#Law; sweating: In my defense I HAD to be up all night. Okay??

[shima-draws]

Currently in the middle of reading a Lawlu soulmate fic and it’s SUPER cute so far but the best thing is that Law is also Cora’s (platonic) soulmate, and Cora’s got the ‘You won’t see in color until you meet your soulmate’ kind of bond. Except it fluctuates depending on Law’s health, and Law runs purely on caffeine and spite, so Cora will text him being like “Hey. For some strange reason I currently cannot see the color red. Would you happen to know anything about that” and Law is just like “Uhhh. No??” and Cora’s like “Law I swear to GOD you’d better stop pulling all nighters do not make me come over there” LMAO

[sanjisprincesswifey]

Good luck on your exams! Can I request Zoro and/or Law with prompt 3. I need something goofy and fluffy to cheer me up rn and hopefully it’ll be a good distraction for you too ☺️✨

note: lucky for you goofy and fluffy is my specialty! i hope you're doing okay anon

♡: trafalgar law & roronoa zoro x gender-neutral reader (seperately). 1,200+ words. sfw content.

“now, before you say anything, promise me you’ll stay calm,” you plead, holding your hands up in defense.

law stands before you and the polar tang, which is covered in multicolored balloons and streamers. the scowl on his face was more than enough to hint that he was not impressed with the display.

“y/n-ya…” he groans.

he hated attention regardless of the day, but on a special occasion to celebrate him and only him? it was his own personal hell.

“it was bepo’s idea. he wanted to throw you a party because you’ve never had one,” you confess. his face softens when he finds out his favorite mink was behind all this, someone you all knew law could never be upset with.

law lets out a long, dragged-out sigh before taking hold of your hand and pulling you behind him into the submarine.

everyone’s expressions mimicked your worried one, fearful of being berated, once again, by the captain. but when law observed how giddy you and bepo were to show him the feast you had prepared, the chocolate cake you had learned especially for today, and the table of presents thoughtfully hand-picked by each crew member, he couldn’t be upset anymore.

“this spot’s for you captain! right next to y/n; we know she’s your favorite,” bepo chuckles, showing law the seat chosen especially for him.

a bright red blush glows on both your faces, law keeping his head down in a futile attempt to not draw any more attention to himself. you bite back your own smile, teething on your bottom lip. the casual relationship, that was anything but, the two of you had been involved in over the past couple of months had recently come to the attention of the other crew members, leaving them to tease and joke around with the both of you to no end.

everyone begins engaging in their own conversation, digging into the meal you had been looking forward to all day, leaving the two of you to sit in a silence that was thick and heavy.

you lightly cough, hoping that was enough to break the tension, “i hope this wasn’t too much? bepo said it might be too much for you, but i wanted to make it special for you—”

“i thought you said it was bepo’s idea..?” law interrupts, his lips turned into a devilish smirk.

if it was even possible, your face becomes even brighter and redder than before, a profuse sweat scattering across your body as your eyes widen at the revelation.

“i wish i could take credit for this! y/n planned everything, we all just helped them,” bepo cheers patting your back lightly.

your hands cup your cheeks, hiding the embarrassment that’s eating you alive.

“y/n-ya? can i talk to you outside?” law rhetorically asks, knowing you’d follow him regardless of what you prefer to do.

your heart is beating incredibly loudly in your chest as you follow him, and not even the cool night air relieves your lungs from the heaviness in your chest. your thoughts are loud and almost incoherent in your head causing you to bump into his back when you fail to notice he’s stopped right in front of you.

“look law, i can explain—” you begin to plea until law holds a hand up that parallels how you did earlier in the day.

“did you know what i wanted for my birthday today y/n?” law asks, as you quirk your brow at him. you shake your head no, eliciting a chuckle from him. “all i wanted to do was have a nice dinner, maybe enjoy some cake, and—"

you wince, imagining how much he hated seeing the pageantry you put into the decoration and set up today. “fuck, i’m so sorry captain! i really am, i should’ve known better than to do all this,” you cry, feeling the irritation with yourself form in your chest leaving you to continue to mumble about how sorry you are.

law can feel his own muscles tense at your sudden outburst of emotions, unsure how to handle this situation. he takes a deep breath, swallowing harshly as the beat of his heart grows louder.

