#you ever just get brought back from the dead?

[classyrbf]

DO I LOOK LIKE HIM! #2 — MEGUMI FUSHIGURO

SYNOPSIS...all his life it was just him and his mother, his father nowhere to be seen or found, vanished, a ghost. No one ever spoke a word of him, he didn’t even know his name. But deep down he begs for answers as his mother always said that he looked just like ‘him’

INFO...megumi x mom!reader, toji x reader, angst, family issues/trauma, absent father, implications of suicidal thoughts, talks of depression, toji is an assassin/in a gang, implications of murder, not proofread

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

part 1

It was a chilly Saturday morning. The birds chirped as snow fell from the sky, laying a thick blanket across the trees and ground. Megumi was still asleep while you cooked breakfast for him like you always did. His favorite being eggs, hash browns and bacon. Two weeks ago you could’ve sworn your relationship with your son was ruined, came crashing down when he found out about his father. Toji Fushiguro. Though, it only seems like the situation only brought you closer than ever. He kept asking you about him, what he was really like, how he talked, what he used to wear, did he play any sports. He asked everything. And you told him everything.

You didn’t forget one detail about Toji. From the fifteen years that he’s been gone, you still remember every detail on his face like it was just yesterday. You remember the exact clothes he was wearing the night he left and you remember the look in his eyes when he walked out the door while you pleaded for him not to go. Fifteen years and it still breaks your heart to remember. Sometimes you wished you forgotten about him. Every since then you haven’t been with anyone else. You’ve tried and failed. Went on dates, went out to clubs and bars, whatever it was, but no one was him. No one was your Toji.

Some of your high school friends live happy lives, married, nice house and car with a big family and of course the family pet. But you never got your fairytale ending. You didn’t get the easy way like everyone else. It was just you and your son the entire time and whatever hardships you endured, it was for him. After Toji left you fell into a depression. You never left the house unless it was to get groceries or other essentials, but otherwise you were cooped up. It was just you and your son. Crying yourself to sleep every night seemed like the only option you had at that time. Wasting hours trying to call Toji only for it to go straight to voicemail. You prayed he come back for you two. But he didn’t. Years and years went by and you lost hope. You believed he was dead and maybe he was.

You loved Megumi so much. Everything you did was for him, every battle fought. He was the reason you kept going. He couldn’t grow up without a mother and a father. He doesn’t know that he’s saved your life.

“Mom?” You hear your sons groggy voice as he walks into the kitchen. You glance over your shoulder and laugh at the way he stands there, his hair messy and one of his eyes barely open.

“Morning, Megs. I’m just making you breakfast.” You smile. He hums in response, turning back around and dragging his feet into the bathroom. Even down to the mannerisms he acts exactly like him. You shake your head with a laugh, turning the stove off and grabbing his plate to toss the scrambled eggs on top. “Megs, your food is on the table when you’re done!” You shout. You run over to the fridge, grabbing the orange juice and pouring him a glass when the doorbell rings. “Hold on!”

Putting the juice away, you walk over to the door with the glass in hand. “Who is it?” You ask.

“It’s me.” A voice speaks. It almost sounds recognizable, but not. Your brows furrow while undoing the locks and when you open the door, the frigid air cuts through the warmth of your house and surrounds you.

“You must have the wrong—” As you look up, your eyes widen and the glass drops from your hair, shattering against the wooden floor. Your mouth opens to say something but not a word comes out. It was like you were stuck, frozen. Tears filled your eyes as you took in the man who was standing in front of you. “Toji…?” You utter, bringing a shaky hand up to your mouth.

“Hi, sweetheart.” He grew slightly taller, his hair shorter and you can see the slight wrinkles in his face. He was a lot more muscular too, but nonetheless he still looked like him.

“Oh my god!” You jump into his arms, hugging him tightly. “Toji!” You sobbed. Being in his embrace felt so natural despite how long it’s been. He hugged you back, clenching his eyes shut as he breathed in your scent.

“Mom?! What was that?!” Megumi came rushing out the bathroom running towards where he heard the glass break. Instead, he halted in his steps when he saw the familiar face he only recently learned from photos. “Dad?”

Toji opened his eyes, his expression dropping when he saw Megumi standing there in front of him. You removed yourself from his arms, turning to see your son standing there with tears in his eyes. “Megs, it’s your dad.” You smiled, wiping your tears.

And Toji couldn’t believe what he was seeing. It was like he was looking at a younger version of himself. But he couldn’t wrap his head around it. He knows it’s been fifteen years, but he was still expecting to see his two year old son walking towards him. Toji stepped into the house, slowly walking towards Megumi, hesitating to say or do anything until Megumi jumped into arms. “Dad!” He cried.

Toji clung to his son, hot tears streaming down his cheeks. “I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.” He muttered against his hair. “Please forgive me.” He breathed. You stood there with pursed lips watching the two of them reunited, but hearing Toji’s apologies broke your heart. “I never wanted to leave you. You understand me?” Toji pulled Megumi away so that he was looking at him. “I’ve missed you so much.”

“Ive missed you too.” Megumi nodded his head wiping his tears. “Mom told me. She told me everything. I don’t blame you, dad.” He sniffled, shaking his head. Toji looked towards you his eyes softening. It’s like you could see everything within him. All the regret, the sadness, the anger he’s been holding within him for all this time.

He stepped towards you, cupping your face in his hands, his eyes searching yours. “You still look so beautiful.” He smiled. “I never once stopped thinking about you.” He said, holding back tears. “You and Megs were always with me. I’m sorry for leaving you, baby.” He hugged you.

It was hard not to cry. You couldn’t hold in your emotions. Not anymore. Everything that you’ve been holding back was finally letting out. You missed him. You missed seeing him with Megumi. You missed his voice, his scent, his everything. “It was so hard, Toji.” You cried. “I needed you. We needed you.”

“I know, I know.” He kissed the top of your head, gently rubbing your back. “Be angry with me, do whatever you want to me. I’m just happy to have you both back.”

You could never hate him. That was never a thought in your head. You could never hate the man you love. All you could do was understand him and his pain. He was hurting just as much as you. He left to protect you and your son. “I thought you were dead.” Your voice broke through your sobs. “I thought…”

“Shhh, shhh, I’m here now,” he whispered. “I’m right here.” He kissed you again. “Come here, little man.” Toji opened his arm, allowing Megumi to hug him.

Toji thought he’d never live to see this day. He began losing hope, drowning in his fears and bad choices. When he left, he remembered your cries, carrying that hurt in his heart for years. He only dug himself into a deeper hole trying to get out of it. Trying to protect you and Megs, he did unspeakable things, shit that left him traumatized. The amount of blood on his hands was staggering. But it was all just to have his family back.

That life was well behind him now. It’s been behind him for months. All this he’s been looking for you, jumping through hoops to even get a glimpse of you and Megumi. He wouldn’t have blamed you if you moved on, if you found someone else and replaced him, deciding to leave this hellish place. But you stayed. Despite everything, you stayed.

“You’ve gotten so damn big.” Toji eyes scanned over Megumi. “About as tall as me.” He laughed.

“Yeah, well, I do look exactly like you.” He shrugged, smiling. “I’ve been hearing it my whole life. It’s finally nice to see the original.”

“The original, huh? I ain’t that damn old,” he scoffed.

Seeing them already get along and bicker with each other like it came naturally gave you a warm feeling in your chest. You’ve never seen Megumi’s eyes so full of life, like he found his other half. And in a sense, he did. You did as well. All of you did.

“We have a lot of catching up to do.” Toji ruffled Megumi’s hair. “A lot.”

“I know. But can you promise me one thing?” Megumi asked.

“Of course.” Toji was quick to answer.

“Please, don’t leave me again. I don’t care what it is. Promise me you’ll never leave me, dad.” Megumi nervously began biting the skin off of his bottom lip.

Toji stared at his son. “I promise.”

a/n: a lot of you wanted a part 2 so I made one. I hope it lived up to the expectations tbh cause I wasn’t really sure what y’all wanted to me to write

[bambisspeckles]

Stowaway ✿ Poly Pirate!141 x Reader

*pics for aesthetics only!

Summary: You accidentally sneak onto pirate crew 141's ship CW: Inaccurate depiction of pirates, poly!141, fem!reader, ghost and price are kinda assholes (for right now), soap is well soap, gaz is an angel sent from heaven, reader is held captive (ish), stockholm syndrome core but like in the way beauty and the beast is, no romance yet (sorry, but don't worry it won't really be a slowburn), self-edited! WC: 1.8K

It was a mistake, honestly you should have just stayed put. You have no idea why you thought it'd be a good idea to sneak onto any ship, at all, ever.

You suppose this cruel fate is karma for your actions.

It started in the early hours of the morning, when many passenger ships were docked. You had decided to pack a small bag with your most important belongings and sneak into one of the ships cargo holds. In theory it was a good idea, you figured most of the crew we be pretty occupied tending to passengers needs, therefore your chances of getting caught and thrown into the ocean were slim. It's a shame you the ship you decided to board wasn't a passenger ship.

You should have known, it didn't look remotely like a passenger ship. There weren't any nice amenities, only one small dining room, not nearly enough beds for the amount of people that come to and from your island, and there were too many suspicious looking locked chests. There was a voice inside your head screaming for you to get off the ship but the adrenaline being pumped through your body was too high, and the yearning to escape the hell your home brought to you overruled almost all your sense of logic and reasoning. When you found the cargo hold, you didn't even think twice before making your way inside, quickly scanning your surroundings to find the best place to hide. You decide to hide behind some unmarked crates, figuring they'd be bothered the least. You squeeze your body behind the boxes, maneuvering so all of you can be hidden well.

