#who needs to know where the bandages are? when you could know how many holes you have

[marvel-lous-guy]

Peter: hypothetically, if a bullet went through my stomach, would it be considered one hole or two

Tony: exactly how hypothetical is this?

Peter: *blood gushing out a wound he's badly trying to put pressure on* I don't know what you mean

[suhkusa]

HELL OF A WOMAN.

PAIRING. Bakugou Katsuki x f!Reader

CW. slight enemies-to-lovers, some angst but not heavy, fluff, you're both snarky (romantic), ~4k words, slice of life, reader has a healing quirk

A/N. i'd say slowburn but it's only slowburn because i barely ever write fics this long lol

Throughout your time in the nurse’s office as Recovery Girl’s student apprentice, you’ve met many different students. They all varied– whether it be their quirk, their grade, or even the injury they had come in for. 

Students from the general education, support and management departments rarely ever made their rounds to the nurse’s office, only coming in for a simple cut or bruise. 

That left you with those in the hero department.

You got along well with nearly all of them, even going as far as becoming friends with a few. And while that was true, of course there were gonna be some who you couldn’t get along with. But, there was specifically one student you could not stand. And he’d probably say the same thing for you as well. 

It was none other than Bakugou Katsuki.

———

The first time you really interacted with Bakugou Katsuki was within the first month of your apprenticeship. It was in your 3rd year, and you had already been managing well. 

Your day had started off fantastic. Recovery Girl had left you to run the office by yourself, thoroughly trusting your working and communication skills, so that she could run errands out of town. 

The office hadn’t been too busy, allowing you time to finish a bit of your homework at your own little desk next to hers. A few people came and left, just needing a simple healing of their arm or leg. 

You had been lost in thought when he slammed the door open, practically huffing as he walked in. Putting your pencil down, your wide eyes looked up and met his own. It felt as though he was burning a hole straight through your skull with the way he stared you down.

You didn’t even have to ask to know who he was. In your first and second year, his face was plastered nearly everywhere throughout the media. Bakugou Katsuki. But you’d never talked to him. Well, until now.

Assuming he’d be like every other person who walked through that door, stating their business then quietly leaving, you broke the deafening silence.

“Uh, yes?” you let out, cringing internally at the way the words came out.

Bakugou looked around the room before back at you, “Where the hell is the old woman at?” he spat.

You were seemingly surprised at his not-so-subtle entrance and dirty language. 

“If you meant Recovery Lady by “old woman”, then she’s out of town for some errands. I can help you if–”

“And who the hell are you?” he snapped before you finished, impatience laced in the way he spoke and stood before you.

You could practically feel how your jaw dropped and eyebrows furrowed at his blunt question. If he didn’t hold back, then why should you?

“I’m Y/N L/N, I’m Recovery Lady’s helper. Now,” you put on the most calm and collected voice you could manage, “what the hell do you want?”

The day was going well, before now at least, and you were not going to let some egoistic, cocky guy ruin it for you. Tug of war is a game with two different sides, and you weren’t gonna let him win victoriously. 

Bakugou’s face scrunched up at the words you spat right back at him, opening his mouth to retort something– probably an insult– before letting it fall shut with a grunt. 

“What the– Just put a bandage on this shit,” he held his arm out for you to see a scrape wound running up the length of it.

You raised an eyebrow as you glanced between the injury and his eyes that looked down at you expectantly. And waited.

“The fuck you staring at?” he spoke– yelled, really– before stepping a bit closer.

A smirk tugged up at the corner of your lips before you sat back in your spinning chair, crossing a leg over the other. Like you were the one expecting something.

“You–”

“Please.” you cut him off, lifting a hand to inspect your nails nonchalantly. Hm, maybe you should get them done.

“Like hell I’m saying that, do something about–”

“Please.”  you repeated, emphasizing the word in a louder tone. You looked at him from behind your lifted hand, the smirk that once teased at your mouth now sitting there fully– mocking him.

“Fine! Fuckin’ fine!”  Bakugou snarled, his pearly whites peeking from under his lips. “Will you please do something about this?”

Satisfied, you responded, “‘Kay,”

———

Perhaps you should’ve bit your tongue before you spoke to the oh so great Bakugou Katsuki. In your defense, you didn’t know he’d hold it against you. You were joking, obviously. It was obvious. Right?

And so, everytime he walked into the nurse’s office, he’d send you the same nasty glare, practically seething through his teeth as he made eye contact with you. You knew exactly why he did the gesture every time he came in, but how long did this guy hold grudges for? It wasn’t like you publicly humiliated him or anything. 

“Why are you always looking at me like that?” you asked him one day as the Recovery Lady escorted him to one of the vacant cots, leg stretched out as you leaned back in your chair. 

“Hah? Like what?” he grunted in your direction as he took a seat, an eyebrow raised in curiosity? Irritation? Probably both.

“Mm,” you looked up to the roof as if you were thinking, “Like you like me or something, I mean it’s really flattering but you don’t have to sta—”

“As if. I’d rather watch an elephant take a dump than stare at your face any day,” Bakugou inputted as he lifted his arm to allow Recovery Lady to heal the injury along his bicep.

“Oh really? I didn’t know you were into that kind of stuff, Bakugou,” 

You fidgeted with the pen in your hand as you watched his face scrunch up. 

“You know what—”

Just as he was about to rise and stand from his spot, Recovery Lady quickly and gently pushed him to sit back down. 

“Y/N,” she emphasized your name with a familiar tone, “I think we’re running low on bandages, could you go get some from the storage room?” 

Even though her words were anything but hostile, you and Bakugou could tell she was scolding you. You let out a sigh. 

“Yeah, I can,” 

Getting up from your seat, you set your things down before making your way to the door. Not before stealing one more glance at Bakugou. He was also staring back at you, but this time there was a bit of cockiness in his eyes. Getting the last word never hurt anybody.

You slid the door open, eyes still locked with his, “You know, you’d probably look cute as well if you didn’t look like you were constipated 24/7,” 

“The fuck—”

Quickly sticking your tongue out at him, you shut the door before he was able to finish his sentence.

———

The nurse’s office had been particularly quiet today. The slow day in the office gave you more free time to yourself, which allowed you to catch up on a couple past assignments. Only two or three people came in before the lunch bell rang. After packing your bag, you waved off Recovery Lady as you excused yourself to the cafeteria.

And when you returned, it was still quiet. You quickly noticed that it was also void of Recovery Lady, the short woman nowhere to be seen. As you slid the door shut behind you, you heard a hushed groan come from one of the beds. Your head snapped to the source of the noise, quietly stepping closer to the person. 

Almost naturally, you recognized the disheveled blonde hair. Bakugou. 

But this was different. New. He was quiet for once, and the eyes that almost always were glaring at you were closed shut. Your body relaxed at the unusual sight of him. And maybe if you were crazy, you would’ve thought he was cute. 

As you got closer, you noticed the slight crease in his eyebrows, as well as the bandage that was wrapped around his torso. 

Perhaps you got too caught up in the moment, though. Too caught up in the way his chest slowly rose with each breath, the way his skin seemed to glow under the sun’s filtered light. So caught up that you didn’t realize those familiar crimson eyes were staring back up at you.

“You a pervert now?” his voice cut through silence, causing you to tense and step back. “The hell are you looking at?”

For a moment, it felt like your voice was caught in your throat. You caught yourself trying to find something to look at. Something other than him.

“Looks like you’re in quite a predicament,” you commented with a breathy laugh, not really knowing what else to say. Stupid joke.

“No, really?” sarcasm was laced in his tone, but you could hear the struggle as he grunted quietly afterwards.

Maybe you’d spare him for the day.

“Recovery Lady hasn’t gotten to you, yet?” you asked as you slowly made your way to your desk, setting down your bag.

“Nah,” he let out a huff as he sat up, “Shit— she wasn’t here when I got here,”

Letting out a hum in response, “Do… Do you want me to help you then?” you asked, even though you already knew the likely answer.

“What the hell do you think—” 

“You know, on second thought I have some homework—”

He let out an exasperated sigh before surrendering once again, “Yes. Yes, please. Help me,”

Biting back a small smile, you turned back around to make your way back to the injured man. You pulled up a chair next to the bed, sliding in closer. After gesturing him to lay back down, your hands carefully peeled back the bandages that covered the wound. You’d never get used to the sight of blood. 

You could feel the way his body tensed every time your hand neared his injury, though you tried your best not to touch it at all. 

“Sorry if it hurts a little,” you said, lifting your hands over the gash, “Just do your best to relax,”

“Whatever,” Bakugou responded as he turned his head away from you. 

It happened in a flash. From his peripheral view, he saw your hands glow, and the next thing he knew: he was fine again. Not a scar, scratch, or wound in sight. Like it wasn’t even there. 

Though you enjoyed the perplexed look in his eyes, you could feel yourself becoming rather light-headed. You took a deep breath before standing up and going back to your desk to get your water bottle. 

As you took a sip of your water, you watched as he sat up in the cot, lifting up his shirt to examine the skin. 

“Never seen a quirk before?” you laughed at his amusement.

His face quickly snapped back to his normal grouchy look, “No, just didn’t know you had a quirk at all, you usually just bandage my injuries up. Plus healing quirks are rare,”

“Mm, I get that a lot,” you mused, twisting the cap back onto your water, “It’s just a normal healing quirk though. I’ve been working with Recovery Lady to train it’s capabilities,”

Bakugou grunted in response. Silence filled the room for a moment before he decided to speak up. 

“Gonna head back to class,” he stated curtly, swiftly putting his blazer back on before stepping towards the door, “Thanks, I guess,” 

With one last glance back at you, he was gone. Leaving you and the rapid thumping of your heart alone in the room once again. 

———

“Is anyone sitting here?” a gruff voice came from above.

With the rest of the noise in the cafeteria, you nearly didn’t hear him. Your eyes gazed up from your food toward him, eyebrow shooting up in question.

“Uhm,” you swallowed the food in your mouth before responding, “what does it look like to you?” 

You gestured to the empty seats around you before going back to poking at your lunch.

“Tch, just asking,” Bakugou murmured under his breath as he tugged a chair out from under the table and took a seat.

As you ate, you couldn’t help but sneak a couple of glances his way. Just why was he sitting with you? Was this his own silent way of tormenting you?

“So,” you started before clearing your throat, “what do you want?”

You could see him freeze mid-bite, eyes shooting up to you.

“To eat? What else?” he grunted nonchalantly.

Well no shit.

“Oh really? Didn’t know that,” you rolled your eyes, “why not eat with your friends?”

“Don’t wanna,”

Your lips pulled into a thin line before you gave up. You dismissed him as you continued to finish your lunch. After this you’d probably have enough time to take a nap in the nurse’s office. In an attempt to finish your food without starting some random argument with the blonde next to you, you kept the interactions to a minimum.

After you finished, you debated your options. Did you say goodbye or just… leave? Just leaving would be rude, wouldn’t it? Well who cares, you sure don’t–

“Hold on,” he called out, catching your attention.

You watched as he quickly finished the rest of his lunch, gathering his stuff before standing up. 

“What–”

“Alright, let’s go,” he said as he walked past you towards the garbage can.

“Uh,” you followed shortly after him with your trash, “go where?”

Stacking his tray with the others, he sent you a glare with a rough, “Where else?” 

When you didn’t respond with a word but instead with a confused look, Bakugou sighed and continued. 

“The nurse’s office,” 

Your mouth dropped open in a silent “Ohh”. You tugged your bag over your shoulder as you walked up next to him.

 The walk through the halls was rather silent other than the couple of students that walked past the two of you. But not a word was said between the two of you. At least until he opened his mouth. 

“So, what are your plans after graduating?” he asked, hands in his pocket as he continued to walk by you. 

You let your eyes scan the exterior through the wide UA windows when you responded, “Hm, I think I’ll find a job in a hospital? I think I wanna work in some field with heroes, but I’m not quite sure yet… And you?”

“Obviously I’m gonna a hero,” Bakugou scoffed with a smirk, “Gonna be the best one, at that,” 

“I see,” you let a light laugh slip out at his confidence.

“What’s funny, huh?” he asked, voice suddenly scarily serious. 

Your eyes widened, “Nothing, nothing– It’s just we barely have normal conversations like this. I guess,” you quickly added.

Bakugou hummed in response, coming to a quick stop as the two of you reached the nurse’s office’s door. 

“Well,” you step closer to the door, “Thank you for walking me here, Bakugou,” you smiled.

“Katsuki,”

“Hm?”

He rolled his eyes, “Just call me Katsuki,” he turned the other way quickly before waving you off, “Later, nerd,” 

A laugh escaped you as you watched him walk away, waiting a couple of more moments before walking into the office.

Maybe if you stared for a little longer you would’ve seen the way his ears reddened at your smile.

———

“Oh! Good afternoon Bakugou and Kirishima!” the voice of the elderly woman snapped you awake, causing you to jump in your seat.

You could hear a snicker come from a certain person as you turned to see the two who entered the room.

Your eyes were met with a seemingly beaten up Kirishima and Bakugou, the two having scruffs, scratches and bruises on their skin.

“What were you guys doing this time?” Recovery Lady escorted the two to their own beds, tending to Bakugou’s injuries and gesturing to you to help Kirishima.

“Ah, just training, same as always,” the red head responded with a smile, “Oh, hey Y/N,”

You could feel the ends of your mouth tug upwards at his greeting, “Hey,”

“How’s everything been?” 

As you continued your chatter with Kirishima and helped him with his injuries, you didn’t seem to see or feel the daggers of stares that Bakugou sent in your direction.

On the other hand, Bakugou didn’t even know why he felt like this. 

What was he pissed about? It’s not like the two of you are friends. Did you consider him a friend? Yet why did it feel so utterly annoying to watch you interact with some other guy? 

That was beyond Bakugou. 

Maybe he already knew the answer. And maybe he didn’t want to come to terms with what that answer held.

Either way he couldn’t take another second of this.

“Bakugou? Where are you going—”

The sound of Recovery Lady’s frantic voice caught the attention of you and Kirishima. Your eyebrow raised in confusion as the blonde made his way to the door with the little lady following him.

“You’re not fully healed yet,” the old woman claimed.

“It’s fine,” 

“Let him,” Kirishima said after Bakugou slammed the door shut. “He’s been a little off lately,”

You wrapped a bandage around Kirishima’s elbow, “Off? How?”

Kirishima’s eyes looked up in thought, “He’s been kinda closed off lately; barely comes to our hangouts,”

“Ooh,” you sighed as you continued helping the guy in front of you.

There was a seedling of worry planted in your stomach, and you barely had any clue why. It’s not like you guys were close. He was just some guy who came to the nurse’s office like every other student. Maybe those late nights staying up were finally catching up to you. 

After cleaning up and sending Kirishima off, you were finally left alone. Recovery Lady had left a while ago to fetch some supplies from the storage room. And so that left you and your thoughts alone in the office.

———

A week had gone by.

A week had gone by, and there had been radio silence from Bakugou.

Either training had slowed down or he was completely avoiding you. And either way, it still made you a bit sad. Only a bit. 

Days in the nurse’s office were slow and lonely. You never made a real connection with anyone. People came and people left. They come to get healed and leave. No side talk, albeit a few exceptions. Bakugou being one of those.

 There were times where you thought you saw him entering the nurse’s office when you were leaving, but the glimpses were so small that you chalked it up to your imagination.

It felt like he was consuming your every thought, so you had no choice but to accept the fact that maybe you had a crush on Bakugou. Maybe.

But so what? That was normal, everyone had a crush on him at one point. Too bad you fell victim along with the rest of them, though.

Admitting to yourself that you liked Bakugou was hard, but having to actually deal with the feelings you had was harder. One, because you’ve never really had a serious crush. And two, he was nowhere to be seen. Having a crush on him made your heart beat so quick that you’d use your quirk on yourself to make sure you weren’t having heart problems.

Soon, one week turned into two.

And it seemed like the office was only getting busier as the third years prepared for their finals. Everyone was in and out as they practiced their hand to hand combat more vigorously and more often.

The first couple of days, it was easy. But towards the end of the week, you began to fatigue. Having to balance your own finals and running around the office having to use your quirk over and over was doing a number on you. 

The injuries were becoming worse, the amount was increasing. At times, you were dizzy with how many times you’d have to keep turning around from bed to bed to help someone new. 

Then there was a calm. You barely noticed a full week of finals had swung by, leaving the clinic empty and quiet. 

“Is it alright if I nap during the passing period?” you turn in your chair to Recovery Lady, who is stocking up the medicine cabinets.

“Of course, you should be fine, if anything I can handle anyone who comes in,” she tells you.

You sigh in relief as you walk to the nearest bed on weak legs, basically melting into it as soon as your body hits the cushion. You knock out on the spot, letting your well-deserved slumber overcome you.

———

 Your slumber is interrupted by a slight jolt to the bed frame you’re lying on. You groan as you flip onto your other side. The light escapes through your lashes, creating a blurred light illusion with a silhouette. Your eyes shot open, a silhouette? 

You become conscious of yourself as soon as you realize the one before you is none other than Bakugou Katsuki. There’s a stupid grin on his face which makes you want to slap it right off of him. You sneakily nudge at the drool on the side of your mouth and adjust your clothing and appearance.

“Finally awake, sleeping beauty?” he says from the seat beside you, and it feels like forever since you’ve last heard that voice of his.

“Yeah, because of someone,” you grumbled, eyebrows scrunching up. He laughs, laughs, as his eyes focus on you.

“It’s getting late,” is all he says.

You have half a mind to respond, until you remember that he’s been avoiding you. Your eyebrows tighten together impossibly closer, as you flip to face away from him.

“You’re a dick,” you say matter-of-factly. “You’ve been avoiding me, I’m not stupid,”

Your eyes are jittery as they look everywhere. Trying to focus on something in the room to distract yourself from all of the possibilities of what might come out of his mouth.

“Why do you care?”

His words cause you to sit up, facing him once more. “What do you even mean, why? I used to see you everyday, then suddenly you just walked out and I never saw you again,”

Bakugou’s eyes slightly roll at your words, and it kind of hurts.

“I just thought maybe we were…” your words trail off causing Bakugou to stare at you more intently.

“Were what?”

“I don’t know, friends, or some shit,” you bury your head in your hands out of embarrassment.

“Did I say we weren’t?”

“Well, you never said we were,”

“Didn’t think I had to,” he says, “Thought you were smarter than that, doc,”

You smile at the nickname. “You can leave now, I’m awake, I just have to close up the clinic. Why were you here in the first place?”

“Had to make sure you weren’t dead or something,”

Laughing, you get up to fix the bed sheets. The words that fly out of your mouth come out on their own. 

“What, do you like me or something?”

“Probably,”

His careless response didn’t register in your mind at first, but when it did, you could feel the heat rush from the back of your neck up to the tips of your ears. 

“W-What? You can’t just say that… weirdo,” your eyes flick up at him then back down to the sheets, fluffing up the already neat pillows. 

Silence filters through the room, the only noise filling your ears being the noise of cotton and linen being moved around. Along with the sound of your heartbeat thumping in your ears. It felt so loud, that you swear he could probably hear it as well. You didn’t know what to do, was this real life?

Did those words really just come out of his mouth?

His head tilted and you could feel his gaze on you. It was nerve-wracking, and you were just hoping and praying he’d say something that’d clear your mind. A small, “just kidding,” would be nice right about now. The hurt you’d feel from that would be better than the anxiety you felt at this instant. 

“Say what?” he mocks, and it causes your eye to twitch.

You decide you’re not playing these games with Katsuki Bakugou today, “Oh nothing, must’ve been the wind,” you flutter your eyes before turning the other direction to fix up another bed that looks like it’d been used.

A hand on your wrist puts a stop to your motions, and it immediately makes your head turn back to meet his eyes. 

“B- Katsuki–”

You’d usually be able to come up with something snarky, but right now all your words were caught in your throat. You were actually scared to say the wrong thing for once.

“You were joking right?” you ask him, nervous for what his answer might be.

Bakugou is quick to retort, “Depends, were you?”

You gulp down your anxiety before giving him a response, “N-No,”

“Then? Use that smart little brain of yours, doc,”

“Say it,” you demand, “I’m not playing this little game with you, so say it,”

His ruby eyes roll before connecting gazes with yours once again, “I like you, or something,” he mimics your words from earlier.

You can feel yourself fluster. The dizziness in your head almost made you convince yourself that you were dreaming. If this was a dream, you wanted All Might himself to pop out and punch you across the face.

“Why don’t you say something now, hm?” his grip around your wrist loosens to a more gentle grasp.

His face closens to yours, the distance between the two of you is only breaths-length. 

“Since you’re so smart, you tell me,” you sass, “Take a guess, smartass,” 

A smile quirks at the corner of his mouth, “You’re such a dick,” he whispers under his breath before closing the distance completely, his lips locking with yours. 

Your eyes widen at the pure shock, but you ultimately melt into the kiss. It’s sweet and you can feel the two of you smiling into it. 

When the two of you part, you can feel slight embarrassment wash over you. “You’re an ass, you didn’t even let me confess, my high school sweetheart experience is ruined forever, 

Bakugou lets out a breathy laugh at your words, “Thought you wanted me to take a guess,” 

“And if you were wrong?” 

“Hah, as if,”

© all writings belongs to suhkusa 2024. do not repost or change.

[tsukimefuku]

content warning: fluff, hurt and lots of comfort, written in mixed style (head canon + fic), non-explicit smut, post Shibuya scarred Nanami. Loosely inspired by the song “gilded lily”.

