wounded cat that had been backed into a corner.

It was beyond infuriating.

She needed help. She tapped her nails on her desk as she stared at her phone. She could get in trouble for using the number without a valid reason but she was running out of options and her friend was hurting. She scrolled through her contacts and hovered over Yennefer’s number. Yennefer would want to help Geralt, and if Triss mentioned that Ciri was sad about her teacher then that would help sway Yennefer to her way of thinking.

Plus she was less likely to get into trouble by calling Yennefer.

More likely to get herself murdered in her sleep though.

She grinned and rolled her eyes. She knew her best friend wouldn’t hurt her really, the other woman could just be a little prickly at times, especially when it came to Geralt and Ciri.

She flicked back through her phone, took a deep breath and dialled the number from her screen. She waited with bated breath whilst the phone rang. She almost hung up a couple of times, her nerves nearly getting the better of her, before someone picked up on other end of the line.

“Kaer Morhen Fire Station.”

It sounded like Vesemir which was a relief. She’d spoken to the kindly old man a few times when there had been problems at the school and when the older fireman had been trying to organise the event for the kids.

“Vesemir?” She asked to be sure.

“Speaking.” He grunted

“Hi, It’s Triss Merigold.” She started to say.

“From the school. Yes yes. Geralt’s on a job right now.” Vesemir stated. “Is Ciri alright?”

Triss smiled to herself. Young Ciri seemed to have the entire fire station wrapped around her little finger. From what Yennefer had told her, Geralt’s rota, the wolf pack, were like one giant family and Ciri was the latest addition to the family. She was aware the young girl had spent the holidays with the wolves but it still warmed her heart to hear the immediate concern in the older fireman’s voice.

“She’s fine. I’m calling about Geralt.” Triss said hurriedly in case anyone entered the foyer and overheard her half of the conversation.

Vesemir huffed on the other side of the line. “This isn’t a work call is it, Ms Merigold?”

Triss smiled serenely and put on her best angelic voice. “In a manner of speaking, of course it is.”

“Explain.” Vesemir said in a gruff voice.

“I was just wondering if Mr Rivia had been acting any differently in the last.” She paused whilst she counted the dates back in her head. “three weeks or so.”

There was silence on the other end of the call.

“Because there's been an unfortunate development on my end.” Triss continued.

“Mr Pankratz?” Vesemir asked.

Triss hummed her agreement. “It’s been a sorry sight.”

Vesemir sighed. “I don’t know what you expect me to say, Ms Merigold. Geralt has been fine. If anything he’s been more focussed than I’ve seen him for months. I’d assumed he’d finally managed to balance his work and home life. It’s been a relief.”

Triss frowned. “But is he happy?”

Vesemir laughed. “He’s doing his job well and the team are more efficient than ever. I’m sure if there were any problems that wouldn’t be the case Ms Merigold. I’m sorry, but I can’t help you.”

Triss slunk forward on her desk. She hadn’t realise how much she’d been relying on Vesemir’s help from Geralt’s side but if the silver-haired fireman wasn’t affected at all by whatever was ailing Jaskier then perhaps she had overestimated Geralt’s feelings. She had been sure Geralt had liked Jaskier. He always seemed more than happy to see him, whenever they had cause to interact.

“Ok. Well thanks anyway. Sorry for bothering you.” She mumbled.

“I appreciate your concern, Ms Merigold.” Vesemir hung up.

Triss swore under her breath. She began to think that maybe she was getting too involved in matters that didn’t involve her but she did care about Jaskier. She’d begun to almost see him like a younger brother and she was fond of him. She’d watched Geralt break one of her friend’s hearts already and she didn’t want to go through it all again.

He may be one good-looking man but he was starting to get on her nerves.

Her desk phone began to rang and she rolled her eyes. She recognised the number. It belonged to one of the parents of the Foxgloves. The father in question had not taken the news about Mr Marx well and had taken an instant dislike to Filavandrel. The man had been ringing almost daily to try and get his daughter transferred to the Buttercups, and despite numerous attempts at explaining that Mr Pankratz’s class was full, he wouldn’t take no for any answer.

Still, Triss had some pent up frustration. Maybe a good heated discussion with a parent would let it out.

She grinned menacingly as she picked up the phone.

“Dol Blathanna School. Ms Merigold speaking.” She trilled sweetly into the receiver and she drew some vines in the margin of her notebook.

______________________________

That weekend Triss was browsing through the aisles of the local garden centre when she bumped into one of the other firemen, the sandy blond with the vicious scar down his face.

She was looking through the rows of seeds for some new plants for her garden. She had a selection of herbs growing nicely in her kitchen for when she was cooking but she was looking to experiment with making her own loose tea mixes. She already used her mint plant to make tea, peppermint in particular was good for the digestive system and she wasn’t exactly well blessed in that department. She often felt sick after eating and the peppermint helped to settle her stomach. She thought about growing some chamomile flowers. They looked not too dissimilar to daisies and would be perfect for spring time, plus the flowers were known to help relax and she’d felt the stress build up since the beginning of the month.

Maybe if she blended it with lavender she could make a nice nighttime tea.

That was her last thought before her basket went flying and she fell into a wall of muscle.

“Oh shit!” The wall steadied her in his arms. “Are you ok?”

Triss looked up at the man. He was taller than she was by a good few inches but he seemed gentle and kind. She thanked him and gathered up her shopping, turning back to the rows of seeds.

The fireman was watching her. She could feel his burning emerald gaze on the back of her neck. She glanced back over her shoulder at him and raised her eyebrows.

“Did you need something?” She asked.

He blushed which made her smirk, the poor man probably hadn’t even realised, and then he scratched the back of his neck. “You’re from the school right?”

Triss tilted her head and picked up a packet of seeds from the hooks in front of her. Lemon Balm, could be a good addition to her nighttime blend. “What of it?” She asked cautiously. “I can’t tell you anything about the kids if that’s what you’re wondering. Not even Ciri.”

He visibly paled. “Oh gods no. That’s not. No.”

She laughed and let her fingers brush over the packets of seeds. Perhaps some ginger? That would certainly help to soothe her stomach. It was a natural anti-nauseant. “Then what can I do for you, fireman?”

“Eskel. I’m a friend of Geralt’s. He’s like a brother really. Well, not my real brother, Lambert. Melitele knows he’s a pain in the ass.” Eskel wittered on aimlessly.

Triss laughed. “Ah yes. The hot-headed fireman. Yennefer has mentioned him on occasion and he was at the school right?”

“Ah yes. Yeah. We both were.” Eskel grinned.

Triss remembered. She remembered Jaskier drooling over the lot of them when they’d walked through the doors, and quite rightly so. They were certainly a good-looking bunch of men. “You were both on the hose, right?”

Eskel nodded. “That’s right.”

“Well,” Triss said as she dropped one last packet of seeds into her basket. It was a wildflower mix designed to help attract bees to the garden. She was looking to leave a small patch of her garden to grow wildly and this would help. “It was nice to meet you, Eskel.”

“Wait.” Eskel moved in front of her and Triss froze, glaring up at the fireman. He seemed to realise his mistake and took a step back away from her. “Please.”

She put her free hand on her hip and raised her eyebrows at the man. “Go on, quickly.”

“You asked Vesemir about Geralt, right?” Eskel said quickly.

“I did, I thought he might have had an argument or something with a friend of mine.” Triss agreed quietly. “I was wrong.”

“You were right.” Eskel countered. “Vesemir hasn’t noticed because he’s stuck in the office. Geralt’s been a miserable grumpy bastard the last few weeks, more prickly than Lambert.” He laughed but Triss didn’t really understand the joke. “How’s the teacher?”

“Sadder than a puppy left outside the pet shop.” Triss rolled her eyes. “Heartbroken and sulking.”

“Do you know what happened?” Eskel asked and Triss shook her head.

“He won’t talk about it, he practically runs from the room at the mention of Geralt.”

“White Wolf’s the same.” Eskel nodded sombrely

“So Geralt did like Jaskier?” Triss asked with a tilt of her head.

Eskel rolled his eyes. “He was absolutely smitten. It was driving us nuts but at least it was better than this grumpy pity party, he was at least happy before.”

“You’ll help me fix this then?” Triss asked.

“I’ll do my best.” Eskel held out his hand and Triss shook it before pulling a pen from her purse and scribbling her number on the back of his hand.

Maybe all was not lost after all. _______

Next

[ficsandcatsandficsandcats]

Could you do one with one of my favorite cliche tropes ever? Jaskier and Reader got a room for the night on their journey and *dramatic pause* ....There was only one bed. (I have friends irl who are totally okay with platonic cuddling and its genuinely the best thing in the world. I wanna sleep in Jask's arms 😭)

Fandom: The WitcherPairing: Jaskier x ReaderWord Count: 2,454Rating: ETaglist: @heroics-and-heartbreak a/n: The other day I was thinking about how people will be like “I mean since you like tropes…” and then give me a delicious morsel of a prompt and I actually muttered “if you think you’re getting through this blog without a ‘there’s only one bed’ fic in here somewhere you don’t know who you’re messing with” BUT YOU KNOW EXACTLY WHO YOU’RE MESSING WITH DEAR READER AND I SALUTE YOU!

You were both exhausted by the time you reached the inn. The trek had taken longer than you anticipated, so long that even Jaskier went quiet, trying to conserve whatever energy he had left to focus on making it to the blessed respite of a warm bed. Jaskier went up to get your keys and when he came back and held out one you thought he must have dropped the other one and went back with him to get yours.

“We only have one room left,” the innkeeper explained.

“You know what that’s fine, it’s fine, come on Jask,” you said, waving at the innkeeper and steering your friend towards the stairs. Both of you woke up a bit when you walked into the room and found one bed.

“Oh.”

“Ah.”

The two of you stood awkwardly in the doorway for a moment and then Jaskier summoned up a smile and said, “I will take the floor, honestly I could sleep just as well there as anywhere else.”

“Don’t be stupid, you’ll take the bed,” you argued.