It feels like you're there for days, realistically you know that's not true, but you're so close to leaving this island and never looking back. No matter how tempted you are to bolt, you keep yourself firmly planted behind the crates. Finally, you hear voices, it doesn't seem like there's very many people and that makes your anxiety sky rocket, but it's much too late to sneak off and try to find another ship to become a stowaway in. Pushing your knees further into your chest, you take a few deep breaths in an attempt to calm your nerves. For hours you hear voices and footsteps above you, but no one seems to have any suspicions. In fact it's been so calm the rocking of the ship has your eyes fluttering shut, you've been fighting sleep but nothing has transpired for so long maybe a few minutes of shut eye won't hurt. As your mind battles between alertness and staying asleep you hear something.

Footsteps. Coming down the steps, right into the cargo hold.

Your heart drops into your stomach and your breath hitches. You squeeze your body into itself in an attempt to make it smaller, one of your hands coming to clasp your mouth shut. The footsteps get louder and louder until you see a large figure standing in the archway. You go rigid as you get a better look at him. He's no average sailor, he's a fucking pirate.

"Great." You think wryly. "If he finds me then I really am dead."

He's moving around some boxes, you're not quite sure why, and for a moment you think he has no clue you're there.

Unfortunately for you, that's where you're wrong.

In the blink of an eye he grabs you from behind your crate wall, holding you by the scruff of your neck like a naughty kitten. The look in his eye is dark, and the rest of his face is covered by a mask, a skull print adorning the fabric. He says nothing, only staring at you for a moment before throwing you over his shoulder and walking back up the steps, presumably to bring you to the rest of the crew.

Oh. you're totally fucked now.

The mans footsteps attract the attention of his crew as he walks across the deck, when he stops walking, he practically throws you onto the ground, forcing you to kneel before three other men.

"Wha' a bonnie thing she is… S' what tha' noise was? Was startin' worry I was finally losin' it." A man, Scottish you think, says as he stares at you. His thumb dragging down the side of your face as a devilish smirk graces his lips.

You flinch under his touch and the Scotsman quickly removes his hand but his touch is soon replaced by another, a man much more imposing than he. Rough hands gripping your face, forcing you to meet his gaze.

"Was wonderin' why it sounded like there was a rat down in the cargo," A dark glint flashes through his eyes, but it's gone as quickly as it appeared. "Now tell me, stowaway, wha' the hell are ya doin' on my ship."

Tears well in your eyes as you struggle against his grip, and you can feel his impatience growing as he waits for you to respond. After another moment, the final man turns to speak to you.

"Captain asked ya a question love, best answer him before he gets angry." His voice is surprisingly gentle, and when you meet his gaze, soft brown eyes stare back at you, eyes filled with pity.

The look in his eye breaks you, and fat tears begin rolling down the apples of your cheeks.

"I'm… I'm sorry!" You choke out your words between sobs, your body taut under the piercing gaze of the Captain.

A beat of silence passes before the Captain of the ship releases you from his grip, your body crumbling into itself.

"I didn't know! I didn't- I don't… I just wanted to leave! I promise I didn't take anything a-and you can drop me off at your next stop, just please don't hurt me…" Your words come out watery, your voice hoarse and snot coming out of your nose, ugly sobbing as these men surround you.

The man with the soft brown eyes crouches down next you, his gentle hand wiping tears off your cheeks.

"You poor thing, you're all outta' sorts. M' sure you didn't mean any harm…" He looks towards his Captain but his head is still angled in your direction. "Go easy on her sir, poor thing is trembling."

The Captain scoffs, his arms folding over his chest as he studies you, his gaze scrutinizing, piercing through you.

"She shoulda' thought of that before sneaking onto my ship." He gives you another once over before ordering you to stand on your feet. You figure it's best to do what he says so you rise from the ground, knees almost buckling under you.

The group of men stare at you for a while, seemingly unsure of what to do with you. After a few moments, a deep voice from behind finally speaks, you turn to look at him, his skull mask making your spine tingle with terror.

"We should just throw er' off the ship, no bloody reason to keep the thing around." You wince at the way he refers to you, objectifying, dehumanizing.

"Now, now, Ghost, nae reason tae make such a hasty decision. The kitten's completely harmless! I say we keep er', it'll be so nice to have a bonnie thing on board." The man, Ghost, scoffs.

"We don' need liabilities layin' around Johnny. Sides' got no use for er'. M' sure Price is inclined to agree with me." Ghost turns his head towards Price, presumably waiting for some type of agreeance on what he said.

Before the Captain can even get a word out, he's interjected.

"M' inclined to agree with Soap- for different reasons," He pauses shooting Soap a look, but he merely shrugs back. "But I agree all the same. I mean look at er' poor thing is terrified, I doubt she came to pillage our goods Captain."

Price sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose as he mulls over his, limited, options. Everyone, including you, waits for him with bated breath. Selfishly, you hope he'll keep you around a bit longer, at least then you'll get a chance to make an escape plan.

Finally, the Captain speaks.

"She can stay, for now. We can keep er' in the cellar until I figure out wha' the hell to do with her." His words carry a tone of finality, a fact that has Ghost scoffing.

"You're jus' pickin' sides cause' Gaz wants to keep er' around." He motions towards the man next to you, bitter venom coming out alongside his words.

Gaz rolls his eyes, blowing out with an irritated sigh.

"Price isn't picking sides, he's doing what's right. Just cause' you don't agree with it doesn't mean that-" Price puts his hand on Gaz's shoulder, interrupting his sentence. A silent way of telling him "settle down."

Gaz relaxes under the Captains touch.

"Gaz, Soap, take er' down to the cellar, we'll keep er' there for now. Ghost, come with me to my quarters." Ghost mumbles something in response, but his words are muffled by his mask, something you're sure he's grateful for at this moment.

You, Soap, and Gaz watch him for a moment as he follows Price like a kicked puppy. When they're finally out of view, Soap and Gaz turn their attention back to you.

"C'mon kitten, yer gonna ave' tae be a bit uncomfortable tonight, the Captain didnae plan for any stowaways.." He chuckles at you playfully, something you'd find much more comforting under different circumstances.

You suddenly feel a hand on your back, the skin a bit rough even through the fabric of your clothes. You whip your head to look behind to see Gaz, his soft brown eyes still filled with that same look of pity. He and Soap begin gently guiding you towards the ships cellar.

"It's alright love, The Captain can be a bit cruel but he won't hurt you. Even pirates have their limits… Besides, I assure you we're not nearly as bad as some of the other pirates out there. We'll get you sorted out in the morning."

You have no reason to trust these men, all you've known is that pirates cause pain and destruction everywhere they go, but the only thing you can do right now is trust them. So, you nod timidly, letting them guide without resistance.

Hopefully you can escape at the next docking place.

[rootspiral]

Agatha All Along deep dive: episode 4 part 3

(Wandavision entries: [1][2][3])

(AAA entries: ep1 [1][2][3][4] ep2 [1][2][3][4] ep3 [1][2][3] ep4 [1][2][3])

Lilia is bickering with Jen in episode 7. she turns around and SEES ALICE, WHO WAS KILLED IN EPISODE 5

alice, don't try to save agatha! but she's whisked ever further back to episode 2 before she can finish the sentence. imagine having the power of communicating with the past but it's never enough to warn them. seeing the dead and talking to them, knowing what's going to come next. and you wonder why she chose exile and solitude.

meanwhile agatha has collected her wits long enough to decide what her short term strategy with rio is gonna be: keep her distracted, isolate her from the others, keep her away from billy. see how she takes a moment to focus and get into character? she knows rio is about to follow her like a moth to a flame

just going on a trip with my best gal pals and a random teen boy, nothing to see here!!!! and agatha knows that rio knows that she's lying. hello, rio is PERFECTLY aware that there's no Road out there capable of magicking her into a glam rock sex den. but maybe, just maybe, agatha can keep her focused on something else. honestly it would be such a waste to not put all that combined cleavage to good use!

there she was, having a chat with sharon down in the dirt, and you guys went and dragged her up. like perfect morons. I love how she brought the flower along and it ends up working really well with the outfit

oh, rio knows. she knows everything.

and agatha SHOOTS UP and GETS TOO CLOSE and FLIRTS. oh my god this bitch. just like she did in episode 1, except now she's more collected and ever more deliberate. flirting is her best weapon of mass distraction against rio. because look, rio might know all her tricks but she's only (very marginally) human! who can blame her if she lets herself be seduced a little bit, just a little bit! for old times' sake! in rio's defense her wife is very hot and she misses her very much, your honor

rio is like, bitch I got you allllll figure out but also lemme gently caress your thigh. to enhance your acting performance. what's a little supportive yes, and between exes

she's sooo hamming it up. compare her face here with the genuine yearning at the end of the episode

oh this is hilarious. the others hear rio's flirting over the PA and panic, but no, girls, enthusing about murder is legit how they talk dirty!! (lol at lilia being like, right in front of my salad???)

"gasp!!!! that's my coVEN you're talking abOUT!!!! I'm not that kiND OF wiTCH anYMOWRE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" the ham! the ham! she might just bring the whole deli cart over at this point

and rio with her lil delighted laugh again. she doesn't get mad for one second, she didn't expect anything else. oh agatha, you silly goose, you're so damaged and so cute

let's recap what this fucker achieved with her latest performance, because it's always fascinating to study what's going on in agatha's ferociously scheming brain. she 1) distracted rio from billy. or at least tried to. 2) hinted at Rio's true nature to the others - who knows, maybe she can manipulate them into allying against her later on? 3) pretended to flirt but also flirted a lil bit forreal because there was a lot of skin showing and the flesh is weak etc etc 4) backpedaled alllllllll the way out when things got too intimate because she's too scared and resentful to get close to rio again. playing with fire as usual. or, as the kids say today, fucking around, about to find out

alice's trial has the best aesthetic fr fr. the 70s font!