Nanami Kento, who opened his eyes while on a hospital bed, barely feeling the left side of his body after Shoko tended to him, just to find you by his bedside finishing wrapping him up with bandages as a hurricane of emotions took over your face — fear, panic, anger, sadness, eagerness... 

Relief.

Nanami Kento, who reached towards your forearm with his unburnt hand, completely ignoring the bandages covering a good portion of his own face, glad to know that the last time he saw you wasn’t, in fact, the last. He had lived a proper life without regrets, or so he thought, up until those fateful moments in which he believed he was about to die without ever telling you how he truly felt.

Nanami Kento, who for the next few days, while bedridden and feeling useless after Gojo’s sealing in the prison realm, had the time to contemplate the life he’d been living so far, and wondered with an untapped honesty if the death of a pawn soldier — what he had been reduced to after such an influx of special grades — would really be relevant in this war. Would he be missed?

Nanami Kento, who had many visitors throughout the following days, such as Yuuji, Ino, Ijichi and Megumi, and shared the quiet comfort from your companionship every time you weren’t elbow-deep assisting Shoko with the wounded. He’d ask you to read for him. He said it was only needed while he got used to seeing with one eye, but the truth of the matter was Nanami just enjoyed listening to your voice. You knew and you didn’t mind. In fact, you actually enjoyed reading aloud by his bedside as you both ventured through Hemingway’s A Farewell to Arms.

Nanami Kento who, for some reason, woke up on the wrong side of the bed the morning he was to remove his bandages, and cringed as he saw the scarred, burnt skin that was hidden underneath. Not because of any aesthetic discomfort, — he’d grown accustomed to seeing far worse on the daily — but because now he’d forever be engraved with the violence and viciousness of the life he chose. A constant reminder, literally in the flesh, of everything he almost lost. Every future, chance or opportunity that would’ve been thrown away on a whim during that night in Shibuya. 

Nanami Kento, whose jaw unclenched and shoulders untensed when you wrapped your fingers around his burnt hand, and who turned to regard you with his bandaged head and eye. Who genuinely and warmly smiled when you gave him the small eye patch in yellow splattered fabric you had sewn using one of his ties, apologizing in advance for rummaging through his things without talking to him first. You explained about asking for Ino’s help to fetch one of those. With this eye patch, you told Nanami, he would “have an all matching attire.”

Nanami Kento, who made a half-hearted remark about chastising Ino for using his copy of Nanami’s apartment key to go behind his back, but spared no time in actually removing his final bandages — while turning away from you — and covering the gaping hole where his eye should be with the accessory.

Nanami Kento, who one day before getting officially discharged, felt he was once again letting the opportunity of telling you how he felt slip through his fingers. The fear and the urgency from before were gone, life was once again moving in its own settled way, and you both would surely go back to tiptoeing quietly around the unsaid.

You both knew what it meant, and neither could muster up the courage to say it out loud, even with him having just survived certain death. Not even then.

Nanami Kento, who on that very evening wrapped his fingers softly around your wrist as you got up to leave for the night. Who, after you asked him if he needed anything, absentmindedly answered “you,” making your heart skip a beat.

Nanami Kento, who instantly regretted it, and wondered what could’ve possessed him to say that, but as he began apologizing, his words got muffled by the pressing of your lips against his. Who didn’t think twice before pulling you closer, having you almost fall on top of  his supine body.

Nanami Kento, who was too tired. Exhausted, even. Exhausted of waiting, of pretending, of denying himself the comfort of a less grueling existence in the comfort of your embrace, of your kisses, of you. 

Nanami Kento, who gasped into your mouth the moment you straddled over him, so gently that the bed barely moved, and drew his hands up your back, leaving a trail of heat wherever they traveled. Who hesitated for a moment when your fingers motioned to remove the eye patch you gave him, but obliged after you asked him “please, let me see you,” melting into the soft pecks you laid all over his scarred cheek, imprinting your affection on him one kiss at a time.

Nanami Kento, who was genuinely surprised to see that you, too, had a good portion of your body covered in scars from previous missions after you propped yourself up and took off your shirt. He gently descended the tips of his fingers in between your breasts, where the deepest of the marks laid gravely over your sternum. “I never knew,” he whispered, to which you replied “It comes with the job, I guess. None of us survives this truly unscathed.” 

Nanami Kento, whose dexterous hands kneaded around your body, committing every inch to memory, as all of your garments slid down onto the floor, like all the other things that didn’t matter at that moment — the losses, the fear, the past, the duty.

Nanami Kento, who had you with urgent kindness, as you both gave yourselves entirely to each other. He felt your body wave and flow on top of him, just like the soothing, fresh waves from the beach he thought he’d never get to see.

Nanami Kento, who for the first time ever since waking up from a sure death, felt a warmth capable of pushing away the cold grip of death around his throat, your warmth. 

Nanami Kento, who had survived. Who was glad that you did too, and loved you with no apologies through each second of it all, all touch, and kiss, and tongue, and smell, and taste, and breath, and promise.

Nanami Kento, whose arms wrapped around your body as he whispered against your lips, soft pleas none of you could put into words, but both knowing what they meant. He held you tightly as you unraveled for him, muffling your cries of his name with his mouth.

Nanami Kento, who was enthralled by the sound of his name in your voice, your need, your pleas, your smell, your flesh, your desire, and it was all too much, as he filled you whole while sinking his palms over your thighs, pushing himself as deep as he could.

Nanami Kento, who kept you in his embrace while your ear rested right over his chest, and you could hear each and every heartbeat echoing through him. Who asked you to stay the night, and you knew, right then and there, that you would.

You, who knew that no matter what happened, you’d never leave Nanami’s side from that day on.

End notes: I always wanted to write a post-Shibuya Nanami piece, and the inspiration finally hit! A huge thank you to @redlikerozez and @rahuratna for beta reading this.💜

written by tsukimefuku ㋡ comments and reblogs are appreciated. do not copy, translate or repost. copycatting is for losers.

[justwinginglife]

No because your writing keeps me going in this Soshiro Hoshina AO3 drought!!!!!!!

What do we think about our Vice Captain getting in some trouble during a battle with a nasty Kaiju and his long time friend/crush who is a platoon leader in another division just so happens to be on her way to visit the 3rd division when the attack happens so she swoops in to save the day (and stitches him up after the whole ordeal ;))???

So glad I could provide sustenance! I am also keeping myself afloat with my writing trying to stay sane until season two comes out. I need more Hoshina screentime fr fr.

Crushing Hard

Soshiro Hoshina had dinner plans and he was late.

He cursed the kaiju for its poor timing. It was one thing to have to fight a kaiju on a Saturday - how inconsiderate of it to attack on his day off- and another to have to fight it before a date. At least he thought it was a date. He never knew with you. He hoped it was a date. He'd been pining after you for so long, it made his whole week (his whole month, really) that you'd texted him asking if you could swing by and have dinner this weekend.

He had just fixed his hair for the tenth time (he didn't know why he felt the need to fix it so much, it looked the same every time he fixed it), when he got the call that there was a kaiju wreaking havoc. And only a couple blocks away from where you were supposed to meet him for dinner, no less. He would really beat the shit out of the kaiju if it destroyed the restaurant he had planned to take you to.

So he quickly threw his combat suit on over his date clothes, hoping it would be a quick and easy mission, and he'd be ready to greet you at the door in no time at all. Yeah, that had been wishful thinking. This Honju really had it out for him.

In fact, the damn Honju had even sliced through part of his combat suit, tearing through the top he was wearing underneath.

"This was my favorite fucking shirt, damnit!" He curses at the Kaiju and runs at it again, swords at the ready.

The thing about this Honju was that it wasn't very big but it was very quick. Hoshina was exhausting himself just keeping up with it. It was almost like it was made to fight Hoshina, with its strengths lying in speed and close combat. And to make matters worse, without meaning to, Hoshina's mind kept wandering to his dinner with you, causing him to be slower to react than normal. He took a cut to the cheek and swore again. If he took anymore hits, he didn't know if his pride would let him show up to dinner looking like this.

"You know, I really didn't think you'd be treating me to dinner and a show, but you always were the overachiever."

Before he even had time to process who was talking, a large blast went off and the Honju suddenly has a gaping hole in its abdomen.

"Huh. Sturdy thing, aren't you? Let's try that again." Another blast and now its chest is missing.

Hoshina blinks, watching as you continue blasting the kaiju until it's nothing more than roadkill on the pavement. He should be helping you, he should be bandaging himself up, he should be getting food in the both of your stomachs. So many things to do, but all he wants to do is stare. You look so gorgeous with a gun. The way you wipe blood from your cheek, the way your ponytail lifts in the wind, the way that you smirk at the corpse, smug about your win. He wants to take in everything about you.

"You look like you need a drink." Now you were turning around, grinning at him. He thinks to himself that he could watch you forever.

"Soshiro?"

He shakes his head quickly. "Sorry. Must be the blood loss."

You laugh. "Well let's take care of that and then you owe me some dinner, as I recall." You start cleaning him up and he continues to watch you as you handle him with such care.

You pull the combat suit off of him, revealing his torn shirt underneath. "Ah damn. That was your favorite shirt. And mine too. Love when you wear this thing, I'll have to buy you a new one." You continue bandaging him like you haven't just said something that gets his heart racing.

"Mmm, I know, I have one of your shirts in my bag. You can change into that and then we can hit up that restaurant if you're still up for it?"

He nods, a little too quickly you notice. It's adorable.

Then he cocks his head to the side. "Wait, why do you have one of my shirts?"

Then it's your turn to blush. "Ahh that... well it just looked so comfy, can you really blame me for stealing it?"

His eyes widen. "Wait just a minute, how many of my shirts do you have??"

You cough. "Just the one- why do you ask?"

He crosses his arms at you and raises an eyebrow. "Because I was wondering why my closet was looking a little sparse lately. And I thought maybe the washer just ate them all."

"Haha... funny... uh, about that..." You scratch your head sheepishly.

He roll his eyes in mock annoyance but then he smiles. "I'm sure you look better in them than I do anyway. I suppose you can keep them. But you owe me some new shirts!"

You laugh, holding your hands up in surrender. "Alright, alright. Will do. After you buy me dinner, I did just save your sorry ass." You tease.

And the two of you continue on like that the rest of the night, just joking, laughing, drinking, and slowly the line between friends and more than friends starts to blur. Hoshina thinks to himself, maybe he does have a chance in hell with you.

After all, who the fuck steals half of someone's closet?

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

"Sure I can't convince you to ditch Narumi and join my division instead? I make a mean omurice."

[thewritetofreespeech]

Could I request Alucard/Adrian with an s/o who uses food-based magic? Enlarging the food's size, turning anything she touches into food, etc.

Alucard + s/o with food magic abiliites

The smoldering embers of the battle were starting to fade as the sun came up, and the night creatures retreated back to their holds for another day. For now, these people were safe. But at what price.

“It’s hard to say how many are dead. The magistrate is going to take a roster of the town to account for who’s missing.”

“God bless bureaucracy.” Trevor scoffed at Sypha, as he coiled up his whip and put it back on his hip. “Where would we be without lists?”

“Order gives humans a sense of purpose. A sense of control.” Alucard said. Looking around at the chaos still around them and wondering how these people were going to make sense of it.

“What these people need are resources!” Trevor hissed incredulously. “They don’t need an accounting system right now. They need food, water, medicine, homes. Does anyone really think knowing who’s dead and who isn’t is going help these people when their starving because the night creatures burned down the stores & larders? It’s stupid. What we need todo is work on…where is everyone going?”

During Trevor’s rant about the system, the 3 noticed that people were starting to shuffle off to one corner. Then they were running in the same direction. It couldn’t be them running for cover, as the attacks would be quiet until nightfall, so they went to investigate.

“What’s all this?” Alucard asked as he came upon the crowd. Huddled masses pushing and shoving to get to the front where [Y/N] was standing with a larger caldron, doling out what appeared to be soup.

“Wait your turn!”

Alucard glared at the nasty, but most likely just desperate man, who yelled at him. But before he could say anything [Y/N] called out, “hey! None of that! There’s enough for everyone so if you all remain patient and kind to one another, you’ll all get some.”

The trio didn’t bother with the crowd anymore and just circled around to [Y/N]. “Seriously, what is all this?”

“These people were hungry. I wanted to help.” They replied. Never stopping in their stirring or dispensing of soup.

“Where did you get the stuff to make it?” Sypha asked. “I thought the night creatures burned down the long-term stores and most of the provisions yesterday.”

“They did. But they didn’t get everything. And where there’s a little hope…” They picked up one sad looking carrot in their hand and, soon enough, the carrot had turned as big & plump as any prize-winning root at the fair. “We can all get by.”

Alucard smiled softly. He forgot, sometimes, that the had a knack for ‘food magic’. An odd, mostly unpracticed type of magic that used organic ingredients as their source. It was similar to potion making but with the trick they had developed for actually alternating the organic source’s size. He usually forgot since he didn’t need to eat often, and it wasn’t a magic that came up in battle, but of what a joy it was to have it after the battle it seemed.

“So, this is what you’ve been doing for the past few hours?” Alucard asked softly. Suddenly noticing the people outside the line with bowls and warmed faces.

“I’m…not as good at fighting the good fight as the rest of you.” [Y/N] said, sounding a little dejected. “But this is something I can do. Something I can do to help keep people safe.” They smiled at a young boy, dirty from the streets and probably hiding in a safe hole, as he gleefully took his soup and ran off. “I know it’s not much, but I want to help where I can.”

“It’s a lot.” Trevor pipped up suddenly. Getting all the group’s attention, as he had for once been positive on the situation. “I’ll go find what I can when I’m searching the perimeter. See if there’s anything else they missed.”

“Me too. I’ll see if there’s any other dishes we can find that aren’t broken. Maybe linens for bandages? I can help with that.”

Sypha and Trevor took off on their missions, but Alucard stayed behind. “It’s not nothing you know.” He told them when they were alone. Getting [Y/N]’s full attention for a moment as they looked at him. “It’s not nothing to help people. I can’t help people. Only protect. They aren’t the same thing, and…I don’t have a pure heart like you do to do it.”

[Y/N] blushed at Alucard’s compliment, and he leaned down to kiss their cheek before he left them to get back to their work. He had his own work to do, getting through the next wave. But between all of them maybe this town would make it.

In any case, for now, at least these people had a hot meal and peace of mind. If only just for a moment.

[arale2126]

Cherik fics - That ONE line - 117

「I feel like I should keep an index of the one line in each Cherik fics that impresses me to no end, making want to bookmark it immediately.」

Like My Mother Before Me by DelightToWrite

Summary: So much of a person depended on their parents. Charles was like his own mother. He was an unlovable asshole, a neglectful drunk, a bitter hermit. He wanted, so desperately he craved, a family. Erik was right, he was drowning. But not in alcohol or drugs, Charles was drowning in his own guilt. In trying desperately to be different, he had inadvertently become just like his mother. "...You will follow your mother's footsteps. You will continue to neglect those around you, until they grow resentment. Charles, they will bury you the same way you buried your own mother. With indifference."

OR

Charles tries desperately not to become like his mother.

The quote:

In truth, he hated opening up to others. And he loathed that he hated that. Why couldn't he be vulnerable with his friends? Why did he feel like such a burden, for simply sharing his grief with others? Isn't that what friends are for? Why did he constantly have the need to uphold a perfect image, someone who was always strong, a rock to those who are not. Someone who could bear the weight of the world without ever breaking. Truth is, he broke. No, he shattered.

+1+2+…

Could that be precisely what attracted him to Erik? He liked arguing with him because that's the only type of relationship he knew. He's uncomfortable when things are calm, because that usually means a storm is coming. He loved him, even though he abandoned him, because it reminded him of his mother's neglectfulness, it felt familiar, and he clung to the familiarity. Perhaps he loved him still because he abandoned him, not despite. He liked him for his explosive, selfish, impulsive personality because that's the type of personality he grew to be comfortable around.

+…

The greenish hue painted his skin, reminding him of all the things he was and will never be again. A professor, a philanthropist, an optimist, a pacifist, a mentor, a paragon of virtue, a brother, a lover, a friend.

+the lines that broke me

Charles uncapped a bottle, drinking straight out of it, unable to tilt it far enough to have the stream pour in fast enough, "You were my best friend." Erik sat in Charles' sofa, opening his arms and shrugging, "You were useful to me. You no longer are. Nothing personal."

+fajsdhfjksdhfldsa

No matter how many times he picked up the pieces of his soul, he would never be able to glue himself back together. A piece will always be missing, there will always be holes in his heart. He could buy a new rug, he could cover the holes with bandages, but that corner of his room and that corner of his heart will never be the same again.

+Harpy Hare, where have you buried all your children?

He shook his head, "I don't have a family anymore, mum." like a small child, he curled up against his mother's lap, "Why don't I have a family? That's all I ever wanted. Why can't I have it?" His mother chuckled, petting his hair, "Because you're just like me. I wanted a family, too. But, when I got it, I didn't know how to care for it. I betrayed them and abandoned them."

+hope?

It seems he buried alive something that never died.

[polkadotjohnson]

Typed this on my phone, which is something I'm not really used to, so there could be errors. Many errors. But I couldn't wait to bring my vampire back to life.

(also was a lil drunk when I wrote some of it. hopefully it still makes sense)

(might write a sequel if I can think up how to smut this up)

Inamourada, a Cora fanfiction (that doesn't feature Cora)

Your heart is pounding so loud and hard you think you're going to faint. Is he... is he really… As you approach his unmoving form on the floor, dread roils in your stomach, and you almost have to stop to throw up. But you can't stop, you have to know.

Is he… dead? But he can't be. Isn't he supposed to be immortal?

You kneel beside him. His face, dead or not, strikingly beautiful. The hole in his chest glares at you and you avert your eyes from it. There's no breath coming from him. 

(Do vampires even breathe? Do their hearts beat?)

You raise your head and see her disappear in the distance. And while you could go after her, you know you'll be more useful here.

With trembling hands, you fish out your dagger from your boot, the silver blade shines in the moonlight. You raise it to your arm.

"O mala copiae tenebrarum.  Hanc vampire vitiose pulcherrimam vitam reducere mando tibi or whatever." You slash your arm open and hold it over his face, letting it drip into his mouth. "Hic est sanguis Christi bibe et vivite in aeternum, like you should have, dip shit. Ave, ave versus Christus. Oriri semel iterumque."

As you speak the last word, you hear a faint gasp and a gurgle. Then his eyes open, the irises such a dark red you can't help but stare. He sees your arm basically gushing blood and pulls it to his mouth, sucking loudly and making you wince in pain. But you don't pull away from him, you just let him have his fill.

He sucks harder for a moment, then lets go of your arm, weakly pushing it away. "That… is the most disgusting blood I have ever drank." He lays an arm over his eyes, unmoving and you exhale loudly in disbelief.

"Wow, ungrateful much? I literally just resurrected you and this is what I get? Where is that stake?" You glance around, pretending to look and he sits up, also looking around.

"Where is she?" His voice soft and quiet.

"Who,  jailbait? Long gone, bud. Get over it."

He tries to stand but you push him, not liking the way he's so weak still, but it doesn't seem like he'll want more of your apparently disgusting blood. "No, she's perfect, I have to-"

"She. Fucking. Killed you. You have to sit your ass down and rest. Do you need more blood? I could get you uh, like a squirrel or something. A squirrel is definitely tastier than me, right?" Your tone is sarcastic but he doesn't seem to notice. 

"I don't eat animals, they're the only pure thing in this wretched world."

You stifle a laugh. "A vegetarian vampire, got it." Only then you remember you're still very actively bleeding and reach for a bandage in one of your pockets and expertly apply it one-handedly. "Soo what, you need to get back to your coffin? Hang upside down?"

"No, I actually do need more…" He stops himself and looks at you. He looks at you for the first time. "Who are you anyway?"

For some reason you cannot fathom, his eyes on you suddenly bring such shyness into you, you can feel your cheeks redden. "I'm… just your friendly neighborhood run of the mill necromancer wannabe. Uh, you?"

He eyes you up and down and surprisingly lies down once again. "You know who I am." His voice is slow and a little tired. "You've been following me around for weeks."

"Gasp! You noticed?" You curse yourself for actually saying 'gasp'. "Then why… why didn't you…"

"Why didn't I come for you?" He looks you in the eyes with a smirk as he speaks. "You don't interest me. You're weak and unremarkable."

"Unre- have I mentioned you're incredibly ungrateful? I did a spell to bring you back to life, don't think I can't turn that around, mister."

"I don't remember asking you to resurrect me."

"Well of course not, you were dead! Why do you-"

"What do you want? For your troubles?"

You hate being interrupted, but since he just asked the magic question, you let it go. "Isn't it obvious?" You stand up and do a little twirl so he can see your get up. Your black clothes and chains, your tall boots and dark makeup. "I want you to bite me!"

He has the gall to roll his eyes. "Great. Another goth."

"Excuse me? What do you mean-"

"I don't want you. Biting you means we would have a connection, and I don't…" He looks you dead in the eyes again. "Want you."

You don't know whether to cry or scream. So you do both. "Agh fuck you! Arrogant prick who can't even decide between a teen and a cougar and then ends up with neither that's what you get haha sucks to suck fuck you dick go to hell and die again for all I care…" You breathe in to spew some more insults and turn around but hesitate to leave him despite his words. He decides it for you.

"Wait."

"What? What could you possibly want?"

"Help me get back home and I'll consider it."

"I…" You'll hate yourself for this. But deep down you know that if you don't do it, you'll hate yourself even more. "Fine. Can you stand up, o master vampire?"

He punches you, but it's more of a shove. "Keep up that insolence and see where it gets you."

