#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.

[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.

[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.

[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.

[notzawzark]

I really enjoyed your story a part two would be lovely but do not push yourself and have a lovely day

GHOST (mw2) X MALE READER (platonic) PT2

woooooo yeah baby, thats what ive been wait for, thats what ive been taking about, wwoooooo, another installment of my poorly planned fanfic

as perusual: sorry for any typos, and do not expect some grandiose writting, i am not that smart

CW/TW's: toture, gore, vomit, if i should add more just tell me and i will

I throw on a shirt. A button up. Not one I chose myself, but its not like I hate it. Its ugly but in a charming way. I put on leather boots, keeping the pants I wore to sleep on. Its not my best outfit, but considering how little sleep I got last night, I don’t anyone will care. I sure as hell don’t. 

I leave my room, entering into a hall. The cold concrete  below me tapping under my feet. I stop in front of ghosts room. I hear talking on the other side of the heavy metal door. Faint, but still there. The guards posted in front of the door ask me if I want in. I tell them no. I want to get somethings first. I wonder the halls. Looking for the stairs up. The building were currently holed up in (and have been for awhile) is some old abandoned hospital. When we first set up here, it was trashed. To this day  It still doesn’t look very homely, but its better then it was.

Ive been stashed away in the basement, Also where the interrogation room is set up. i find the stairs, ascending up to floor level. I make my way to the current medical ward. there are so many people. You wouldn’t expect this place to be so packed, but it almost always is. Most of the people here are good. Civilians. Simply people in need of doctors, but without the money to get any. Cant say the same for the people stationed in the basement.

“hey.” I try and get the attention of one of the makeshift medical staff. His name is Chester im pretty sure. “shit-“ he turns around, startled. he was tending to some random sick person. Cant tell why their sick though. “(reader)!” he sounds pleasantly surprised. Like meeting an old friend unexpectedly. Weve only really ever talked a few times. “I need bandages.” I tell him. He looks around, a but confused, “uhm…” he takes a second “do you mind if I ask why? Or is that.. uh.. can I ask why?” he lowers his voice into a whisper for the last bit, leaning in.

All the ‘doctors’ know who theyre working for. The same man im working for. But that’s about all they get to know. We bring them medical supplies so that they can help their towns people. in return, they fix up anyone we bring to them, no questions asked. It’s a covert deal, and they arent aloud to talk about us. If they did, my boss would probably anonymously tell the police what they have set up here. Only one of the doctors has a medical license.

“the bandages arent for me” he understands that he isnt gonna get much more then that, nodding and leading me away from his current patient. He takes me to a closet “bandages and stuff are in here,” he opens it, “can I ask what type of wound your bandaging?” he asks, leading me in.

“I don’t know.” It sounds like a copout, but I genuinely have no idea. It could be anything. Cuts, burns, chopped off limbs. “oh wow.” He looks worriedly, searching through the random supplies. He hands me a roll of white bandages, “here” and then he goes back to looking around. “what are you looking for?” I peek over his shoulder. “well your probably gonna need more then just the plain bandages, even if we don’t know what you gonna have to fix up.” he hands me some bandage tape. “thank you” I tell him.

we part ways, and I start back to the basement. Stopping on my way to ghosts new room to get a bucket of water, two rags, and a towel.

I stop in front of the door, there isnt any talking now, nodding to the two guards. They go to open the door, but its prematurely opened by someone else. Im greeted by a man covered in someone else's blood. The man with the cart of torture supplies. The butcher. “hi-“ my voice cuts off. “hello.” He looks down at the assortment of things Chester handed me. He grunts, pushing past me, dragging his cart behind him. Its bloody. Very bloody. there are a few loose teeth on it that werent before, and it leaves a trail of blood behind him as he leaves.

I enter the room, hastily met with the smell of blood and vomit. I turn my face, it smells fucking awful. The door is shut behind me. The table has been moved off to the side, and ghost to the middle of the room. Hes covered in his own blood. “hey..” I let out. I try not to let my concern waver my voice. Ghost groans, and then ends up in a coughing fit. His mask is off, but his head is dropped down, facing the floor, blood soaked in his hair. I go over to the table, dropping my supplies down, and picking up his skull mask. “would you like your mask back?” I ask, turning to him. He just coughs more. Im pretty sure he coughed up blood.

I get up closer to him, placing down my bucket of water, his breathing hastens, he turns his face away. It takes a moment for it to click, “oh shit-“ I look at the rag in my hand, “im not gonna water board you bro, I swear.” I panic out, trying to make him less weary of me. 