I'm not 100% sure bcs it goes by so quickly but I think rio is dancing to the cursed music???

not the turntable!! that shit's vintage!!!!!!!

*brian de palma zoom*

*dramatic pause*

WE'VE BEEN CURSED (I love you patti lupone!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)

INJECT THIS AESTHETIC DIRECTLY INTO MY VEINS. also alice is red, billy and agatha are blue with purple undertones. the colors in this trial seem very deliberate

"she's a tourist." "she's a PSYCHO." look she never gets to just hang out and do fun things anymore, let her be!!

rio and lilia having a little staring contest as she plays with the knife. doing their own cute archnemeses thing

agatha shaking her head at billy and going shhh when he says 'maybe this curse isn't so bad.' like KID will you stop speaking HORRORS into existence?!?

alice standing with her back straight for the first time since like, ever? or since her mom died? did everyone in the family have their own personal demon or did it switch after killing the previous person? or wait, wait, was the curse only like, a metaphor until billy accidentally turned it into a disgusting 1970s animatronic harpy??

I'm convinced rio could see the demon from the beginning. look at her face here, she's the only one who sees both lilia burning and what's causing it

poor lilia must be thinking, burning witches? soooo original and not traumatic at all (lol at patti being a pro at screaming and writhing in pain on the floor. PROFESSIONAL ACTING)

no no no that's the reaping knife careful careful careful careful

alice's spell: expelle hoc malum, expel this evil. (rio when agatha tries it on her later: WHO ARE YOU CALLING EVIL)

lol. lmao, even. (just don't think about how jen has grown seLFISH TO SURVIVE AFTER HAVING TO LIVE POWERLESS AND DEFENSELESS FOR A CENTURY AND HOW SHE BECOMES MORE AND MORE GENEROUS AS SHE SPENDS TIME WITH ALICE AND LILIA)

oh noes my character just had a beast's giant talons perched on her shoulders i should flash the twins real quick so you can see it better

everyone else: EXTREME PANICKING

rio: stops reading her magazine to glance at the disgusting invisible harpy flapping around the room. goes back to the magazine.

and with this I'm off to my extreme friday night (tea and blankie and a book). ciao!

[strawberrykidneystone]

a baroness after my own heart

summary: sevika from house silco has officially entered the marriage market after years of putting it off and she falls in love with the first woman she lays her eyes on

a/n: sevika… mr. darcy hand flex….

tags: not historically accurate, love at first sight, dancing, regency era-ish, me being a sap, drama, gossip, romance, not historically accurate

ao3 version

viscount silco’s ward, jinx, has been in the marriage market for merely a year and has seemed to scare off every man and woman with her odd personality. earl vander’s ward, lady violet, had recently married into house kiramman. it was quite the scandal when it was revealed that jinx and violet were estranged sisters living in different houses, but the excitement died down quickly with the new ball season starting. no doubt that silco’s influence had also stopped the gossip papers from writing about his family.

you were not a duchess by any means, but you had quite a steep dowry that had many suitors show an interest in you, but each one had been just as boring as the last. your mother was not pleased with your efforts and made an ultimatum, you had to get married this year or you would be sent off to live with your aunt in the middle of nowhere, so you were eager to see the fresh meat entering the market this year.

lady mel visited your house this afternoon with a paper in her hand. she was currently being courted by sir jayce, a man of lower social standing than herself, but she had been adamant about marrying for love. of course, the courting had somewhat come to a hold with the recent scandal, but it was sure to start up again as balls exposed more of people's relationships to the public. you had heard a few rumors about him and his lab partner viktor, but they were quickly laid to rest by mel's mother, duchess ambessa, and no one questioned her judgment, ever.

the two of you settled in the drawing room with tea and biscuits, your handmaidens making themselves scarce on the other side of the room to allow the two of you to talk semi-privately.

after taking a sip from her tea, mel brought your attention to the small paper in her hands, "my dear friend, i have just received word that sevika is entering the marriage market this year."

you had to hold yourself back from spitting out your tea. no one had seen lady sevika in quite a while, she was at the side of silco most of the time and when she wasn't she was in the bars down in the village that no other members of high society would be caught dead in. she was a baroness in her own right and had her own estate, but she was known to work closely with the viscount in many aspects since her parents had taken up traveling the world. personally, you had never seen her, but you had heard that she is intimidating as she is beautiful. you thickly swallowed your tea and set your cup down on the saucer, "pray tell, is there a reason why? she has had ample time to enter the market whenever she wanted, why now?"

"there was no reason given, a kitchen maid wrote to me in haste as soon as she heard," mel said with a grin, she always liked to have her fingers in all of the pies, paying off servants for small bits of gossip was included into keep tabs on everyone. you shook your head in disbelief, the whole thing seemed fishy.

"perhaps it's to draw away attention from the scandal of the two sisters," you suggested and cocked your head curiously.

mel waved her hand dismissively and shook her head, "most people have already forgotten about that by now. whatever the reason, it's sure to be an interesting season this year."

you nodded in agreement and took a small bite from one of the sweet biscuits, letting your imagination run wild surrounding the house of silco and vander. you and mel continued to talk about everything under the sun, mostly gossip about other houses and who's getting desperate to not be considered a spinster next year. before you knew it, the sun was almost down and you bid her farewell at the door, her carriage taking her back to her mansion in the hills.

the next week was pure chaos.

picking out fabrics for dresses, trying out hairstyles for this season, pairing accessories with each other, and keeping up with the constant rumor mill. as long as you didn't hear anything about yourself, you were fine with a little gossip here and there. there had been a little talk about how you were getting close to being a thornback*, but you simply ignored them. you were determined to get married this season, even if it killed you.

before you knew it, it was time for the first ball of the season. lady mel's family was hosting of course, with no expense spared for decorating the huge mansion. there were gold decorations everywhere decorating the house with fresh-cut roses intertwined in delicate patterns. the rose bushes that lined the front of the house were lit up with protected candles, the whole house glowing like a sun against the night sky.

exiting your carriage in your custom-fit gown with elbow-length gloves, a curly updo with a headband of pearls in your hair, and a pearl choker to match, you confidently walked into the ball with your family.

with your fan hanging on your wrist and your dance card in its proper case, you immediately walked up close to the dance floor, scanning the crowd. it was mostly filled with faces you had seen before with a few you didn't recognize, but you couldn't help but feel nervous. you were thankful for the gloves on your hands absorbing the sweat that would no doubt be building up on your hands, but you were still hopeful for this evening.

suddenly, the whole room fell silent. you turned your head towards the entrance you just walked through and held back a gasp. there was duchess caitlyn and lady violet arm and arm, with the house of silco, vander, and kiramann following up behind them. they posed a united front together and you had to praise them for their bravery showing up at all. their footsteps echoed throughout the room with the occasional ‘thump’ from silco’s cane. the group paused in front of the ballroom, not unlike two armies about to attack each other. mel quickly snapped at the orchestra to ease the tension and they picked up their playing again, people slowly going back to their conversations and dancing. the big group quickly dispersed, acting casual as if nothing over the summer had happened. duchess caitlyn and lady- duchess violet took to the dance floor and waltzed with each other, a genuine aura of love surrounding them as they glided around the circle of people even though people were very obviously keeping their distance.

you walked through the crowd and stayed on the edges, ending up close to the refreshment table. god it was going to be a long evening, but thankfully not an uneventful one.

it’s not that you were uninterested in marriage, you just hadn’t found the right person. you were resolute about marrying for love, which annoyed your family to no end as they had all married for wealth and status. you had hoped to talk to mel for a bit, but she was already busy waltzing around the dance floor with jayce, much to lady ambessa’s dismay. looking over to the side of the room, you saw jinx and sir ekko passionately talking about some sort of trinket in her hands. a fond smile graced your lips, it’s as if the two never grew up, still up to their usual antics.

just as you were about to chalk this night up to simply standing on the outside as just another wallflower and observing other couples, somebody caught your eye.

a tall woman with a short and straight haircut that sharply framed her face, her grey eyes lighting up against her darker features. she had the most endearing wide nose you had ever seen and full lips to match. she wore a beautifully tailored burgundy suit complete with a black vest and a white undershirt, tan pants, and a black cravat adorned around her neck to complete the look. she was simultaneously the most beautiful and handsome woman you had ever laid your eyes on.

and she was staring right back at you.

the rest of the world seemed to blur away and your heartbeat picked up, you had to convince yourself that you weren’t having an aneurism in the middle of the ball or somehow daydreaming of this perfect woman. the room seemed to light up as if the world had been dimmed until this moment, you could see nothing else but her. the two of you wandered intently toward each other as if in a trance, never breaking eye contact as you made your way through the crowd.

before you knew it you were face to face with her, both of you awestruck by the feeling that your hearts had been searching for each other all your lives, two halves that were now whole. sevika cleared her throat and slightly bowed her upper body, keeping her eyes on yours as she held out her left hand with the palm up, “may i have this dance?”

your voice was caught in your throat, all you could do was nod and placed your hand in hers. as soon as you laid your hand in her warm palm, you knew that you never wanted to let go.

she led you to the dance floor and people were already starting to whisper about the two of you as they parted to let the two of you onto the floor, but you couldn't care less in this moment. the two of you smoothly got into a classical waltz position with her leading, her left hand never leaving yours as she held your interconnected hands up and placed her other hand on your waist. you rested your arm on top of hers and followed her lead in the dance, absolutely enthralled with your partner as you twirled around the dance floor. it was like the two of you were floating on air above everything else, dancing in your own little world where it's only you and her.

all too soon, the song ended and suddenly you were back in a crowded ballroom standing in front of the woman you danced with, whose name you didn't even know. the two of you bowed to one another and exited the floor together. reluctantly letting go of her hand, you clasped your hands in front of your dress formally and smiled up at her, "thank you for the dance miss?..."