You hold back a sigh and help him up, his claws dig some into your arm sending an intrusive shiver down your spine. 'What the actual fuck', you mouth. You feel them go slightly deeper and he's up. "Where to? Castle? Cave? Futuristic wood and glass house?"

"Just… keep walking."

*

"You're fucking kidding me." Calling the house dilapidated would be a compliment. More like decrepit. Rotting. Dying. His house looks like it's dying. "Is it haunted?"

"I live in it."

"Good point." You push the front door and it opens with the loudest creak you've ever heard. "You must have one hell of a security system."

"Yes, it's called being a powerful creature of the night with such a strong aura of terror no one dares to enter." You stop and look at him to see if he's actually serious, but he's rolling his eyes again. "Why would I worry about intruders? If someone enters, they get eaten."

To be fair, the house is so secluded, deep down into the woods, a place you never knew existed, even though you've walked through these woods your whole life. You doubt anyone else knows about it.

The living room is beyond filthy, leaves and dirt everywhere, every item of furniture covered in deep layers of dust. He plops down into a dingy couch, ignoring your horrified expression. When he doesn't say anything else, you take the chance to explore, morbid curiosity winning over your desire to go home and take a long, warm shower.

The kitchen smells putrid, and soon you realize why. The fridge door is ajar and there's nothing but spoiled food in it. Dirty dishes in the sink. Dirty pans on the table. Does he eat actual food?

You return to the living room and notice some pictures above the fireplace mantel. A couple. Man and woman. Three kids. "Was this their house? Did you kill them?"

"You're still here. Wonderful."

You know he's not going to answer you, so you try something else. "Well?"

He sighs. "Well… what?"

"Are you going to do it or not?"

"I said… I would think about it. Go home and leave me alone, I can't stand to look at you anymore."

You shake your head to stop your nerves from shaking too. "After all I've done, all I've gone through, this is how I get repaid. Story of my life."

"I don't care, go away."

You shake some more, wondering why the hell you didn't bring your cigarettes with you. You could really use one right about now. "I hope you die during the night."

"No, you don't."

The only way you can think to describe what you're feeling is that you're falling for him. You're falling in hate with him.

"See you, sucker." You smile through your tears and go home.

*

You walk through the cemetery every other night, but don't see him again. He used to stalk around, looking at graves and breaking into mausoleums to do god knows what. When you first saw him, he was perched on top of a family grave like a gargoyle. You knew immediately what he was. The rumors were true. Which meant your childhood dream of becoming one could come true. If only you had the guts to approach him.

You followed him around, watched him meet up with the blonde woman, wondering what he could possibly want with her. But other than her, you never saw him bite anyone else.

Then…

Then there was the scuffle with the girl and he died, just like that. It surprised you how strong she was and how he seemed to be holding back.

You wonder if you'll be able to fight like that too if he bites you.

You're weak.

His words reverberate in your head.

You're weak and unremarkable.

You know that. You know. He didn't have to say it.

The scar in your arm doesn't itch anymore. You rip the bandage off and throw it aside. It's completely healed. You want to grab your dagger and open it up again. Instead, you light up a cigarette and inhale deeply, keeping the smoke in until you calm down some. When you blow the smoke, it's clear, almost transparent and you do it again, deeper this time until your heart calms down and you feel that sweet lightness all over your body.

One poison over the other, you suppose.

"Where are you?"

You're still looking at the scar when it hits you. Your stomach drops.

I actually do need more…

You jump from the bench but stumble still lightheaded, that head almost cracking open when you hit the ground.

How many days has it been? Six? Eight? The spell doesn't work twice on the same person. If he dies again, it'll be for good.

Your stamina is deplorable, but you're running. Breathless, legs feeling like they're about to fall off but you're running.

You let out a scream of frustration when you can't find the house and search around some more, trying not to fall in complete despair.

Were there any reference points? Any landmarks? Anything different? No. You couldn't remember anything. Nothing remarkable surrounding the mysterious house of the mysterious vampire.

Nothing at all. That was the point. You were looking for something, turning at every tree that looked different, every twisted path you came across. But the way was unremarkable.

Just like you.

In less than five minutes you're there. The door cracked open just like you left it, and you dread peering inside. But you do it anyway.

"Knock knock, Avon calling."

He's still on the couch where you left him to die.

"Hey asshole." You're trembling, your voice is nothing more than a whisper. He was pale before but now his face is sallow and haggard. The smallest crinkle on his brow fills you with such relief that you fall on your knees beside him. "Looks like you've got no choice but to have more of this disgusting meal, huh." You pat your boot but the dagger isn't there. In your crazed rush, you've probably lost it somewhere along the way. "Shit. Uh, stay here." He exhales softly while you run to the kitchen, scouring the drawers to find an at least somewhat clean knife. There's nothing, they're all drenched in the filthy sink water. "Ugh. Fuck." You grab one with the tips of your fingers and wipe it on your clothes as best as you can and make a new cut next to the last one and all but shove the open wound into his mouth. He only laps at it at first, but then his eyes open wide and he sucks long and hard. Instead of wincing, it sends another unwelcome shiver through your body. In a moment, he's grabbing onto your arm with both hands, claws buried in your skin and you turn your head away so he won't see your face.

"Better. So… so much better." His voice is so weak that you almost want to comfort him, but he gets back to it and this time it hurts a little. It should probably hurt more with the voracity he's going at it, but your head is so light that you're not sure what you're feeling anymore.

That's enough, you're gonna suck me dry. The words are only in your head, but he looks at you and keeps sucking. It's like that story about the guy who tries to help out a snake only for it to bite and kill him. 'It's your own fault. You knew damn well I was a snake and yet you've offered yourself to me.'

Was that how it went?

*

When you open your eyes, you find that hell is nothing like you pictured it. There's no lava pits, no devils with pitchforks dancing around and torturing people. Just decaying flowery wallpaper and dirty sheets. A couple of fresh oranges over a nightstand and a familiar knife.

Your arm is throbbing and you can't move it, but it's not bleeding. Maybe he really did suck you dry.

You devour the fruits without hesitation, even though you don't usually like them. They were so fresh, a complete contrast of everything else in that house.

You get up from the bed when you're done and almost take the knife downstairs to be washed, but then you remember the state of the kitchen, and you really don't want to part with your meal so soon. Soft sunlight dances through the curtains and a warm breeze makes you walk to the window. There's an orchard, and it seems to be well taken care of. Another discrepancy with the rest of the house.

Does he take care of it? You can't imagine that.

You wonder where he is. Probably asleep, since it seems to be early morning. You open the door and it's a long hallway with other doors you're for some reason are weary about opening.

"Vampire?" This is ridiculous, you should know his name. Yet, you've never asked.

"Not now." His voice is soft, but not weak as it was last night. You can't tell from which room it came from and you don't try to find out.

"I'll come back later."

You leave without another word and go about your things in a daze all day. And when the sun sets, you run. There's no need to, not anymore. But you run.

*

"So it wasn't gross this time?" You've just finished sweeping the floor and now you're seriously considering whether you'll have the guts to brave the sink.

He watches you for a moment, leaning in the doorway with his arms crossed. "Why don't you give me some more so I can decide?"

"Sure. If you take it yourself. With your fangs."

"You're persistent."

"One of my best traits." Not believing your luck, you put on the rubber gloves you've just found. They're somewhat gross too, but it's better than just having to shove your hands directly into the putrid water.

"Why? Why do you want to become a soulless monster who thinks of nothing but making people suffer? Nothing but feeding and spreading discord?"

You glare at him for a moment before turning your attention back to the dishes. "Do you have to do those things? I mean, besides the feeding. Can't you just like, I dunno, live your life without ruining other people's?"

"Where is the fun in that?"

"...You're despicable."

"And yet, you're doing my dishes."

If your life had a laugh track, you're sure it would pop up right about now.

"Been meaning to ask. What's your name?"

A few seconds later he still hasn't said anything, and when you turn your head to look at him, he's frowning and looking out the window. "Stay here." He leaps out the door and you realize you've missed seeing him moving this unnaturally fast. He used to do it a lot on the cemetery and-

Wait. Why did he tell you to stay here?

You glance out the window, but don't see anything, it's pitch black out. Then you hear fighting noises. Oh no, did Buffy return? Like hell you're letting her kill him again. You grab a (now gloriously clean) knife and run outside. But the one he's fighting is not a girl this time, but another man. And they're both letting the other have it. "Hey! What's going on?" The fight stops abruptly, the vampire holding the other man by the neck while said man just stares at you.

"What's that? You got your own Renfield?" The guy sounds amused despite the blood running down his nose.

"I told you to stay inside!"

You scoff. "Are you nuts? Since when do I respond to you?" You approach them with the knife by your side and the vampire tries to push the other man away. The man ignores his attempt and in a moment, he's standing right in front of you.

Oh. He's a vampire too. Handsome, but not quite as handsome as y-

No. You did not just think of him as 'your vampire'. Nope. That's not a thing that just happened.

"So… what's your story, Creature Feature?"

"I-"

"Don't talk to him." The vampire pulls the man by the collar and throws him on the ground.

"You were always the jealous type, weren't you Vincent? Never willing to share your toys."

Vincent. You have a name now.

"Yes, Sebastian. And as you can see I am not dead, you can go home now." He glares at you, willing you to get inside with his eyes, but now you're too intrigued to leave.

"You were, though. I felt it." Sebastian stands up turning his back to you so he can talk to Vincent. Ignored, as always. But this time, you don't mind.

Also, he felt it? Were they connected, like Vincent said it happens? Did one of them bite the other? You have so many questions.

"I was just weak. Had some indigestible meal and fell sick."

"Who? Renfield over here?"

You decide to interfere, because for some reason he doesn't want the other man to find out that he did indeed die. "Yeah, I'm inedible, apparently. And I was the one who offered, so I felt bad for making him sick and now I'm doing his chores."

"Hmm. I'm not sure that's how it works. It felt just like it did with Chr-"

"I am fine." Vincent smiles, forced and awkward. "I obviously did not die, how do you explain me standing here right now?"

Sebastian looks Vincent up and down. "That's what I'd like to know."

"There is nothing…" His voice is loud, and he takes a deep breath, forcing that unnatural smile again. "To know. You might have felt me fade away for a moment thanks to the foulness of the blood I had consumed."

Sebastian crosses his arms. "Never heard of something like that."

"What are you, the expert in vampire lore? There are many things we don't know, Sebastian. Like what are you still doing here since I already told you that everything is okay?"

The man dusts himself up, eyeing you one last time. "Be seeing you."

"No, you won't." Vincent grabs your shoulders and starts pushing you back inside as Sebastian leaves.

You can't help yourself. "So, what was all that jealousy about? Do I do it for you now? Are you biting me then?"

"My brother has a strong persuasive strength. If he wants, he can turn you into his slave for life. If that is your thing, make sure to have a long, nice talk to him next time he shows up."

Oh, brother. It explains the similar looks. "So, what, you're from a family of vampires? A clan?"

He breathes out a short laugh. "I wonder what kind of fiction you consume. And speaking of consume, it's time for dinner." He raises his eyebrows at you, and you sigh.

"Fine, but you gotta stop before I pass out this time." You cut up your arm and offer it to him. "What did you do before you had your own personal blood bank?"

He looks like he's not going to answer, so you pull your arm back.  "I can persuade people too. But differently. Everyone has different strengths and weaknesses."

"So you could persuade me."

"Why waste energy when you're so willing?" He sucks on the wound with considerably less fervor, but his noises are still enthusiastic. Was it a change in your diet? That couldn't possibly be it, you always eat the same junk. Then…

He pulls your arm closer for a moment and licks the wound clean. Goosebumps start forming almost immediately.

You wonder how healthy it is to lose this much blood so often. "Would you grab me another orange?"

"Help yourself." He turns and leaves before you have a chance to ask him about the orchard.

*

Next time you visit, he's actually hanging upside down from a tree, and there's a crumpled form in the ground next to him.

"Who's that?"

"Dinner." Is all he says.

You stretch your neck to see the person's face, but don't recognize him. "Is he dead?"

"Probably not. I'll take him back in a moment."

It's out of your mouth before you can think about it. "Was he tastier than me?"

"Not really. Too much alcohol in his system. And probably some illicit substances too."

It makes you happy. You want to kick yourself for feeling this way, but it does. "And why are you hanging like that? Trying to turn into a bat?"

He raises himself on the branch like a gymnast and jumps off. "Just exercising a little. What do you want?"

You almost scream at him. He knows what you want. "...Can I finish cleaning? I don't like to leave it half done."

He shakes his head, throwing the (hopefully) unconscious man over his shoulder. "Suit yourself." In a blink, he's gone, and you stride to the house. You're curious to see more of the second floor, but also weary. Are you going to find corpses on the beds? The house owners maybe?

You examine the pictures above the fireplace again. Man, woman, three boys. There are individual portraits too, which you didn't notice the other day, and you recognize the face in one of them. Large, beautiful eyes, and despite the photo being black and white, you're sure they're not red. Possibly brown. Thin, long, nose and perfect cheekbones, although a little chubby, given how young he seems to be. An innocent smile the type you could never imagine on that wretch's face. "So you weren't always evil." In one of the other portraits you think you can recognize Sebastian, younger too and also smiling like an angel. There's no portrait of the other boy.

So this really was his house.

In another picture, the woman who's obviously his mother is looking after the orchard, and in the next, he and her are playing in it, both with dazzling smiles, and that answers another one of your questions. Maybe he's less of a monster than he lets on, if he wants to keep her memory alive like that.

The bedrooms are considerably easier to clean than the kitchen and the bathrooms, but when you're done, you're still so tired that you fall on the bed, a different room than the one you woke up in the other day. There were a few games and old magazines, some of the pages starting to crumble. You stored them as safely as you could in the closet.

The third brother probably died young. You leave the bed with a start, afraid he'll get mad at you for lying in it. "Vincent? Are you home?"

"Yes."

And because he's answering all your questions today, you follow his voice to the next door, one you haven't been to yet. Maybe he'll tell you more.

The room is a library, and on the few walls without any bookshelves, there are paintings, beautiful works of art from artists you don't recognize. He's sitting on an ancient but comfortable looking chair, the book in his hands so worn out you can't make out the cover. "Would you tell me about your brother?"

He sighs. "I already did, he's an insufferable maniac with a penchant for torture."

You can't believe he's the lesser of two evils. "No, I meant… the other one."

He raises his eyes from the book, staring a hole into you, and you swallow, taking a small step back without even realizing it. "I'm sorry. Forget… forget I asked. Pretend I didn't. I'm gonna go grab the broom so I can clean up a bit in here." Great, look what you've done. Now he won't answer anything anymore.

You don't even look up at him when you return to the library, but you can see he's still sitting in the same place, book now forgotten over his lap. You feel his eyes on the back of your neck while you sweep the floor and you can't focus on it. You're sure you've sweeped the same spot three times and it's still dirty.

"She came in one night and killed my parents." His sudden voice makes you jump, and you're pretty sure you let out some sort of embarrassing noise too. "Ate both of them right in front of us. Then she started feeding off of me and my brothers. Her control was absolute. I was twelve, Sebastian was ten. And Christopher…" He sighs shortly. "Christopher was six. It was like that for years. Years. She'd take turns with us so we wouldn't get too weak. And she taught us things. How to play instruments, how to fight. I guess she wanted to start that clan you're so crazy about. And when I turned fourteen, she taught me something else too and I was in love with her. She was perfect. I couldn't get enough of her. Her cold murder of my beloved parents a distant memory in the back of my mind.

"She let me have a drop of her blood when I was eighteen and it tasted like death and it was exquisite. I started killing for her, bring her victims. Christopher was weak, too weak. I'd bring her someone else on his days or offer myself again. I don't remember how old I was when she bit me. Twenty four? Twenty eight? Sebastian was so jealous of her that he begged her to bite him too and she did. That night she had us both, even though he could barely move as the bite took hold. She didn't care.

"And just like that there were more mouths to feed and we'd have to go far away so the townsfolk wouldn't get suspicious. One week we destroyed an entire village. It sated us enough that we could return and settle down for a while.

"She didn't have any reason to bite him then, we were so full. But she did it anyway. There was no rhyme or reason to her. I knew he wasn't going to make it. He was weak. He was going to perish on the first night, unable to handle the transformation. I fed him all night, holding his hand and wiping his face, and he pulled through. I dreamed of my parents, about how disappointed they were in me. Of what I'd become and when I woke up, her spell was broken. I ran upstairs to my parents bedroom, which she had taken for herself and almost screamed. The perfect creature was nowhere in sight. On the bed there was only an old shroud, filthy and foul, rotting. I touched it and she grabbed my arm. Her face a waking nightmare. There were no eyes, only empty holes. A bat nose, horrendous, wet and red. And her fangs were infinite. Her fangs were eternal. I was falling for it again, staring into them and seeing that beautiful demon again, her soft hair, perfect body. I leaned in to kiss her but was pushed away. I fell hard against the door and Christopher was there and his hand was on the window latch while he pulled her to him with the other.

"Don't!"

He smiled and opened it. "I love you."

"He vanished before I could do anything, turned to dust before my eyes, but he'd taken the thing in the bed with him. They were both gone just like that, and I felt like my body was imploding. Coming apart from the inside. In an instant Sebastian was there too and he picked me up and held me tight.

"He was gone the next day and I stayed."

"..." No matter how you try, you can't think of a single thing to say. Your feet feel like they're stuck to the floor. "I… I'm…"

He's in front of you in an instant, his claws softly scratching your chin. "Will I have to spell it out for you? I won't bite you because you remind me of him too much. So you can quit this housekeeping nonsense and leave." He turns to do just that but you manage to grab his arm

"Wait! Can't… can't I keep coming anyway? I won't bug you about it anymore…"

"And why would you want to do such a thing?"

"I like y- your company."

He buffs. "You're a terrible judge of character."

"Yeah, I know. I'm gonna finish up the library now." You push him away weakly and he leaves to do who knows what.

Only then do you try to wrap your mind on everything he's just told you. You can't say it justifies the way he is, but it certainly explains it.

You know your chances of him biting you have dropped considerably, but you don't really care right now. You didn't lie to him, you really do enjoy his company, asshole as he may be.

You can only imagine it has to do with your apparent masochistic tendencies.

*

You still let him drink from you every now and then, and he isn't shy about letting you know how tasty it is. You are. You'd blush, but your blood leaves your body before it can reach your face.

"Was it really bad the first time you drank it?"

"It tasted like poison." He licks the wound and you watch his tongue, feeling a little thirsty yourself.

He's a murderer. A monster. You really shouldn't be around him. But… you want to be like him, always have. You've told yourself time and again that if your dream ever came true that you'd only go after evil people, rapists and politicians and whatnot. But what if you change too? What if you don't care?

You barely care now.

Maybe the both of you should be locked up.

It's a moot point anyway, since he's adamant about not biting you. Maybe you should prove to him that you could be strong. You're almost sure you've seen some dumbbells when you cleaned the attic.

(He did mean physically strong, right?)

You can barely lift it one inch off the ground. "Great. Uh, maybe I could start with just the bar?"

You hear glass breaking downstairs and freeze. You were sure he was asleep, as the sun hasn't set yet. "Vincent?"

There's a commotion outside, and from the window you can see people. People with torches, and the smell of gasoline reaches your nose. "Fuck! Vincent!"

Your voice draws their attention and a rock flies right beside your head. You step back but it's too late. Everything goes dark.

*

"Ah…" Why does it hurt so much? And why is it so hot? "No…" You try to get up but there's something heavy on top of you. A beam from the ceiling apparently. But the real pain comes from whatever had impaled your stomach. A… stake? No, it's just another piece of wood. Too big to be a stake.

Is he dead?

"Vin… cent…"

"I'm here."

"You're okay." You taste blood on your cough.

"They're not. And neither…" He comes into view, disheveled and drenched in blood. "Are you." He lifts the beam off of you, and you're pretty sure most of your ribs are broken. "If I remove the other one you'll bleed out almost instantly."

"Then… if you bite me, it'll heal, right?"

He shakes his head, and while the look in his eyes is almost certainly sad, you're pretty sure it's because he's about to lose his favorite meal. "It would take a while for the bite to hold. Days. With Christopher it was fast because she was more powerful." He runs the back of his fingers over your face and you close your eyes.

"Can't… can't you do it anyway? I really wanted to feel your mouth on me at least once." It sounds vaguely sexual, but since you're dying, you couldn't care less.

You're not entirely sure if he kisses you out of pity or because there's so much blood coming off your mouth that he really doesn't want to miss that last snack. You thought it'd be cold, but when his tongue touches yours, it's warm and soft. "Do you think you're strong enough to bite me?"

"H-huh… I…" can barely speak, so no.

He touches one of your piercings but pulls his hand back with a hiss. "Silver. All of them?"

You nod. That is some piece of vampire lore it had escaped you. He can't touch silver. Finally it makes sense why your blood tasted bad that first time when you remember your long lost silver dagger.

"Can you take one off?"

You try to raise your arm. "Can't… move…"

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, going back to the piercing, struggling with it due to his claws. When he gets it off, he punctures and rips his neck open with it before tossing it aside. "Have as much as you can." He leans over you, his pale bleeding neck right by your mouth. So you do.

The taste makes you recoil at first, but you keep going and then it's delicious. A nectar. The best thing you've ever tasted. "By the way," his voice is weaker. "I have no idea if this is going to work, and if I pass out, be prepared for a fiery death."

You release his neck. "Then go."

He just shakes his head and kisses you again, and you hold him tight against you.

*

"Do you think Brazil has a high crime rate?"

"Are you suggesting we move to a place that is known as the tropical country?"