“No, no, you really need to get some rest,” he insisted.

“Look this is crazy we’ll just… both sleep on the bed,” you said, focusing intently on the wall above Jaskier’s head instead of looking him in the eyes as you offered.

“Well… I mean… It is a big bid,” he said, suddenly fixated on the rug you both stood on. You glanced back towards each other and laughed a little nervously.

“It’s just a bed,” you said, moving to pull off your boots.

“Right, of course,” he agreed, doing the same. You both disrobed quietly after that, turning away from each other to strip down to as little as possible before blindly fumbling towards the bed and pulling the blankets back. The awkwardness was forgotten as you both sank into the mattress uttering dueling groans of relief to be off of your feet and on something softer than the hard ground. You rolled to face each other, sleepy grins on both of your faces.

“This is fine,” you say reassuringly, trying to permanently banish any lingering sense of unease.

“That is easily the least enthusiastic response someone has had to being in a bed with me but I’ll take it,” Jaskier says with a wry smile. You shake your head and laugh, grateful for the dim candlelight that hides the blush that creeps over your cheeks as you begin to think about what being in bed with Jaskier usually entails. For some people. Other people.

“Goodnight Jaskier,” you say, turning around to blow out the candle.

“Goodnight Y/N,” he says as the room goes dark and smell of smoke tinges the air.

You both nestle into the bed, shifting into your usual positions and knock into each other accidentally, Jaskier’s arm wrapping around your neck and your ass pressing up against him in a bit of a couple of off-kilter spoons. You both murmur apologies and try to laugh, the nervous tension back in the room as you both silently agree that the best way to maneuver this is to just turn your backs on each other and face the walls. You lay in total silence for five agonizing minutes. You know the sound of Jaskier when he’s sleeping, the even rhythm of his breath when he’s resting and the occasional snores he would deny to his dying breath. He knows you aren’t asleep because he can feel your foot fidgeting, a reminder of how close you are but in so many ways how still so very far.

“Are you awake?” you ask finally.

“Yes, are you”” he asks. You scoff and you can feel and hear him flip over, the blanket letting in a little burst of cold air before he wraps it back down around him.

“Why is this so hard?” Jaskier asks, his voice much closer than you anticipated, so close you can feel his breath on the back of your neck.

“Something else you usually hear from people in bed with you?” you tease.

“If they have to ask either they’re far too humble or something has gone terribly wrong,” he replies. You bite your lip, wishing you hadn’t brought it up. Or wishing I could bring it up. You groan into your pillow.

“What’s going on over there? Talk to me,” Jaskier implores, his hand gently brushing back the hair that’s fallen into your face. You finally roll back around to face him. Though it’s dark you can see the outline of his features and he yours.

“I don’t know it just feels different. Not bad but… there’s something about a bed, you know?” you ask. You can tell he’s biting back several cheeky remarks but he just nods.

“But we’ve shared spaces much smaller than this one,” he says, “I don’t disagree with you, there is… something… about a bed…”

If you could see him clearly you’d see the way his eyes have fallen to your lips, the way his fingers rise up, itching to touch them, before he pulls them back and sighs frustratedly.

“Y’know statistically speaking people spend more time sleeping in beds than… other… activities,” You say, trying desperately to find a way to logic the awkwardness out of things.

“I may be an outlier in that study,” Jaskier says.

“Well I am a big sleeper,” you say, firmly barreling past that comment and trying to pretend your heart isn’t beating a bit faster and that you can’t feel his hand resting on the bed inches from your waist.

“Oh yeah? Sleep around a lot?” Jaskier asks. These are jokes you traded in the daytime but it wasn’t the daytime anymore and his works sounded fraught with meaning that you don’t want to believe you’re imagining. The hand by your waist inches a little closer and you move into it, eager to feel him even if just his fingertips through the fabric of your nightshirt.

“Can I just – ”

“Would it be – ”

“You go first,” Jaskier says.

“No, you,” you insist.

“I was going to say can I just… hold you? If that isn’t weird?” he asks.

“No! No I mean no it won’t be weird, yes hold me,” you say, tripping over the words. He sidles up closer to you and tucks your pillow over his left arm, pulling you in to rest your head there while his body aligns with yours, his right arm wrapping around your waist and his face burrowed in your hair. You sigh contentedly, your left hand taking his right.

“What were you going to say?” he whispers, face inches from your ear.

“Oh just… going to ask for this actually,” you say. His arms tighten around you in a way that would be painful if you didn’t crave it so much. You’d been trying to keep these feelings at bay, focusing on your friendship with Jaskier, the bard who smiled for all but received few in return. The man who was a friend to everyone but had few who would call him the same. But he was also the man who made your heart twist every time he smiled at you, who listened when you were upset and held you when you cried on your worst days. And somewhere along the way friendship turned to something different, not more, that would be a disservice to the love you felt for him as a friend, but definitely different. Harder to explain and deeply dangerous.

You felt him sigh heavily, the movement shifting your closely pressed bodies.

“You alright back there?” you asked, trying to keep your voice light.

“Yes, more than alright. We should have done this a long time ago,” he said.

“Oh?” you asked, hoping he didn’t notice the way your voice cracked at the word.

“Yes,” he said decisively, “You’re so very…”

Your heart pounded as your brain scrambled to anticipate the word he would say next. Loveable? Cuddle-able? Fuckable?

“Touchable,” he says, his voice growing soft as he whispers the word into the crook of your neck. The hand holding his tightens and you sigh heavily, the motion causing you to wriggle a bit against him and you hear him mutter “fuck” under his breath as you do.

“You ok?” you ask.

“Mmhmm,” he says, terribly unconvincingly. He’s pulling away a bit more, shifting awkwardly and you contrarily back up closer, eager to keep the cuddle going if that’s all you can have with him. When you press back up against him you can feel something new and Jaskier’s breath catches in his throat.

“Oh,” you breath.

“I’m sorry,” Jaskier murmurs, “You’re just so close and so soft and so you and… fuck.”

You wrapped your leg around his, leverage as you grind against him closer.

“What was that you were saying?” you ask. His hand lowers and grips the ass that’s planted right in his lap.

“You know what you’re doing,” he says accusatorily.

“I do. But what are you going to do about it?” you ask. You crane your neck to meet his eyes, close enough you can see the vibrant blue. Your lips are parted slightly in anticipation and you see Jaskier’s eyes fall to them mere seconds before he presses his against them, a kiss neither of you expected yet both of you had been waiting for far longer than you knew. His hand cups your face, and you turn your body to face him, giving you both greater access to each other’s bodies. He wraps both long legs around yours, using his whole body to touch every part of you can he reach. His hands snake up your thigh, up the opening of your nightdress to touch the soft skin of your waist, pawing at you with little grace and even less inhibition.

“Been wanting to do this for so long,” he says, the words coming out in gasps as he explores the sensitive skin on your collar bones and around your neck. You run your hands over his arms, enjoying the new parts of him to learn like the dip on his shoulder blade where muscle meets bone and the telltale goosebumps that follow in the wake of your touch. He crawls over you and you love the weight of him. He’s heavier than you expected but you can tell he’s trying to support some of his weight on the arm that grips the headboard. His mouth travels further, tracing the sensitive flesh of your breasts with his skillful tongue that elicits soft sighs and hitched gasps from your throat. You reach beneath him as he focuses on lavishing attention on you and wrap your hand around his cock. The mouth encircling your nipple bites down in surprise and you yelp, a strangled sound that is equal parts pleasure and surprise. He looks up at you and his expression sends a thrill of adrenaline through you. The more he touches you the hungrier he seems to get and you want nothing more than to sate his hunger in any way you can. Your grip tightens and but his moans are muffled as he keeps exploring your body with his mouth until he’s pulled far enough away that you can no longer touch him. He rests on his elbows, lifting up your thighs and pulling you in close. He looks up at you and you try to commit the sight of him between your legs to memory, wondering ever so briefly how much it would cost to commission a portrait of it when he slides a finger up the length of your slit, parting you with nimbly fingers. His fingers are quickly replaced with his tongue, his fingers digging into your thighs possessively to hold you still as you writhe beneath him. One hand tangles in his hair as the other grips the sheets on the bed, trying to anchor yourself. He’s merciless as he teases and provokes you, refusing to give pause long enough for you to catch your breath. He drives your first orgasm out of you with his mouth, the next with his fingers, determined to use every tool at his disposal in the pursuit of your pleasure. He slides back up the length of your body, kissing his way back up til his mouth meets yours again, his face damp and reddened and grinning with satisfaction but still hungry, your insatiable Jaskier.

“Hey,” he whispers, nudging your nose with his playfully.

“Hey,” you whisper back, brushing your lips against his still-smiling lips in the whisper of a kiss.

“I’m going to fuck you very hard and quicker than I’d like because I am very tired but I would never forgive myself if I fell sleep before I could feel your sweet, wet cunt wrapped around my cock. If you want,” he adds the last part casually as though his words don’t already have you trying to lift your body to meet his.

“I need to hear you say that you want it,” he says when you don’t say anything, distracted by the soft kisses he brushes against your lips.

“I want you,” you say, the words too small to contain the truth they hold, “I want you, Jaskier.”

He kisses you again, slower and deeper until he’s stolen your breath and then you feel him enter you, slowly though you can feel him tremble slightly as he tries to force himself to move cautiously to ensure he doesn’t hurt you. Once he’s buried himself fully in you, his face resting against your chest, his breathing labored and your hands gently stroking his hair. It’s a peaceful moment and then he draws himself back up, placing one hand on the headboard and the other on your shoulder, looking at you adoringly as he draws out of you slowly and thrusts back in so hard the bed shakes. He watches your face for signs of discomfort and you arch your back up against him, eager for more. He takes the cue, the eternal musician, and he fucks you harder, your moans collapsing into breathless gasps. You can’t tell if the words he says, beautiful and soft uttered through gritted teeth, are filthy or fawning but the sound of his voice is your undoing as it always has been, as you always knew it would be. He comes with your name on his lips and it is the sweetest song he’s ever sung.