"sevika, baroness sevika," she said in a smooth deep voice with a bow of her head.

you held back a gasp and quickly introduced yourself, curtseying while holding your skirt.

the two of you quickly got lost in conversation as if you had known her all of your life, having more in common with her than anyone else you had ever met in your life. sadly, the evening was coming to a close and the last dance of the night was announced. sevika gave you a knowing look and you nodded, the two of you joining the other couples for one last dance. she was such an easy dance partner to follow and you couldn't help but feel safe in her arms. losing yourself completely in the dance, the music ended far too soon for your liking. you wished you could've stayed here and danced with sevika all night.

alas, each of your houses were starting to depart and sevika looked down at you with the biggest puppy eyes, holding both of your hands in hers, " would it be too soon if i called upon you tomorrow?"

you giggled and squeezed her hands in yours, "i shall simply die if i do not see you tomorrow."

sevika's face lit up and she brought your hands up to her mouth, kissing your knuckles, "then tomorrow it shall be."

she slowly walked backward, holding your hands as long as she could until she finally had to let go, silco calling to her from their carriages. she stumbled slightly going down the stairs which made you giggle until your mother sharply called your name. you quickly joined your own house once again, giddy in anticipation for the next day.

a/n: i tried to leave reader's outfit as ambiguous as possible so you could imagine your own outfit but FUCK i love pearls <3

part 2, this scene and backstory from sevika's perspective?

*thornback: single woman over the age of 25

taglist: @maneskinwh0re @archangeldyke-all

[lisbeth-kk]

Sherlock fandom.

Lacking Data

Collecting data and seeking insight in everything significant to his work, has always been Sherlock’s highest priority. And he’s been quite successful in his endeavours too. But when it came to personal matters regarding himself and romanticism, he declared defeat. Which he didn’t bother to linger on. Until one day, when he met a man, most people thought of as ordinary, even boring.

Sherlock encountered Mike Stamford one of the last days of January. When Mike asked how he’d been, Sherlock told him he was searching for someone.

“Dead or alive?” Mike asked with a grin.

Sherlock rolled his eyes exasperated.

“I could use a flatmate. Preferably a living one,” he retorted dryly. “But…”

He trailed off, and Mike prompted him to complete the sentence.

“As you know, I’m no easy man to be around. I can’t think of anyone wanting to share quarters with me.”

“Oh, don’t say that, Sherlock. I’m sure there’s someone out there that match your criteria,” the doctor assured him.

Sherlock just scoffed and turned back to the microscope.

***

The experiment proved to be fruitless, so he sent Molly to get him coffee. When the door opened, far too soon for it to be her, Sherlock startled. He was not prepared to see Mike again, but what made the detective almost lose it, was the man Mike brought with him.

Ex-military. Doctor. Psychosomatic limp. Deployed somewhere warm.

Slowly, Sherlock approached Mike’s old friend from medical school, John Watson.

His face was open, trusting. He didn’t hesitate when Sherlock said he needed a phone, which he really didn’t.

“Here. Take mine.”

“Afghanistan or Iraq?”

Sherlock didn’t need to seek insight. All of it was clear as day to him. Served on a silver plate. The phone told him the rest of the story. 

Granted, he’d been wrong about Harry, which John told him about the day after.

“There’s always something,” Sherlock muttered under his breath.

John just looked puzzled, but mostly awestruck. Not one word of mockery, distaste, or anger. Just: Amazing. Extraordinary. Brilliant.

When Sherlock told him what people normally said when he deduced them to shreds, John frowned and clenched his fist, the one not holding his cane.

It seemed like he was ready to punch the people who told Sherlock to piss off.

“Where have you been all my life?” he wanted to ask the remarkable man, but Sherlock was too afraid, so he stayed aloof, playing the sociopath he claimed to be.

***

Despite Angelo’s rather boisterous appearance, Sherlock always felt a calmness fall over him when he was around the man. He wanted to show John off to his Italian friend, and simultaneously letting John see a different side of Sherlock. It was a risk to let his guard down, but if his calculations were correct, the outcome would be glorious.

So, instead of biting John’s head off when he subtlety asked about Sherlock’s romantic preferences, he answered truthfully.

“Yes, John. I am unattached. Just like you.”

Sherlock couldn’t take his eyes off John’s tongue. It wet his lips continuously during the meal, and Sherlock wanted to taste it. The lack of data of how it would feel to kiss John and to be invaded by that rosy piece of flesh, almost drove the great detective mad. 

***

The chase through the city had never been so intoxicating and thrilling. John was right behind him, his cane safely taken care of by Angelo.

“Welcome to London.”

The American passenger in the taxi couldn’t believe the politeness of the British police, and Sherlock felt dizzy just listening to John’s incredulous laughter at the insane encounter.

They were breathless and giddy when they locked the black door of 221 Baker Street behind them.

“That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever done!”

“And you invaded Afghanistan.”

A knock on the door. Sherlock gestured for John to open.

“It’s for you.”

John’s astounded look when he returned with his cane, brought by Angelo, made Sherlock’s stomach do a somersault.

“How?” John said and shook his head in disbelief.

He leant the cane on the wall and approached Sherlock carefully. When he stood toe-to-toe with him, John took a hold of Sherlock’s upper arms.

“You,” he said softly. “Do you even know what you’ve done to me, for me? How am I ever going to repay you, thanking you for letting the sun into my life again? For making me want to live.”

Sherlock just stared down at John, unable to grasp what he meant. He’d done nothing out of the ordinary. Well, to be fair, the idea of visiting Angelo’s had been a whim. Not at all planned beforehand. He was a bit perplexed that something impulsive could make such an impact. 

When Sherlock asked about that, after their fifteenth kiss, John told him he was wrong.

“It wasn’t dinner, Sherlock. I’ve been in that situation lots of times. It was the chase that made me feel alive and useful. Not that dinner wasn’t lovely, because it absolutely was, but it seems that running after you is one of those things I’m suddenly addicted to. Just as that sinful mouth of yours.”

And with that, their sixteenth kiss was a fact.

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

@flashfictionfridayofficial @totallysilvergirl @keirgreeneyes @calaisreno @helloliriels

@raina-at @meetinginsamarra @safedistancefrombeingsmart @gregorovitch-adler @topsyturvy-turtely

@jolieblack @peanitbear @phoenix27884 @bs2sjh @brandiwein1982

@meandhisjohn @a-victorian-girl @221beloved @ninasnakie @shy-bi-letsfuckingdie

@7-percent @lhrinchelsea @missdeliadilisblog @salmonsown @oetkb12

@jawnscoffee @gay-ass-bitch @acumberlockedgirl @willamholmeswatson @whatnext2020

@mydogwatson @redmondcollege @thegildedbee @ilovegayangels @elizabethhood

@xmengal03 @riversong912 @givemesherbet-blog-blog @couldbecannibal @2old2b-fangirl

@dw91165 @jonkwatson

(Tell me if you want to be tagged or removed from the list)

[runningracingdancingchasing]

They hadn't a moment to lose. The horse -- his name turned out to be Maximus, according to his tack -- didn't even hesitate to allow her to mount. Rapunzel had never ridden a horse before, but either it was very easy, or this horse knew how to treat a new rider.

They raced together, Rapunzel on Maximus, Pascal on Rapunzel, and the crow soaring overhead, back to the kingdom, the magnificent gown billowing behind her as the horse's hooves pounded through the trees so quickly it made her eyes water. Horseshoes threw sparks as he tore across the bridge just before dawn, paying no heed to the citizens who jumped out of his way as he galloped up the hill to the palace at the top.

"No, no, he's being executed right now! I have to stop it!" Rapunzel begged.

But this strange horse was insistent, and carried her not to the prison or the courtyard where Audwin's life hung in the balance, but directly into the throne room where a woman -- the woman from the mosaic, the queen, Rapunzel's real mother -- sat alone.

"Maximus?" she asked with confusion, getting to her feet as the horse burst in.

Rapunzel refused to dismount. That is, until she really looked at the woman standing there. She'd seen that face before, or one very much like it, at about half the age, looking back at her from the mirror. She was suddenly aware that her hair was an absolute mess from being unceremoniously cut, and she made an attempt to smooth it down as she slid off the horse's back.

The queen was starting at her with a look of absolute wonder and disbelief.

"Who are you, my dear?"

Her voice was kind and gentle, the softest woman's voice Rapunzel had ever heard. She suddenly realized she was shaking.

"Rapunzel," she answered meekly, and her answer brought tears to the woman's familiar eyes.

"Is it really you?" the queen breathed, and took a step forward, then another. "I thought you were dead...!"

Rapunzel shook her head rapidly, and was struck with the unfamiliar feeling of the short ends of her hair slapping her ears and cheeks. "No," she answered, and found out she was crying, too, by the sound of her own voice. "I was kidnapped by a woman named Gothel. She's dead now." Her voice caught, but what she had to say was far too important for her to allow herself to break down now. "But you have to stay the execution! Audwin didn't kidnap me! He never even hurt me! Please! Don't let him die, too!"

Whether or not Queen Arianna truly believe this girl, it was a good enough ploy to be worth looking into. She looked in the direction of the prison, though there was no seeing it from here, then said, "Follow me," and lifted her skirts to hurry down the hall.