"Hmmweellll… why don't you want to go to Romania?"

He looks at you as if you just asked the dumbest question he's ever heard. "Competition."

"Oh."

"Besides… it's where Sebastian lives."

"Are you kidding me? Then we really should go! We could stay with him until we find some place."

"Have you forgotten?" He pushes you against the side of the burnt house and bites your neck. "I don't share my toys."

"Ah…" His comment should make you want to punch him, but his bite makes your knees too weak for that. "Let's just drive then. We can live in the car until we figure it out." You make sure all the blinds and window covers are in the back seat and open the passenger door for him. "Sorry about the house."

He shakes his head. "It was just a place. They can't take what matters the most." He taps the side of his head with a claw in case you didn't understand. Then he sits down, holding the vase with the seedling, and you almost tell him to put it in the backseat, but the way he's looking at it tells you maybe he wants to keep it closer to him just a little longer.

[fangsforiris]

Hi! Could you possibly write smth about Reiji helping an s/o (gender neutral) who has OCD? Like what he would do to help them w/ their intrusive thoughts? Thank you!!

── ･ ｡ﾟ⟡ 🌑 ⟡ ˚｡ ･ ──

Reiji with an S/O with OCD HC’s

── ･ ｡ﾟ⟡ 🌑 ⟡ ˚｡ ･ ──

Word Count: 965

TW!! GRAPHIC IMAGERY

🌑  Initially, he’d find some sort of relatability with them. 

🌑  I’d like to think or headcanon that Reiji also has a form of OCD. 

🌑  However he does a lot to ensure it isn’t as noticeable. 

🌑  (Unfortunate for him that Shuu knows, however doesn’t make an attempt to do anything from the outside. He knows how much Reiji loathes his being– and him acting as a potential trigger makes it all the harder.)

🌑  Like whenever he has impulses, that being of bodily harm (mainly,) he’d exercise it on himself. 

🌑  This of course, is an unhealthy coping mechanism. 

🌑  One that he wouldn’t want his S/O to entertain. 

🌑  He’d want his S/O to be better than him in this front. A part of Reiji wouldn’t know how to feel if he let someone else down, or didn’t prove his worth to the one he loves. 

🌑  S/O would find out the reason why Reiji wears his gloves prominently. 

🌑  TW!! (It’s due to him scratching at his skin, clawing deep with his nails in an attempt to find bone. In fact, on his left hand he often finds himself having to wrap a bandage before putting on his glove. This is because of the obvious– he’d craved himself a small patchy hole that displayed bone.)

🌑  (Of course, his vampiric healing couldn’t repair all the damages, so a prominent gap located a few spots above the wrist, where the prominent Flexor Carpi Radialis Muscle and Radial Artery are found.)

🌑  (Specifics on where it’s located– the vein and placement of the connecting wrist to the arm that is mainly used for blood samples. The FCR Muscle is also used as a tendon of sorts which stabilizes the carpus. The Radial Artery is just one of the arteries that deliver blood back to the heart.)

🌑  It’s good to note that Reiji understands. More than most. Especially with the impulsive and intrusive thoughts and how it tends to keep one up at night. 

🌑  He knows it does for him. 

🌑  So also having an S/O who struggles with the same thing feels less scary. 

🌑  He feels less alone in the matter, and thus would ensure the both of them work together as a unit. 

🌑  He’s highly educated on these sort of topics, and it isn’t shocking for him to have come into contact with others in the past who’ve had OCD.

🌑  So Reiji would have some experience. 

🌑  He’d make it a point to have a conversation about their OCD, more specifically address what it is he can do to support them.

🌑  However, he’d find himself drifted when bringing it up. 

🌑  Even in light meaningless conversation, something about being labeled as ‘mentally-ill’ (in his standards) or having to need more accommodation for his needs makes him feel less worthy. 

🌑  Reiji is a firm believer of ‘no weakness.’ Anything that seems close to it would send him into a frenzy. 

🌑  So whenever he attempts to help his S/O a small lingering feeling would be present, as if he was looking down on the both of them for their shared weakness. 

🌑  Despite it all, he’d do his best to understand what exactly triggers them. 

🌑  For example– he finds that the constant reminder of Shuu outdoing him is a trigger. 

🌑  More so in the sense that he wants to actively tear him apart, limb by limb. It gets aggressively worse for the amount of time he looks at the blond. 

🌑  TW!! Specifically around 8 seconds, where he finds himself in deep thought, unable to tear apart his gaze. The way he wants to consume Shuu is a problem. In too many ways. As if he can feel the blond’s skin in between his teeth, gnawing and grazing it. 

🌑  Either metaphorically and literally, Reiji can’t seem to decide what’ll be better to remedy his aching mind.

🌑  It haunts him, just as much as his need to be rid of these impulses along with these triggers. 

🌑  TW!! And for that he’d forcefully brush his teeth before his gums started to bleed, reveling in the taste of his sin. 

🌑  TW!! It’s a trigger that mainly forces him to slam his fingers into the door, let the hinges dig into the tender flesh before he hears a familiar, yet soothing crack.

🌑  TW!! He’d continue this until he feels 80 surges of pain. It can be a throb, but hopefully enough for skin to break and blood to come rushing out his fingernails, turning his lithe fingers blue and purple. 

🌑  Something about the number 80 calms him. More so the number 8. Considering it’s the only perfectly symmetrical number, being able to be cut both horizontally and vertically, he finds solace in it. 

🌑  It’s gotten quite bad to the point where some of the maids would have to stop Reiji, this resulting in an upend of shame. 

🌑  Point is, Reiji has had his fair share and would do anything to ensure his S/O knows that he cares. In his own, semi-controlling way, of course. 

🌑  He’d most likely make them soothing teas and run comforting baths to ensure they aren’t losing their mind. 

🌑  He’d even go as far as to encourage other remedies. 

🌑  That being therapy or anything of the sort. 

🌑  Especially if he finds that he cannot provide the correct treatment as a professional. 

🌑  On the off chance they do take therapy, perhaps Reiji would attempt it himself. 

🌑  That would take some time, however. 

🌑  But Reiji has faith that they’ll get over it together, one step at a time.

[antihero-writings]

If Everything Breaks

Fandom: Pandora Hearts

Summary: Break doesn't like to dance…but maybe just this once || A tale of Break as he grows accustomed to his life with the Rainsworths. My fic for the Chained Pandora Hearts Zine! Written to go alongside @paraffinegg’s art!!

For a while I’ve had some headcanons on how Break picked his new name, and I thought, what better time to write about it than my zine fic!

When Kevin opened his eyes, the light was too bright. No…not eye-s. Just the one. The other’s empty socket throbbed like mad.

As said eye adjusted, vague shapes became clearer: the bed he was on, the tables and chairs around him—(too lavish a room for him)—and finally a person.

“My name...is Alice.” 

He shot up, knocking his head against the headboard.

She laughed...an oddly bright sound.

Framed in sunlight, a woman was smiling at him.

“Where am I?” he demanded, voice hoarse.

She raised an eyebrow. “It’s rude to address a duchess’ daughter so informally, you know.”

His eye widened. This unassuming lady was a duchess’ daughter?

“I am Shelly Rainsworth. ...You showed up at our door covered in blood. ...Quite an entrance, I must say.”

The Rainsworths? He searched his brain but couldn’t find record of the name.

“And you are?”

No one had asked his name in a long time. And if he had told them, well…he would’ve had to kill them.

No one had asked his name in a long time. And if he had told them, well…he would’ve had to kill them.

“You killed so many people! What a fool you were!”

Best not pronounce his identity just yet. For her sake.

“You don’t want to tell me.” There was no question, nor distrust there. “That’s fine. But I need something to call you.”

Her smile was not wicked, nor pitying.

It had been a long time since anyone treated him like more than a monster to be feared, or a toy to plucked and prodded—his important parts ripped out; broken like all the promises of a better world—

“...keep breaking just like that…

If all the people break, and the world breaks…

and everyone and everything goes mad…

Then I can be normal...right?”

He looked away, reaching for his left eye, finding bandages and blossoming pain where sight was supposed to be. He grimaced before answering softly:

“Break. Just…Break.”

********

A world bathed in golden light, music coiling in the atmosphere. With its cues feet glided, hands entwined, and dresses fluttered just above the ground like broken butterflies’ wings.

A cacophony of meaningless noise.

It’s all mad. 

Kevin stood by the stairs as if painted there.

It wasn’t that he disliked balls…okay, no, he did; balls, banquets…gatherings of any kind, really. But, this was the Rainsworth’s party, so attendance was mandatory.

Too bright lights, too loud music, gossip picking at his skull, and, well…people. It all blended together to create a painful buzzing in his head.

The crippled butterflies flew in the other direction around their cage.

“Come on, Cheshire, let’s dance!”

The dancing was the worst part. All those moves to remember, so much to get wrong...and for what? A good show? He had no talent for it, but hopping around, without stepping on anyone's toes—a trained monkey to someone else’s tune, and an uncompromising paradigm—held no appeal for him anyways.

Count the seconds. How many left?—

What do I have left to lose?

“Be it my arms, my legs…I grant you whatever your heart desires!

So please…change the past for me!”

Count the steps. Trace the sequence.

So many wasted moments in pursuits of stillborn dreams, the pattern already predetermined.

“It’s that man.” The hiss came from the side of the room.

He knew who they were talking about; whispers were his loyal familiar.

Kevin wasn’t looking, but he could feel her eyes burning holes in him, like she was trying to snuff out a cigarette.

“The one the Rainsworths took in.”

A second burning hole. His thoughts would surely catch fire.

He shut his eye, his knuckles white on the staircase railing.

“Have you seen his eyes?”

He silently refuted her statement: Nope. Just the one, Dear. The other was stolen away. Apparently they’re a precious commodity to little lunatics in the center of the universe.

“I know right? Red.”

Fingers shoved into his eye socket, pain boring through the hole left…

Screaming rending the air—was it his voice? His throat was burning—

“Fu-fu It’s beautiful.”

“They make him so creepy!”

“I still don’t understand why they took him in.”

“Don’t they know how to take out the trash?” Laughter like venom.

He leaned back, putting his hand on his forehead, trying not to let it travel to his socket.

The words wove around his inner works, pulling taut. He tried not to think of death—(theirs, or his own)—as an excuse, or escape. But too often his mind drifted to a darkened room full of coffins, and a little girl begging him to stay.

Was it his fault, then? Was all of this…inevitable?

“Break!”

The word was a crack in reality. Another, better world, reaching out to him.

If there is such a thing.

He looked up, as if at the bottom of a mineshaft, to see Shelly on the staircase above him.

The thing about being in a high position is one gains the luxury of indifference; those in power rarely care for those below them. They can afford not to.

She caught his eye and motioned for him to come up to her.

...The Rainsworths were different.

“Come quickly, there’s a man covered in blood!”

Dare he? Surely he must stay against the wall, he was plastered there after all.

This room shone gold. Yet the Rainsworths were brighter; they were a kind of light those in the room knew nothing of. So bright were they that those in the dark dare not touch them, for fear of being shown in the sun for what they really were.

She put her hands on her hips.

...He dare not disobey.

And what was becoming of him? He didn’t feel brighter since meeting them. What if it was the other way around? With each step closer he swore he could hear the pieces of his shattered heart jangling in his chest, and wondered if instead he’d leave them all bleeding on those sharp edges.

A blur went by, closely followed with—

“Dance with me, Reim!” Little Sharon came pelting after.

Reim hid behind Sheryl’s chair on the floor below, and Rufus proceeded to scold them.

Laughter like sunshine breaking after rain.

He looked at Shelly, who raised an eyebrow.

“That’s the first time I’ve seen you smile in perhaps…ever.”

He was smiling? Better wipe it off.

“So…something tells me you don’t feel like dancing.”

“I never cared for it, Shelly-sama.”

“Let’s see, you don’t care for;”—She counted on her fingers—“people talking to you, people looking at you, people…aaand dancing now.”

He rolled his eye. “I mean it. I really can’t.”

“What do you say to a lesson?” She held out her hand.

He stumbled back.

Was this some punishment? He tried to think of anything he’d done to deserve this.

“It would disgrace a lady such as yourself to be seen dancing with a servant.”

“We could use a good scandal.”

“I—” he looked away, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’d step on your toes.” He was running out of excuses.

“I don’t doubt it.”

What wasn’t she getting about this?

Shelly bounced her hand persistently.

No. He couldn’t. Shouldn’t. Wouldn’t. Dare touch her. Surely he’d infect her. Why was she bothering with him? Pestering him, like she always did. Like everyone always did. Treating him like a lost puppy, when they should just leave him in the rain to die.

The request was soft: “Please dance with me, Xerxes.”

He raised an eyebrow. “…What did you call me?”

He never spoke of his past, but he knew those whispers, ever at his heel, were indication enough of something dark in his ill-conceived adulthood.

“Well, I figured if you’re keeping a fake name, you’ll need a second. Or, in this case a first—Break sounds better as a surname, don’t you think? And I thought Xerxes was rather fitting.”

“How?” He snorted. “Isn’t it a name for ancient kings and heroes? I fail to see how I fit that.”

How could a knight wear the name of a king? How could a villain bear the name of a hero?

“That’s why I picked it.”

He backed up, his eye widening.

He didn’t understand what she was, or why she ever spoke to him. All that light was sickening...yet…

This woman saw him, not as a monster, or a toy…but as some sort of hero. How was that possible?

The name didn’t fit right. But she smiled at him, and though the light was sickening... it was oddly warm.

“Break might not like to dance, but tonight we are not Break and Shelly. I am the Queen of Hearts, and you are my Mad Hatter.”

“...Who said I was mad?”

She grinned.

“You must be, or you wouldn’t have come here.”

He could choose to turn away, leave this place, believe the whispers snaking through him. Reject the name, her kindness, her light.

He sighed, averted his eye—

Just this one. 

And took her hand.

[rileyssmiles]

Dungeons and Humans

In a fantasy setting where humans are tiny and the rest of the fantastical races are giant, a human woman that has been secretly assisting a party of adventurers finds herself in trouble when she is discovered by a curious tiefling. Word Count: 1,702

AO3 Link

“Come on out, little one," Allynna placed her palm near the crevice she saw the tiny being scurry into. "I won't hurt you." Her voice was soft and quiet. She made special care to hide her fangs behind her plush lips, so as to not further frighten the poor thing.

Inside, Lana pressed her body against the dark walls of the cavern. She held her hand over her mouth as she tried to steady her breathing. Every human clan had one rule in common: don't get caught. And now, she was trapped in a collapsing hole, with her only way out leaving her at the mercy of a monster with teeth almost half her size. She held her breath and continued to listen to the outside, hoping for an opportunity to escape.

"This is a waste of our time!" Ashero shouted. The highlands elf was rather grumpy. Though this was no news to his comrades, his poor attitude was amplified by the injury on his leg.

"This place could collapse any minute!" As if to reiterate his point, the ruins shook, and small pieces of rubble rained upon the adventurers' heads.

"Quit yer shoutin' and hold still! Yer gonna bring the whole damn place down on us!" Gamdon grumbled as he continued to wrap the elf's wounds. Their healer had already finished mending the more gruesome parts of the injury, it merely needed a few bandages. A simple process that would take but a moment, had Ashero not continued to fidget, much to the dwarf's annoyance.

Ashero impatiently tapped his fingers as he tried to remain still. He glanced at the blocked exit, noting Thailna, their half-blood orc, and Irala, their dark-elf healer, still struggling to move the rubble. Irala shifted smaller chunks, while Thailna attempted to dislodge the boulders and bulkier remains. He quickly looked away before they could catch him staring. He turned his attention back to Allynna, who was still preoccupied with the human hiding in the small fissure.

"Why are you so fascinated with that thing?" Ashero's hollers drew another shake from the ruins, and a glare from Gamdon

Without turning to address her colleague, Allynna replied,

"It's been helping us! I know it has!"

Ashero lifted his leg, nearly kicking poor Gamdon, and showed off his freshly wrapped wounds.

"Yeah, a real help it's been!"

"That's your own fault for darting ahead into the room unprepared! One disarmed trap at the entrance doesn't mean there aren't more inside! Besides, I saw it dragging supplies to our camp the other night! And, the markings on the walls that led us to the treasure room? I've never seen anything like them! The details are too small and intricate to have been drawn by anyone of the greater races. Plus, all the disarmed traps? What else could disarm those tiny, delicate, near-invisible plates, but something equally as tiny and delicate!"

Allynna's eyes lit up as she spoke of the fascinating deeds the human had done for her party. Perhaps she might've thought herself crazy, had she not seen it with her own eyes. Being a tiefling had a few benefits, dark vision being one of them. Her mother had taught her that if all else fails, trust her eyes. She had never really bothered with humans before, nor did she understand the other races' judgements of them, but this one had caught her attention. She had so many questions bouncing around in her mind. Where did it come from? How did it know about all the traps and treasures? And most importantly, why would it risk getting caught to help them?

She flicked her tail once more as she pondered what to do. It was clear the human was not going to come out willingly. However, if she forced it out, she would risk either frightening it, or bringing it unintentional harm.

Her thoughts came to an abrupt halt as the ground violently shook. Large chunks of rubble fell from the crumbling ceiling, narrowly missing Allynna. The shock from the near-miss caused her to jump to her feet.  She turned to see her companions frantically dodging falling rubble as they packed their supplies and treasures.

"Good news is the exit is open! Bad news is it was the only thing holding this place together!" Thailna shouted as she ran down to help pack the heavier possessions.

"Well then, what the fuck are we waiting for! Let's get out of here!" Ashero replied with equal volume. He wasted no time packing what he could as he stumbled for the exit. The pain in his leg caused him to fall over flat on his face, dropping what little he had been carrying.

Gamdon retrieved the fallen items as Irala helped the admittedly embarrassed Ashero up. He placed his weight on her and used her as a crutch as they limped for the exit.

"Wait!" Allynna exclaimed as she once again bent down on her knees and held her palm to the crevice. "What about the human!?"

"What about it?!" Ashero's pained expression turned to annoyance. He was willing to deal with Allynna's nonsense under normal circumstances, but at this moment, their lives were in danger, and the pain in his leg had drained all his patience.

"It'll die in here!" Allynna cried with genuine worry in her voice. She couldn't let the poor thing die for their carelessness, not after it risked itself to help them.

"We'll die in here if we don't leave now!"

"Then I'll stay behind! I'll make sure everyone gets out and that we didn't leave anything!"

"What!? Are you insa-"

Irala forcefully pulled Ashero to the side, just managing to avoiding falling debris. The two fell, with Ashero landing on top of Irala.

"I-I-I apologize Master Oriven!" Irala stammered as she pushed Ashero off of her body and turned away, blushing. Ashero was about to scold her, but a shout from Gamdon reminded him of their current situation.

"By the Goddess, 'eres no time for 'is! Get up 'n' get movin'!" He helped both of them up, grabbed what he could, and rushed them through the exit.

With the rest of her friends safely escorted out, Thailna ran to Allynna's side. The younger woman was still attempting to coax the small creature out of its hole. Though clearly desperate, she still spoke in a hushed voice, ignoring the deafening noise of the collapsing cavern. Thailna placed her calloused hands on Allynna's shoulders. She knelt down next to her and calmly spoke to her friend.

"We need to go. Now."

She stared deep into Allynna's golden eyes, hoping she might give in. When she refused to move, Thailna sighed, rose to her feet, grabbed the last of their belongings, and moved for the exit.

"I know your mind is set. I'll be waiting outside. Don't take too long, I really don't want to have to drag you out kicking and screaming."

Thailna took her leave without looking back. She had known Allynna long enough to understand that when her mind was made up, nothing short of death would stop her. As she took a step out of the exit and into the light of the outside, she prayed to the goddess that Allynna would come to her senses before she had to drag her out.

Allynna was out of options and time. She flicked her tail and bit her lip as she reached into the crevice. She felt around the inside until she bumped into something soft and warm. She knew what she felt was the human. She grabbed it before it could escape. It struggled in her grasp, and she tightened her grip around it in response. She could feel the little creature still kicking and squirming in her hand.

"I'm sorry little one, please don't hate me!"

She took a deep breath and pulled it out of its hiding place. With her free hand, she opened the pouch hanging from her thigh, then carefully tucked the human away inside. She could feel the human's squirming die down as she closed the pouch. There would be time for apologies later. Right now, she needed to run. Without taking a moment to breathe, she raced for the exit as fast as her legs could carry her, never slowing down, not even when she had to dodge falling rocks as the ceiling caved in. She could see the light from the outside just ahead, but the collapsing tunnel was gaining on her. She picked up speed and dove through the exit as the last of the falling ruins sealed the opening behind her.

She landed belly down in the dirt, sliding a few feet from where she landed. Allynna let out an audible sigh of relief and turned over on her back. She made it.

Her relief quickly became panic as she had a sudden realization. The human! Had she accidentally crushed it when she dove through the exit?! Quickly, she ran her fingers over the small bulge in her pouch. When it moved in response to her touch, she once again let the wave of relief come over her.

"Nice landing, Allie." Thailna stood tall above her friend. She laughed as she watched Allynna's expression turn from surprise, to confusion, then to embarrassment. Grabbing her with one arm, she lifted her off the ground, and helped to brush the dirt off of her ragged garments. She gave her friend a hard pat on her back, before letting out a hearty laugh.

"Come on, we found a place to set up a new base camp before we head back to the city in the morning. Irala promised to cook up some of our leftover rations. Let's go catch up with the others before Gamdon eats it all again!"