You curl up together, sweaty and giggling, Jaskier’s mouth still kissing any patch of skin that comes near enough; your shoulder as you pull the blankets over him, your neck as you shift your hair out of the way, and you fall asleep wrapped around each other.

[jadewritings]

Rocky Road

Pairing: Sam and Dean Winchester x reader (ish)

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: Angst, blood, injuries, language

Author’s Note: I hope you all enjoy this one shot loool we love protective doggos

The night was quiet, save for the crickets hiding about the grass and trees. People lay sound in their beds, maybe dreaming of things that make them happy. Everything seemed to right with the world. But not everyone believed that, not everyone had seen what you’d seen, what you’d fought.

You knew what waited in the shadows, waiting for that perfect moment to snatch their prey. And you couldn’t stand by and not help. Your parents brought you up into this world. The world no one knew. Monsters, every nightmare someone dreamed about, read about, were actually real.

But you couldn’t do it alone, you had a companion. When your parents died, it was just you and Rocky, your best friend you’d grown up with. Your first hunt together was the catalyst to everything y’all do now. Rocky was hurt that first hunt but a trip to the vet got him better. Now he was well trained and knew to listen to commands.

You whistled a bird call that signaled to Rocky to sniff out the area. His snout was the ‘super sniffer’ as you liked to call it. The two of you were steaking out a vamp nest. Not that big but there has been enough murders to do something about it.

You stepped out of your truck, machete in hand and gun in your waist band with deadman’s blood infused wooden bullets. You weren’t stupid, you knew a regular gun wouldn’t put a dent in them, so you had altered it. You walked around the abandoned building and saw Rocky sat next to a poorly chained door.

“Good boy, Rocks.” You whispered, while handing him a small treat. “Now stay here for a second okay?” You looked behind yourself at Rocky as you started to squeeze under the chains. His tongue hung out of his mouth and his lips pulled back like he was smiling. It caused you to smile, “I love you, boy.”

When you got through, you could hardly see. The room was dark but there was no missing the metallic stench. This place was a blood bath.

You stepped carefully before pulling out your pocket flashlight to see where you were going. Each room was empty and you started to get a chill down your spine. You tried to ease your racing heart, knowing if you were to panic even for a second you could die.

“Boss is thinking about turning people instead of just keeping them for food.” You hid quickly in the nearest doorway and clicked your flashlight off. A bald guy and a woman stopped at the corner you were about to round.

“Why, we’ve been doing just fine with us 7?” The girl asked.

“Rach, you know hunters are bound to find us. We need the numbers.”

The girl sighed and you could hear them start to walk away. You poked your head out and continued on when the coast was clear.

You stopped at a set of double doors, very medieval styled. You took a deep breath and shrugged your shoulders, “If shits gonna happen, shits gonna happen.” You repeated your mantra before busting through the door with your foot.

You readied your gun in anticipation but was left with a quiet room save for the noise you made busting in.

“What the hell?” You didn’t lower your gun but were definitely taken off guard. You walked forward to a long table in the center of the room, pools of blood dripping off the sides. You looked around, cautious, but still nothing.

“So much for a dramatic entrance.” You huffed a laugh to yourself. Before you could react, you were tossed over the table and into the wall behind it, your gun flung from your hand.

You groaned and rubbed your back before getting up and taking your machete out to look at your attackers.

You recognized them, “Oh well hello again. You two lovebirds done with your quarrel I take it?” You smiled and raised your eyebrows at the two vampires you’d saw walking in the hall. They hissed and bared their fangs.

You grimaced, “Have you ever brushed those things? They’re lookin pretty gnarly.” They jumped over the table and raced at you. You dodged the girl to your left, a clean slice through her neck took care of her. The guy looked angry and ran at you, knocking the machete to the ground and pinned you to the ground. With your arms held firmly to the ground you couldn’t move. The vampire leaned down to take a bite out of your neck.

You turned to the door just as Rocky barked at you, “Rocks!” You yelled. He rushed at the guy and was effective in distracting him. Rocky jumped and bit the vampires neck. You took the opportunity to shove him off of you but the vamp flung Rocky into the wall and his attention was instantly back on you.

“No!” You cried out when you heard him whimper. The vamp rushed at you again and slammed your head into the concrete wall. As hard as you struggled, you couldn’t keep your focus on anything other than your dog.

The pressure of being held loosened and the head fell from the vamps shoulders. You slid down the wall and crawled the rest of the way to Rocky without paying attention to your savior.

You sniffled, “Rocky, Rocks? It’s okay,” you stroked his fur as he whimpered, “you’re gonna be okay, alright? We’ll get you to a vet and you’ll be all fixed up again okay?”

You heard a voice clear their throat behind you and for once you turned to your savior, or, saviors.

Two tall and handsome strangers. One was blonde and shorter than the other brunette one which held the machete that saved your ass. You stood and raised your weapon to them, “Stay back or I swear to god I’ll behead you too.” 

The blonde raised his hands in surrender but your vision went sideways and your head throbbed. You groaned as you put your hand to your forehead. The next thing you heard was the clink of the machete on the ground and your body feeling like it was falling forward before you blacked out.

Before you knew it, you were waking up in a bed of a motel that definitely didn’t look like yours. You sprung up, holding a hand to your throbbing head. Groaning, your eyes scanned the room looking for Rocky.

He was on the bed next to yours, bandages wrapped tightly around his abdomen. You swung your legs over the bed just as the motel door opened.

The brunette you had a vague memory of stepped inside, shutting the door behind him, giving you a tight lipped smile.

“How are you feeling?”

You were cautious, slowly moving over to your dogs side. You remembered they had saved you but still, a lot of people didn’t always have good intentions.

“I’m fine.” Your only response before the shower you didn’t notice was on till now had turned off.

“My name is Sam. My brother in there is Dean. You have no obligation to trust us but we’re truly only helping you.” He must have noticed the way your eyes narrowed and your body tensed when he got closer.

He held out a brown paper bag, full of medical supplies for both human and animal, once you took a look inside. Dean stepped out of the bathroom, dressed in a blue t-shirt and plaid pajama pants.

He looked up and between the two of you, before reaching into the mini fridge and handed you a water.

“Thanks.” You mumbled. You gulped some down before letting yourself relax on the bed. You curled onto your left side, slowly stroking Rocky’s fur as he slept.

The room filled with silence, making it unbearable to hold in the tears. You sniffled. It was a simple job. Rocky didn’t have to get hurt yet you still allowed it to happen. He was supposed to stay outside until you were done and had handled the job. But here he was, injured, because of you.

“You know,” Sam started, breaking the silence, “He came to us.”

That made you look at them. You rubbed your eyes of the tears, “What?”

That prompted Dean to speak, “We heard him barking. He ran at us and we followed. If it wasn’t for him, we wouldn’t have made it to you in time.” Dean gave you a small smile before looking to Rocky.

That made you feel a little better.

“Thank you. You know, for saving me- and Rocky.”

“It was our pleasure, sweetheart.” Dean’s soft smile made your heart beat just a little faster. Who knew? Maybe you’d get over hunting alone.

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[elysiashelby]

In Another World - T. Shelby Imagine Ch. 3

Paring: (Eventual) Thomas Shelby x Aliena Welsh (OC)

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Word Count: 4,010

WARNINGS: Cursing, Attempted R*pe scene, Deliberate Intoxication of a Character 

Summary: Aliena Welsh has been living in the universe of the show Peaky Blinders for 6 months now. She has proper pay and she thinks she regained some normalcy in another world. However, trouble has struck the Shelby’s and Thomas has plans for her. Will she remain safe as he’s promised her?

MASTERLIST  CHAPTER TWO  CHAPTER 3.2

A/N: So, I forgot to add something very important. I am not from Liverpool. I do not know the proper way scousers talk. I’ve done some research and watched movies, but I will not advocate that it’s perfect. If y’all want it gone, it will be gone. PAY ATTENTION TO THE WARNINGS!!

It's been six months. I'm kind of an official part of the Shelby family. People part the streets for me and greet me. I'm paid two pounds, but John gives me a couple shillings whenever I go home for the day. I have no clue how much I make. I don’t exactly have enough time in me day to count up all me savings right now. I’m being led by the reins like a horse. 

I have a little routine now and what can I say? It gives me peace! Sometimes- I have to admit, there'll be nights where I had cried about not being with me own family. However, it's not like I have the mental capacity to try and change my current situation, so I'm rolling with the punches. 

I was folding clothes in the living room when Thomas bursted through the doors. 

"I'm calling a family meeting for tonight, 8." Thomas said and then pointed at me. "Aliena, be there. Okay? Okay." Then, he walked right back out. From the distant slam of a door, I knew he had gone into his office. 

I looked to Polly who was already staring at me. 

"That fucking boy! Do you know what's goin' on, Ali?"

I shook me head, furiously. 

She just sighed and said. "I guess we're finding out tonight. Finish folding, love, then come help me with dinner."

"Okay, Pol."

As I was folding, all I could focus on was me anticipation. I wanted time to move faster.

I knew the information wasn't about me lies. If he had wanted to confront me about that he would have done it privately or only in the audience of Polly. It wasn't 1919 meaning that season one hasn't begun yet. So, maybe it has something to do about Thomas fixing races? No, that's right! He didn't tell anyone about it! Wonder what it's gonna be then?

Eight rolled around and the family was waiting for Thomas to start. I was over by the doors blocking Finn from geggin' in. 

"Right, I called this family meeting because we got a problem. This problem's name is Harry Chadwick. He's been seen following us and our men around. It would seem that he's a new small time copper looking to make a promotion. Now, some of you are wondering why I invited Aliena to this meeting and I'll get to that in a second. I am going to meet with Chadwick in 3 days time." 

Roars of outrage poured from the family. 