Rapunzel remounted on Maximus, who not only followed the queen through the palace, but offered her a ride once he caught up. She accepted, and the most unlikely sight tore through he halls and out to the prison, hooves pounding and two brunette women holding tightly.

Before they even reached the courtyard, Rapunzel was calling, "Wait! Please, wait!"

Maximus kicked the gates open and whinnied like a creature from hell to get everyone's attention, just as Arianna leapt from his back with a cry of, "Stop! Executioner, stay your hand!"

A shocked murmur ran through the crowd and Rapunzel once again slid from the horse's back and ran up to the guillotine stage. "Audwin!" she called, tripping over her skirt as she clambered up the steps. "Audwin, I'm here!"

On the last step, she tread on too much skirt and went down, tripping entirely. Her knees hit the wooden stage with a dull thud, and she yelped in pain and surprise.

The amount of charades it had taken for a crow to convince a horse to follow it was astounding. Audwin's crow had resorted to placing sticks on the ground and shaping them like familiar iconography to get across at least a simple message.

Princess. In. Danger.

The gallant guard horse couldn't deny the draw of saving the day, even if he had to rush in without backup. The bird led the white steed at a brisk pace to get to the tower with barely enough time to spare before its master was to be executed. Hopefully now that they had the princess, they could get back in time to stop what was about to happen...

-

"Alright, magic man. Time to go."

Audwin didn't sit up as his cell was opened. He hadn't moved an inch since it had been shut the last time. He hadn't been sleeping. His eyes were fixed on the sad little window in his cell as he watched the sun rise and counted the seconds left in his life and wondered just what they had in mind to deal with him.

The guards had to drag him to his feet to pull him from his cell. Maybe he was being dead weight on purpose as one last act of defiance. Either way he didn't dignify them with words, as if to mock them for gagging him by making no noise. They held him in the hall and moved his wrists to the front of him before rebinding them. He knitted his brow together at this but one smaller, meeker guard muttered it was that to make what was about to happen less... stressful for him.

Imagine that. Caring for the mental well being of a man you're about to kill. Why not just blindfold him while they were at it? This kingdom was so twisted. Well, at least he would die knowing he had been right to stay away from all this. Humans were exactly as terrible as he had come to believe. This was the reward he got for trying to help someone.

"If it helps, you're one of the lucky ones," The man said, refusing to make eye contact with Audwin as he moved to hold his arm and guide him further down the hall toward the execution stage. Looking at the man, this was one of the two Audwin had put to sleep hours ago. The other one, with the mustache, must be still asleep. "It'll be fast."

The doors at the end of the hall opened up to the courtyard and Audwin blinked as his eyes were assaulted by the first light of morning rising. When his eyes adjusted, his blood ran cold. There were a dozen Coronan soldiers armed with crossbows trained on him. Ready to loose their bolts if he so much as flinched the wrong way. The worst, though, was behind them. They hadn't readied the gallows.. What stood ready, waiting for him, was a blade. The guillotine.

Bad enough they were going to execute him for a crime he didn't commit.... He was going to die on his knees.

"Easy does it, wizard. Keep moving."

The guard was pulling on Audwin and he hadn't realized he was refusing to move a moment. A cold had gripped his heart and for the first time since he was a cowering boy in a tower Audwin felt... fear. But still he walked. His bare feet carrying him across the courtyard and up those awful wooden steps to the stage. A stage... Of course they would make a spectacle of this. When he was turned to face outward, it only got worse. There was a tall iron gate where citizens of the kingdom huddled for a look at the evil owl sorcerer. High above the king stood, his wife absent. At least someone didn't have the stomach to watch a man die.

A cardinal approached to read Audwin his last rites in a mockery of compassion.

"Does the accused have anything he would like to confess before his execution?"

Audwin let his head fall back and closed his eyes thoughtfully. He lulled his neck to the side and nodded to the captain of the guard who stood nearby. The man huffed and approached to remove the gag.

"Ah... Thank you," Audwin groaned, stretching his jaw and licking his very dry lips. Everyone seemed to take a half step forward in anticipation of what he may do or say as he looked back up at the king and made direct eye contact. "Your guards look ridiculous and you should be ashamed of yourself for letting them go outside like this."

With an angry growl at Audwin's impertinence, the captain kicked the backs of his legs to drop the wizard onto his knees. Audwin laughed all the way down, even as his head was forced down onto the block. However, even as he wore a twisted smile, something he wasn't familiar with, stung at his eyes knowing this had all been for nothing. He was going to die and Rapunzel... Poor Rapunzel. He'd failed her spectacularly.

As the trumpets began to play a mockery of a funeral march, Audwin just closed his eyes and waited.

Goodbye, Rapunzel.

[ponyosmom35]

better off

simon ghost riley x reader

synopsis: simon and soap discuss their plan to keep reader safe from their enemies.

Link to master list:https://www.tumblr.com/ponyosmom35/733401347573088256/simon-ghost-riley?source=share

Soap set down the phone and looked at Simon, his expression a mix of exasperation and sadness. "Happy now?" he asked, his tone sharp but edged with concern.

Simon didn't respond immediately. He stood still, his face as unreadable as ever. His fingers flexed at his sides as if trying to find something to hold on to. After a moment, he let out a slow, deliberate breath and looked up.

"Yeah," Simon said, his voice flat. "I'm ecstatic."

Soap shook his head, pacing the room. "I don't understand why you can't just go home, get her out of there, and put her somewhere safe while we finish this."

Simon's jaw tightened, his eyes darting to the floor as if it held all the answers. "It's not that simple, Soap. If they catch even a whisper of me going near her, they'll know. And if they know, she's dead." His voice was strained, as though each word was a weight he could barely carry. "Right now, the safest thing for her is to think I'm gone."

Soap stopped pacing, turning to face him. "So what's your plan, then? Once she gets here, we just pick her up and take her to the safehouse? She's gonna freak out, Simon. And when she finds out you're alive, she's gonna bloody kill all of us. She'll never forgive you."

Simon's shoulders sagged slightly, the faintest crack in his stoic demeanor. "I know," he said, his voice quiet. "I know." He exhaled sharply, straightening his posture as if to shake off the weight of his admission. "But what choice do we have, Johnny? It's her life or mine. And I'll be damned if I let her die because of me."

Soap crossed his arms, his brow furrowed. "So, you think sending her on a 'vacation' is safer? Mate, this is fifty shades of fucked up."

Simon's eyes narrowed, his tone cutting. "Watch it, mate. I know it's not a perfect plan. But it's the best I've got right now. As long as she's in the dark and keeps moving, she's safe."

"And if Makarov gets wind she's in the country?" Soap's voice dropped, the gravity of the situation pressing between them.

Simon's voice dropped even lower, cold and dangerous. "If Makarov spots her, I'll bring her in myself. And I'll rip apart every bastard in his crew before I let him touch her."

The finality in Simon's tone ended the conversation. Without another word, he walked to his room, the door closing behind him with a resounding thud. He leaned against the wall, his head hanging low. The weight of it all—her absence, her safety, the lie he was forcing her to live—crushed him.

He clenched his fists, the guilt and desperation bubbling to the surface. With a sharp exhale, he slammed his fist into the wall, the pain radiating through his knuckles barely a fraction of what he felt inside. He stood there, breathing heavily, trying to push it all back down.

He missed her more than he thought possible. Every second apart felt like a fresh wound, a new reminder of what he'd given up to keep her alive.

Later that night, sleep found him, but it offered no relief. His dreams turned into a nightmare—her, standing in front of him, her eyes wide with fear. Makarov's men surrounded her, guns raised. Simon tried to move, to grab her, but he was frozen, powerless as the worst unfolded before his eyes. The gunshot rang out, and her body crumpled to the ground.

He woke with a start, gasping for air, his chest heaving as sweat soaked through his shirt. He pressed his hands to his face, the image of her lifeless body burned into his mind.

The rest of the night passed in restless silence. By dawn, Simon was in the gym, punishing his body in a futile attempt to quiet his mind. When his muscles screamed for mercy, he retreated to his office, staring at the live feed from the security camera outside her house.

The sight of her home brought him no comfort. He told himself it was to ensure she was safe, but deep down, he knew it was because he couldn't go a day without feeling connected to her.

As he watched the screen, he whispered to himself, his voice barely audible over the hum of the equipment. "I'll fix this. I'll make it right. And then… I'll stay out of her life for good."

But even as he said the words, the thought of never seeing her again felt like the cruelest punishment of all.

[rebelliousstories]

Love Me Cancerously

Relationship: Remy LeBeau/Gambit x Reader

Fandom: X-Men

Request: Yes by Anon

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Dark Themes, Mentions of Killing, Death, and Poison

Word Count: 1,449

Main Masterlist: Here

X-Men Masterlist: Here

Part One: Love Me Dead

Summary: According to FBI statistics, the chances of two serial killers meeting is just about, in all intents and purposes, impossible. No reason that has been brought up.

Ever since that fateful night in New Orleans, Remy LeBeau was a bit embarrassed to admit that he was absolutely start struck by the woman he had met. That was not an easy thing to do either. He had been around, met hundreds of men and women. And yet, none managed to capture his attention like her.

Every night he was prowling the streets for his next victim, he was thinking about her. Every body he dropped, all he could think of was where she wanted to go for their dinner date the next evening. Gambit snagged a ring off of the body of some woman that was a proud anti-mutant activist, watching as it glittered in the light. She would like this. It matched her style.

“Remy!” Her cheerful tone broke him from his thoughts. Pushing off of the wall that he had been resting on, the man caught her with sturdy arms that picked her up and spun her around. Gambit was rewarded with her smile and laughter before he set her down.