Thailna continued to talk to Allynna as they walked deeper into the surrounding forest, but Allynna was only half listening. Her mind was preoccupied with other thoughts. More specifically, she was pondering just how she was going to explain her tiny passenger to her group. She placed her hand over the pouch and felt the human move again. It would have to wait, she decided. First, she needed a warm meal.

[iguana-eyanna]

From The Bird's Eye View Chapter 3

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x Reader

Summary: Although you achieved your dream of being a designer, you never considered meeting a man who's also a father.

Tim (13): First Meeting

“Do you mind if we record this session?”

“No.”

“Alright. Start me off on how your week started.” 

There was a pause and a deep breath was drawn by you.

“It was Sunday, I woke up alone… again. I made breakfast with Alfred. We made this French recipe that he’s been dying to make. It was really good. I made a few business calls in the afternoon. I still haven’t stepped in at work.” You said, fiddling with a loose strand on your sweater.

“How long have you not been at work?” 

“Two months and four days. I um, I think I want to go back. I think it will help me to just get out of the house.”

“That’s good. Has Bruce been at work?”

You pause again.

“Bruce went to work three days after the funeral.”

Dinah doesn’t reply yet. Although she was the Justice League’s grief counselor, she was your friend first. 

“Want to stop the session?”

You could only nod, already beginning to cry. 

Dinah stopped the recording and got out of her seat to sit next to you where you already broke down. 

It’s almost been three months since Jason died. You remembered the call you got when Bruce and Jason traveled out of state to find his birth mother. 

Bruce couldn’t even finish his sentence. 

“I left to give them a moment. I didn’t realize it was a trap. I didn’t make it in time and Jason… he’s- he’s…” You dropped the phone on the ground, collapsing as your sight began to blur. You released a blood-curdling scream when Alfred came in, not knowing the news that would destroy him too. 

The funeral was a closed casket. The only person that saw Jason was Bruce, and he hasn’t shared anything about that day. The ceremony was small, as it was just you, Bruce, Alfred, and Dick. You extended the invitation to Jason’s best friend Roy, but he couldn’t come. He was taking his death hard and had to take a break from being Oliver’s partner during patrols.

Since then, you and Bruce haven’t shared a word with each other. It felt like you were just two strangers living under the same roof. The manor felt bigger than usual, especially after Dick had to leave for San Francisco. Being at home realized how much time he didn’t spend with his brother. 

You wished you had the privilege to just leave this house because it hasn’t felt like a home in a while. 

Now, you’ve been trying to just move on from this grief. But nothing would have replaced this gaping hole in your heart. 

“Any word on Roy?” You ask, looking at Dinah. 

She shook her head. 

“Oliver and Roy were fighting when he caught him using again. We’ve been trying to find him but he doesn’t want to be found.”

You remember when you met Roy for the first time. 

Oliver ran into him in the Glades and saw the mischievous kid needed some guidance. On the days you visited the kids in San Francisco, Roy was one of the first kids that opened up to you. Your past was similar to Roy’s where one parent left and the other was an addict. Dinah and Oliver have been tirelessly searching for Roy for weeks now, and you were hoping that they’d find him soon.

You didn’t want them to face the same fate you did.

You made your way back home, pulling in the garage. You went upstairs to the living room, taking a deep breath as you sat on the couch.

“How was the session?” A voice said out loud.

You turned around and saw Alfred.

“It was the usual. Talked at least five minutes before sobbing.” 

Alfred chuckles.

“I’ve been scrubbing this house from ceiling to basement, twice.”

You laugh as Alfred joined you on the couch. You two really relied on each other these past few days. The only person that was hard to reach out was Bruce. 

Alfred has been going downstairs at the cave a lot, trying to bandage the many cuts and bruises Bruce received on patrols. Alfred was concerned, Bruce was never harmed this badly. It was almost like he wanted to get hurt. On the rare occasions you see Bruce, he looks more tired and pale. You try to go up to him, but couldn’t muster a single word.

You weren’t ready as much as he was.

“Say, why don’t we head out for an early dinner? I read in an article of a new club, heard the appetizers are to die for.”

You chuckled at the idea. 

“I’d love to.” 

Alfred grabbed your hand and you two headed out for dinner.

Once you got there, you and Alfred were laughing while you were lightly drinking. 

“Did you know I used to own a club?” Alfred asks, eating one of the side dishes.

“No! Since when?” You ask, drinking your martini.

“After I fought in the war, I tried to become a body guard. Lucky enough, I met Thomas Wayne when he was visiting England. Oh, the trouble we used to get into! Later on the road, I lost my way. Lost good people… lost myself. Thought opening my own establishment and throwing myself in money and women would do the trick. But it just made me feel lonely.”

You stopped drinking as you look at Alfred. 

You always saw him as this cheery man who helped the Wayne men to become good people. But now, you saw a man who couldn’t afford to lose another person.

“H-How did you stop feeling like that?” You asked. 

He gives you a sad smile.

“I never stopped.”

Afterwards, Alfred drove you two back home. You slightly tripped over yourself as you made your way inside the manor. He was making you water in the kitchen until he got a notification on his phone

Something happened down in the cave.

“Oh dear.” He whispers to himself.

“Alfred?” You slightly slurred as you look up to him by the kitchen aisle.

“Master Bruce needs my attention on something. I will be back shortly.” He said before heading to the secret passage.

You sat there for a bit, drinking your water sparingly. After a few minutes, you decided to head down to check how Alfred was. Bruce would always pick on Alfred’s brain when a case was bothering him so you didn’t think something major would happen.

But life likes to prove you wrong. 

“Is everything alright?” You ask as your voice carried to the last of the steps.

You looked up and see you caught Alfred and Bruce (unmasked) in shock as they saw you. 

But that didn’t match your reaction when another person was there in between them.

You blink continuously, as your eyes thought it was Jason. But your senses returned as the boy turned around and saw you with wide eyes.

It wasn’t your son.

“Who is this?” You ask, stepping carefully to all of them. 

The young preteen goes up to you, eager and slightly chipper.

“Hi, I’m Tim Drake. It’s nice to meet you.” He said, offering his hand.

You slowly take his hand and shake it, still not knowing what’s going on. 

Bruce makes your way to you, telling the boy to stay with Alfred.

“You shouldn’t be down here.” Bruce said as you were finally alone.

“I was looking Alfred, I didn’t realize there’d be a kid! Who is that, Bruce?” You ask, your voice raised.

“Apparently, he’s a fan of Batman. He followed me down the cave when I wasn’t aware, said he needed my help searching for his dad.”

“How did he even find you undetected?” You ask, not believing this.

“Again, a fan of my work. Said he’s been studying my patterns and that it was easy to follow me back to my base, especially since I’ve gotten sloppy in the past few weeks.” 

You pause for a moment, minimizing your anger towards Bruce.

“Why is he going to you and not the police?”

“The police has been tracking down his dad, but only to turn him in. Apparently his father was reported to answer for a high ranking criminal. With my help, Tim wants to clear his father’s name.”

You look over to the boy asking a million questions to Alfred as he tried to answer the boy’s curiosity. 

“Does he have a place to stay?” You ask, crossing your arms.

“His mom passed away about a year ago and his dad is his only living relative.” 

You think momentarily and look back at Bruce.

“Let him stay till you find his dad.”

Bruce nods as he makes his way to Tim and discuss what’s going to happen. 

Alfred brought the young boy upstairs while you stayed down as Bruce began to begin a new case.

“You didn’t come to the session.” You simply said, as you stare at the back of his head as he was staring at the monitor. 

“I couldn’t make it, I was making sure that the Wayne internship program was going to run.” He said in his usual monotone voice. 

“I called them. Luscious Fox answered saying they haven’t seen you the past several days. Hell Bruce, I haven’t seen you in weeks! What is it going to take for you to talk to me?” You yelled, your voice echoing on the walls. 

Bruce passed at what he was doing and turned to you with those eyes that were filled with love. Now, it looked like they were full of pain and regrets.

“I need to help him find his dad. After this is done, we can talk.” 

Your eyes brimmed with tears. Bruce loved to hit the pause button when things need to be addressed. 

“Fine, but don’t expect to find me in your bed.” You whispered before you went upstairs. 

Bruce rubbed his stubbled jaw and closed his eyes momentarily, trying to find the peace he has been robbed of for some time.

He went back to his computer, typing in Tim’s father’s name in police records and tapped in bank account numbers under his name. With just a few downloads, Bruce accessed who has been transferring money. There was a transfer made not only a week ago. Bruce moved his tracer to click the route number it was made from. He stopped what he was doing as he recognized the number. He opened up a new window to access the files he found a few years ago and saw that the route number was the same. 

The route number belonged to Harvey Dent, and Tim’s father was working for him.

It’s been a week since Tim has stayed in the manor. Mostly, he’s been by Bruce’s side, giving him any type of information on his dad. Bruce can tell he’s a bright kid and even offered him an internship at work. He was thrilled by the offer and was happy he got to work along side Bruce.

Alfred was starting to feel like his usual self again. He even started to lecture Tim about drinking water after he learned how to use the espresso machine.

The only person that Tim hasn’t talked to was you.

Tim knew he entered your life at a time of mourning, so he wanted to be respectful of your space. 

One day, he was walking around the manor to discover what rooms had in store. He came across a locked room that hasn’t been used. Eager to know what’s inside, he used a few paper clips he found and started picking on the lock.

“Yes!” He said to himself as he heard the door unlock. He turned the knob and stepped inside. Once he turned on the light switch, his attitude changed.

“Oh no.”

He realized he was in Jason’s room.

Tim saw the discarded comics on the foot of the bed, stacking up to a feet tall. There were posters of bands he never heard that covered every inch of the walls. A basket of clothes were piled near the closed closet, never to be worn again.

Tim wanted to leave, but a glint of light annoyed his sight. He walked closer and saw a picture frame that has a picture of Bruce, you, Dick, Alfred, and Jason. It was a family portrait, looking as if it was taken 2 years ago. You all looked so young, so happy, so-

“What are you doing in here?”

Tim was so scared that he jolted his head to the direction of your voice and accidentally dropped the picture, shattering the glass.

There you stood, shellshocked.

“I am so sorry - I didn’t meant to do that! I-I just wanted to see the rooms and I didn’t…”

Tim stuttered, feeling his anxiety building.

You saw the signs and went up to him.

“Tim, honey, I need you to breathe, alright? Follow my lead.” 

You coached him to follow you breathe and copied every move. Once he calmed down, you both took a final deep breath.

“Okay, why don’t we fix this mess and talk elsewhere, okay?”

Tim could only nod as you both knelt down to pickup the broken glass. Once done, you took one final glance at the room and the picture that stood at its original spot on the desk. You close that door a final time, but feeling a strange sense of acceptance,

You turn to face Tim who looked ashamed for what he did. You went to him, giving a warm smile.

“C’mon, Alfred made cookies.”

Soon, you and Tim were watching your favorite film, The Legend of Zorro. Tim was amused by the fighting choreography as well as the writing.

“Wow! I can’t believe I’m just seeing this now!” Tim said, munching on Alfred’s infamous toffee chocolate chip cookies.

“It’s one of my favorite films. We would watch it all the time after the boys would come back from a patrol. Bruce doesn’t like to watch it as it brought some bad memories, but Jason pleaded for him to join movie night. Bruce sat through the whole thing, just to see me and Jason happy.”

Your gaze became distant, envisioning that simple night where you took thees moments for granted. 

“How - how was Jason like?” Tim asks.

You took a deep breath and looked over at him.

“He was a good kid. Naughty, but still a good kid. He was eager to bake with Alfred, just so he could lick off the spoon when they were done. Jason loved to make people laugh. But as he got older, he started build his anger. He got mad at Bruce a lot, said he was still being treated like a child. Then I started to lecture him. The moment he changed his attitude was when he realized his birth mother was still alive. I never seen him so driven, so eager. And when he left to find her-”

You took a pause.

Tim saw your state and decided to console you.

“It would have been nice… meeting him.” Tim thought out loud.

You nod in agreement, smiling.

“He would have liked you, I bet you two would have fought over his comics or mangas.”

“I saw! I never passed that issue he had!” Tim said excitingly.

“If you like, you can have a look at what books are in the room.”

“Really?” He asks unsure.

“Absolutely. Now, let’s take a look at what other movies we can watch. There’s Willow, The Princess Bride-”

“What’s that?” Tim asks.

You look at him with disbelief as you shook your head.

“Oh, we are watching that.”

Later on, Bruce came to the manor. He realized that it was too quiet so he wandered around and found the movie room where it was filled with laughter. He moved the curtain of the entrance and saw you and Tim copying the fight choreography of The Princess Bride.

“My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father, prepare to die.” You quoted, using a broom as a sword.

Tim tried striking you with a curtain pole (where he got it? Bruce doesn’t even want to know) and switched roles.

“No! My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father, prepare to die!”

Bruce began to smile as he heard your laughter. He hasn’t seen you this happy for a long time.

“They’ve been there all evening. You should join them.”

Bruce turns to see Alfred who also missed your youthful spirit. 

“Let them have all the fun.” Bruce simply said as walked to the kitchen to pour himself a glass of whiskey.

“How has your investigation been for the young boy’s father?”

“He’s been hard to find, but I was able to interrogate on of Two Face’s henchman and they admitted they’re planning to pick up a shipment of firearms in 2 weeks. Most likely he will be there.”

Alfred nodded as he was cleaning the counter. But, thought came over his head, making him stop what he was doing.

“Sir, there’s something that has been bothering me for awhile now.”

Bruce looks up from his drink, concerned.

“When you accessed records for Harvey Dent, I saw that they were saved after his accident. I remembered because you took it to heart that day when you weren’t able to protect him. And not even a week later, you asked me to reserve a fitting for Master Grayson for his suit.”

“Alfred…”

“Is Harvey Dent her father?” Alfred asks with his voice demanding a straight answer.

There was a pause as Bruce looked down.

“Yes, he’s her biological father.”

Alfred takes off his glasses in disbelief.

“You’ve been investigating her this entire time?” Alfred asks with disbelief.

Bruce felt uncomfortable of the confrontation, ashamed.

“At the first time, yes. I thought she would have an idea of where Dent disappeared after the accident. But she could never talk about or anything about how she grew up. I assumed she just never met him and I stopped the case there.”

Alfred felt his blood boil.

“But you lied to her, Master Bruce. She brought up not only one, but two of your sons! She doesn’t question your decisions for the city or for this family because se trusts you. And now she deeply cares for that boy in the other room that you have brought into this house! You have not carried your responsibilities as a CEO, a caretaker, you haven’t even proposed to her after all of these years and she’s still here, patiently waiting. She loves you, Bruce. Do you love her?”

There was a pause that filled in the air. Bruce was going to respond until you came in with an empty plate.

You looked at the men in the kitchen, unaware of the conflict that arose.

“Sorry, didn’t meant to interrupt. The movie ended and I was going to clean up.”

“I’ll take care of it, you all should head up for the night.” Alfred said as he carefully grabbed the plate for him to wash.

“Night Alfred, thanks for everything.” You said, hugging him quickly before you headed out.

Bruce looks back to Alfred who hasn’t made eye contact with him. Bruce decided to leave too.

You two walked up the staircase in silence. You look at Bruce who appeared deep in thought.

“How was work?” You asked.

“It was eventful. We’re thinking of branching out in Japan, but it’s going to take a few years to plan out the logistics.” 

“Ah, nice! I never been to Japan.” You replied.

When you reached the tip of the stairs, Bruce stopped.

“I um, heard your back at work too.” He said.

“Yeah. I was, uh, talking with Dinah about it during our sessions. Thought it was time.”

Bruce nods. “That’s great. I’m happy for you.”

“Thanks. I gotta get to bed, there’s a meeting early in the morning.” You said, about to leave.

“Wait.” Bruce caught up with you and was looking at you softly.

He pauses at that moment. Here you both stood, uninterrupted.

He could tell you the truth about your father.

He could tell you that he's been hurting as much as you.

But all he could see was you looking at him with a love like gaze.

“I know I haven’t been around lately, especially for you. I want to make this right, so I was wondering if I could join the next session with you.”

You look at Bruce. You know deep in your heart that he’s trying and looking within his eyes, he meant every word he said.

“It’s going to be 2 weeks from now during the day. I don’t know if you’re going to make-”

“Nothing is going to stop me from being there.” He promised.

“Okay, I’ll let Dinah know you’re coming. Good night, Bruce.” You said, kissing his cheek as you walked away from him.

He stood there as you walked into the guest room, but you leave the guest door open. 

Bruce slowly follows you in the dimmed room, closing the door and locked it. 

+

After that night, you and Bruce were living in this bubble. It was like you two haven’t been fighting or avoiding each other these past weeks. Maybe you’re afraid that everything would go into disarray if someone could pop this short-term happiness.

But for now, you stayed in ignorant bliss.

Tim came down to the bat cave with Bruce to lightly spar, as Bruce viewed it’ll be a good skill to learn. The Wayne man started to form some pride, seeing how Tim significantly impacted him. 

Suddenly, they both heard a ping come from the monitor. 

“What’s going on?” Tim asked as Bruce rushed over.

“I made a motion sensor at the location where Two-Face will be making the deal. Seems that there’s a lot of commotion there.” Bruce said, looking at the heat sensor. 

“My dad could be there?” Tim asks, running towards the screen. 

“Possibly, I need to leave now before this deal is made.” Bruce said, already heading to wear his gear.

“Wait! Let me join you.” Tim said. 

Bruce pauses before looking back at Tim.

“You’re safe here.” Bruce said, spreading suiting up.

“I know how to defend myself, and you need someone to watch your six. And besides, how is my dad supposed to surrender if I’m not there? Please, Bruce, I have to do this. He’s the only family I have.”

Bruce remembers the similar words spoken to him when Jason was trying to find his mom.

“I gotta find her, Bruce. If I don’t, I’d never forgive myself…”

Bruce takes a deep breath and goes up to Tim.

“I think there’s a suit in your size, you can look in the back.” 

Tim smiled brightly and hurried back to find what he was looking for.

Bruce was about to mask until he heard you and Alfred heading down to the cave. 

“Master Bruce, we’re ready for dinner for you and-”

Alfred stops mid-sentence as you both see Tim dressed in a Robin suit.

Jason’s Robin suit.

“Why is he wearing that?” You said, walking towards Bruce.

“There’s an alert at the place of the deal. I need Tim there-”

“No. You don’t.” You gritted, feeling your skin burn.

Tim stood there, feeling uncomfortable as you and Bruce were fighting about where he would join Bruce or stay. But time was not at his side. He had to save his dad, if not him... who else?

Tim made his decision, grabbing the keys to Dick’s old motorcycle and programming it to take him to the destination.

“Master Drake!” Alfred said as he saw Tim riding away.

“Tim! TIM!” You screamed, trying to run after him but it was no use. He left outside of the bat cave and you accidentally fell down. Alfred goes up to you, consoling you as you broke down in a sob.

You made eye contact with Bruce as if he tore your heart out of your chest.

“Bring him - back.” You choked out in between your sobs.

Bruce brought you up to your feet and gave you a final look before running towards his car to drive after Tim. 

He races for Tim, hoping he isn’t too late.

He can’t be.

[echantedtoon]

Demon Bride Ch31 Interluding P4

(WARNINGS!!: Mentioning of killing. These are some events and important bits that happened between the chapters that mostly focused on reader and other demons.)

The air smelt of smoke. The land had been burnt of fire. Many of his servants were hurt and Eri was running around like a panicked chicken looking everyone over. There hadn't been any deaths thank goodness. But-

"THIS IS A DISASTER!!"

Most everyone winced or looked at one of the Upper Moons ranting looking a mixture of panicked, sad, raged, and if they were to be honest almost about to cry as his hands dug deep into his long black locks.

"MY HOME IS DESTROYED!! THE GARDEN IS COMPLETELY BURNT!! WE WON'T BE ABLE TO GROW ANY FOOD!! THERE'S A GAPING HOLE IN HALF MY HALLS AND ROOF!! I HAD SHELVES OF IMPORTANT DOCUMENTS IN SOME OF THOSE ROOMS!! I WON'T BE ABLE TO REPLACE ANY OF THEM!! THE MASTER IS GOING TO GIVE ME A SLOW AND PAINFUL DEATH FOR THIS!! AND WORST OF ALL MY SERVANTS WERE NEARLY KILLED AND I'M MISSING A WOMAN AND CHILD!!"  KyoGAI hissed and Screamed out an unintelligible screech before rounding on his heel to face the just as equally angry Upper Moon next to him.  "BUT WORST OF ALL YOU COME ALL THE WAY HERE TO TELL ME THAT THEY WERE KIDNAPPED AND NOW KAIGAKU IS TAKING THEM OFF TO WHO KNOWS WHERE?!"

AKAZA sighed and help up a barely contained hand. "I understand you're deeply upset but you have to remain calm-"

"UPSET!? UPSET IS A FUCKING UNDERSTATEMENT!! IM. FUCKING. P I S S E D  O F F!!! DO YOU NOT SEE WHAT THOSE WATER BEETLES HAVE DONE TO MY WHOLE LIVELIHOOD?! HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO PROVIDE FOR MY PEOOLE?! WHERE AM I GOING TO GET THE MATERIALS TO FIX THIS?!"

Akaza sighed and only shook his head. "Look. All I know is that Kokushibo got into my head just now. He said you already told him someone damaged your home and then I just explained to both of you want really happened.  Hantengu's sons have gotten really out of hand. According to him they were after that child for whatever reason but that's not the important thing now. What's important is that they're all safe and no one's gotten hurt yet."

"Then what about the one's who caused this mess?!"