“and i wanted to tell you that i, i love you.”

silence. your mumbling stops as you look up at law’s distressed reaction, it’s obvious he’s never said that, or maybe even felt this way before.

“you, you what?” you question, despite knowing exactly what he said.

“i didn’t want to tell you this way, i—”

law’s words become lost when you lean up, your lips impossibly close to one another’s. his breath fans your face, the intimacy surprising him and catching him off guard.

“i love you too, law,” you smile, wasting no time eliminating the space between the two of you.

“i told you he’d enjoy his birthday,” bepo whispers, grinning from behind the door at penguin and shachi.

“we shouldn’t be doing this,” zoro reminds his idiot of a captain, who is snooping through your things.

luffy chuckles, digging around in your dresser for the secret stash of candy you swore you didn’t have. “i know they have it here somewhere, i saw them eating them the other day,” he insists, throwing your clothes out of the drawers in his frantic search.

after minutes of missing candy, luffy drops to his knees to look underneath your bed. he pulls out a long wooden box, the sound of whatever it contained rattling inside. “hmm? what’s this?” he asks, also piquing zoro’s interest.

once the lid is lifted, an old dingy sword is revealed amongst a couple of loose pictures. luffy pulls one up, showing it to zoro who was now sat next to him, “hey look zoro, it’s your first ever bounty poster! i didn’t know y/n knew who you were before she joined, isn’t that cool?” he unknowingly giggles, still rummaging through your things in search of the candy.

the bounty poster is covered in doodles of hearts, an obvious sign that you had a crush on the swordsman years before you had even met him.

“what the hell are you two doing?” you yell, standing in the doorway of the girls’ cabin startling the both of them.

zoro scrambles to his feet, hiding the poster behind his back. “now, before you say anything, promise me you’ll stay calm,” he pleads attempting to act as nonchalantly as he could.

luffy snatches the poster from zoro’s grip, waving it around in the air. “hey y/n, i didn’t know you knew zoro before you met us,” the boy smiles, chuckling to himself. your heart twinges at the sight of the familiar piece of paper.

your eyes widen as you rush over to snatch the page from his hand, noticing the box you kept under your bed is also open. you drop the paper in the box and kick it underneath, so it's hidden once again, spinning on your heel giving both boys the death glare.

you can’t read zoro’s face, but he’s looking at you in a way he had never done before. “don’t say anything,” you warn, pointing your finger at him.

you push both boys in the direction of the door, luffy insistently whining about the candy you ‘refused to share.’ you roll your eyes before tossing the bag at him, slamming the door behind them.

zoro smiles slightly, deciding to bring up the idea of a first date to you another day.

like, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated! (✿◠‿◠)

[astaroth1357]

"Hi kinda new. I don't know if this is where requests go, but if you haven't done it yet can I request an MC sneaking into the boys beds?" ~irenethehotdog

The MC Sneaks Into the Brothers' Beds While They're Asleep

@irenethehotdog don’t worry, I found ya anyway. 😁 Sooo there was a kind of tender way I could have played this… but then there was a funny way. I hope you're alright that I went with the funny way. 😅 I got two bed requests that are kind of similar-ish but how I’m interpreting them makes them just different enough to warrant two different asks. Here's the first one!

Check out my Masterlist for more!

Warning: Comical nudity? Is that NSFW-ish?

Intro:

Sometimes everybody needs a little comfort, especially in the middle of the night. Any number of things could have drawn the MC out of their bed: bad dreams, nagging thoughts, just general fear of the darkness of Hell that surrounded them, but they decided to try to soothe their unease with the company of their demonic housemates! Wonder how that turned out for them..?