It doesn’t work much, and he tenses everytime I move. Pulling up my sleeves, I dip the rag in water, and then start to clean out his wounds. There are different kinds. Some deep gashes, some circular holes in his skin, others bruises so blue youd think it hurt his bones. I don’t really get a good look at his face, even while I try and get blood off of it. he moves his face away everytime I try to touch it. its Understandable, but it makes things much more difficult. 

I give up on trying to clean his face, and just put his mask back on him. He immediately seems more comfortable, still incredibly tense, but less so then before. I continue to clean off all the blood on him. Its tiring. Eventually its done though. I wrap the towel around him, covering him and helping him dry all in one. I get up, and grab the bandages, and tape. i get back to him, placing both on the ground. I open the package for the bandages. 

I cover up most of the big gashes, and even a few of the smaller ones. Im covered in dried up blood now. I clean up around his chair too. Just getting blood up off the floor. Theirs vomit beside him. I begrudgingly clean that up too. I throw the second rag into the bucket. Taking a deep breath ones ive left the floor.

“thanks” ghosts voice sounds hoarse and it cuts out at the end. I go sit up in the table off to the side. “whens the last time you slept” I ask him the first real question of the day. Its quiet for a few minutes until he responds, “four days.” I mouth a ‘wow’ under my breath. I hold my breathing in thought, puffing out once I get to my conclusion. “ill let you sleep the entire time im here.. which should be..” I trail off thinking and doing math in my head, “two hours I believe, if you tell me what you guys know.”

He doesn’t respond. “what about a hint.” I smile at him. “no” his voice sounds more firm. The smile doesn’t fade. “fine, then you wont sleep for another day.” I hop off the table, and get onto the chair that was discarded next to it. Theres still paper and pencils, and so I start drawing. I draw him again. Its quiet in the room for nearly 20 minutes, I look up from my drawing every now and then to make sure he isnt asleep.

Hes falls asleep. I throw a balled up piece of paper at him. He startles up, looking around frantically to assess the situation. He drops his head back once he realizes it was just me. “if you had given me that hint I would have let you stay asleep” I taunt him. “fuck off” he blurts out. Hes getting comfortable, that hes just tired enough to not give a shit.

It gets quiet again.

“you know what-“ I look over to him, getting out of my seat and sitting on the table again. “if you tell me about your family ill let you sleep..” I pause, “that or your name” he looks me dead in the eyes, then up and down. Silence. “how’d you know about my brother?” he asks. A surprise for sure. “we made a little file on you, figuring out everything we could before we ambushed you. It was in that file… one of the few things about you in that file, and not just about ghost.”

“I am ghost.”

“you are a ghost.. you know how hard it was to find that out about your brother? That you even had a brother?”

“that’s the point.” He says in between coughs

I take a deep breath in and out. “I guess it is.” I say looking off.

A silence settles again. For about five minutes. He stares at me for three of them before looking away. “my brothers name was tommy.” I snap my head towards him. I didn’t actually expect him to tell me about his family. “is that so.” I inquire more. “he had a kid.” He continues. “and where is that kid now?” ghost doesn’t answer.

“and what about your dad?” he doesn’t respond, just like last time. I sigh. i want more, but technically he followed the rules I had. “you can sleep.” I jump off of the table, and get back to my drawing. Ghost gets as comfortable in his seat as he possibly can. Wasting no time to getting to sleep.

An hour and a half pass by. Ive filled the entire page with drawings. Ghost is sound asleep- the door starts to open. Shit. “HEY-“ I greet the person at the door loud enough to wake ghost up. “your back early,” I turn to the door. And ghost hurriedly wakes up. “(reader).” ‘The butcher’ greets me back, waving one of his hands stiffly at me. 

“uh- can we have a few more minutes?” I rush out as the large man starts hauling in his cart into the room. He stops in his tracks. Slowly turning to look at me. “your time is up.” fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck “yeah but… i-I I was- I was starting to get somewhere with my… interrogation.”

“where?”

“he was starting to talk about his- uh his family and-“

“the boss doesn’t want to hear about his family.” He cuts me off

I look to ghost, and then to the man in front of me. “yes but-“

“why are you wasting my time (reader)?”

He cuts me off again.

I mumble and apology. I really shouldn’t have fucking done that. Shit, all cause I wanted to show ghost my stupid drawing.