“My, my, my, chere. You look even more beautiful each and every day. Da Gambit don’ know how he got so lucky,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her awaiting lips. Cherry flavoring transferred to his lips as they parted, that he happily licked off of his lips.

“You’re partial, Remy. Now, where are we going tonight? You promised good food and dancing.” The couple took off down the road towards Bourbon Street. It was a cheesy place to go, but they still had some of the best nightlife anywhere in the world.

“You jus’ gon’ have t’ wait ‘n see, petite.” His finger booped her nose before slinging that arm around her waist as they walked.

The small talk they made along the way was passing the time, but making it very difficult for Remy to focus on getting them to their destination. All he wanted to do was to take her to the nearest alleyway and kiss her senseless. But he did promise a fun night. His appetite could wait for a little while.

Although, when they finally got to the lounge, his mood drastically shifted. A man that he had his eyes on was with a lady near the entrance. This lady, girl really, looked too young to be there in that part of town at that time of night. She held her face and spine straight, but there was an inklings of fear hidden underneath her mask. Just when he wanted to enjoy his night out with his lady, of course, something had to come along and ruin it.

Gambit kept his eyes sharp the entire time they were inside. When he got their drinks, his hand rested on her lower back, but his gaze followed the man he had already deemed his next target. If she noticed, she did not call attention to it. Frankly, Remy did not whether or not this made him upset. Did she just not care enough to notice his distant nature? Or is she just being kind and hoping he pulls himself out of the funk he had found himself in?

Either way, Remy still found himself taking his moment of solitude to slip away. He would be back in time so that she did not think he had ditched her. But he needed to get this man off of the streets while he could. So while his date was in the bathroom, Gambit made his way to the exit door nearby to step back out into the shadows he played so well with. However, what he saw out there was not what he had expected.

His lady was pressed against a wall with that anti-mutant piece of-

Did that body just fall?

Now, Remy was confused far more than he was angry about seeing her in a passionate lip lock with the man. As he looked towards the fallen sack of bones, his feet carried him closer to the scene. She squeaked when footsteps tore her from her stupor.

“Remy,” came a breathy plea. What she was pleading for, no one quite knew exactly. “Please, it’s not what it looks like. I promise.”

But he said nothing. Once he was over the body, he saw the protruding veins of his former target extending from his lips. Bloodshot eyes and a sickly pallor overcame him in his still, eternal rest.

“Chere, you are somethin’ else.” Gambit stood once more, and locked upon the woman who was terrified as to what was going to happen now. “Oh, how I have longed for someone like you all my life.”

It was her turn to be confused. A cute tilt to her head enhanced the doe eyed gaze on her face. Her lips, no longer coated in that cherry lipgloss that he loved, were being worked between her teeth anxiously. She was so dumbfounded by his reaction to her actions, that she only could muster a quiet, “huh?”

“Mon petite, you have just made me a very happy man.” His hands rested on her hips once Remy had stepped over the body. When he tried to kiss her though, she gently pushed him away as she turned her head.

“I have to clean my lips before you can kiss me.”

“Well, dat is definitely somethin’ da Gambit can help with,” he said with a smirk.

“No, no. Not because of that. The tropane alkaloids I produce will kill you if I kiss you. Please, just… trust me.” Her explanation caused Remy to pause long enough that she could at least wipe her lips with a napkin from her pocket. The couple stood there once more, this time, in silence. But she was still looking towards the entrance of the alleyway, almost like she was wanting to escape the situation.

“Will you tell me somethin’, chere,” her eyes peered into his from beneath her lashes, “why’d ya kill him?”

There was a full couple of minutes before she decided to speak. And when she did, it was a nearly unintelligible whisper.

“I was afraid to go to school when I was young because of people like him. Never knew which normal person was going to be okay with me, or who was going to make my life a living hell. Besides, that girl he had was just fifteen. She’s on her way back home in a cop car right now.”

“I really wanna kiss ya right now, mon amour.” His smile was so broad, she feared it was going to break him in half.

“You and I are far more alike than we think,” and his hand pulled a card from his pocket. Sending it up into the sky, the magenta charged playing card exploded into a beautiful display of lights and paper. Her startled squeal escaped into the air as Gambit held her close. Turning back, the mutant saw his lover’s eyes sparkle in the dim light.

“You’re like me.” Her words were full of admiration.

“Yeah. Ya know, I was gonna wait t’ give ya this. But Imma just give it to ya now.”

Remy fumbled just a bit as he tried to retrieve his present from his pocket. A small drawstring bag now rested in his hands. He opened it and fished out the small gold-banded ring that was kept safe from the bag.

“Oh, Gambit! That is so gorgeous.” She gushed as she held out her hand in acceptance of this ring. Neither did she ask him, nor did she even think about where he had gotten it. It did not matter. It was now hers.

“A beautiful jewel, for my most precious bijou.” Without getting anywhere near her lips, Remy’s hands cupped her face and pressed a sweet kiss to her forehead.

“Now, would ya like to finish our night here, or continue on t’ somethin’ else t’ do together?” The man teased, trailing a finger just over the surface of her lips without getting any poison on himself. She looked down at the dead body below, looked up at her fellow mutant boyfriend, and smirked just like him.

“I’m gonna go clean my lips and then we’ll see how much fun we can get into tonight, Gambit.”

The way that she said his name, while trailing her hand down his body to his belt, and back up his chest, before leaving to go back inside; it drove Remy LeBeau absolutely insane. Following after her, he realized just how involved he was with her now. She was going to be his partner in crime. His ride or die. They would go out together, and no one was going to take her from him.

[a-pretty-nerd]

Choose Me

Viktor x afab!fem!reader

Chapter 9

Summary: You are "salvageable."

Chapter 8

Here is a link to the updated Masterlist of the series.

Warnings: VIEWER DISCRESSION IS ADVISED! Some real Frankestien shit this chapter. Descriptions of a corpse, violence, gore, reanimation. You mean science went wrong, again!? Gasp! No! You ever just wanna go apeshit?

A/N: I've been really looking forward to writing this chapter because it was very important to me. This fanfiction has been a lead up to this and the following chapters. I'm sorry it took so long, I was going through it. But I hope you guys enjoy this addition.

"Salvageable..." Viktor spoke in disgust, "you call your own child...Salvageable?" He spat at your father. He had pulled himself up to lean on his worktable, the morning paper clutched to his chest in one hand. He glared at the man who stood before. His stomach turning with the rage of a hurricane.

"I was lucky she died on my property otherwise it would have been far more difficult to pass the fake off to the authorities. The blunt-force trauma she suffered in her fall can be fixed with some simple iron work."

"I don't believe what I am hearing..."

"You are not the only man of scientific genius in Piltover. My team and I are confident that with the help of hextech we could-"

"You and your team of lunatics are mistaken!" Viktor shouted, his fingers clutching the newspaper he pressed to his chest as he supported himself with the other.

"You are speaking to an investor, son! I suggest you watch your tone with me!" He threatened. Viktor shook his head.

"I suggest you leave, immediately." He turned his back only for your father to swiftly approach him. He grabbed his shoulder and wrenched Viktor back to face him.

"I don't think you understand what I'm saying. You have a chance to make things right here." His fingers dug into Viktor's shoulders. "We could perform the ultimate miracle. Don't you see? You could bring her back to life..." Your father's voice became soft and encouraging. Viktor paused. He thought for a moment. Could it be? Did he really have what it took to bring you back from the dead? All his trials, all his failed experiments just to cure himself. Could it really work? His curiosity was getting the better of him. When Viktor didn't answer your father, he just patted him on the shoulder. "Think it over, son. I'll see you at the funeral."

Viktor did not attend the funeral. He found himself trapped amongst his work, trying to understand what your father meant. What he had done to convince himself that hextech could reanimate a dead body. As far as Viktor was concerned, it was impossible. He couldn't even begin to solve the issue of keeping his subjects from rotting. So how could it bring anyone back from the dead?

Jayce went to your funeral in Viktor's place. He mourned you the way a friend should. Standing tall in his suit with a frown and a few well-intentioned tears as "your" casket passed by him. He said a small prayer to the body that laid in your place. He found himself frustrated by the whole thing. He watched as familiar faces young and old cried for their loss. You had drawn an impressive crowd and yet amongst them Viktor was absent. By the end, Jayce received a telegram informing him that Viktor was being held by police for breaching the blockade Jayce had enforced just days prior.

Viktor sat and watched as Police forces held back an angry mob of furious Undercity residents. He coughed into a handkerchief as his mind swirled with intense emotion and fear. Guilt making his body feel heavier than usual.

"Jayce, what is this?"

"Do you have any idea how this looks? I order a blockade and my own partner violates it!?" He hissed at him as he approached.

"You, ordered this? Why?"

"There are people down there hell bent on destroying us. What were you doing down there!?"

"I was consulting someone about..." He paused, "about our quandary. I told you I knew someone."

"Well you didn't say they were from the Undercity!"

"What difference does that make?"

"What difference- They're dangerous!" Viktor's eyes narrowed at Jayce.

"I'M from the Undercity." He reminded him with a cold gaze as he got up, smacking Jayce's hand away as he tried to help him up.

"You're right. I'm sorry. I've just...had a lot on my plate and today...I...well, was your friend able to help?" Viktor considered Jayce's question for a moment.

"No. No he said nature was resistant to this sort of...tampering." Viktor lied as a vile of curated shimmer sat patiently in his pocket.

"We'll keep at it then...You uh...you missed the funeral."

"I know." Viktor nodded.

"You should have been there." Jayce told him softly as they walked back together. Viktor shuffling along side as he shook his head.

"No. No I don't think I should."