Lucifer

I mean, if you’re feeling a little alone at night, maybe a little scared, it would only be natural to want to seek solace with the strongest person in the nearest vicinity, right? ...Right?

To say it was maybe ill-advised to just climb into bed with Lucifer would be an understatement… Frankly, if the enchantments he had on his door weren’t specifically meant for Mammon then they might have ended up in a very compromised position. But somehow, they managed to infiltrate the demon’s private sanctuary and get right up to his bed.

Now, Lucifer is not a heavy sleeper. Not at all. He’s grown pretty accustomed to waking up at all hours of the night because of his brother’s antics, so he felt the shifting weight on his mattress almost instantly.

They probably weren’t expecting him to suddenly jerk upright and spin towards them, fireball in hand ready to lob at their face... but that’s what they got.

After realizing that it was just the human and not Mammon coming in to take his stuff again, he made them sit down in front of his fireplace while he gave them a looong lecture about personal boundaries and how it’s really not smart to sneak up on demons like that… 

But he was still sympathetic to their sleep-deprived state so he offered them some tea and Devildom sleep remedies in hopes of getting them back to bed. ...Just not his. Back to your bed with you, MC.

Mammon

Mammon was their “babysitter.” Their protector. Their guardian. So why wouldn’t they want to go to him on a difficult night?

Getting into Mammon’s bed was hardly a challenge, sure they had to tiptoe through the garbage heap that made up his bedroom floor but it wasn’t Mission Impossible or anything…

What did catch them off guard was just how… not clothed he felt after they slid in under his covers. Like, pretty much wearing nothing at all. Not even a pair of courtesy boxers. 😓

It was their squeal as they flung themselves out of the bed that actually woke Mammon up. They had him ripping the covers off, ready to leap into action and everything, which definitely didn’t help matters. (Or maybe it did, depending on your point of view 🤷‍♀️).

Both parties pretty much turned into a cursing/blushing mess as he shot them embarrassed, rapid-fire questions while desperately trying to pull on some sweats. Meanwhile the MC stayed plastered up against the wall of his bedroom, answering him in equally defensive shouts.

Eventually, their fuss woke up Lucifer who was quick to send both of them back to their respective beds. The House teased them mercilessly for weeks… How were they supposed to know Mammon slept naked??

Leviathan

Levi might be a… strange choice for bedmate at first glance (he doesn’t really even sleep in bed, but a tub hardly meant for two people). However, there’s a certain level of approachability to him, isn’t there? Considering his own struggles with anxiety, maybe they thought he could relate…?

They tried knocking on his door first, thinking he might have been gaming, but there was no answer. When they walked in and found the otaku actually asleep for once, it seemed like their wishes might have actually been granted!

...But then came the actual trouble of trying to get into bed with Levi to start with. There wasn’t really an easy way to squeeze their body in past his because the tub was so dang narrow…

Any rational person might have just given up on the venture, but not MC. Whatever's possessed them to want to sleep with this awkward shut-in has a pretty good hold on them yet.

Lack of sleep might have been what gave them the bright idea to just try and lay on top of Levi veeerrry sooooftlllly…. Which is how the poor demon woke up to them halfway straddling his waist in the middle of the night.

His remarkably high-pitched scream woke up the whole dang House and the sheer amount of force he used when trying to jerk out of the tub toppled it over… Even after many apologies (and a trip to go buy a new tub), Levi still double locks his door at night to this day… 😓

Satan

Really an odd choice there, not going to lie. They’re well aware of the possibility that they could accidentally wake him and he maaaay not be the best waker (what being Wrath and all) but if it’s irrational worries that got you down, why not go to the most rational person in the House? Sounds like a perfectly logical decision, right?

That might have been what their half-baked disillusions were telling them on the way to Satan's bedroom but actually standing in front of the sleeping man was a whole other story. They felt crazy, genuinely crazy… But they still slipped in under the covers anyway.

Satan stirred almost immediately and turned to face them… but his eyes could hardly keep focus and the look of dopey confusion on his face could have honestly made the perfect screen background. "Huuuuuh…? MC…? What're you doin' 'ere…?"