Veins appeared all along Akaza's arms as deadly fists tightened up. "That's why I said yet. Kokushibo is on his way as we speak, at his insane speed he should be here within a day and a half to assess the damage.  I'm going to be tracking down the ones who did this and take them to Hairou until Kokushibo can decide what's to be done about them.'' Golden blue eyes glanced up and hissed when he saw a young lady crying hard as Eri wrapped bandages around her leg. "Dammit! All these innocent women so affected by their reckless actions. It pisses me off to no end!"

"Then you should go find them before they come back or before they decide to go after Y/n again!"

And that thought only pissed him off more. He looked back to Kyogai. "Will you be able to take care of everything until Kokushibo gets here?"

"If he'll be here as soon as you say then I can manage a day or two until he arrives. You need to stop them before they end up killing somebody! It's only a matter of time."

Kyogai was right. It was only a matter of time. And he had to find them. Quickly. And find them he did. Pretty easily might he add. He had helped Kyogai for a little bit first moving some debry around and helping with some of the victims. After everyone was accounted for and left. The first place he went to was the place that was full of collapsed trees, and scotch marks from hundreds of lightning bolts. Anyone could clearly tell a fight between powerful demons went on here with branches and fallen trees littering the ground everywhere. But there wasn't any signs of any demons still hanging around the area. So he opted to pack up and move onward to a different direction. The scent they left behind was strongest towards the north of here so that's where he opted to go. North. Fast strides. And no more than five miles away was where the five people responsible for such heinous crimes. All sitting down a small bonfire with a wild pig roasting over the flames.

"We've been searching these woods for ages!! And still no sign of any of them!! Dammit, Karaku!! You are such a fucking idiot!!!"

"Hey. Don't blame me for it!" The green eyed one pointed at the youngest. "Zohakuten should've used his wooden dolls and trapped them when he had the chance!!''

"HE COULD'VE IF YOU DIDN'T BLOW THEM AWAY!! AND THAT'S ANOTHER THING!! WHERE THE HELL WERE YOU AND UROGI WHEN WE NEEDED YOU!?"

"I WAS TAKING CARE OF FATHER AND LEFT LATER THAN YOU FOUR AND YOU KNOW THAT!! IT TOOK ME A FEW HOURS TO CATCH UP WITH YOU!! WHERE WERE YOU AND KARAKU WHEN I DID SHOW UP?!," the youngest brother demanded as equally raged as his oldest brother, "AND WHY WERE THESE THREE ACTING LIKE LOVE STRUCK PUPS?!"

"HEY! I happened to have almost drowned! I nearly died!," The one with the wings shouted back perched on a low hanging branch, "Do you know how hard it is to move with wet wings weighing your spine down?!"

"A-And I was poisoned and helpless at the time. B-B-But Sekido has a point Karaku. You shouldn't have done that," the blue one stuttered out.

"Alright! I fucked up but don't gang up on me when Sekido was the one who kept getting beheaded and left us to do most of the work! And I was blown away by that stupid samurai! How was it my fault I acted on fighting instincts?!"

"It's quite easy to explain really. ALL OF YOU ARE USELESS BUMBLING IDIOTS!! I CAN'T COUNT ON YOU FOR ANYTHING!!" AKAZA STARTED stepping forward. "KARAKU IS DISTRACTED BY ANY PRETTY WOMAN!! BOTH UROGI AND KARAKU NEVER TAKE THINGS SERIOUSLY!! AIZETSU NEVER GROWS A DAM BACK BONE WHEN HE NEEDS TOO!" Akaza slowly stepped out from behind some trees. "AND ZAHAKUTEN IS MORE STUBBORN AND THINKS HE KNOWS EVERYTHING!! AND THE MASTER IS GOING TO BE FURIOUS WITH US!! HIS COULD LITERALLY NOT BE ANY WORSE!!" 

Karaku froze in his spot first seeing the taller Upper Moon approach Sekido from behind. Aizetsu wheezed a breath out stuttering and holding up a hand to shakily pointed behind him. Zohakuten leaned over to look past Sekido and much like Karaku immediately froze. Urogi choked on the roasted pig leg he was eating which landed on the ground with a thud and he began coughing a lot. 

"What's wrong with you morons now?! Does the truth hurt? GOOD!! MAYBE YOU'LL BE ABLE TO- HRK!!"  Something strong wrapped around his neck and lifted him up. He choked and dropped his staff to grab at the hand wrapped around his neck before he was turned and froze as he stared into the rage filled eyes of Upper Moon Three.

"I should've expected you to be trouble. As soon as you became Upper Moon Four you challenged me without thinking." His grip tightened. "Now all of you are going to put out that fire and come with me. If not-...Well Kokushibo never said to keep you in one piece. He only said to bring you back. Now what will it be."

....The bonfire was quickly put out and five men were marched off towards the direction of the Infinity Castle.

**********************************"****************************************

Hmm.

Well this certainly was quite a headache wasn't it? After all why wouldn't it be? He had a lot of work on his shoulders to complete. He didn't have the time to get all these problems. The beginning of the year was fine enough. It was only when he summoned Kaigaku to train that he was made aware of the news.

The bark of trees felt rough against the palm of grey skin, perfect to blending into shadows and walking along the darkness of the cursed trees that beckoned any unknowing traveler further into their branches. A light step. Another light step. Light enough to not be heard by anyone my dear. A quiet mouse amongst the darkness a contrast to the many others in the surroundings. He moved amongst the shadows which were his best friends. His only allies in this battle of the most deadliest predator to live among them and for once he wasn't at the top of the deadly food chain.

Dark tree past dark tree. Weaving past darkness and limbs and lungs heavy with air whirled around by the wind. Close. The danger was close. Breath. Sweet air was the need. The fuel for the best outcome. For his eventual clash with the death bringer. The trees couldn't hide that from him. Adrenaline pumping. Viens bunching up as a black tsuka of a katanna was grabbed, burnt to the touch as the rumbling of thunder was fueled by the whirling, taunting, wind in his lungs to make way for an electrical storm that bubbled through his blood vessels and gave the needed power to metal to become the lightning strike that shook the scene before him. All time became irrelevant as with each mighty push of his body from the allied shadows gave him the momentum for the target gaining closer and closer to his face. Where was it? WHERE WAS IT WHERE WAS IT?! He felt it was close so whe-

SHING!!

A metal against metal sounds. A shine of silver in the dark. A dash of shadow. And a strike of thunder. The thunder struck the moon hard with a might that should be feared certainly. But the moon always shines brighter. A deadly hand struck out and with one blow to his head. The thunder was defeated.

"You have... improved greatly since our last meeting...But you...still rush things too much.."

There was a mumble from the body on the ground followed by a loud groan. Yep. He'd have a headache for the rest of the day now.

"If...you had waited ...ten more seconds... you would have...dealt a great blow to my...shoulder blade... However you seem to be...in better spirits..than before." There was a sound as a moon's blade was put away. "Get up...We shall try again immediately..."

The black cloaked body cursed at himself but pushed himself to his feet as he was ordered. "Yes. Let's try again."

"... Perhaps you..have something on your mind...that distracts you? You seem...oddly calmer...But I doubt...you have learnt patience yet."

"Heh. You could say that I guess." A rare smile that wasn't as smug was smiled.

"The magatama on your wrist...did you perhaps...lose it again?"

"...No. I chose to present it to someone else."

"Explain."

"I'm engaged."

Silence.

"....I see. ...I was not expecting this...Who?"

"It's complicated. I honestly don't believe it myself a few times. ...But it's not important. I'm ready to continue. Let's try again-"

"No...You shall explain...to me..all details at once..it is...a matter that... impacts your... ability to..concentrate. I must know...in order to ..best make it so...you focus..."

It was quite a surprise for him to learn about the entire situation. A human girl stumbling blindly in here  being chased by other demons during mating season and then being chased into the safety of Kyogai's mansion only to be courted by his apprentice and agreed to be engaged. To be fair not the worst surprise he's ever heard of but it was still a surprise anyone wanted to marry such a angry samurai. ...Hmm. he'd look into it later. Unfortunately any training had to be cut short with news reaching him about a string of murders in the capital. A slew of murders had taken place overnight and seven girls between the ages of sixteen and twenty had been brutally slaughtered in one night. He had to cancel the last week of their planned training to go and see what this was all about. He was afraid it could've been a demon with Bloodlust Syndrome. This wasn't good. However not even a few days later it went from bad to worse thanks to himself being summoned by Nakime and Kyogai and Akaza.

"What seems to...be the problem."

"What's wrong?! I'LL TELL YOU WHAT'S WRONG!!," Kyogai mentally screamed at him. Hmm. Strange. Usually the lowest Kizuki was much more docile to him but it seemed something riled him up beyond rational thinking. "TELL THE MASTER TO CALL OFF HANTENGU'S SONS!! THEY DESTROYED MY HOME AND KIDNAPPED TWO PEOPLE UNDER MY CARE!! AKAZA JUST ARRIVED AND HAD TO EXPLAIN WHO THEY WERE!!!"

Akaza stewed silently in agreement to their right as Nakime silently observed keeping them all together.

"Calm yourselves... Explain...in detail...what has happened."

He was mentally rubbing his temples by the time Akaza and Kyogai had finished explaining the entire situation to him. The things he had to fix on a daily basis was maddening as it was infuriating. 

"Where is Kaigaku? Tell him...to assist...until I arrive."

"I can't. I ordered him to get the woman and child somewhere safe."

He mentally turned to face Akaza. "You went... deliberately..over my head...and ordered him..away?"

"I had to ensure the victims they were after were safe!" Akaza spoke with barely held back rage. "What do YOU think I should've done?!"

"....We will discuss.... you're disrespect later...for now you will...track down the ones responsible..and bring them to...Hairou for holding...until I can arrive. I must see...the damage done....When you have delivered them...you will bring the girl...and child to me. They seem...the focus..of much trouble...I have to figure out. Until then...you are all... dismissed." A strum from Nakime cut off both of the Kizuki talking to him originally but he still had one other thing to do. "Nakime...Bring me... Kaigaku immediately."

STRUM!!

The sounds of the biwa guitar sounds out and he waited patiently mentally rubbing his temples. Perfect. Now he would have to put his investigation on hold while he saw over this mess. He only had to wait ten minutes but eventually someone joined the two of them. An irritated annoyed presence that was familiar to him but the new male paused when he noticed Kokushibo there.

"Sensai?," Kaigaku asked clearly confused to what was going on.

"I'll get to..the point. I am aware of your problem....You left your..post and...took the human girl and ...child somewhere." Kaigaku remained silent. "Akaza will be there...in five days time..to retrieve them from your...custody..you are to leave..them and head back...to your post.. immediately."

"WHAT?! BUT I CAN'T!! SHE NEEDS ME!!" Kaigaku pushed back with force that his stubbornness came with. "She can't be left alone!! What kind of thing is that to ask me?!"

"Are. You. Questioning. Me." Kaigaku went cold and silent. "You. Will. Do. As. I. Say. Immediately. Or there will be.... consequences.  Nakime."

STRUM!!

Their connection was severed and he was left in his own body. Again sighing and getting ready to experience a massive headache. Things were not going as he liked.

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

-THIS NEXT PART TAKES PLACE A FEW DAYS AFTER CH 29-

Something's bubbling in one corner. Something stinks of chemicals on the desk. The world in here was dark save for random candle lights. What lied inside was not for the faint of heart and where brave men wouldn't even dare venture. So maybe that's why he did. He was considered insane after all. Insane enough to poke the sleeping dragon. He knew the monster inside knew of his presence long before he just blatantly opened the door with a loud creak.

"Did you bring me what I wanted?"

The figure in the dark corner didn't even look up from his work. A small syringe in his hand dripping a few drops of a clear orange liquid into a slightly larger vile of crystal clear different liquid. The few orange drops were swirled inside like small mists. Footsteps approached him and he still didn't bother to look up when a small notepad was placed on the table next to him. 

"And that is?"

"New information I got on her from Kaigaku. You should read it over and have a look. It's actually quite interesting.~"

Red eyes finally bothered to look up and put down his work. The viles put down. And the notepad slid over and opened. There was silence as teal eyes watched as pages were slowly read. The only sounds were the crinkling of paper as pages were only turned ...and slowly the notepad was closed.

"....Bring me Kokushibo. I want all Kizuki to the Infinity Castle immediately. And I want that human with them."

[m4skedmayhem]

A story!