"I am going to meet with him! I told him that I got information on Billy Kimber, and that I'm willing to do a stitch on him in exchange to keep quiet about our doings. I've discovered that Mr. Chadwick frequents Mr. Zhang's brothel whenever he gets tired of spying on the lot of us. Mr. Zhang told me that he preferred his… women on the younger side." Thomas looked at me and I instantly knew his plan. 

I swallowed harshly before looking back down at me feet. A million thoughts went into me head. 

‘Was this a test? Is this me proving me loyalty? What if I go through with it, and he doesn't stop him in time? Why would he do this to me?’

"Like hell, Thomas! She's just a girl!" Polly yelled while gesturing toward me. 

Thomas nodded in response. "Yes, Polly. She's a girl, who'll catch that bastard's attention! Now, if you'd let me finish! I was gonna tell you that I plan on killing 'em. She'll just be a distraction, and I'll let no harm come to her." The look in his eyes was intense. It was almost like he was trying to telepathically reassure me. 

‘This is a test. This is a test about loyalty, I just know it is.’

Polly and Thomas started arguing while I debated over it. 

I sighed. "I'll do it."

They stopped fighting. 

"What?" Polly asked, looking at me with disbelief written in her face. 

"I'll do it." I repeated with a clearer voice and me head held high. Thomas and I stared at each other until he gave me a nod. 

"There you have it, Pol. She made her choice. She's a big girl." 

Polly scoffed and began fighting with him again. I listen to John bud in and then Arthur shortly. I heard them, but it was like white noise. I was breathing quicker. But just as soon as I was consciously aware of the fact, I held me breath for a while and relaxed meself. The way me brain worked would never let meself freak out in me entirety. I've never experienced a complete panic attack. I always had the strength to snap meself out of it. That didn't mean that the effects went away any quicker. In fact, I knew this feeling of dread would follow me until we were actually enacting his plan.  

I let meself out without, being like, allowed to. That night I didn't sleep. I just pondered over the grim possibilities that could occur three nights from now. 

It was finally the day, and I am terrified. I was allowed to sleep in. I woke up around 10 in the morning. I ate breakfast and lunch that wasn't made by me, and then Polly told me that she had prepared a bath. I was to scrub meself spotless and shave. 

As if I was really a prostitute. 

On the flip side, this body of mine didn't have your common body hair. I had no hair on me body except for me private part, me eyebrows, and well- me hair. See I hated having body hair with a passion, so it was nice having smooth legs with no stubble. 

Polly kept talking to me as if I were a child. She kept reassuring me that Thomas would never let anything happen to me. It was nice to see her worrying about me as if I were her daughter. Some days it really felt like that. After the bath, I was dressed in garments that were really rather in its best condition. It seemed like silk. I put it on with no protest. Polly even tried helping me with that. Then she went on to do me hair. It was beautiful, really. She put me hair in a bun with a single braid. Me hair framed me face just how I liked it.

She did me makeup next. I wanted to stop her, but I didn't have the heart to. I looked in the mirror and admired her work. The foundation didn't match me skin tone. It made me appear whiter than I was. But this was how women did it in this era, and I thought I still looked pretty. I smiled at meself even though I wished we were doing this under better circumstances. 

Finally, the dress. It was a dark, maybe, navy blue. It's sleeves reached to me elbows, and it was a rather loose dress. I'm so used to wearing tighter one's than this one, feels like a sleeping gown.

"You look absolutely beautiful. Oh, look at you! Just like a dream." Polly said with her hands together in a prayer against her lips.

She rushed to me and rubbed me arms up and down. "Tommy won't let anything happen to you, Aliena. After this, I'll make sure you'll never be in this side of the business again. You'll just be taking care of the kids and doing the chores again, I promise! No more Peaky Blinder business." 

I nodded. "Okay, Polly." I put on a grin while smoothing out the dress. 

I was only allowed a few moments to meself before Thomas shouted for me. 

"We better get down there then. Quicker we get it down, the sooner you both come home." She said as she pulled the door open and led me down.

As we were doing down the stairs, the three Shelby brothers were talking at the bottom of it. Upon hearing our heels, their gazes snapped on me. I noticed Thomas was wearing his usual suits, nothing out of the ordinary. 

"Ain't she a sight!" Arthur yelled. 

"Ali, you look absolutely beautiful. I think I'm fallin' in love!" John yelled. 

I scoffed and shook me head. "Thank you, Arthur. And John, shut your trap." I was able to slap him across the chest. 

He flinched, quite dramatically, while snickering. But then this hush of silence washed over us, and it was like we were all waiting for what Thomas had to say. 

Thomas cleared his throat and muttered. "Come on, then." He extended his elbow for me and I took it. 

We said our goodbyes then left. It was weird being in the passenger side of a car in the UK. American cars were different. I'm so used to being on the opposite side. As he drove, I took in the views. I loved car rides so much! God, I missed this. 

"I'm sure you already know this, but I know you're lying to us." Thomas said while taking a drag. "You don't have a birth certificate, no record of any sort. I couldn't even find your father's war record. So, even though you are a hard worker, you've lied to us. After this… If you do it well and complete what needs to be done, I'll let your lies slip and accept you into this family."

Me heart was beating in my ears. Me face was hot. "Okay, Thomas." I whispered. After that, it was quiet for a while. 

Then, Thomas broke it. "So, do you, maybe, want to tell me the truth?"

I scoffed, looking out the window. Even though there really wasn’t one. "You wouldn't even believe me." 

I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t fully anticipate him investigating me. I just thought it would be normal for a girl to show up with no papers. I was caught in a blag and like a brat, I wanted this conversation to be done with.

"Try me."

I don't know if I could contain my annoyance. 

How the fuck could I explain it to him when I didn't understand this situation much meself! If I did tell him the truth, I figure he'll get me thrown in an asylum. 

I went to massage me eyes, but then remembered that they had makeup on ‘em, so I slapped me hands on me thighs. 

"Well, I'm not from here. At all! I'm from another universe or Earth. To me, you and your family are characters on a TV show called Peaky Blinders. Do you believe me?" I revealed to him while staring out the window. I couldn’t bear to face him.

He didn't answer for a good solid 5 minutes. "Well, it has to be that. Or, you lied about your dad being in the war and your family avoided records with home births. That you're Gypsy kin ‘cause there have been too many times that you have looked like you know something I don't, and being a Gypsy would explain that. So, yeah, I believe you." 

I pursed me lips while leaning my head on me fist as I leaned my arm on the window. 

'He doesn't believe me. A blessing in disguise.'

"Yep, you got me. So why don't you tell me what we're really going to this bloke's house for? I know it's not for the bullshit you spat at the meeting." 

Thomas squinted his eyes at me. "How did you know I lied?"

I rolled me eyes. "Since Billy Kimber came out your mouth. What does Mr. Chadwick have to do with you planning to fix races?"

I turned me head to him and stared. His head was down, eyes on the floor of the car. His eyes darting back and forth rapidly. His Adam's apple bobbed and he said, "He's got something I need to actually fix those races. He's not a cop. But he does want information on Kimber and I'm going to feed him false information. Not like he'll be able to check, though."

While gazing at me fingernails, I hummed. "Thank you for your candor, Thomas."

After that, we didn't talk. When we pulled up to the house, he got out and then walked over to my side. I took his arm like before and we walked to the door. It wasn't a mansion, but it was a nice house. A maid opened the door and told us that we had been expected. We were led to a room that must have been the lounge area. There was a bar at the far right side and a pool table in the middle, but the room was still small. 

"Ah, Mr. Shelby! So, good to see you!" Mr. Chadwick had to be the most stereotypical pedophile I've ever seen. 

Mentally, I was giving meself a prayer and hoping that my discomfort was not showing on me face.  

Thomas greeted him back. They shook hands and that's when creepy decided to lock eyes on me. 

"Why, Mr. Shelby! Who is this enchanting young lady?" I watched as his hand slipped from Thomas' hand and reached for mine. 

I reluctantly gave him me hand to shake when he clasped both of his hands over mine and started to stroke it. I could feel the muscles in me face ache, so I knew I was still smiling. 

"This is Ali. She works for me Aunt." Thomas replied. 

Mr. Chadwick greeted me, but it's like I knew that he was trying to make it sound sensual. I wanted to die! I just gave him one back and he finally dropped me hand. 

"Well, enough with the pleasantries! Let's negotiate." Mr. Chadwick said as he walked over to his desk. 

We all gathered around the desk when Mr. Chadwick offered drinks. Thomas and I both declined and sat down. After that, they dove straight into business talk. As much as it hurts me pride, I couldn't follow what they were saying. So all I did was pretend to be engaged. I smiled whenever his eyes lined up to mine. I tilted me head to the side to, I guess, show off me neck. Other times, I raised me chest and used other cues to get his attention towards my tits. 

"You know what, Mr. Shelby, the agreement was set upon me getting rid of the information I have on your family. But not on yourself. How about you let me have her and we call it a deal?" Mr. Chadwick said while looking me up and down like I was fucking scran!

Thomas cleared his throat saying, "You're goin' to have to be more specific. I can't let you have her forever. She's my Aunt's employee. So, the most I could offer is an hour."

Mr. Chadwick scoffed. "The rest of the night."

"45 minutes." 

"3 hours."

"1 hour."

"Hour and a half." 

"Deal." 

They rose and shook hands. I wanted to show me disgust. I felt absolutely nauseated. I just felt this pit in me stomach grow more and more. 

Thomas placed his hand on me shoulder and I looked up at him. He nodded and said. "I'll be out in the hall."

"You can have my maid entertain you, Mr. Shelby!" 

Thomas had already walked out of the room. I huffed. Me gaze went to the bar. 

"Do you fancy a drink, Ali?" He asked me. 

I got up from me chair. I was shaking. I just knew I had to look like Bambi when he was learning how to walk. "I could go for something. A glass of water would be fine." I said while tucking a strand of me hair behind me ear. 

Mr. Chadwick laughed as he walked over to his bar. "I think you're gonna want something stronger than water, dear. Ever try gin?"