They kind of had to hold in a laugh while they explained that they just wanted to sleep next to him that night. Satan beamed them an oddly serene smile and just nodded. "Okaaay…" With that he seemed to roll over to go back to sleep… but his mind caught back up with him before his drowsiness did.

"Wait a minute..." Ah shit….

 Like Lucifer, Satan ended up giving them a pretty good lecture on boundaries and the like when he finally snapped out of his stupor. Thankfully he wasn't mad, just a little embarrassed that they had seen him like that. He offered them a good book or two to pass the time if they couldn't sleep, but sent them back to bed all the same.

Asmodeus

Asmo probably doesn’t get people coming into his bed with completely chaste intentions very often, but he’s by far the most emotionally in-tuned demon in the House. If they're after a little sympathy, best just go to Asmo right?

They weren't really sure what to expect when they walked into his room... Does Asmo sleep like a Disney Princess, hair and makeup done perfectly in defiance of all laws of beauty?

Does he sleep like a '60s housewife, with curlers in his hair and leftover chips of mud mask on his face?

Does he sleep like the god of all sex that he is, sculpted chest for the eyes to see and everything underneath laid bare like a honeypot of temptation??

The MC doesn't really get to know, because when they pulled back the covers to climb inside they were met by the sight of someone else's very naked ass taking up the spot where they thought Asmo should be.

They go back to their room willingly, dejected and maybe a little scarred... Apparently they were just too late to the party...

Beelzebub

Okay, everything about Beel screams “Hello! I’m a warm comforting teddy bear!”...aside from the hungry parts. It’s really not hard to see why they’d want to go to him if they’re feeling a little vulnerable.

They didn't worry too much about being quiet when they walked into the twins' room. Belphie could sleep through a rock concert and Beel wasn't too far behind him (as long as he wasn't hungry).

They figured that the tall twin wouldn't mind too much if they just crawled into bed with him… He had make a similar request of them before, it was only fair right?

As they were preparing their tired body for a good night's sleep, they gently pulled the covers back next to Beel but they probably weren't expecting to find so many food wrappers surrounding him… or bags of chips… or packages of cookies… or-

Apparently Beel had yet another sleep-eating run and this time he seemed to have brought the whole kitchen back with him. There was hardly enough room left for Beel anymore, let alone the MC!

Considering their options were to either wedge themselves between a havoc roast and a bag of jerky or just brave one more night on their own, they cut their losses early and went back to their own bed...

Belphegor

They didn’t have to know Belphie since Day One of being there to pick up on how hard he slept. The man was pretty much in a coma for most of the day and that included his nightly rests too. Would he even notice if they… per say… slipped into bed with him to get a little comfort from their nightmares? Surely, he’d stay asleep, right?

When they didn't see his sleeping form in the room he shared with Beel, the MC eventually found Belphie up in the attic room. His little hideaway with a plush-ass bed to boot.

They didn’t bother being quiet at all. They figured that Belphie could have stayed under for anything short of banging pots and pans in his ears so why try to mask their footsteps?

They never expected him to be awake. 😰

The moment they lifted the covers, Belphie struck like some kind of blanket crocodile! He grabbed them by the waist and dragged them into the spot of the bed right under him with a impish grin on his face.

Turns out they weren't the only ones having sleeping problems that night and as they felt the full weight of his worn out body settle in nicely up against theirs they knew that maybe, finally, they'd get a good night's sleep… 🤭

[sproutsgcrden]

sentinel of naruhata | chapter three

koichi's very bad, no good day

warnings: descriptions of violence, manga spoilers for my hero academia: vigilantes

previous chapter | masterlist | read on ao3 | next chapter

want to be tagged? send in an ask and let me know!

“So… you’re Haimawari Koichi, age 19, freshman at Hitonami College… I’ll just call you Koichi, then. Unless you like the sound of Nice Guy better.”