He leaves his cart next to ghost, who has started hyperventilating. “you gave him bandaids.” He points out. “I didn't want him to bleed out.” I  had already thought of an excuse. “I didn’t say you could give him bandaids.”

“yeah but he was probably gonna die”

“I didn’t say you could give him bandaids.” He turns to me. “yeah and the boss didn’t say you could kill him,” I retort.

He picks up a pair of pliers, holding them so tight his knuckles turn white. Hes threatening me. Fuck. “im sorry, I just didn’t want valuable intel to die.” I soften my voice, trying to de-escalate the situation. He turns back to ghost. I start to leave. “your not aloud to leave.” He snaps his pliers a few times to emphasize.

“come on man-“ I turn around towards him, my voice breaking. I don’t want to be here. He hums a bit, snapping his pliers a few more times. He doesn’t respond. “ill get you those drugs you wanted.” He stops humming, and lets the air fill with silence. “alright, you can leave.”

I practically run out of there. I feel bad. I feel bad for ghost. I feel bad about having to steal from the med ward. Shit. I really wanted to show him my drawing. I bet he would have told me it was cool. I get to the showers upstairs, and I wash all of his blood off of me. Then I go to my room. I put the drawing next to the first one. Hopping onto my bed.

If I get caught stealing ill be as good as dead.

hiiiiiiiii i see you made it to the end again, blushes

if everything goes to plan there should be at least five chapters of this fic when im done

[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."

[danny-chase]

How many times has Dick been homeless/Alcoholic?

You're like the Wikipedia of the titans btw (compliment)

Thank you! It helps having friends who are just as obsessed with other characters on the team as you! So there's not really a short answer to this question, and it's going to depend on which timelines you're pulling from/consider canon and you're own interpretation of the scenes, image descriptions are in the alt text, i ordered these based on when the comics came out:

There's this time in NTT where no one's quite sure where he lives

The New Teen Titans #33

So this one is very open to interpretation, but for me it was weird that Kory didn't know where Dick is living, because in #29 Donna says he's working with the Titans, alone, with Bruce, and going to college. At this point to my knowledge, he doesn't have his own apartment (I'd need to double check with Batman/Detective Comics to be sure though). Why Kory didn't go to his college, I'm also not sure. But clearly the Titans still thought he was living at home but he's not. He does have a room in Titans tower, so I would say he's not technically homeless, but he kinda disappeared for a hot second. This scene takes place during the Adrian Chase arc and sometime after that and before The Judas Contract, he moves into his own apartment.

2. Dick's post-crisis departure from Bruce

Batman (1940) #416

Now what a lot of people get wrong about this era is that Bruce didn't kick Dick out - he fired Dick from Robin and as Dick describes it:

"For six years you trained me to be a crime fighter, then denied me that role. Of course, you assured me that it was for my own good. I lay there with a bandaged shoulder and my life in ruins. You smiled, kicked a great big hole in my life, then walked out of the room. I didn't see what option I had, other than to split. Alfred tried to talk me out of it. It was Alfred who forced money on me so I'd have something to live on. You couldn't even be bothered to say goodbye."

So while Bruce probably would have been okay with Dick moving back in after he dropped out of college, Dick didn't feel like he could come back home and he didn't have a permanent residence until he moved in with the Titans/rented his own apartment. This origin i think was retold by tom taylor but i'm not super paying attention to that run

3. Dick gets evicted, unclear living situation take 2

The New Titans #97

Basically at this point the tower is destroyed and they don't really show where Dick's living after getting evicted and his stuff burning up :/ so whether he's crashing on someone's couch or figured something else out, i don't know

4. Dick gets sent to juvenile detention for being homeless

Robin Annual (1993) #4

So technically he has a bed to sleep in, but post his parents dying, in this retelling of his origin (this one is by Chuck Dixon, who wrote a good chunk of his solo comic) he ends up sent to Gotham City's Youth Center, which is not really a home or an orphanage, it's more like a juvenile detention facility and some of the kids jump him like immediately after this panel. So, it's not exactly a safe place to be, but it's also not the street (although he can climb out and tries running away pretty quickly before being told to go back by Batman), he spent a month here before he moves to a permanent home with Bruce

5. Dick runs away

Robin: Year One #3

Again, he's not explicitly kicked out, but Bruce neglected him after he got injured in the Two Face incident to the point where he felt completely unwanted/unloved, was miserable and decided to leave. He joins a gang soon after this. This story is retold later in the Nightwing run, and has Dick as 12 when the two face part happens and 17 when he runs away for different reasons (it's kind of like - two different authors reference two different parts of the story, one of which is Marv Wolfman, and he changes a lot about it, but i'm not bothering to count the incident twice, and this was the first time the running away bit appeared in canon)