I shook me head. "No. No, I haven't. Water's just fine." I slowly walked closer to him. He was behind the bar as he poured the drinks. But he managed to quickly stride toward me. He handed me me drink and I took a gulp of it. The cold water was refreshing, but I couldn't help but notice he was staring at me while I drank the water. 

I wanted to furrow me eyebrows at him, but instead I gave him a smile. 

"So, how old are you, Ali?"

"16."

"Your accent, you're a scouser, aren’t cha?"

"Yes, sir, born and raised."

He hummed after that. I just awkwardly held the glass in me hand while shifting from one foot to the other. 

"How did you meet, Mr. Shelby?"

"Uh, I was looking for a job and one of his brother's kids were out playing on the street. I managed to keep… him calm enough to get him… home. Apparently…, that was like… a miracle and… I was offered… a job. " I was feeling dizzy and it was getting harder to breathe. 

I held me hand up while I pressed the hand holding de’ water against me chest. The glass was colder than I thought. " 'm… sorry. I… really need… to get some… air!" I went to turn away from ‘em when he grabbed me and pulled me to him. 

I gasped for breath. I whimpered as he placed his forehead on mine. 

He whispered. "God, you're so cute. Look how short you are and those tits. You've been wanting me all night. Don't try to deny it, you little minx. I bet you're all wet and ready for me." He started to nip and kiss me neck which made me flinch. 

'I can't breathe. I can't breathe!' 

Me legs soon gave out and he rushed us to the pool table. The pain the shot through me back as the table dug into me hips made me wince. He lifted me up ‘n sat me down on it, and me body fell limply on the table. The glass of water slipped out of me hand, but it didn’t fall since it didn’t make a sound. 

I limply attempted hitting him, kicking him! They were weak hits. They barely did anything to him. I knew they were annoying him, though. 

I kept trying to scream at the top of me lungs, but all that came out were hoarse whispers. I knew this feeling, familiar with it and I still hated it. 

He stopped fiddling with his belt, grabbed me arms, pinned them down. "Stay fucking still!" 

He kept me hands pinned and me head lopped to the side. Me gaze was on the doors from where Thomas and I entered. Me vision was getting blurrier with me tears. I took a deep loud breath and choked on a sob. I heard his belt fall to the ground. 

"Tommy." I chanted. I kept saying his name. I felt him start to shimmy up me dress 'til I felt all of me legs exposed. Me heart was beating faster than ever. Something just clicked as I screamed, "Tommy!" 

And like a fucking hero, he bursted through the doors and shot the bastard. The guy groaned as he fell to the ground, and a second shot rang throughout the room. 

I stopped crying, but realized I really was paralyzed since I couldn’t pick meself back up. Me adrenaline was going down, and I just wanted to go to sleep. I heard Tommy’s thundering footsteps as he ran to me. I felt as he tugged down me dress, and then picked up me torso by me armpits. He stroked me face. I thought it was a caring touch, but realized he was probably wiping the tears. 

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I was late, Aliena." Thomas whispered. His face was red and his jaw clenched.

I tried to tell him, "Nothing happened yet. So you weren't late." It fell on deaf ears.

He shook his head. "I was late…" He tugged me a little forward and then carried me bridal-style. 

I heard a faint crunch that was familiar to glass. 

'Huh! Maybe it was the glass falling that actually alerteded him and not my supposed shout.'

As we walked out, I saw the maid dead on the floor as well as a butler that was near the front door. He carried me to the passenger seat and laid me down then left. I was really fucking uncomfortable, but I still wanted to go to sleep. I let me eyelids flutter shut. 

"Oi, Aliena! Aliena, wake up! Wake up." Thomas shouted at me while tapping my face. 

I whimpered loudly but opened me eyes nonetheless. 

"Attagirl! Good girl, Aliena. Now, we're going home. Okay?" Tommy wrapped his free arm around me shoulder and me face was tucked into his side. His touch was comforting. His slow strokes on me back reminded me of me ma’. This made me start crying again to the point where I was sobbing uncontrollably. 

"Almost there, Ali. You're alright now. Fuck!" Our bodies jolted as Tommy struck the steering wheel. 

The cold night wind was refreshing. I tried focusing on that. I wanted to just curl up, sleep, and be able to get over it tomorrow. I'll get over it tomorrow. 

I wanted to enjoy this moment as I snuggled up to Thomas Shelby, but I couldn't! 

I always wanted to know what his cologne smells like and now I still wouldn’t know since my nose is stuffy ‘n runny.

Me sobs turned into sniffles and it took sometime before we actually made it back to the house. It was a series of Tommy keeping me awake and me crying about it. 

Tommy carried me out of the car and ran up to the door. He started pounding on it 'til Pol opened the door. 

She gasped and shouted. "What-!"

Tommy didn't let her finish. He rushed past her and sat me down on the couch. Me body was still limp, so me head fell back and me arms slumped to me sides. 

"What the hell, Thomas! You said nothing would happen!"

"There were more people in his house than I thought and got held up. He didn't manage to do anything to her yet, but he drugged her." 

"Fucking christ! Make sure she doesn't fuckin’ fall asleep! She needs to drink water."

Polly's last comment got to me. It reminded me of me ma’ getting me milk when I was too high. I started to chuckle and tried asking them for milk. Tommy leaned his ear close to me mouth and then shouted for milk instead. I was still laughing, but it came out breathily. 

I could hear Polly yell for Arthur and I tried following her voice but that meant turning my head. Which made me close me eyes. Tommy tugged me face where it originally was and ordered me to stay awake. I attempted to stick me tongue out at him. 

Aunt Polly came back. She put a wet cold towel on me head and put the straw in me mouth. I instantly started drinking it. 

"Slowly, love." Polly whispered as she started to wipe me face and neck with the towel. "Slowly, love."

When I was done having a drink, I tried lifting up me arms and it happened very slowly. I slowly pushed the cup away from me. I didn't really realize that it was Tommy holding it. 

"I don't blame you." I tried saying. 

Polly sucked on her teeth. "Her fucking speech is slurred." By the end of her sentence, her voice was shaking. They fretted over me for a while until Polly said that she was going to have me be in warm water. 

Thomas and Arthur helped me up the stairs. In the end, Polly was the only one in my room. She undressed me and helped me into the water. I could honestly say the water woke me up!

When I got most of me motor functions back, Polly got me out, helped me get dressed, tucked me into bed, and I fell asleep.

TAG LIST: @amirahiddleston​ @nemesis729​

[bbnibini]

PSISLY: An Obey Me!CYOA – fifty-eight🔖

{ OPEN STATUS : YES

> approved

> displaying capture targets

Mammon: 85♡/100♡

Satan: 85♡/100♡

Barbatos: 0♡/100♡

Lucifer: 5♡/100♡

@#&)(@)€RR0Я : ∞??!@????♡/10000000000♡

CLOSE STATUS : YES

>approved }

[ Let him sleep for a bit more. ]

(Satan’s affection -5)

You suppose a few minutes on the snooze button wouldn’t hurt anyone. Satan had been working hard in the student council and barely had any time to take care of himself. Adrenaline also does marvellous things to someone in precarious situations. He may scold you about it later, but he’s rather cute when he’s angry anyway (totally worth it). Excuses continued to pile in your head as 2 minutes had passed—a poke on his cheek, then a whisper on his ear only earned you his half-asleep nuzzling on the hand that prodded him to wake up.

“Satan…” Almost a whisper. There was temptation in your thought, some mischievous nickname you’ve been wanting to call him urging to be uttered. Holding back a laugh, you strained your ears to the sound of the warning bell, keenly aware.

“Kitten~” An annoying tone that sounded similar to the sugary enunciation of Levi’s many waifus. Satan hated the fake accent with a burning passion. Deep green eyes squinted at you, now awake—a frown on his face.

“Your voice is fine the way it is.” He muttered (rather annoyed). Minor complaints is always a good sign of complete consciousness; you just hoped the extended sleep lessened his fatigue. “You should have woken me up.”

“I tried.” You took his outstretched hand and stood up, dusting your pants. “Will we make it?”

“No, but the janitor should still be around.” He said, matter-of-fact and checked his DDD. “I already texted Beel we’re going to be a little late.”

“Not Asmo—oh.”

Satan sighed. “He should really stop partying. Exams are nearing.”

“Maybe Solomon is tutoring him?”

“Makes sense. Oh, there’s the janitor.”

You have no idea how Satan does it. Even the surly RAD janitor looked almost cheerful when he was talking to him. In your weeks of being in that weird, unlabelled relationship with him, you went to several dates that you were vaguely aware of being impossible to book or access. But no. It always turns out he’s friends with the owner, the owner’s wife or the owner’s son’s friend’s favourite aesthetician or some variation. You weren’t the most sociable person you know, but his charismatic pull on people was influencing you as well. Positively. Asmo had noted that you were smiling more, you were easier to talk to, more patient and understanding, even earning Lucifer’s praise. The “understanding” you was wise enough not to gloat about it to your favourite (read: only) Avatar of Wrath. He may have mellowed down on his Lucifer Complex, but it didn’t mean that it was completely gone.

“What were we talking about before?” He asked you with a smile as he jogged over to you.

You smiled back. In the back of your mind, you couldn’t help but think:

I’m glad you’re the one I like.

With how he squeezed your hand and chuckled at your side, you were sure you said your thoughts out loud.

Oh well. Maybe you wanted to be heard.

💌💌💌

Walking home was pleasant. Stars illuminated the sky amidst Devildom’s eternal darkness. The few conversations with Satan had been mundane, but comfortable. A promise of Lucifer’s rare dinners was intriguing, but you pretended to take no interest in it for your pouting companion’s sake. The only dead air you had was understandable: final exams were often not a very favourable topic, even to one as studious as Satan. He offered to teach you instead of answering Lucifer’s impossible reviewers and you readily agreed, bias be damned. Satan laughed at your antics.

“By the way, I kept your gift in a vase.” You said, swinging your intertwined hands as you walked along the pavement, pacing yourself with his strides. You knew he could walk a lot faster (he had long legs AND he’s a lot taller than you), but he seemed to be thinking the same way. You felt your face warm at the thought.