Izuku laughed at Haimawari’s sputtering reaction, clutching his stomach as he leaned back against the cool floor of Koichi’s little one-room apartment. After the incident with the return of those thugs, Izuku and Knuckleduster followed Koichi back to his home. Knuckleduster was determined to recruit the both of them, and Izuku just… didn’t have anywhere else to be. He was sure that Eraserhead was already done with patrol by the time their skirmish ended.

Luckily, Koichi didn’t seem to mind too much when Izuku mentioned dying his hair. He felt the black suited him nicely, even if it was still a little damp. He didn’t need Tomura or Kurogiri making a surprise appearance and immediately picking out his green curls from the crowd.

“Don’t go through my stuff, crazy old man!” Koichi reached over to grab his student I.D. and his wallet from Knuckleduster’s grasp.

The veteran vigilante ignored him as he turned to face Izuku. “And what should we call you, kid?”

“Izuku.” The young boy had stopped laughing, but he was still laying on the floor.

“What, no last name? Running away from home?”

“What’s it to you?”

Koichi leaned over him, glancing down with concerned eyes. “Don’t tell me you’re trying to live off of the streets… No wonder you bought a weird amount of junk at the store.”

Izuku grimaced, sitting up and pushing the older kid out of his space. “I’m fine. Can we change subjects?”

Knuckleduster nodded, sending a small smirk Izuku’s way. “Okay. Why are you looking for Eraserhead?”

Koichi blinked, ignoring Izuku’s frustrated groan. “Who’s Eraserhead?”

“He’s an underground hero. He can erase quirks, barring any mutations, and he practically fights quirkless. He’s a badass.” Izuku was talking animatedly, moving his hands around wildly.

“Oh. Wait. Is he your dad?”

“Why would he be my father?!”

“You have the exact same quirk don’t you?”

Izuku slumped, flitting his gaze towards the floor. “It’s similar. I want him to train me how to be a hero. Plus I need his help with something, not that I’m gonna tell you losers what that is.”

Koichi let out an offended grunt while Knuckleduster heartily chuckled.

“Anyways. The two of you will be calling me Master.” Knuckleduster moved from the table to the small mini fridge in the corner of the room, opening it up to find it full of beer.

“Didn’t we tell you that we weren’t going to be your apprentices?” Koichi glared as the man opened a can of beer and began to chug it. “And would you get out already? This is my house!”

The old man ignored Koichi’s protests in favor of grabbing another can of beer. “The drug is called Trigger. It’s a quirk-booster; it also weakens the user’s ability to reason. Basically, this drug turns regular folk into instant villains.”

Izuku glared at the table, clenching his hands into tight fists. He knew all too well what Trigger was capable of. He shuddered as he dared to think what could happen if his father forced Tomura to take the drug. Japan would be completely decimated.

“So, why not just let the heroes do something about it? Or call the police.” Koichi let his head drop to the table, bored and frustrated at the fact that Knuckleduster was refusing to leave him alone.

Knuckleduster barked out a short laugh. “Ain’t gonna happen, kid. These pop-up villains on trigger can emerge from any crowd, at any time. Cops and heroes are always forced to play catch-up.”

“Oh. So they blend in with everyone else?”

“Exactly. And that’s where we come in!” Shocking the two boys into backing up, Knuckleduster hopped to his feet, hand clenched into a fist.

Izuku shook out of the state first, glaring at the older man. “Did you just say ‘we’?”

“That’s right, kid! The three of us are gonna go out, stop suspicious looking characters, and check their tongues!”

“Okay, even if we wanted to go with you, why are you allowing a nine-year old to accompany you? That seems pretty crazy to me.”

“Oh please. He’s more advanced in quirk usage and hand to hand than you, just based on last night. Plus, if he’s hiding from his parents, he’s got nothing else to do. He’s already a deviant in the law’s eyes.”

Izuku could do nothing but reluctantly nod his head at that.

“Trigger turns the user’s tongue black, so we’re gonna give those losers a beat down and make them spill the details on their dealer. That’s the only way to put an end to this whole drug trade.”