This is my baaand :] They’re called Vulture Counterculture, and they’re actually pretty popular! This is where Sparro ends up in @hemoswap-au’s world. I’ll probably make another post in the future introducing the band members. Now onto the story.

~~~

Rubeii sat up, clambering out of his recoupracoon. His head hurt. Why did his head hurt so much? His brain slowly started to function, and he remembered how much he drank the last night. Damn. II must be hungover. IIt’s been a whiile siince iit’s been thiis bad though.

He shook his head, trying to orient himself in the light of the sunset. He flicked on his hive’s lights, and fixed his hair in the mirror. Walking out of his bedroom, he pulled on his jacket, buckling the many straps and pulling the mask up over his face.

Walking into the main room, he stretched, taking in the mess that he would have to clean. He surveyed the chaos, absentmindedly flipping over a couch that was on its back. He made his way into the attached kitchen, needing some water or a hot coffee.

He had just turned on the coffee machine when he heard a slight whimper from the corner. He whipped around, reaching for a knife that was sitting on the counter. But instead of an intruder, he saw the boots of a purpleblood that he considered a friend peeking around the corner.

He sighed, walking over to them after he put the knife down. “Come on, Sparro. Let’s get you up and at iit. Let’s go, iit’s a new day, tiime to go back ho-”

He broke off, staring in horror at the scene in front of him. It was definitely Sparro, but there was something wrong. They were holding a dish towel up to their face, the rag stained dark with their blood. “Shiit. Sparro, wha-what happened? Are you okay?”

“Yov happened.”

“II- what?”

they sigh, removing the towel to show a hole where their right eye once sat. “Yov happened. Yov got drvnk or something and started vvaxing poetic abovt the caste system.”

He just stares in horror. This was someone he thought of as a friend, the person who was so excited about possibly starting a band that they had taught him guitar, despite not fully knowing it themself. And here they sat, mutilated by his own hands. “II’m sorry…”

“It’s fine. Yov’re a highblood, this happens all the time to peasants like me.”

“IIt shouldn’t. Look-II know thiis won’t make iit up to you, but II’ve been thiinkiing about that band iidea you had. II thiink iit’d be a good iidea. The only problem iis that we don’t have anyone but a bassiist, drummer, and vocaliist. IIf you could find one or two other members, II could pull a few striings and get you iinto the spotliight. II understand iif you don’t want to talk. Just stay here untiil II can bandage your eye. II don’t want Cronos to see you weak. He’d just use iit to hurt you.”

he turns and walks to the kitchen and makes Sparro a sandwich. He was hungry, but they needed it more than him. Maybe this band idea really would work. God knows Sparro had the drive to keep it afloat.

[lostonehero]

Even more snapshots

Even more plot

Hell was familair and foreign all at once. His eyes kept leaking, and Kayne was growing more and more frustrated. He knows his mind is a mess he doesn't need these pitying glances and random devils waving at him. The smell of ash made his chest ache, and he didn't want to be alone.

"Nerophropte!" A random demon approached him. "Nerophropte an angel has fallen, you told me many many years ago you wished to talk to a freshly fallen." The demon was in uniform, and vaguely Kayne knew them to be a guard at the gates to the dead.

Kayne crossed his arms. He was curious, and it would distract him from aimlessly wondering. "Where?"

"The infirmary wing of the palace." The demon points to the imposing palace.

Kayne nods and vanishes without another word. The infirmary held an eerie feeling, and he couldn't place why, and he hated that he couldn't fully remember anything important. He decided to stop floating and let himself walk. He didn't know why that felt natural here.

"You're supposed to follow my orders." A voice growled out. "No visitors. I demanded Lucifer come see me in person." The voice was hoarse and rough like they breathed in ashe and smoke.

Kayne walked inside to find someone bandaged and badly burned. Flecks of golden blood were slowly being tainted. Blue eyes that slowly were turning red stared at him. "You're the fallen?" He tilts his head the bandages make it almost impossible to parse who this former angel was. The blonde hair that was turning red, however, gave him away. "Micheal?"

"I don't want you, beast." Micheal coughed up more golden blood mixed with soot in his lungs.

Kayne frowns and pulls up a chair. "I'm a bit lost." He didn't like how honest and frankly frightened he sounded.

Micheal looked away. "Did you expect everything to click when you came down?" He huffs. "Of course you did. You're an old one regaining your tampered memories, which isn't something that would come naturally. If what Lilith said is true." He groans as there is a loud crack, and one of his wings breaks and falls to the floor.

Kayne rolled up his sleeves. "I can..."

"Do it." Micheal grits his teeth as Kayne pulls out his second wing.

Kayne stares at the tainted golden liquid on his hands as he drops the wing. "Can I stay and talk?" He hated how small he sounded he just felt so lost like a major part of himself was gone, and he was just a shell.

"If you must." Micheal's voice was fading as he struggled to stay awake.

Kayne took a seat, and he sat there in silence as Micheal's breaths evened out. His head was swimming and he could feel it droop and soon he was back in the door place.

"You know a healthy sleep habit means sleeping every day and not when you want to." The stranger mimics Kayne's manic laughter, but it's even more twisted.

Kayne rolls his eyes. "I don't need sleep."

"You should want it if you want a less broken mind." The stranger smiles. "It's fun watching you struggle like Artie and John falling in holes. Aren't you going to try the doors?"

"I am going to kill you." Kayne growls.

"Maybe, but you have to figure out my game first." The stranger laughs before vanishing.

Kayne huffs and floats backward, hearing the click of a door opening too late.

......

"What are you doing?" A white-haired man in white robes splattered red. The room he is in is a kitchen with a Gothic feel.

The man at the stovetop raised a brow. "I'm cooking Nerophropte. Unlike you, I have a biological need to eat."

"Like that laying down and not moving thing?" Nerophropte floated closer.

"Again, that is sleep." The man shakes his head. "Why are you here?"

"I missed you." Nerophropte was honest in his tone. "You are an odd creature making a god like myself yearn. I can not kill you I-" he's cut off as the man stuffs his mouth with a fresh cut of meat he was cooking.

"You don't want to kill me." The man corrects and chuckles. "Tell me, does that need any more seasoning."

Nerophropte eyes widen as he chews and swallows. "What was that?"

"Hellbeast steak, and you didn't answer my question." The man pauses. "You've never eaten like this, have you?"

"This is eating?"

The man sighs with a smile. He plates the steak and hands it to Nerophropte. "I'll make myself another one."

Nerophropte gasps. "I can have this? I'm allowed to consume this? What else is this food?"

"We can try new things together if you so desire." The man smiles and pulls out another steak.

"I want that very much." Nerophropte picks up a piece and tears it with his teeth and swallows. His chin drips with grease. His feet hit the floor when the man cleans his face with a napkin.

"I will have to teach you proper eduicate if you want to try mortal foods." The man smiles.

Nerophropte could feel his face flush but didn't quite understand what that meant.

.....

"When did you start sleeping?" Micheal tried and failed to sit up.

Kayne woke up with a start, and his eyes were leaking, but the memory didn't fall away like sand this time. He opened a door! He got a piece back. He... he... the liquid on his cheeks didn't fade, and he tried to wipe it away. He shudders out a breath and looks over to Micheal. "When I stole Lucifer eye."

"You didn't steal shit." Micheal rolls his eyes. "You really don't remember anything, I thought Lilith was fucking with me." He grunts and turns his head to face Kayne. "I don't know what happened. I was in prison being warden when the gates were sealed, nobody knew. They thought it was a blessing." He laughs bitterly. "Only strengthen my desires to leave."

Kayne cleans his face and frowns. "I believe it was alternate versions of myself joined together. I'm not certain." He crosses his arms. "Trying to recall anything is like sand slipping through my hands."

Micheal sighs. "Stay? I mean, just until Lucifer returns."

"What's in it for me." Kayne scowls the small feeling was quickly fading.

"How about I tell you how we first met. I'm sure hearing others talk about what you've forgotten could help." Micheal grimaced as the sounds of bones shifting and cracking are heard.

Kayne pulls his chair to Micheal's side. "That and I must admit hearing your organs and bones move and reshape is something that just sounds like the best music."

"Fucking beast." Micheal stares back up at the ceiling. "Lucifer went through this process. He's the first."

Kayne bit through his lip and growled. "Don't."

"Don't what? Tell the truth. The one truth he refused to tell anyone. The one truth that has never passed his lips." Micheal spits up blood with a heavy cough, and Kayne vanished.

......

Oscar jumped at the random imp, who appeared in flames in his living room. "H-hello?"

The imp equally frightened to see Lucifer's child. "I oh um...."

Lucifer growls. "State your business, and why you just appeared in my son's home."

The imp goes to their knees and bows their head. "The fallen... the fallen sir is still healing. It's been... it's been a full week."

Lucifer's anger melted to actual concern. "Stand and tell me what you mean."

The imp scrambles to their feet and looks terrified. "The fallen refuses.... refuses help, but their blood when we change their bandages still has gold. They won't say who they are, and and... and.."

"Enough." Lucifer takes a breath. "Clear the wing and give them complete privacy. I shall be down in ten minutes, and I expect it to be empty."

The imp vanishes in fire leaving the scent of sulfur.

"Mom?" Oscar frowns. "Are you ok?"

Lucifer shakes his head. "No. Normally, a fallen is a low ranked angel like a cherub or just a general population angel. The healing process for them shouldn't take more than a day or two, and they are good to start a new life." He swallows. "For someone on the top and they fall, it could take months or even years." He takes a breath. "I knew your father was lying he isn't a good liar. He met the fallen but refused to tell me about it."

Oscar reaches out, grabbing Lucifer's hand, his father's hand. "Be safe, please."

Lucifer smiles and ruffles Oscar's hair. "I'll be fine, and tell your father I'll be back in hell. Don't tell him I know he lied."

Oscar nods and watches his dad dissapear.

......

The door slammed open before Micheal could react. "You.... you.... Micheal... it's you." Lucifer's voice had surprise mixed with anger. "What the fuck were you thinking?"

"Freedom mostly." Micheal rasps out.

Lucifer sighs and walks to Micheal's bedside. He brushes the now red hair out of Micheal's face. "How long did you think this would take?"

Micheal turns away from Lucifer. "I was just scolding that beast of your mate about his memory."

"That was a week ago." Lucifer pulls a chair over.

"A week?"

Lucifer sighs. "Yeah."

"W-why... why can't I... Luci, what's happening?" Micheal clutched his chest, and cracks are heard within his body.

Lucifer smiles sadly. "I'll set up around the clock care for you. I won't let you suffer like I did."

"W-what?" Micheal barely gets out as he throws up bits of flesh and splinters of bone.

"I lied to Nerophropte." Lucifer wipes the blood around Micheal's face. "I'm not a demon."

Neither notice Kayne appear silently in the room.

"Demons implies I was born or created in hell and that I would be on the same level as well the people here. You can argue semantics, but what I mean to say is that lower-class angels, cherubs, and normal heaven creatures fall down here technically die and get reborn here. Us at the top, well that doesn't happen."

Micheal finally looks back to Lucifer.

"I guess we become more alike to outerworld beings, and this becomes our realm. Just saying I'm a demon so simpler and less baggage than the truth of it." Lucifer sighs. "You won't be alone like I was, I promise." He frowns. "There was nothing here when I fell. I was alone in pain and becoming something I still don't understand."

"T-the g-g-gap of t-t-time." Micheal barely forces out.

Lucifer nods. "Don't speak. I know it hurts. You can't force this to stop, nor can you go back. No matter how much you beg." He sighs again. "I'll have a medical team for you to at least make things a bit more comfortable. You just started, and I hope this is worth it for you."

Kayne knows he has been caught. "I-"

"Sit." Lucifer sighs. "Kayne, I'm not mad at you." He gets up and walks over to Kayne cupping his cheek. "I know you're broken in ways that I can't fix as much as I wish I could. I want you to know mating bond, or if it never happened, I still would hold a place for you in my heart. I know you can't say the same, but for what it's worth, if you no longer wish to be anything but civil with me, then I'll deal with it. I just want us both to be here for Oscar even if you no longer care for me." He let go and sighs. He returns his attention to Micheal. "I'll get a medical team to transfer you to your own wing and to keep a rotation to make sure you're never alone." He vanishes in a black smoke.

Kayne was shaking. He didn't want that. He he... he... fuck why did that hurt? Why? He liked pain he loved pain. He hated this growing pain. He needed to fix this he had to fix this. Why did this hurt so much? He's an old one, a god of the outer realms, he... he was nothing if he didn't figure out how to fix this.

.......

A soft knock on the door that Dennis answers. "Ah, are ye going to threaten me again?"

"No, I am not, fledgling, and I apologize for my earlier behavior." Lucifer sighs. "Unlike Kayne, I find it rude to just appear in my son's home. Nothing against him. We are just different creatures."

"Dennis." Dennis welcomes him in. "Oscar is with the mini him and Faroe. Charlie is here helping with chores." He sighs at the loud cursing.

"Don't fucking track blood on the clean floors!" Noel shouts from the kitchen.

Kayne's voice is heard. "It's just a few drops. I'm not even standing."

Dennis pinches his brow. "Have you come to collect him?"

"No, and our mating bond doesn't work both ways except for appearance. He doesn't really remember me, and therefore, I will not force a relationship built on the vein attempt to go back to once was. I wanted to discuss that with Oscar, but it can wait." Lucifer hums softly. "I can help with the cleaning. It's the least I can do, and...." He scratches his beard. "I can add some rooms if you like?"

Dennis nods. "It's up to you, but our room is off limits."

"I understand." Lucifer smiles. "And again, apologies. I didn't know you were my boy's mate."

"What's death threats between family." Dennis heads to the kitchen as Kayne passes him.

"Lucifer." Kayne stops and lets his feet hit the floor.

"You're getting blood on the carpet." Lucifer raised a brow.

"I have a request." Kayne pauses. "A deal."

"A deal?" Lucifer looked bemused. "A deal for what?"

"No." Kayne huffs. "A wager."

"A wager? You aren't the betting creature."

"Let me sleep with you for a month."

"You don't sleep."

"I do now."

"Fine." Lucifer crosses his arms. "You sleep beside me for a month time, for what purpose of this wager?"

"If it causes me to regain any of my lost memories of us, then you must relent and forever keep me by your side till death." Kayne crosses his arms.

Lucifer's lips quirk into a smirk. "And if it doesn't?"

Kayne frowns and steps back. "Then I shall no longer remain on earth."

"No."

"No?"

"No, Kayne. You may sleep with me for a month, no strings, no commitment, just us. If nothing is to occur, then please give this up. I do not wish to continue on false memories and false hope that you are the one I once knew." Lucifer shuts his eyes and takes a breath. "I can not bear to lay with a stranger who doesn't remember the eons we spent together, building who we were together."

Kayne can feel that twist in his guts again, and it's the one pain he does not enjoy. "Y-yes."

Lucifer nods and summons a vacuum. "Now I'm going to help clean our boy's home. You can help if you wish."

Kayne just follows Lucifer around.

.......

Little Oscar tugged on big Oscar's tail.

Oscsr doesn't jump, thankfully. "What's wrong?" He crouches down to this younger version of himself.

Little Oscar begins to whisper in his ear. "When can I go home? I want my mommy and daddy."

Oscar sighs. "I can go check."

Little Oscar nods.

"Ok, stay here, and I'll be back." Oscsr takes a breath and appears in the other world. He suddenly felt exposed and wrapped the robe tightly around himself. It looked peaceful, and there weren't any more dead bodies or the scent of death in the air.

"Who are you." A blonde hair man who Oscar recognized as this worlds Micheal. "Demons aren't authorized during reintegration of the clean up."

Oscar frowns. "I um... well."

"Calm down, Mikey." Nerophropte appears and floats over Micheal. "How's my little destroyer doing?"

"He wants to go home." Oscar crossed his arms. "It's the first time he's spoken to me since he told me what happened."

Nerophropte frowns. "He can, and so can Artie and Faroe, but they'll be separated for a bit, as per Micheal's orders." He huffs and rotates to be upside down. "Lucy asked me to go along with whatever Micheal asks, which is lame, but like whatever."

Micheal pinches his brow. "Care to explain why an unauthorized demon is here?"

"One you feathery dick, this isn't just a demon. This is another version of my son. Two, my son and his friend and friends father are in his world, and three, if you attempt to hurt him, I will rip you apart and eat your remains." Nerophropte smiles.

Micheal sighs. "My apologies, Oscar. You just... you grew up well." He rubs his arm, and he looks tired, not that angry and confident deamor of his Micheal.

Oscar looks down. "It's.... it's ok. I'm sorry for just popping in. Things have been a bit much on my end, um... the gates of hell just reopened, and I finally got to meet Lucifer again. It's been a very long time, and I don't... I'm not good at this." He frowns and vanishes.

Micheal raised a brow.

Nerophropte scowls. "You scared him off!" He crosses his arms.

"I do not understand what he told us." Micheal frowns.

Nerophropte pauses for a moment. "Right, right, well, that sucks." He spots his son appearing with Faroe and Arthur. "My little monster." He swoops down and picks Oscar up. "Come on, I'm going to bring you home, and mommy will be so happy."

Micheal sighs. "I shall guide the humans to their place of residence."

......

Oscar settled on the couch he curled his wings around him. He enjoyed the peace and quiet. He stiffens as a weight is felt next to him.

"Relax." Dennis leans on Oscar. "Relax, and I'm not going to make you get up. Your parents left about ten minutes ago, and I heard the kids are back home."

"They are." Oscar unfurl his wings and allows Dennis to rest on his chest. "Are you alright?"

"Sore, but I'm fine." Dennis settles in. "I suppose I have missed you." He looks up to Oscar.

"Yes?" Oscar smiles as Dennis stares up at him.

"Is it a crime to stare at my partner?" Dennis smirks.

Oscar chuckles. "Oh, I know that look."

"Do you now?" Dennis chuckles and moves up to kiss Oscar.

"Mmh, I do." Oscar let's his hand move down on Dennis's lap. "Will you behave like a good boy?"

Dennis chuckles and licks his lips. "Depends on my punishment."

"I believe I can think of something you could enjoy." Oscar chuckles messing with Dennis's suspenders.

Noel clears his throat. "So do you want me to leave?" He was holding a glass of water and had a raised brow.

Oscar sighs. "I um..."

"Do you want to join?" Dennis smirks.

"Later." Noel smiles.

Oscar huffs, covering his face. "You're both awful."

"Oscar, we both know how you get this time of the year." Noel sips his drink. "Again, we both are not opposed to helping out." He pauses. "How are you feeling, Butcher?"

Dennis huffs, crossing his arms. "I am perfectly fine. I should be asking you."

Noel rolls his eyes as Hastur manifests on his shoulder.

"My influence changing his body is none of your concern!" Hastur growls.

Oscar pushes Dennis off and gets up. "And the mood is ruined. You two can have your pissing match. I'm heading to my room."

Dennis and Noel exchange a glares.

.......

Lucifer sighs as he pulls off his suit. "What are you doing?"

"Watching." Kayne pauses as he sinks to the floor. He's clean, there isn't a single drop of blood on him, and he looks unusually human. He seemed nervous.

Lucifer nods and makes no comment on his appearance as he continues to undress. "How do you sleep?"

"It just happens when I stop moving." Kayne tilts his head, watching Lucifer as if hoping this would spark something.

Lucifer is down to boxers. "Well, have you slept in a proper bed?"

"No?" Kayne watches Lucifer slip under the covers.

"Well, now you will." Lucifer pulls the blanket down to signal for Kayne to come and lay down.

"Should I change?"

"If you so desire."

"I don't want to do this wrong. We are on a limited time."

Lucifer quirks a small smile. "Do you remember when you tried this for the first time?"

Kayne huffs, and his suit melts away to white robes. "I don't. That's the problem." He throws his hands up, not realizing his clothing has changed. "I laid there for hours as you wrapped yourself around me. You were warm, and I was so scared to move because I didn't understand what you were doing." He was now pacing. "You laughed at me when you woke up. How was I supposed to know what sleep was? I just thought it was a weakness for mortals. an easy way to pick them off, it wasn't fun, yaknow killing them in their sleep. Like fuck there's nothing they just die and it's so boring there's no fanfare."

"Kayne lay next to me." Lucifer held a small smile on his lips as Kayne slipped under the covers next to him. He pulls the covers up over both of them.

"You're still warm." Kayne could feel his body suddenly get very heavy, and his words began to slur. "I feel so weird..."

Lucifer chuckles softly before kissing Kayne's sleeping forehead and curls up next to him. Sleeping next to a ghost should hurt more, but he didn't want to dwell on the fact that he felt like he was falling in love for a second time with the same creature.

.......

The photo negative kayne seemed a bit see-through as he floated by Kayne. "Did not account for good old Lucy to actually come back yaknow."

Kayne crossed his arms floating by this version of himself. "What ruining your fun?"

"Not excatly." The stranger smiles, pointing to Kayne. "It seems something far more interesting is happening."

Kayne finally looks down at himself, confused. Where did his suit go? He tugs at the robes and can't recall when the last time he wore something like this. He knows his memories are shaky at best, but he can't recall when he started to wear suits. "What did you do?"

"Me?" The stranger blinks innocently. "Oh Kayne baby, I'm merely having fun being a gatekeeper. Why would I mess with you? Seeing you stumbke around is entertainment enough."

"Gatekeeper?" Kayne furrows his brows as he tries to grab the Stranger, but they vanish before he realizes he's being dragged into another memory.

........

A man was sitting drinking an oddly bright red tea speaking to a white-haired woman. "Ooooo, I know you!"

The white-haired woman hissed but didn't move when the dark brown nearly black haired man held his hand out. "Nerophropte, what brings you back here? I thought you've grown tired of my sleeping and eating."

The white-haired man sputters. "I have!"

"So you're declaring war once again?" The man sips his tea with a smirk.

"N-no!" The man seems confused with the sudden stutter.

"You heard Nerophropte, Lilith, no bloodshed today."

"Lucifer..." Lilith frowns.

Lucifer hums and puts his tea down. "So why are you visiting? You've made it quite clear you've grown bored with me."

"I..." Nerophropte frowns. "I... I don't know." He sounded alarmed at his honesty. "You've confounded me."

"I have?" Lucifer looks bemused and motions for him to sit. He watches, amused as the outer realm being, figures out how to sit wearing a robe.

"Don't tease them!" Lilith huffs. "Your little domestic outing with this creature was just that a fleeting moment this being doesn't understand anything of importance. Time being shared is meaningless to them. Why do you continue to entertain them?"

Licifer holds up his hand. "That's enough. Nerophropte is a guest."

"I am?" Nerophropte seemed confused and out of place.

"That thing is?" Lilith growls.

"Yes." Lucifer summons another tea cup and fills it, handing it to Nerophropte who mimics drinking it and just blinks confused at the taste. "To an eternity, why must we be needlessly cruel to a being who doesn't even understand why they continue to visit. Isn't it enough that I see amusement in the mere act of watching such an ancient being fumbling for a reason that goes against their nature."

Lilith rolls her eyes. "Whatever you say, sir."

Nerophropte has not taken his eyes off Lucifer since they started to talk. They nurse the drink like it was pure nectar. "I think I was misinformed. I don't believe I wish to stop observing this domestic occurrence." He clearly doesn't understand what that means.

Lucifer chuckles.

.......

Lucifer woke up to black and red mismatched eyes staring at them and cold arms wrapped around them. "Good morning."

"Did Lilith always hate me?" Kayne blinks and hides his face in Lucifer's chest.

"You did nearly kill her a few times in your little wars before we were civil." Lucifer runs his fingers through Kayne's hair. "I suppose she does carry a grudge, although it isn't without reason."

Kayne mumbles something into Lucifer's chest and hums softly.

"No, we're not staying in bed all day." Lucifer smiles, sitting up while Kayne continues to cling to them. He notices he's still just in robes like they first met. Well, now he's human anatomically correct now if he He had both parts below. He did have to admit it was cute how he was trying to hide his face. "Come on. I'm sure we can have a nice day with Oscar. I also have to check on Micheal."

Kayne did not untangle himself. "Oscar can see both of us."

"Never said it was just me." Lucifer sighs, patting Kayne's back. "Come on, get off. I have to get dressed."

"If I don't let go, this still counts as the first night." Kayne huffs. "You can get dressed as I cling."

"Oh, self aware, are we?" Lucifer chuckles. "Sorry, that's not a part of the deal."

"It is now." Kayne is now wrapping his legs around lucifer as he gets up.

"Oh, is it?" Lucifer smiles. "Mmmh, no, I don't think so. I could be inclined to lengthen the month on certain contingencies."

"That are?"

"Not up to you to decide."

"You're just copying me."

"Do you know that for certain?"

"Yes!"

Lucifer's lips curl into a wide grin. He knew better than to comment on the memory situation, so he shaped on a fresh suit and headed out carrying Kayne with him.

.......

"... Why isn't he wearing pants?" Hastur manifests on Noel's shoulders.

"It's too early to ask questions like that." Noel sighs sipping his coffee.

Lucifer is mixing his tea, and Kayne hasn't removed himself yet. "I don't believe he realizes that he isn't in his suit."

"Mmmh, don't care." Kayne mumbles into Lucifer's chest. He's wrapped tightly around Lucifer, and he's only in a white cloak with his sigil on the back.

"I retract that statement. He doesn't care." Lucifer hums, mixing his tea before taking a sip. "Is Oscar already gone?"

"No, it's getting closer to January, which means he tends to sleep in more." Noel clicks his mouth shut as Kayne giggles.

"Can't lie!"

"Hush." Lucifer sighs. "No, he is right to do so. I could have, but I guess I forgot the time of the year in my excitement since i was freed and I could see my boy again."

"Care for a career as law enforcement?" Noel smirks.

"Been there, done that." Lucifer chuckles. "Honestly, the system is so corrupt I would stand out doing the right thing."

Noel snorts

"I do not understand the joke." Hastur huffs.

"Joke...?" Oscar mumbles, rubbing his eyes. "Morning." He yawns shuffling to the fridge his wings were curled around him.

"Where's Dennis? He's normally the first awake." Noel raised his brow.

"Recovering." Oscar yawns again, taking out the carton of eggs. "I was a little much."

"That is perfectly normal for this season. Although he is still fledgling, he will need the practice to strengthen his stamina." Lucifer hums through his cup, taking a sip. "Although you should be resting as well, I don't enjoy the fact you've been going through this while being so. Um, stunted."

Oscar closes the fridge door and stares at both his fathers. "You don't have to be so polite, I know my body is pretty damaged." He blinks. "Um, what is dad doing?"

"It's a loophole." Kayne huffs.