“Oh? I’d love to see it. Maybe we can study in your room after dinner.”

“Really?!” You couldn’t help but exclaim. “Studying with you is soooo much better. I could barely understand Lucifer’s notes T_T.”

Dinner was ready when you arrived, but it seems that Lucifer’s sermons had become your appetiser instead. You pretended to listen along, with Satan following suit. At least the fancy French-named meal you had that you couldn’t even spell was delightful.

“Don’t rush now—we’ve just eaten!”

Satan’s warning fell on deaf ears as you dragged him along, giddy and excited to show him his gift that brought you together.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Or so it should be.

“Huh?”

You looked around your room, seeing your personal belongings in a clutter. You just tidied up your desk this morning so it doesn’t make sense.

“Is something wrong?”

Satan was concerned over your sudden paleness. “It’s not here…” A whisper, echoing louder as you repeated (by his request). “Your gift…it’s not here.” You showed him the empty glass vase; the corner of your eyes wet with tears. “It was here just this morning…” You started to tremble, and Satan held you gently in his arms to soothe you. “I changed the water often, and…and made sure it gets enough light. I even asked Asmo to help me! But…I lost it!” Your vision was getting blurry as Satan pried the vase away from your hands. He felt really warm, and his familiar cologne made you comfortable enough to air out your complaints.

“I can buy you a new one.” He said, kissing the top of your head. “I’m sure you really took care of it. I believe you, dearest.”

“T-then…”

“Shh, it’ll be fine.” He loosened the hug and wiped your tears with his thumbs. The kind way he smiled at you was almost unfair. “I think I have an idea on where it went, actually.”

He was still holding you as you sat on your bed, fiddling with his DDD. He did not speak, but he didn’t let go either and even stroked your head occasionally.

“Satan?”

“Mhm?”

You nuzzled his chest and sighed. “You’re really not angry at me?”

“For what?” He turned to you, as if the thought never crossed his mind.

“Nevermind,” It was difficult not to let it get to you. Even if he said he wasn’t blaming you for the misplaced flowers, it was still your responsibility to take care of them. “No…that’s wrong. I shouldn’t…keep secrets from you.” You scrambled over your words, noticing he already put his phone down and stopped frowning. You had his undivided attention, and he was clearly concerned over how...sad you are. You decided to tell him how you feel. “It really mattered a lot to me,” you explained, and looked up at him. “And, I feel bad I lost it. And feel even worse I’m overreacting—“

!!!

His lips were soft against yours—gentle and almost feather soft. You returned his kisses with your cheeks warm, and (you) laughably out of breath. He only smiled at you as your lips parted, your foreheads leaning against each other’s.

“It just means you love me.” He said as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, ironically followed by a more doubtful, “You do love me, don’t you?”

You couldn’t help but laugh in reply, his anticipated “Of course.”

Content with your answer, he pressed his lips against your forehead, a generous supplier of kisses and affection compared to his prim and proper self. “Just making sure.” Then again, that was typical Satan behind closed doors.

“Your culprit should have been apprehended by now.”

“Eh?”

“Surely you have some suspects in mind. Or maybe suspect is a more accurate moniker for him.”

You do admit that you had some dark thoughts looming about. And even if you were fond of the demon in question, there was disappointment there also, betrayal if you’re being dramatic enough. “Must he really time his heist when Lucifer is around?”

“You’re way too nice, you know.” He said. “You’re spoiling him too much.”

His jealousy may be cute to you, but you were concerned about Mammon right now. Standing up, you wiped your eyes and jogged over to the bathroom sink.

“I hope Lucifer didn’t hang him upside down...” You said out loud as you washed your face to remove the puffiness of your eyes. Satan waited for you outside the door and shook his head. You splattered some water in your rush and wet a portion of your clothes in the process. “I’m fine now!”

“Your appearance says otherwise.” Satan, an eyewitness to your tears thoughtfully recounted to you.

“!!!”

“Still cute though.”

You puffed your cheeks and made light punches on his chest. “Let’s go down before something bad happens.”

He didn’t budge. Instead, he looked at you with a smirk.

“What if I want something to happen?”

"Sataaaaaan.”

He made a tsk sound, but let himself be pulled along this time.

This time is the nick of time.

“IT’S YOUUUUU!!! YA GOT TO HELP ME!”

…for Mammon looked at you as if you were an oasis in the middle of a desert. The blaring heat of the sun, which was the irate firstborn, already had a rope in hand, and the dunes, which were the passive onlookers that were his brothers (most of them; Asmo was visibly absent) only looked at the sight as if it were a typical day.

His pleading eyes were too pitiful to ignore. Satan already promised to give you a replacement bouquet, and isn’t this punishment a little too harsh?

“It’s okay, Lucifer.” Your words caused most of the brothers to express their disapproval. “It’s no harm done.” You mustered up your best smile to make your point. However, they only seemed to frown even further upon seeing your expression.

“You’re the worst Mammon,” said Levi, your ever supportive best friend who seemed to have forgiven your recent blunders.

“They’re clearly not okay,” added Belphie, clutching his cow pillow to his person.

“It looks like you made them cry,” or so you thought what Beel said. You couldn’t really be sure because he was talking with his mouth full.

“I can confirm.” Satan glared at Mammon and held you close to him. “I had to calm them down since they were crying so much. Clearly it’s more than just a gift to them.”

No. But you really are fine!

“GUYS-“

“I understand why you’re trying to defend Mammon, but you are obviously upset about the situation.” Lucifer finally spoke after his long moment of silence. “Your smiles are forced, and you’re going back to your old habits again.” Habits? Before you could ask him what he meant, he continued speaking.

“He had already sold it, and it could never be returned, along with its sentimental value. If he would not be punished or reprimanded for his actions, then he will only do this again, all because you tolerate him. And before you open your mouth, I am not done talking.” Lucifer put the rope down and let Mammon go. “Would a lighter punishment suffice?”

Mammon, who was about to make a run for it, was blocked by a concerned Beel who placed him back on the hot seat. It reminded you of police investigations—only that the said “culprit” did not have any chair or table to sit on, and the fluorescent lightbulb hanging overhead was instead a fancy chandelier in the common room. Mammon looked at you again with pleading eyes.

You really could not ignore him!

“What kind of punishment?” You tried to smile at Mammon, relieved to see he looked a lot less tense with you as his backup.

“He hasn’t even apologised to you yet.” (Levi)

Incensed, Mammon shouted. “Well, how can I when y’all are talkin’ over me?!” He turned to you. “Look, I’m sorry, okay? I needed quick cash and didn’t have any choice! I didn’t know it meant somethin’ to ya!”

.

.

.

.

.

.

Wrong answer.

“Get the rope, Beel.” (Belphie)

“Tie him up nice and tight—no maybe I should, as I was the one who purchased their gift anyway.” (Satan)

“Children.” Boomed Lucifer’s voice in the common room, holding Mammon by the shoulder. There was a terrifying glare in his eyes, a cold atmosphere about him that you could feel though you were standing across from him, protected by Satan’s own warmth. Thank Satan. No, hail Satan.

“As you can already tell, remorse is an alien term to him. Expecting any from Mammon is impossible.” Second-hand embarrassment perhaps? There was definitely shame there with intent of inflicting bodily harm. You heard Mammon yelp in pain as Lucifer’s gloved fingers dug into his clavicle, intent on not letting him go. Mammon was understandably skittish. Everyone except you seemed to have him on their hit list, and you were not in the most stable state of mind at the moment to defend him properly. In fact, the harder you tried, the angrier his brothers become. If he weren’t in this situation, he would have reacted the same way.

“…however,” Lucifer continued, the already bone-chilling atmosphere becoming even more ominous as his lips curved up into a smile. “Out of respect for your affections for my dear little brother, I shall modify my punishment into a more…productive one.”

“Productive?” you parroted.

“Ahh, of course. By productive, I meant academically productive.” Mammon’s face paled at the firstborn’s words. “As long as he scores 75% and above in all of his tests, I will let this little incident slide. Any lower than that, and he will get the rope AND clerical work for a month.”

“W-What?! I haven’t even hit a 50 in 500 years!”

Smile. Poor Mammon was petrified.

“That’s your problem, not mine.”

A piercing cry echoed in the room. Mammon, with tears on the corner of his eyes held you by the shoulders and shook you. Satan attempted to pull you back to his side to no avail.

“He’s mad! Like, crazy mad! I couldn’t score so high even if Devildom freezes over!”

You were a diligent student at RAD—the novelty of almost everything around you had been a wonderful learning experience, so more often than not, studying (at least Devildom-related subjects) had been more of a hobby to you than an obligation. Satan had been encouraging you in your scholarly pursuits as well, so you couldn’t really understand where Mammon was coming from. Not completely, at least. You may love learning, but exams are another matter. That at least, you can get a sense of.

Lucifer’s words are final—it was an unspoken truth. He rarely ever compromises on his decisions, believing his way of doing things is the only correct one. The fact that he listened to you and considered your feelings was already miraculous. You didn’t want to push your luck. Doing so might only worsen Mammon’s punishment. Instead, you chose to calm your friend down by placing a hand on his own shoulder. You looked at him, hoping your willingness to help him and support him as your first shined through the glint of your eyes.

“Don’t worry, Mammon! I’ll help you study!”

However you wish to placate him however, it didn’t necessarily mean it could be conveyed to the concerned party. Satan didn’t seem amused about the situation either, acting as a barricade between you both, green eyes flickering the flames of his sin you were vaguely aware he was keeping at bay.

“You have some nerve to ask someone who you have stolen from.” You saw his eyes widen for a fraction of a second, lips smirking as if calculating something in his head. “Actually, I have an idea!”

Whatever that idea was, it's totally malicious, Levi muttered to himself (enough for you to hear).

“Y-Your ideas are stupid!” (Mammon)

“So is stealing and making the human I love cry.”

!!!