Koichi sweat dropped, shaking his head. “So you just want us to go around punching people?”

“Exactly!”

“I thought you were just joking! What the hell, man!” Koichi screamed as he hung off of Knuckleduster’s left arm. Izuku laughed maniacally as he hung off of the vigilante’s neck. He was punching people with his right hand and checking their tongues.

Koichi could admit he was a great multitasker. But holy shit, this man was insane.

The three of them were causing quite the commotion; people were screaming and running away from a man carrying a college student and a little kid who was also throttling everyone he was in range of. It wouldn’t be too long before a hero showed up to stop whatever was happening.

In a desperate attempt to stop Knuckleduster’s shenanigans, Koichi called out to the group closest to them. “Please! Give us a peek at your tongues! Stick ‘em out a little and this will all be over!” The guy closest to them stuck out his, thankfully, normal looking tongue. Koichi tried not to be too offended when the man also flipped him off.

It was hard to hear over Izuku’s laughter, which only increased in volume after getting the finger, but Koichi’s ear perked up at the sound of boots hitting the metal above them. With a glance upwards, the hoodie-clad vigilante felt his eyes soften in relief. “Pop Step!”

“What the hell are you losers doing?” The pink haired idol-in-the-making jumped down to the ground as soon as Kunckleduster threw both Koichi and Izuku on a nearby bench. They landed harshly, Izuku’s laughter tapering off within an instant. Koichi immediately shook it off, and stalked over to a nearby vending machine, selecting a coffee for himself and a juice for Izuku.

“Why don’t you ask the old man? He was the one chasing after innocent bystanders like a lunatic.” Koichi mosied back over to the bench, tossing Izuku the juice as he plopped down beside him.

“I’m nine, not a toddler. What if I wanted a coffee?”

“If they cooperated, I wouldn’t have to look like a lunatic now would I?”

Koichi ignored the both of them as he opened his coffee, taking a well-deserved sip after lowering his mask. He leaned his head back in a rare moment of reprieve, trying to block out the weirdness he somehow chose to surround himself with. He only blinked back into the present when Pop Step aggressively leaned on his arm.

“So you’re looking for junkies and dealers, huh?” Her thoughtful expression drooped into a grimace as she looked away from Knuckleduster. “Thanks for showing up last night, pops. Provided me with a distraction so I could slip away from that idiot.”

“Whatever.”

“Shouldn’t you be thanking me?!”

Pop Step shrugged, stepping back and throwing her hands on her hips. “Why’s the runt still following you around?”

Izuku, who was absentmindedly sipping on the juice that Koichi had gotten him, slowly looked up at Pop Step with narrowed eyes. “I’m not following them. I’ve just got nowhere else to be at the moment and it’s entertaining to see these two create chaos.”

“Right… and that Eraserdude you were looking for?”

“I won’t even be able to start searching for him until night falls. I’m just passing the time.”

Pop blinked a few times before turning back to Koichi. “So, Nice Guy!”

“You can just call me Koichi.”

“Koichi? Is that your real name?” Pop Step hopped in place, her large grin very apparent. “Why are you going along with this, Koichi?

The college student paused, the can of coffee held up to his lips as if he was ready to take another sip. He slowly moved it down, allowing it to rest against his thigh instead. “I just… if I don’t keep an eye on the guy, he’ll beat up every last person on the streets.”

“Nah. I start with the most suspicious ones… like youngsters who can’t stop messing around.”

Koichi ignored the statement, along with Izuku’s snort, as he continued. “And who knows what kind of trouble the kid’ll get up to without a responsible adult nearby!”

“Responsible? Says the dude who’s only item in his fridge is a case of beer!”

“You all are morons!” Pop stomped her foot against the ground. “Going at it so randomly is never going to work. Why don’t you use your heads!!”

Koichi looked up at the girl from his spot on the bench, eyes blank in confusion. “Our heads?”

Pop Step rolled her eyes, sitting on the edge of the bench and pulling out her phone. “Whenever a villain shows up, someone’s bound to snap a pic!”