6. The Blockbuster arc

Nightwing (1996) #91

So this is the first time we literally see Dick sleeping on the streets. Basically the rundown is, his apartment got blown up, Haly's Circus was burnt down, and Blockbuster was killing people just for talking to him so yeah :(

7. Skaboom

Batman (1940) #649

So at this point, Dick was drifting and living with the mob/training Rose Wilson and didn't exactly have a stable home life, and then DC decided to drop a bomb on his city, so all of that blew up. He proceeded to go on a cruise with Bruce and Tim and um. yeah sure that fixes things i guess (the only point in this cruise that we see, to my knowledge, is Bruce ditching the two of them to go live in a cave, and Tim and Dick having some fun international adventures, though to be fair, i didn't read the batman comics at the time, and the recap was in Tim's robin solo). when he gets back, he finds an apartment

8. Ric

Nightwing (2016) #50

So during the Ric arc, Ric breaks into other people's homes to sleep, or sleeps in his cab. Points to Alfred for giving him money (again). I'm thinking this is where you're bringing in the problems with alcohol. This is the only arc that I know of where Dick/Ric drinks frequently (he has a bar tab, but full disclosure, I haven't actually read the whole arc, so i'm not sure the extent to which he drinks)

If i missed any feel free to add on

[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.

[ashesrebirthed-a]

what  kind  of  herb  are  you ?

cordelia

CUMIN.        You see yourself so clearly that you can see the gaping hole inside you where you lost a piece long ago. It's there and it's ragged and painful and bleeding and you don't know how no one else can see it when it takes up so much of your awareness. You run from it, fight it, try to find it but nothing bandages up that hungry mawing void inside yourself and when you're tired, uninspired, you swear it grows and grows. You promise yourself you want to be alone, promise yourself that you want to be different, want to be special, love having this hole inside you and point it out in words or song or jokes and stories and take pride in that pain, in your uniqueness in this world of grays and storm clouds. You are 5 am rain on asphalt roads and sputtering street lamps. You are petrichor musings and messy guitar chords and a thousand contradictions wrapped inside a quiet cry, an evening of coffee and jittering hands and a promise that you're okay or that you're fine until you're falling apart in someone's arms or messages and pretend you're alright in the morning. You taste so strongly but sometimes you wonder if all you are is ash.

delphine

OREGANO.        You are home to so many people and yet you're not at home with yourself. Everyone needs something from you and you desperately try to prove that you're enough but you're never enough, never good enough, never even you despite all of that. Your hands shake but only when you're never looking at them and your smile is so ever-present you can't help but wonder if its fake, wonder how much of you is real. You're a caretaker, but are you even good at that, or are you faking yourself out into believing you're something that you wish you could, someone that someone else needed you to be when you were small and so full of need and hope and fragility? Who are you underneath the need to be someone's home? Who are you when you come home to yourself?

keiko

MINT.        The world is a puzzle, so complex and multifaceted that you long to run your hands through the tapestry of its wonders and stay there forever, lost in the threads and colors and stories. You wish to stay there forever and you tell yourself it's to know the world but maybe it's not, maybe it's a fear that you're not enough, that you're so fragile and helpless in a world that moves too fast, to sharply, too many bright, painful colors that you stay locked inside your mind and thoughts, where you decide the tempo of your world, where you can grow and be as competent, as capable as you want, where the world is as wide as you can imagine it and never out of control unless you want it to be. Your shield is your knowledge, your mind, and you never feel ready enough for the world around you, never feel prepared enough, never safe, and you wonder if things could have been different, if you could have been better, happier, more like everyone else if you'd just known what you know now.

ruby

CARDAMOM.        You're lonely but it's okay. It's okay. It's okay. You've always been okay except you're not and somehow you've made yourself and everyone else around you believe that too. Connection to anyone is harder than you could have ever dreamed when you were young and unloved and invisible to everyone who was supposed to care about you and save you from the voiding hollowness in your chest, in your throat. You smile and say you're okay and you are, or at least you tell yourself you are, but is anyone even worried? You tell yourself that they are or maybe that it's good they aren't. You'll be okay, one day. One day.

tagged  by: @giftedeath <3 tagging: @auragifted @sadauroras @slayerofvampyrs @screwhope @feylived @morexfuntomiss + whoever else wants to!