Levi looked at the both of you in disgust, disgusted even more at himself for his prophetic words. Beel almost choked on his French fry. Belphegor jolted from his half-asleep state, and Lucifer…Lucifer didn’t stir. In fact, it seemed like he anticipated the compulsive love confession. His face hinted no ounce of shock nor disgust—only the comfort of indifference. You wanted to ask if that is a consequence of his complicated relationship with Satan; you closed your mouth instead. But closing your mouth only made you entertain Satan’s bold declarations. Your face felt warm all over, your heart palpitated as if it’s ready to jump out of you. Conscious of the eyes peering at your embarrassing reactions, you hid behind Satan, seeing his reddened ears from your peripheral.

If Asmo was around, you were certain he would be teasing you right now (that or snapping some pictures for Devilgram). Thank goodness he’s not around.

Sadly, you could not see how Satan’s face flushed upon realising what he said. “What I was saying before I was rudely interrupted.” No such attempt of interruption was ever committed, but everyone was too dumbstruck to retort. “I can help you. Since I have already promised them we will study together anyway. In fact, I want to propose a study group. So everyone can bear witness to my dear older brother accomplishing something for himself, and contributing to Devildom’s increase in morale in the process, especially with the current political unrest. I’m sure you already know.”

The only thing you were privy to witness/hear from your current hidden state was how scary he sounded. He wasn’t even trying to be subtle with his sarcasms anymore.

“Sounds delightful. Doesn’t it, Mammon?” Lucifer responded with sarcasm mirroring Satan’s. “A willing tutor and a chance to right your wrongs. I trust that everyone will invite themselves over as well? I quite like the sound of it—increasing Devildom’s morale. Everyone will go, won’t they?”

The bloodlust directed at Mammon only increased as Lucifer dropped his silent warnings. And the oblivious you, still afloat in your pink-themed shoujo manga fantasy was blanketed by the foreboding reality of your future. You only grew aware of it once Mammon asked to talk to you privately. He knew enough that going through the study session was an intent to ridicule him. He was bothered about how he made you cry, but he felt it unfair to be treated like this anyway and you couldn’t help but agree.

“I’m sorry, Mammon. I tried my best to negotiate, but Lucifer’s words are final.”

“…m’sorry too.” He muttered quietly, and only shouted his words again when you asked for it to be repeated. “I really meant it when I said I didn’t know it mattered to ya.”

“I know. I trust you Mammon.”

“…”

“Mammon?”

“AHHH! To hell with this! Why are you so nice to me?” He shook your shoulders again, much like how he did earlier at the common room. “Anyone ever called you a pushover? Cos you are! Get angry at me, dammit!”

Angry? Sure, you were sad, but…

“You’re the Avatar of Greed and you couldn’t help it, can’t you?”

Mammon stopped shaking you, dumbfounded. “Satan already promised to replace my flowers, and sure I’m still really sad about it, but in the end…everything worked out. There’s no use beating myself up over it anymore. Not if we have exams to pass!

.

.

.

Mammon?”

He was red as a tomato. He backed away from you and faced the nearby wall, pounding it one, two, three, four…the fifth and final one the strongest, causing the paintings hanging nearby to shake a little.

“…glad…didn’t…misplace…locker…” You couldn’t really hear him. He seemed to be muttering something for his ears alone. And when you thought the long-spanned silence meant he was ready to talk to you again, he let out a lifetime’s worth of sighs. Ah. He’s facing you. Not as flustered anymore.

“Look…the Great Me is touched you’re such a good human! But…”

“But?”

Mammon hesitated. “I need a miracle to get 75% in all of my subjects. Satan? Nah! He’s out to get me! A target on my back, no offense! But yer boyfriend’s crazy!”

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

“No? Then whaddya call that cozying up to you for? I ain’t stupid, y’know?”

“!!!”

Mammon shrugged, feigning indifference but his gestures had been awkward. Almost sad. “Point is, I need a new tutor. And Satan won’t let you tutor me. Not alone, at least.”

“I still don’t see your point?”

“Patience’s a virtue. A virtue! You’re all buddy buddy with Asmo, aren’t ya?”

“I…guess?” It isn’t like Mammon to drag his point across. It almost felt like you’re connecting the dots. “What about Asmo?”

Oh.

You don’t like that grin on his face. That’s his ‘I have a genius plan!’ look. None of said plans ever worked, its genius equally questionable.

“Oh c’mon! It’ll work this time! He’s some wise old, king from some ravioli country, isn’t he? Maybe he’ll even help me score higher! That’ll show Lucifer!”

“It’s Israel.”

“Israel, Ishmael. Whatever! So, will you help me out?”

Realistically speaking, it was the best option for Mammon to consider. Belphie another, but Belphie barely remembers even going to class. How he manages to pass (with flying colours even) despite that was a mystery in itself. “I’ll try texting him. He said he’s with Solomon right now…so it might work out.”

Mammon smacked your back, letting out a hearty laugh. “That’s my human for ya! I knew you had it in ya!”

Asmo’s messages reeked of drunk: numerous stickers and typo errors that you decided to call him instead. Mammon looked over your shoulder and shared an earbud with you. You felt his muscles tense.

“Hello, Asmo?”

Loud was your first thought as party music blared on the receiver. There were muted conversations also, along with incomprehensible shouting. You heard Asmo’s voice much later, a hiccup or two before slurring out a “Helloooooooooo?”

“You’re drunk, aren’t you?”

“Darliiiiiing!♡”

“You know that alcohol isn’t good for your skin.”

Asmo sniffled in understanding, touched by your concern. You heard him move over to a quieter environment, hearing the name Solomon uttered before placing the phone back to his ear.

“You HAVE to go to the spa with me this weekend! This much damage to my skin is offensive! Offensive I tell you!” You didn’t speak, knowing he had more stories to recount. Mammon grew impatient from behind however, and you only shook your head at him. “Sure! The usual place, right? That aside, what happened?”

The words Asmo was waiting for! He poured his heart out upon your verbal signals. “Remember that super important thing I have to go to? It’s this party~♡ I already told you, didn’t I?”

“Mhm. Something about being summoned?”

“Exactly, exactly!~” Asmo was happy you remembered. Not that it was surprising. With someone as beautiful as him? He’d surely be a hard face to forget. Your genuine interest in him however was special. It felt like you really meant it, that you weren’t just after his beauty (even if he couldn’t quite understand and didn’t mind in the slightest, if you were interested in him solely for his looks).

“Solomon summoned me and said his mage friends were fans of mine~ And who am I to deny them?~ They invited me over to their exclusive party~! It’s teeeeeming with mages here and they’re all, like…hot. Can you believe it? When someone says, wizard friends, you’d automatically think of wrinkly old men, right?~”

“Surely not everyone there is hot.”

“To see is to believe, darling!~ Beauty is meant to be surrounded with beauty~! Isn’t it soooooo thoughtful of him to introduce me to his friends? His hot friends?”

Mammon placed the bud back on your ear, making a cross mark with his arms and shaking his head. He knew what kind of discussion was coming, and he’d rather not hear it. He sat next to you though and leaned on the wall, pretending to be interested over a painting from three centuries ago.

Needless to say, you had a blast talking with an inebriated Asmo, blushing occasionally over some details he shared with you, and blushing even more when he asked about your current standing with his fourth-born brother. You saw Mammon’s eyes roll on occasion, feeling like a father dragged by his wife and teenage daughter as a glorified trolley on their shopping trip. You managed to get a yes from Asmo however, convincing him not to get too carried away to attend the first group study session tomorrow along with Solomon. It hadn’t been as easy to convince him however, especially when he said,

“I’ll try asking him~ But I can’t make any promises.”

“Why not?”

“He’s busy with something. He always is.  Sometimes he tells me, sometimes he doesn’t. That’s how pacts work, darling~♡.”

Fair enough. He did offer for you to talk to the man in question himself to ask him directly, and he had been unexpectedly gracious.

“Sure.” Was Solomon’s curt reply, making you raise an eyebrow. Not that he could tell.

“That’s it? No catch?”

“You want it to have one?” You shuddered at the thought. Your silence was already telling for him. “I take that as a no.”

“It must be the alcohol, huh? Getting in your head much?” You heard him laugh at the other end.

“Oh, definitely. Lady Luck had smiled upon you.”

“…I’ll have Satan push it back a few hours. Tell Asmo to take care of himself for me!”

“Yeah. Bye.”

And that was it. Mammon was safe. Everyone’s happy!

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Until they’re not. There were a mountain of complaints and you haven’t even started yet!

Belphie fell asleep on the study table, Beel ate all the snacks. Levi was busy ignoring everyone else, intent on playing “just one more round” of Mononoke Land (it had been 15 rounds and counting). Lucifer was absent, saying he would arrive late for a reason he refused to elaborate, and Asmo was throwing up last night’s Demonus bombs. Satan was the only “sane” one as always, drumming his fingers on his crossed arms and holding back his anger.

To add insult to injury, Mammon kept pestering you about Solomon’s whereabouts. The more I don’t knows you said, followed by I’m not really close to him only made him ask more. And truthfully speaking? Much like Satan, you felt like you were running out of patience as well.

“MAMMON, SHUT THE @#@#@$$@ UP!”

It looked like Satan finally snapped.

You closed your eyes and ducked your head, successfully dodging the blackboard’s debris. Judging from Levi’s loud cries of pain however, his efforts of dodging had been a failure. The door creaked in that awkward calm of the aftermath, revealing Solomon, greeting everyone with “Hi.” in singsong, completely oblivious of what occurred before his arrival.

“Did we come at a bad time?” You were curious at his we, and focused your eyes at the door to see Simeon and a dumbstruck Luke (currently processing what transpired) standing behind him.

Seeing as you were the only one who was…okay enough to reply, you muttered out,

“Maybe we should do this at Purgatory Hall.”

The three of them agreed in a heartbeat. Yeah. Awkward.