"Look, I know how close you were. You can't just ignore this. Who cares what her shitty father thinks, you had every right to be there. To...to mourn that loss." Viktor gritted his teeth as Jayce smoke. He knew Jayce had very little idea what the reality of the situation was, and his previous insult and disregard was beginning to grate on Viktor's nerves.

Behind them the crowd shouted as a flaming bottle was thrown and crashed on the path behind them. They watched for a moment before Viktor spoke.

"I have work to do." Viktor dismissed him through his teeth, trying to keep his composure. Jayce couldn't believe Viktor could be so cold and unfeeling. He watched Viktor leave as more storm clouds began to roll in from above.

What does it feel like to be dead? You might say there is a form of release. Floating in weightless nothing as consciousness slowly erodes. Perhaps that wasn't death. Merely the in-between. The darkness you wade through like when you're close to falling asleep. The voices you heard sometimes sounded familiar. Sometimes a word or two said by voices you recognized but couldn't identify. If this wasn't death, what was it? Where were you?

Sometimes there was music. Yes, music. Violin, piano, flute. A voice singing along with muddled words. Memories, perhaps.

Viktor was escorted in by your father's staff. He had doubled the security, doubled the efforts. Viktor's eyes inspected every inch of the house as he was brought up to the attic. For the first time he saw the home you grew up in. The oddly sterile and formal home your mother made and your father maintained.

Viktor's stomach tossed and turned as he followed your father's hulking and disheveled being into the attic. His breath caught in his throat. He froze at the sight of the room. The intricate machinery, the crudely made controls, the hextech inspired work. Viktor was disgusted. His first inclination was to get away, to run. But the guards behind him kept him there. His frightened golden eyes flashed over the table in the center of the room. His heart sank. Thunder and lightening crackled outside as the yellow lights cascaded down.

"The storm is upon is, sir. We are ready to begin." The mad doctor said, wearing bandages from wounds you gave him a few nights ago. Your father nods and thanks the man as they begin their preparations. The old man turns to Viktor with sad, tired eyes.

"I'm sure as a man of science you're curious to know the procedure when it comes to these things."

"These things?" Viktor asked firmly, fighting back the urge to lay into the old man. He nodded with a somber expression. He pointed towards the table in the center of the room. Draped in a cloth, the shell of yourself lay.

"Unfortunately, she's been a bit more scuffed up than other subjects." He hears your father's voice as the doctor slowly removes the cloth. Revealing your body. Viktor's heart stops for a moment as his eyes adjust to the sight. It's your body, but it's not you. You aren't there. Your head is partially shaven and metal disks have been used to patch up your broken skull. Down your middle is a massive autopsy-like cut that has been carefully sewn back together. "So we had to improvise. We repaired her broken bones with hearty metals that will continue to heal with time. We were lucky her organs were mostly unharmed. It made the removal of some easier."

"Removal?" Viktor asked curiously. Your father nodded.

"We had to remove a kidney which had be pierced by a broken bone as well as her uterus. If we let the embryo fester any longer it would have rotted her from the inside out, and then we would have nothing. Once decomposition sets in, they're lost to us." Viktor tries to process his words. He tries to process everything, but some words stick to him and suck out all his attention and energy. He blinks a few times before looking up at the old cowboy. One word stands out in particular.

"Embryo?" His voice is low and soft, as if he's afraid to say the word at all. Your father's face turns deceptively sympathetic.

"Did she not tell you?" He asks abruptly. Viktor's brows furrow as his eyes narrow at him in confusion.

"She was..."

"Yes, son. I'm afraid so." Your father straightened his posture as he walked past Viktor. He turned his attention to the machinery, checking wiring and tubing and calculations. "But the time to worry about that has passed. We can still save her."

The storm crashes above them. Switches are flipped as the air becomes electric. Viktor can feel little static shocks as he holds his crutch close. Leaning on it as the sudden pressure in the air forces him into a coughing fit. He coughs blood into his handkerchief as the machines around them vibrate to life. The roof is opened and the cold night air floods the room. Viktor looks up to watch your father approach your body. In his hands are the unmistakable hex crystals Viktor and Jayce supplied. The very thing you gave your life to stop.

He watches in frozen horror as the mournful man places the crystals in your empty eye sockets. While the doctor prepares a syringe. The purple liquid sparkles brightly. A deep purple that leans more blue than red. Viktor recognizes it. Shimmer. No doubt something that has been engineered by the great Mr.Y/L/N himself. How is he so confident that this will work? How does he know? What other subjects have there been?

The shimmer is injected into your hollow veins, intermingling with your still blood. It pushes through, forcing blood and shimmer through you as your shell lays there, waiting. The men stand back, their eyes leaving you to look up to the storm above. Your father backs away to stand firmly by a lever. He looks at Viktor.

"You might want to brace yourself, son." His voice demands. Viktor's eyes frantically dart between him and your body, until the flash of lightening from above distracts him.

"All hands stand by!" The doctor shouts formally. As if he's done this a thousand times. "Ready!" All eyes stare up at at clouds above as the wind blows through the room. Viktor rests himself against a control panel as he watches with sick curiousity. Wide, watering eyes observing every movement. He watches as several rods of metal fight against the harsh storm winds. Reaching out for a chance that lightening will strike. As if sent by the gods themselves, lightning stretches across the sky like the veins of an electric beast. They flash and then suddenly a blinding light strikes upon them. Without hesitation your father switches the lever and electricity is funneled through wires and tubes.

Sparks pop wildly into the room as they try to sheild their eyes with goggles and arms. Viktor hunches over to cover his face as the machine's vibrations turn to uneasy rattling. Your body jerks wildly as the energy is funneled into you.

You begin to shake violently. Crashing down to earth as the concept of feeling returns. Your body clattering against the metal table while your consciousness is pulled back. Pain. Nothing put pain. The nothingness gave way to feelings. Physical. Your mouth opens as air is pushed out of your lungs. Announcing your gruesome return by pushing the air out of your lungs. Your eyelids snap open as the hex crystals spark to life as if they were your own eyes. The magic and shimmer and electricity course through you. Your mouth let's out an inhumane shriek.

They duck in pain as they cover their ears to the sound. It rings on for far longer than it should have as the room trembles like there's an earthquake. The rattling of the machines turns to concerning shaking. Sparkes flying when they shouldn't be. Your father shouts something at the doctors, demanding that they stabilize you.

Viktor unshielded his eyes to watch you. There you are. Shrieking in pain as your body is wracked with tremors, a monster of your former glory. He shakes his head. Hot tears streaming down his cheeks as wide eyes burn the imagine into his skull forever. He scrambles back towards the door. He runs. The best he can, he escapes back out into the night and doesn't stop until he's home.

Leaving you to shriek again as the building shakes. The windows shatter at the frequency of your voice as you come crashing back to earth.

[sammygender]

i’ve never been as angry on behalf of a character as i am for sam winchester

[longagoitwastuesday]

Kusakabe, dear, you're too beautiful to be saying that kind of stuff

[quietwingsinthesky]

what if Dean killed Charlie himself for helping Sam with the book of the damned instead of immediately telling Dean what was happening. what if he still told Sam it was his fault for putting Charlie in harm’s way (in this scenario, anywhere near Dean with the mark on him, despite her and Sam trying to remove said mark?) what if Dean had actually killed someone important to him who trusted him and loved him?

[unproduciblesmackdown]

among the boundless billions zaniness like laugh track as it definitely has that moment of expressing "rolling my eyes as The Left makes a kerfuffle of Acting like they have a stance as a veneer over the true belief that [xyz] is cool & chill actually" like what, approximate 0.000% chance wendy isn't, as usual, given the Objective Stance of "yeah yeah ohh we are cancelling involved parties talking about how we Don't watch this But. we all love this damn epic movie & already have it memorized so shut the fuck up, kids today" like. don't wanna really delve into how much billions thinks taylor or anyone is "really" trans / nonbinary like not too much benefit of the doubt in this material including what does provide info abt that specifically

& the general like [head in hands. what do you think any of this could possibly be about (you're the one that made your show at all about Power)] of "yes, it's bad/wrong to be someone that someone has done something to / victim of something" like that to be anti misogyny All Women Must Be Epic Winners b/c there's something to be proved: that they don't Deserve to be victims (of misogyny), not taken as a Given. while when we see some epic winner men stepping on other men (who need not all be guaranteed Winners so as to say misogyny is wrong), that's often Good, well beyond any assumption that various forms of basic disrespect / violation / patterns of emergent/entrenched power difference as Bad (for being things done to people, not for there being people they're being done to), & generally billions has to take an extra step when ppl get shitted on & tell us the Specific Cases when it was undeserved actually & someone was being mean to a specific person who didn't deserve that. & the specific cases when hey guess it wasn't that bad(tm) or when hey It's Okay that you're someone something was done to, in this case. & tell us what we were supposed to know all along like when someone who something was being done to (wrong Of Them, whether b/c they inherently deserve it no matter what, &/or b/c they failed to be someone who could make it Impossible to do anything to them, which, how do you do that besides being The Authority / Superior yourself, exactly? nonrhetorically? what if the in group vs out group / fascism / authoritarianism protected Me?) was actually being treated Too Well b/c ah well the abuse meant you were getting any attention, maybe it meant you were claimed as any superior's property, maybe it meant you weren't Already disposed of, as all Losers were in the end, You're Welcome.