"It is not." Lucifer sighs. "He's just being clingy today, don't mind him." He ruffles Kayne's hair. "You are thankfully looking healthier. Do you want me to make you breakfast?"

"I can manage." Oscar tilts his head. "What is he wearing?"

"From what eyefull I got, just a robe." Noel finishes his coffee.

Oscar frowns.

"To be fair in the beginning, this was the only thing he used to wear m, but he didn't figure out human anatomy back then. It was just smooth." Lucifer takes another sip.

Noel makes a confused face. "I don't think that makes this any better."

"Never said it would." Lucifer smiles as Kayne starts to laugh.

.......

Arthur sips his coffee as he lets John read through the newspaper. "Anything interesting?"

"Hmmm, not really, there's a local winter festival next week." John sighs. "Works been slow."

"Don't tell me you miss us being in danger." Arthur chuckles as John sputters.

"I never said that!" John huffs. "It's quiet without the children, and the other you was... different."

"Chuldren can be a handful John." Arthur sips his coffee.

"I would like to raise a child with you."

Arthur spits out his coffee and chokes coughing.

"Rude." Kayne scoffs.

"John you can't just fucking say that!" Arthur wipes his mouth.

"He did." Kayne floats closer. "Hmmm, I mean things could be rearranged, and I could meddle."

"No!" Arthur and John say at the same time.

"Rude again." Kayne huffs. "I could separate you two, but that would probably kill Arthur. Humans shouldn't live this long. I'm in a good mood, though, so what will it be?"

"No! I will stay with Arthur for eternity." John growls. "I will gladly stay his eyes if it means I won't lose him."

"Oh, that's disgustingly cute." Kayne laughs. "Again, I'm in a good mood, and Oscar sees you both as friends, so death isn't an option." He places his hands on Arthur's shoulders. "I could make you two even closer! Doesn't that sound fun? Oh, I'll even do it free of charge. It's going to happen regardless if you both stay like this."

"I uh.... what?" Arthur manages before he clutches his chest as a burning pain overtook him.

"Say thank you, Kayne!" Kayne laughs manically.

John growls. "What the fuck did you do?!"

"Oh, three two.... " Kayne points, and John begins to scream in pure agony. "Lucy was right. Helping is fun. Ooo, maybe he'll let me cling again after I tell him." He vanishes.

.......

Arthur looked back to see Faroe in her seat, kicking her feet. "Are you alright?"

"Why are we visiting Grandpa? Oscar won't know where I am!" Faroe huffs.

"Faroe, your grandfather misses you, and this is a surprise trip. I understand you wish to see Oscar again, but until I can speak to his parents to set boundaries, we also have other things to discuss." Arthur sighs, looking back to Faroe, who was pouting. "Your grandfather will spoil you."

Faroe huffs.

.....

Daniel raised a brow at the request. He wasn't expecting any visitors, nor did he allow solicitors to be allowed at his door. He opens the door to his son in law. "Arthur?"

"Hello Daniel." Arthur smiles, and Faroe pushes through.

"I didn't want to come." Faroe huffs and crosses her arms with the most adorable pout.

"Faroe!" Arthur sighs. "I'm sorry, she's a bit upset that she couldn't tell her friend we were visiting you."

Daniel gasps and then starts to chuckle. "Just like your mother. A stubborn thing, aren't you? Come in, come in it's a lovely surprise."

Arthur pushes Faroe inside. "Come on, be nice."

"But I didn't want to come!" Faroe groans.

Daniel chuckles louder. "Oh, I see so much of Bella in you."

Arthur sighs. "I'm sorry again for the short notice, Daniel, but I wanted to speak to you in person. It's not a conversation I feel I can have over the phone or in a letter."

Daniel frowns. "Faroe, there's a guest room right down the hall. You can put your stuff in there."

Faroe stomps the entire way there.

"Arthur, are you alright? Is it money? Have you gotten yourself in trouble?" Daniel's tone is serious.

Arthur takes a breath. "It's a bit more complicated than that. Both of us are fine physically." He sighs. "I don't expect you to believe a word I'm about to tell you."

"Arthur..." Daniel pauses.

.....

"Arthur, this is absolutely absurd! How can you possibly expect me to believe a word from your lips! First you take my granddaughter away..." Daniel stops as Faroe and a mysterious boy run into the living room.

"Daddy!" Faroe holds the boy's hand up. "Oscar found me!"

Arthur forces a smile. "Ah, that's great, Faroe."

"Hi, Mr. Lester, Mommy is doing better, but she still can't leave because daddy is being weird." Oscar smiles then gasps. "Sorry, mister, I'm Oscar."

"Child, how did you get in here?" Daniel stares at Oscar with eyes wide since he lives on the tenth floor.

"I appeared." Oscar smiles.

"Yeah! Oscar can get anywhere. Can we play?" Faroe looked to her father.

"Faroe." Arthur sighs.

Daniel gasps louder as another man suddenly appears in his apartment, and he's floating.

"Oscar." The white-haired man tisks. "We talked about this."

"But I want to play with Faroe." Oscar puffs out his cheeks as the man picks him up.

"Sorry bout that Artie, you know how kids can get." The man smiles. "Besides, your mommy told you to play with your uncle."

"Uncle Hasss doesn't want to play! He's mad that Mr. Lester has been busy. Auntie Chutulu isn't in her realm either!" Oscar pouts. "And you said I can't visit my big self during the winter."

"Nerophropte, it's fine." Arthur pinches his brow. "You two can play in the guest room while we talk, but no leaving."

Faroe breaks out in a smile. "Yes!"

Oscar jumps out of his father's arms. "Ok." He grabs Faroe's hand, and they run down the hall.

Nerophropte raised a brow. "He's a slippery thing, but I thought you wanted space from us."

"That was the plan." Arthur holds his head in his hands. "This is Daniel. He's my father in law."

"I already know that." Nerophropte floats down and sits down next to Arthur. "What do you want me to be the tell tale guide to the outer realms?.... really?"

Daniel takes a deep breath. "What you told me was all true?"

"Yes. All of it." Arthur frowns. "I know it's a lot, but it's just..."

"It's not going to go away." Nerophropte hums. "Your little girl and my boy are thicker than theives. I'm glad Oscar made a friend he is so happy it's adorable."

Daniel takes a deep breath. "Can you promise me no harm will befall my granddaughter or my son in law."

Arthur blinks. "Daniel..."

"I won't promise you anything, but since old Yellow has taken fancy to Arthur, he'll be fine. As for Faroe, my boy will protect her. Although Lucy will probably involve herself and keep them safe. I won't let anyone hurt my baby boy, and if that means keeping them safe, then yeah." Nerophropte floats back up listening to the children's giggles.

"I think that's as clear as you'll get that from him." Arthur sighs.

Nerophropte hums and nods. He ignores Daniel's stuttering, watching Oscar and Faroe run back in. "Hello again you two."

Faroe steps forward. "Can I ask you questions? The other you is weird."

"Mmmh? How is the other me weird kiddo?" Nerophropte floats down to Faroe's height.

"You took other Mommy's eye." Oscar hums. "The big me says your mind is very broken there."

Faroe nods. "Yeah, he says he doesn't remember a lot. He also always has messy hands and feet, and he only goes by Kayne. My other daddy is scared of him."

Nerophropte rubs his chin. "That's very interesting."

"The other Lucy is a man!" Faroe gasps. "Can your mommy do that?"

Oscar nods. "Yeah! But now she's my mommy."

Faroe nods. "That's cool. Can you look like a mommy?"

"Oh, can you?" Oscar stares at his father.

Nerophropte smiles. "I could, but I choose not to. I like being me."

"My other daddy has a mustache, it's weird, and I don't like it." Faroe waves her arms. "Amd there's another guy in his head named John like what you called Hastur, but he picked that name, and Hastur is sharing a body with a guy named Noel he's a detective."

"The other uncle Hastur taught us to paint! And John taught us to write the alphabet! They argued a lot." Oscar pauses. "My other daddy said they used to both be together to be the other Uncle Hastur, but John got ripped off and became himself. But that doesn't really make sense."

"Really?" Nerophropte looks at both with fascination. "What else?"

"My other daddy is blind, John has his eyes and sees for him like a guide dog!" Faroe giggles. "Noel says they're an old married couple."

"Are you and Mommy an old married couple?"

Nerophropte laughs loud and manically. "Yes, my little harbinger, we are an old married couple." He ruffles Oscar's hair. "It sounds like you two had a really fun time, but I think it's time for us to go Oscar."

Oscar huffs, then yawns. "But..."

"No, but it's time for a nap, and your mommy is probably very worried." Nerophropte scoops Oscar up.

Faroe huffs. "Fine. Tell Lucy I said hi, and and that daddy wants to talk to her."

Oscar nods. "Mmh ok, bye." They both vanish, leaving Faroe, who also yawns.

Arthur sighs and smiles, picking up Faroe. "It seems you need a nap as well."

"Nooo, I'm a big girl. I don't need naps." Faroe yawns again.

"Big girls need to sleep to grow more. Come on, just lay down for a bit, and when you wake up, I'm sure we can play together." Arthur hums softly.

"Ok, Daddy." Faroe hugs her father tightly.

.......

Daniel was nursing a cup of scotch. "Are you sure you can handle this?"

"No." Arthur sighs, pushing his barely touched drink away. "But I wanted you to know because I want you to be in Faroe's life."

"I appreciate that, Arthur, I truly do." Daniel forces a smile. "I just this is so much."

"I know." Arthur hugs his chest. "I just want the best for Faroe, and for her to be happy. Bella would probably be handling this better than I ever could."

"I think she would have been as lost as you, but she always had a great poker face." Daniel sighs. "Thank you for letting me back in my granddaughters life."

"I had no right to take you away in the first place." Arthur sighs. "Thank you for accepting this."

Daniel nods.

......

"Are you sure you're ok to take this job?" Noel raised his brow.

Oscar growls and then covers his face. "Look, I don't want to just sit around and do nothing. Besides Dennis, you and I have all agreed that if I lose control, you'll be here for me. Also, dad is trying to figure out what my other dad did to help. I really don't want to see what help means to him."

Noel shudders. "Agreed." He hums. "So currently, what we have is that the newly turned vampire is hellbent on turning as many others as they can. The caveat, it's a kid, which, as you know, turning children is highly illegal, which makes this even more dangerous. I did call Arthur, but he didn't answer, which I get he's probably still reeling from his dead daughter and the other him."

Oscar nods sympathetic. "I don't blame him. It took me a while to get used to my younger self. I can't imagine facing a daughter that you blame yourself for hurting." He rubs his arm. "Why are we looking during the day?"

"The rumor mill has it that this kid travels underground to ignore the day. Which is why we're above a sewer grate." Noel motions to his crowbar.

"I will kill you if my heat triggers down there." Oscar sighs and begins to climb down the latter.

"Duly noted." Noel follows after putting the manhole cover back on top. "How do you feel now?"

"Disgusted." Oscar jumps down. "I do have to admit this charm or glamor my dad called it is working really well. I'm glad I can go back out in public."

"Of course, now we have to keep an eye out. Hastur keep our eyes glowing." Noel chuckles.

"I am not your personal flashlight." Hastur growls.

"Of course not. You're my headlamp doll." Noel laughs as his eyes emit a bright yellow light. "If you wanted me to call you doll, you just had to ask Hastur baby."

Hastur grumbles.

"How long did it take you two to actually start experimenting with pet names?"

"Hush spawn."

Oscar and Noel start to chuckle together.

.......

[stesierra]

@yesireadbooks tagged me! My words are water, purse, bottle and glass. I'm drawing from Cast Out.

I'm leaving an open tag and also tagging @elizababie and @macabremoons with the words sprint, fire, dirt, and cut.

Water

I came back outside half an hour later and found Thesil and Sefi sitting together, Thesil's arm thrown across the goose's back. Sefi was snoozing in the sun, her head tucked into her own feathers. I smiled.

"What did you run off for?" Thesil said.

"I wanted to see how many days we can afford to hide out here, in quarantine."

Thesil's mouth shut.

"I presumed you didn't want to run on to the next city. Not when you think we might carry the disease."

"No." She looked away from me. "I thought you might insist we do."

"Why? Because I wouldn't kill myself? We told Abursa we could quarantine ourselves. I meant it."

Her nod was slow in coming. "So. How many days can we stay here before we die anyway?"

I sat on her other side, the one not occupied by the goose. "With the small well near the crossroads, we won't run low on water. But I don't know how far our food will stretch."

"We can eat small meals."

"That will help. But how long is the journey to the next imperfecta camp? If we guess wrong–"

"Starvation," she signed, and looked pleased at herself when I nodded. She was picking up sign so well. Then her smile faded. "We have to risk it. We can't carry the disease to camp."

"No," I agreed. "Are you still convinced we'll be dead in a few days?"

She nodded.

"Don't think like that. Think what we'll do afterwards, instead."

"Walk a long way, I guess."

I nodded. "We'll need to find a new troupe as well."

"Why? You could make a good trade off your paintings without one. Paint a few rocks, and we'd be in business."

"Who would buy a rock?"

"If you put holy symbols on them, the pilgrims will."

"They're already starving."

"Soon so will we."

Purse

The perfectas reached our troupe at mid-day, driving a wagon pulled by donkeys, their necks straining against the weight. A tarpaulin covered the wagon bed. The drivers wore laborer's wool and no jewelry. But Abursa wheeled to greet them anyway. One perfecta tossed her a fat coin purse and drove the wagon into our camp.

I rose from under the shade tree where Thesil and I had taken shelter for the afternoon rest. Thesil was rubbing at her eyes as though an eyelash had lodged itself under her eyelid and multiplied. I left her to it. If the perfectas had brought us an automa, then I would need to paint it.

I reached the wagon at the same time as Abursa. She nodded to me and turned to say something to the perfecta man. He pulled the tarpaulin off the wagon bed with a flourish.

A wooden donkey lay on its side in the wagon, its legs longer and more graceful than any real beast's, its ears feather-plumes, its eyes balls of swirling glass. Its torso shattered by some massive impact that had smashed wood and cut a hole as long as my arm.

I caught a glimpse of the exposed core, glowing a subdued ugly yellow, before the scent of the oracle ore hit me. I staggered forward, visions creeping in at the edge of my sight, and fell to my knees beside the wagon.

Bottle

My gaze was on my little house, my refuge. Another step, and my foot glanced off something hard and round. I stumbled, kicking the obstacle out of my way, and wobbled upright. For once my balance had saved me a trip to the dirt.

The tripping hazard was a brown glass jug, its top tightly sealed with wax and tar. It lay on its side a few feet away until an unremarkable brown hand righted it. I shook myself out of my concerns about Grandmother and blinked at my surroundings. I'd nearly stepped on Tamorin and Gadara. They sat on a folded grass mat just beyond the line of automas, a healer's bag and a book open at Tamorin's side. Bandages and bottles stood out clearly against the bag's black weave. Blankets were folded neatly beside them.

Tamorin was holding the jug carefully and checking it for damage. His sister glared at me. "Watch where you're going."

"Sorry," I signed back.

"You're lucky you didn't break that. Then you'd be sorry."

"Was that a threat?"

Her lip curled. "If you want naphtha all over your legs, be my guest. But you might want to avoid the cookfire."

Glass

The house was beautiful. Some builder had stacked slabs of stone into walls and counters inside, and thatched the roof in bark thin enough that the breeze blew in and the sun stained the edges between strips pale. It had a stone floor, the same flagstone that made up the walls, but the windows were free of glass. Instead, someone had glued sheets of mica together to form a patchwork glaze across the view of the town. In points, it was nearly invisible. In others, it was layered thick enough to tint the world golden as honey.

[wiltf]

perhaps amma should have considered the loss of feeling in her body as something interlinked with the holes in her mind. she was aware of it, of course, dragged through the shore and goblin gore alike, into the winding hills of a druid stronghold. but that awareness was similar to each breath daring to force more of her innards outwards.

she had yet to truly remove her shirt and inspect the damage, but as she leans against one of the carved statues, amma knows she should have. a finger prods and pokes herself, while the rest lead the conversation. asking for halsin, healer, information not fully divulged. sworn to secrecy, much like how amma swears that her finger should not have been able to press her flesh so far, until it finally hurt.

(gods, was that a kidney missing?)

haphazard armour and leathers, stained in all kinds of muck, hide her away. retrieved from bodies in the nautiloid and along the beach. amma thinks of the pod, and the burn on her thigh that had not healed. she had to take fire to the wound, sear it shut for as long as she could.

wets her lips, but it’s not enough. everything tasted like old iron, and when amma looks up, finally, her gaze meets astarion’s first. heady red eyes, brighter in the shadows of this hollow. watching her, flare of the nose, and he looks away.

were her mind in a better place, amma might have been able to put it all together.

except she agrees to the request - find halsin, now. not just in the stone here, no, towards the goblin camp. a good few days of travel away. back teeth grind, catching the inside of her mouth in the process. that ethel had a few elixirs on her table that would no doubt keep her moving, at least, regardless if her soul still wandered within the flesh.

movement. like a hive mind that came to a decision, action, progression. amma meant to follow, except that stone was cool, and her head felt so hot. a mind that searched, of course, for the source of just where it all came from, calling forth haphazard memories of scalpels and stitches. sometimes it was her own hand, other times it was not.

amma does not remember crumpling to the floor. nor the way in which her skull bounced off of stone, throwing her spotty brain around in the bone and fluid. that would just be a fact, acknowledged and something to move on, when she would awake.

salves and incense drawing her back to life with a hiss. everything itched and amma blindly reaches for the bandages, trying to free herself from whatever druidic healing method she had been subjected to (how did she know? why did she assume? were they not trying to help? her mind asks. she tells her mind to quieten).

“amma, you need to stay still.”

too many hands, too much force. was she blinded? did they not know that it was possibly worse to blind a frightened animal? let alone a wounded one, who had already proven times over that anything was a weapon? amma wants to bite the hands who heal her. amma wants to tear and scream and cry, gods, it hurt. where was she watching from, truly, to be able to somehow know that she was thrashing? was it all a part of her mind, tricking her into thinking she was simply an onlooker — a passerby?

was this a fragmented memory, irony twisting this into the way hands force the centre of her chest down. they do not dip into the ribcage, like she might once have been inclined to. no, these hands follow a shape, ignoring ridges and bumps. trying to force the weave in, and pull—

and pull the rot out.

“let me die.” her voice, yet her mouth does not move. a whisper that contained no fear. “lead me to the fugue plane.”

please please please please pleasepleasepleaseplease!

“you swore an oath to find halsin, and i cannot let you die before you bring him back.”

were they talking to her? was she talking to them? amma only lifts her head enough to slam it back into the stone; how silly that no one gave her a pillow to soften the blow. again, and again, and again, as hands are quicker, and voices are raised. wasted resources, she agrees, whilst she is pinned and strapped to a bed — wait, no, no she was not. there were no restraints on her hands, as when amma rolls her wrist, she cannot feel a buckle nor leather. nor her feet, legs, waist, wherever. most definitely not against her forehead.

strange, so strange. she could have sworn they were were. gods, gods, who did she pray to? who would she seek? amma recites the names, wordless, trying to ignore how she was burning from the inside out. how she finds herself begging at the feet of death — loviatar, mask, talona, shar, kelemvor, jergal, bha—

amma screams. and screams, and screams.

they were regrowing an organ. fuck, fuck, fuck! she could see all now, even as she thrashed and fought and tried to throw all the hands off. sweat and blood, over herself, over them. druids had replaced the few companions who had just walked in the same direction. wyll did not linger back, nor did lae’zel. a shoulder each, and fury in the latter’s eyes. amma looks between them, fast enough that the room spins, and she is not sorry she did not say anything — she was just sorry that she increased the debt.

somewhere along the way, the druids withdrew. at some point, amma was able to bend her knees, straighten her back on the stone. breathe, and not feel like everything might cave in should she hold for a second longer than she should. wiggle of her toes and moving her fingers, and the stone was cool where she had expected it to be warm, as she slid her hands towards the edge, to where she might be able to sit.

“you should have died several days ago, by my estimation.”

amma laughs — then stops. why should she? why was that a familiar statement, that humoured her. everything hurt, as she tries to stand, to keep her spine straight. not to fold on the newly grown nor repaired. meets nettie’s eye, and it was just them, only them.

“where are the others?” voice far too hoarse, but amma would fix that right up, yessir. the pitcher of water was where nettie sat, chair pulled against a table. one step, two, one more for good luck.

“i do not know,” nettie says.

yet she was lying through her teeth, and amma had yet to figure out why people insisted on lying to her. but that was fine, the water was within reach. tin cup, shaky and outstretched hand. sting of nettles, across skin that was still covered in a film of something vaguely minty.

“fuck—! really?!” amma can only stare, now. amazed. skin already mottling around the wound. “why did you save my life, then? to only poison me once more?!”

“they told me about the tadpoles, and had a look at what research halsin had left behind. however, this was after—”

amma doesn’t listen. not really. she did not understand these people; druids had never been her kind of preferential crowd, that much her mind could tell her. so, she does the next best thing, in that amma grabs the pitcher, and holds it to her lips. and drinks, deeply, as water had never tasted so sweet. like a book, with some pages torn out and others written in draconic or infernal or whatever other language she must have known at one point, her mind opens. acknowledges that she would not be capable of flushing her system of a poison in this way. but that was not the intended effect of damn near drowning herself in the pitcher.

as the action seems to stun the woman before her, who clearly had prepared a speech. open mouthed, gaping, as amma drinks until the last drop is gone, with water that spills over the edges cascading down whatever bandages still clung to scarred skin.

“apologies, i was quite thirsty—as you were saying? you know about the tadpoles, i should have died and… then i do not know.”

“you—i—well…” clearing of her throat, and yet nettie had lost the bravado, as in her hand was a vial neatly labelled. no doubt an antidote, intended to be a bargaining chip in this conversation, that much amma was certain of. loosely held, and one quick swipe would secure it.

“someone performed surgeries on you, only recently.”

“yes, i had assumed as much. thank you for regrowing an organ or—” quick press, along skin. possibly half of her liver restored, and it did not feel as if her body was going to collapse from weight. “—two, muscles… bone.”

yet nettie’s brow furrows, trading the antidote for a pencil. “we did not manage such a feat. it was all we could to relieve your body of the infections you carried.” quick words on paper, trying to capture her confusion. “we reset some bones, pulled shards from inside—and i am sorry that we were unable to remove most of the scarring but…”

amma does not wait for the opening, downing the antidote quickly. holding the little glass vial with care, despite herself. despite the need to press in. “what the illithids are truly capable of is far beyond anything imaginable.”

she did not need to finish nettie’s sentence. yet that little tadpole stirs in her mind, proud of itself, for keeping her alive. interesting and unsettling at the same time — whoever had taken the time to consider such a thing was not someone she was sure she wanted to meet.

“i ask you—beg of you—to find halsin. he is far greater a healer than i, or anyone in this grove. i—we—” a pause, a vulnerability. repeating herself as if it might endear amma to the cause, and not acknowledging that she was not going to give up her word.

were her head not throbbing, she might have been offended.

“he cannot fall to them, amma. you cannot let him be infected.”

a snort, despite herself. letting the vial rest gentle on the edge of the desk, and amma is not sure what to do with her hands just yet. whether she would have been given a courtesy to inspect wounds and scars alike. “your druid could have already been infected in the time he was gone, you know. a grim reality you may want to acknowledge soon.”

nettie shakes her head. too sure of herself, but amma. amma does not ponder over such defiance in the face of reality. amma does not consider that nettie may have only been fooling herself. no, amma does not consider that this was categorically a narrative moment, were she within a fairytale. all she does, really, is pull the damp bandages from her skin, wash basin and cloth at the ready to remove balms and salves alike.

bloomed in bruises, and amma only laughs to herself, as new scars interrupt old tattoos, as that deep scar on her chest now sits. a malformed dowsing rod if she had ever seen one. hair piled and tied on her head, fingers that follow the scars that disappear into whatever remained.

“halsin would be able to heal your mind.”

that stops amma, and with a click of her tongue, she responds, “you should not make promises on behalf of a person, that you are in no position to keep.”

“those lacerations are quite deep along your skull, and i presume that the bone had been pierced. halsin can help.”

when amma meets nettie’s eye, it was not the face of someone who should have known better. earnest, defiant, scared. holding the gaze presented to her with no indication that she would back down, but her thoughts were all over her face — scattered yet fearful. the situation should have been rather humorous or light, as amma sat on the bed she had occupied only just before, with only the towel as some form of modesty. clothes neatly folded at the end, and these druids had seen more of her than she could even remember.

nettie does not stop, despite herself. it was almost admirable.

as amma dresses, she speaks, loudly and clearly, without so much as a backward glance. “a word of advice for negotiation, nettie. when someone had already agreed to an impossible task, it generally considered quite gauche to poison them. particularly after you also healed them, which reinforced a repayment in kind.”

“apologies… it has been a stressful time, and i anticipated the worst once your companions revealed that you had all been infected.”

like a delicate little tick tick tick in the back of her mind, does it finally have amma react. sharp twirl, controlled paces, but how her hand hits the desk, or holds the back of nettie’s chair. that was not control. that was nails digging in, grain of the wood bending under pressure. it was amma caging nettie in against that space, furrowed brows and annoyance on her face at the apology.

“i will say this���i may not remember who i was, but my muscles remember much of what i can do. and i will not act on that memory today, nettie, out of the kindness shown by healing me.” deep shaky breath, as amma stares at her own reflection in nettie’s eyes. “but you should show caution for the next person that you swipe at. kelemvor’s kiss can go both ways.”

let go, she tells herself. step back. and her body aches, willing her forward, to show the healer exactly what she meant. but amma can only curse, sweat beading on her forehead, and stands upright. “now, where are the others?”