💌continue to next scenario

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💌tag request: @lilliansstuff

[bobawriteslove]

Helpless (Pro-hero) Kirishima X reader pt. 2

Warning: Intense fluff  That night you laid in bed staring at the ceiling. You began to wonder if (f/n) was right, maybe you should give dating a chance. Experience the ups and downs about being in a relationship, but then again you don't need to rely on someone else to make you happy. Your thoughts kept you awake the majority of the night until you finally crashed around 3 am.  The following morning, your friend's voice echoed throughout your house waking you up. You groaned in irritation as you sat up in your bed rubbing around your bed hair. She opened your door looking directly at your bed. “Oh good (y/n) You’re awake! Get dressed, they're going to be there in an hour!” (F/n) pulled your blankets off your body exposing you to the cold. “Up and at em’ we need to get you all pretty for Mr. Riot!” You sighed getting up from your bed walking to your bathroom to wash up.  The clothes (F/n) picked out for you were surprisingly not as revealing as you had assumed them to be. You got dressed in a pair of dark blue ripped jeans, a white blouse that tied on the end exposing just a bit of your stomach and a pair of brown knee high boots. You hated to admit it but you looked damn good with a little bit of effort. Styling your hair into a half up-half down look curling the ends. You didn't bother with a whole bunch of makeup, just simple eyeliner and gloss. You came out of the bathroom revealing the clothes. (F/N)’s eyes lit up at the sight of you. “Holy shit (Y/n) you look cute--no not cute. Sexy. If I was a guy I’d definitely try to fuck you.” (F/N)’s complement was a bit extreme but you knew she meant well. You actually felt confident in the way you looked. But you’d never tell her that cause you’d never hear the end of it. (F/N) pulled out her phone searching something up. “So from your place its only a 20 minute walk. If we wanna get there earlier than the rest we should head out now.” She grabbed all of your essentials including her own rushing out towards the front door. You followed closely behind her heading towards the mall, evidently by the time you arrived there was around a line wrapping around the building. (F/N) groaned in defeat looking at the time. “They beat us here?! How, there’s no way! They must have camped here all night.” You eyed the crowd of girls whose faces were buried in their mirrors as they prepared for the event. The amount of makeup caked up on their skin made yours crawl and itch. (F/N) dragged her feet towards the back of the never ending line, tears about to spill from her eyes. You reached a hand out grabbing her arm catching her attention. You quickly dragged her out of sight towards the back of the back gate. You pulled back the clipped metal ushering your friend inside. “Okay we’re gonna have a serious talk about this later but for now I.FUCKING.LOVE.YOU!”  Laughing to yourself you went through behind her carefully closing it back up to look complete. You brought her to the back door of the wall and it was busy enough at the right moment for you to sneak inside without catching any attention from the patrons. The two of you walked to the event section, it was relatively empty which allowed you to find a place to rest your legs on the indoor fountain. You were surprisingly tired, meaning you used a lot more of your energy than you anticipated.(F/N) took her place next to you staring at you suspiciously.  “So (y/n), we gonna talk about it?” “Hm, talk about what?” you answered casually as you people watched. “You know what! How did you know about that secret passageway?” “Oh that, well remember when i was trying to buy that new fighting game? I didn't feel like waiting on the line that day and I discovered it when a bunch of boys cut the wire. Guess they didn't feel like waiting either. So when I saw how sad you were it reminded me of where it was and I snuck us inside.”  (F/N) hugged you tightly, practically suffocating you in her chest! “Who's my precious little criminal!” She squealed out. “You went through with it too, that makes you just as guilty as I am!” you said in a gasped voice. “Oh hey I guess you’re right---WHO’S MY PRECIOUS LITTLE PARTNER IN CRIME?” she cooed at you. You rolled your eyes, shrugging her off. You couldn't help but laugh at her nickname for you. “What time are they supposed to be here again?” “I think the flyer said between 2 or 3 o'clock, so they should be arriving any moment now--”  As if on cue the sound of screaming girls echoed through the halls. You covered your ears watching as a sea of girls flooded the entrance to the mall. You and (F/N) stood on the fountain trying to see over the horde that was only growing in size. The only thing visible was a blonde and red fluff among the crowd. (F/N) squealed pointing in their direction. “IT REALLY IS THEM! WE GOTTA GET OVER THERE” You felt a bit more determined now that the odds of getting to them seemed nearly impossible. The crowd began to move towards the staircase, you grabbed your friends wrist again hopping off the fountain rushing to the staff only escalator. It was much faster than the regular stairs that were currently being occupied. The two of you made your way around the crowd, luckily the crowd wasn't too aggressive but it was obvious that no girl wanted to lose their spots in front of the stage. The small staging area upstairs was set up rather nicely but it was meant to keep some kind of order among the girls. The staff only allowed 4 girls at a time to go up on stage to meet the boys, even exchanging the gifts they brought. The lines were moving pretty quickly and it was almost your turn. The wait wasn't bad at all, but it seemed like the girls in front of you didn't feel the same way. They were becoming extremely rowdy as the girls before them took their time carrying on a conversation longer than what was allowed. Soon the girls before you began to shout absurdities towards the girls on the stage which caused them to respond back resulting in an argument. Most of the girls cleared out, backing away to give the girls some space but you and (F/N) stayed put. You weren't  worried about the fight turning physical because that would cause a bigger issue for the rest of you. You worked too hard to lose your spot now. (F/N) stood close by but unfortunately the fight took a turn for the worse. You tried to move out of the way stepping up on the stairs to the stage , the girls fighting pushed and shoved each other even landing a few hits here and there. However you were caught in the crossfire and were pushed off the staging area, you fell towards the crowd of girls at the bottom making the scream, You braced yourself for impact, closing your eyes tightly. The sound of your friends voice and a loud “fuck” echoed in your ears. You felt yourself being engulfed in a tight embrace, you head being tucked into a shoulder and shielded from behind. You and your savior hit the ground rather hard but you didn't get a chance to feel it due to the person cushioning your fall. You looked up and gasped, getting a good look at their face. Bakugo stared down at you grinding his teeth angrily. “Stupid women.” He winced in pain as he stood up turning to face the girls who started the fighting cracking his knuckles. “Listen here you idiots, you pull something like this again and you’ll have to answer to me you got that! AND THAT GOES FOR THE REST OF YOU!” He smashed his fist to his palm activating his quirk. The girls behind the ropes squealed completely ignoring what just happened. He walked off leaving you on the ground as he walked towards the stage. Your eyes followed him as he ascended. Kirishima looked at his friend before hopping off the stage himself walking over to you reaching a hand out. “Are you alright Miss?” It took all your willpower to now gawk at him, he was gorgeous up close but you pushed the thought to the back of your mind grabbing his hand to pull yourself up. He helped you with no effort, his muscle rippling as he assisted you. He scanned over your body for injury as he spoke softly to you. “I'm sorry about him, he’s not too great at consoling a victim but at least you’re safe now. Unless you require medical help?” Your friend watched from behind him giving you the ‘I told you face’ wiggling her eyebrows. You turned back to him giving him a friendly smile which shocked him a bit. “I’m fine, thank you Red Riot.” “Ah--” He gave you one  of his boyish smiles in return rubbing the back of his neck. “You can call me Eijiro okay, What’s your name?”. You suddenly forgot how to speak and fumbled to find your words which made him laugh loudly. “Relax! Breathe, everything's cool.” You took a deep breath with his help finally introducing yourself. 

 “My names (y/n)”  “(Y/N)?” he repeated back to you.  “Yeah.” “That’s beautiful--I mean cool! Anyways, I better be going but um, are you gonna be alright (y/n)?” Your friend signaled over his shoulder for you to pretend to be injured and you shook your head at her. He leaned back into your view and looked at you with genuine concern. “So you’re not okay? “ he questioned. Your eyes snapped back to his concerned red ones. “Oh no! I mean, I’m fine.” “Oh okay, for a second there it looked like you said you were still hurt?” “No I’m okay, thank you for asking!” “Well alright. I’ll see you on stage okay. Try not to fall again”

He escorted you back to the line with your friend who was pretending to be as casual as possible. She looked at you and dramatically threw her arms around your body. “Oh my baby! Are you alright?” you arched your brow at her acting and sighed going along with it. “I’m fine. You can rest easy now.” He nodded leaving you two to talk things out. The girls who started the fight were removed from the mall allowing the two of you to walk up for your turn officially. You watched as your friend ran over to Bakugo wrapping her arms around his neck. He pulled away from her body with a blush on his cheeks. “Let go of me, you dumb ass….” “Aww come on, I’m just really grateful that you saved my best friend's life!” she finished kissing his cheek. He continued to pull away from her advances in disgust. “I couldn’t give a rats ass! Let go!”  You and Kirishima watched the scene unfold shaking your head at your friends' antics. You pulled out your phone in which he took it from your hands holding it above your heads. He wrapped his arm around your waist pulling you closely. “Here let me do it. I’m taller anyways.” he leaned down closely pressing his head against yours smiling brightly.You blushed but smiled a bit as he snapped the image. The sound of Bakugos groans caught your attention. Your friend continued to grab him by his shirt collar to kiss his cheek as she took her own photo. You held in a laugh, turning your attention to your phone that was in Kirishima's hands. He was busy typing something in before turning it back to you. You looked at the screen in shock. You looked back up at him and he turned his face with a clear blush matching his friends.You saved the number on the screen and tucked your phone into your back pocket. You grabbed your friend's arm pulling her away from Bakugo who wiped the lipstick off his cheek shuddering. The two of you exited off the stage, your friend blew him a goodbye kiss as you dragged her back to the water fountain.  “So?” You heard her say.  “So what?”  “Did you have a moment with him~” (F/N) leaned in closely to your face poking your cheek. “Ah, kinda...you especially had a good time didn’t” “BUT YOU DID HAVE A MOMENT!!! I TOLD YOU” You pulled your phone out scrolling through the contacts showing her the new addition. She screamed wrapping her arms around you bouncing up and down. “I’m so proud of you!!!”  You tapped her arm realizing that this was the moment she would never let you live down.