obviously referring to winston where it's spelled out all the abuse towards him was deserved, & More than he deserved in the case of rian having more access & taking advantage of that, all for billions' enjoying its own sendoff there of, again, maximizing violation & violence short of [real violence is physical & leaves bruises / draws blood / Literally kills] which would be distasteful in general But doesn't it make wags look like the winner & winston the loser is that the former's completely unrelated completely impersonal ego blow gets way amplified taken out on winston, the most vulnerable recurring character when spyros as [first & ultimate Everyone Hates Him role] is more entrenched in there & billions still magnanimously pities tuk, as it does winston too, just not quite as much. again that like completely surface level realized power fantasy of forcing the mirror up to the Inferior so they're like nooo my inferiorityyyy & in doing so like, the projection in that lmao, we get it re: the valuing of & need(tm) for such Power Tripping & Reaffirming My Superiority & My Ego Restored; Everyone Claps like good god. & then for all ben & tuk are the slightly softer Two Too Nice Boys duo to the rian & winston quant duo, also like too nice i guess but not as much, ben is in charge of tuk but Any instance of rian being in charge of winston outstrips them in that "yay interpersonal abuse" dynamic, like then in the end billions may be like "yeah it's possible to be mean to them unlike how being mean to winston is actually Nice b/c he deserves everything he gets, we only vicariously enjoy it vs Feeling Bad for tuk & ben sometimes (still magnanimously & it's Not That Bad / just goofin)" like ben & tuk still Fail by not being people it's impossible to do anything to. & not Exceptions who anyone is really being Too Mean to. like if they were women, in which case, no problem surely with a "positive" kind of victim blaming where there is something Inherent that Will be victimized so hey how about to cancel that out there's this special Paternal Protection you Need always, Or Else? :) but instead they are men who are asian & is ben gay & w/tuk & winston nobody mentions glasses or fatness but billions doesn't really do much or very in depth textual mentioning of Anything, even w/nonzero mention that there may be gender & race in this world. a gay man, once. no disability. we just Know who are the inferiors who deserve it when they're treated inferiorly, or if they don't, they start deserving it when they fail to stop/avoid it, but if you start mentioning the factors behind who we all totally agree is inferior like whoa nobody was Saying any of that? being the real agent of oppression on the basis of the factors only You spelled out, much? nonbinary? i never say anything about the Gender Binary when i'm subscribing to it, sounds like You've created & enforced it. obfuscation & deflection onto [so Just Normal nobody has to label, explain, or argue it] couldn't serve a purpose & protect the existing power differences as they are. maybe You're the problem? perhaps you brought it upon yourself & now you're causing too much trouble standing up for yourself while everyone else's criticism is laser focused on you as the prior & continuing negative actions done to you are taken as a given / unquestioned / covertly protected to overtly encouraged?

anyway so wild if the Completely Normal(tm) Victim Blaming is uncritically recreated & oft embraced for "if you're watching this & don't wish you were axe / find him appealing" [billions as a sequence of vicarious power trips] purposes in this series....but a bit wild considering like this is your multiseason show that wasn't just purporting to be those power trips for [enough demographic & apparently specific personal tastes overlap w/creators] & was at all purporting to question the matters of power at play in the material, or yknow, at least to not be completely superficial material while said material is textually & thematically all about power difference being leveraged, how, the consequences, & so on. thus i will have to intermittently talk about it forever like this like lord unbelievable. & the funny little & sometimes less funny less little characters it has trapped in there so that those of us who were never meant to be in the audience can be cursed with this knowledge. like i have some feedback. "imagine not victim blaming" & "imagine adjusting your perspective can go beyond superficial layers added to politely defer to some other ppl while they're present but really like cmon do they deserve that. am i not just saying what we're allll thinking"

[goblin-enjoyer]

*draws something for the first time in a while. “Man I suck at drawing! Maybe go back to being good at it if I draw more!”

*doesn’t draw

*doesn’t draw

*doesn’t draw

*doesn’t draw

*doesn’t draw

*doesn’t draw

*doesn’t draw

*doesn’t draw

*doesn’t draw

*doesn’t draw

“Oh I got a neat idea for a drawing! Surely I have gotten better by now!” Loop post

[beedreamscape]

The thought that Scanlan would fall for Deanna at first sight rings so true in my head

Not to be that kind of person regarding player/character and repeated dynamics but......

[dekuneho]

tenderly, tragically ☆ ( ​prohero!katsuki x reader ) — aftermath of a huge argument, clingy and soft katsuki my entire blog’s agenda

You wake to an empty bed once again — the third time this week. It’s cold on your right; that’s a bit unfair. Does Katsuki take all the love and warmth along with him? Or it could be because it’s two AM and every trace of fatigue drained out of you at the reminder of your lone bedroom, like a cold, empty picture of a memorial.

You shuffle out of bed, ignoring how strangely unsettling it is not to have a body to crawl over just to get to the kitchen. You forgo the house slippers; you only steal Katsuki's pair anyway — and right now, he's out of the question.

The kitchen feels just as stale. No surprise there. Katsuki's absence sucked the life out of your shared apartment.

A glimpse of orange by the dining table begs for your attention. You approach carefully, stomach swooping. It’s a lunchbox, still with leftover food greasing the sides, unwashed. You know this one well enough because you bought it for him. For Katsuki. This was never here before, though.

You aren't sure how the fight started, if it was something blandly petty, or if either of you crossed an unforgivable line that tipped towards a night of screaming and shrieking that had your neighbors complaining hours after. You find that you don't have it in yourself to care anymore. This apartment, that bed — all without Katsuki is worse than any hurtful dagger of words you threw at each other.

Your fingers skim on the orange lunchbox, tracing the little ‘X’s sprinkled throughout like some off-brand copy of his hero costume, intimately familiar. Katsuki snorted when you gifted it to him — it was a really, really ugly laugh.

"Oh."

You startle and whip your head to the source, gaze landing on Katsuki, stunned and mid-way through rubbing the back of his hair with a towel.

You flinch away from the lunchbox, embarrassed. Insulting him brought him to life.

The comfort you'd been craving for the past three days materialized in the physical embodiment of the person you were supposedly angry at. It’s hard to summon even a trace of it now, not when the person you’d been aching for is standing a few feet away, just shy out of reach.

“Why are you awake?” Katsuki starts, uncharacteristically soft, gratingly rough like left unused for a while.

“Why are you here?” you ask instead. You refuse to admit outright that you couldn’t sleep without him — refuse to admit that it’s what’s been eating you up since the fight.

Katsuki frowns. “This is my place too.”

“What?” You’re not even mad. You’re just — “I thought you crashed at Kirishima’s house this entire time.”

“I’m not just gonna—” Katsuki bites his tongue, looking off to the side. He continues drying his hair, the biceps of his arm rippling. “Been sleeping on the couch. So I didn’t wake you up, or whatever.”

Well, you don’t know what to feel. Are you supposed to feel excited that Katsuki still came home even when you both unspokenly swore not to face each other? Furious that he hasn’t tried to apologize and instead snuck around the apartment like a thief on a hit-and-run in the dead of the night?

Maybe both. You might just be relieved that he didn’t hate you enough to keep himself away, even if he didn’t crawl up in the same bed.

“Right,” you say in a soft exhale. “Okay.”

Katsuki’s eyes flick up to you again warily, dangerously still. You don’t know what to say to him, so you keep quiet. Red eagerly follows as you reach for his lunchbox and pad over to the kitchen sink. As if sensing his response, you spare him a glance.

“I’ll do it,” you say. “I’ll wash this. Go change.”

You face away from the bedroom with purpose, scrubbing diligently. Soon enough, his footsteps sound across the silent apartment, fading to your bedroom. His closet is there, meaning his clothes are stacked in it, too. You wonder if he’s ever looked at you asleep and thought it looked as empty as you felt it was.

After you rinse off the suds and wipe the excess water on the towel hanging over the stove, Katsuki greets you with a sight of him resting against the bedroom door frame. How rude. You’d given him a free pass, and he’s blocking you off in return.

“Katsuki,” you mutter, walking closer.

He stares, tracing the curve of your cheek and the swell of your mouth. You missed him, too. Now that he’s here, emanating heat, the vestiges of lethargy wriggle back into the bones of your body. You long for your bed; you long to take him along with you.

“D’you wanna talk about it?” Katsuki rasps out.

“Not right now.” You shake your head. “Not really.”

“Okay,” says Katsuki softly, shifting to shuffle past you.

You latch onto his wrist, trying your best to keep his gaze. “Sleep on the bed.”

Katsuki freezes, then turns and gazes into your eyes searchingly. You hope you can convey well enough that you hate him for fueling your bubbling fury, for sharing the heated remarks; most of all, you hate him for leaving.

“Okay,” Katsuki says again. “Okay, yeah. Let’s go to bed.”

Somehow, you end up on the bed with Katsuki’s arms caged around you from behind. His breaths hot against the nape of your neck, your body warmed head to toe. He has one leg in between your thighs, pulling you closer, and closer, until you can almost cry from how good it feels to be back here. You’ve given him an inch and knew he would take a mile.

“I don’t like when we fight,” Katsuki grumbles, sounding half-asleep.

“Mm.”

“So let’s just forget about it.”

“Is that healthy?”

“Dunno. Don’t care.” Katsuki’s mouth hovers over your neck, teeth marks a threat. “What’s unhealthy are the bags under my fuckin’ eyes.”

You laugh, breathy, and a violent shudder courses through Katsuki. You turn to your side to meet Katsuki’s little scowl, a pout. For every villain and civilian’s worst nightmare, he’s really charming. 

“Are you only trying to make it up to me so you don’t have to take up the couch?”

Katsuki would usually fire back with a snark, but this time, you get to watch as his eyes soften and his shoulders lose their tension. He hides it away with a large hand on your face in the guise of tousling your hair.

“No,” he murmurs, “can’t sleep without you.”

Your eyes slip shut, giddy like it’s your first date. “Then I guess our feelings are still mutual.”