“That’s right!” Izuku shot up, bringing his phone out as well. “The hero forums are always swimming with pictures of recent attacks.”

“All you need to do is refine the search to ‘unknown’ or ‘sudden’ villains. That’ll mean less legwork for you clowns!”

Koichi blinked, “That’s clever.”

“The photo search or calling you clowns?”

Izuku’s cackle rang out, echoing in Koichi’s ears as he glared at the girl sitting next to him. The three of them nearly missed it when Knuckleduster shot up from his seat in pursuit of a new target.

“Hey! Stick your tongue!”

“Oh, not this again!!” Koichi ran out in front of Knuckleduster, coming to the newcomer’s defense. “C’mon man, this guy is clearly just your average salaryman! He’s not even bothering anyone!”

In his rush to save the seemingly innocent man from getting punched in the face, Koichi barely came to a stop before nearly running into the newcomer. In shock, the man dropped his briefcase, crying out when hero themed action figures came tumbling out.

“See! I told you the guy was fishy! What kind of adult carries around dolls in a briefcase!”

Izuku and Pop Step had just caught up, exchanging concerned and bewildered looks. The young boy pulled his mask over his face and bent down to help the man pick up the toys.

“I- I’m sorry! I work at a toy company, these are just prototypes.”

“See! Nothing suspicious about that! He’s just a hardworking guy!” Koichi’s voice rang out as he tried to push Knuckleduster back.

The elder vigilante wasn’t having it, however, and pushed forward to grab onto the man’s lapel. “That’s what I’m trying to prove! So cooperate, or else.” His free hand cocked back, gloved fingers positioned into a tight fist.

Before Knuckleduster’s fist could land a hit on the poor businessman, a white cloth wrapped itself around his arm, effectively preventing his attack. Knuckleduster grunted as his arm was pulled back, and his eyes narrowed at the figure behind him. Izuku gasped, eyes widened as he took in the hero before them.

“Violent acts in full view of the public… you’re hardly a model citizen.” A gruff voice, harsh from sleep deprivation, sounded out from behind the group. Pop Step and Koichi backed up behind Izuku and Knuckleduster, shocked looks on their faces. “You must be one of those instant villains of late.”

Knuckleduster guffawed, “Hey kid! Looks like it’s your lucky day, huh?”

The newcomer’s eyes narrowed in suspicion, locking on to the young boy who seemed to be hyperventilating out of excitement.

Izuku’s green eyes sparkled in delight, holding his hands up in hopes of proving he wasn’t a threat. “You’re the Erasure Hero: Eraserhead! You lead the underground in both villain captures and civilian rescues, but you never stay long enough to actually gain any credit! Your fighting style is incredible! I always wondered if your capture weapon worked in tandem with your quirk- your hair floats when you use it, yeah? Does it negate small amounts of gravity near you? That would explain why your scarf seems to deny the laws of physics!” His voice carried on, causing those around him to stop and stare.

“Did you know the kid was so…”

“I’ve never heard him speak more than necessary. This is definitely new.”

Eraserhead was the first to snap out of the trance, tightening his grip on his capture weapon as he lowered himself into a battle stance. “I’m not sure how you got such vital information- I work very hard to make sure there isn’t much coverage on my exploits.”

Izuku nodded, standing in place. “There are only two clips I was able to find- but I’ve been looking for you for some time now! We’re not here to cause trouble, promise!”

“Either way, I’m off duty today. Just being a good samaritan.”

Knuckleduster grinned, turning to face the hero fully. “So we got that in common.”

Koichi backed away further, hands high in the air. “No way does he think we’re villains, right?”

“Hey, hey! Don’t lump me in with these guys!” Pop Step jumped, using her quirk to land a few yards backwards.

There was a tense moment of silence before disaster struck. Izuku, sensing trouble out of the corner of his eye, cursed as Knuckleduster rushed towards Eraserhead. The hero, now fully prepared for battle, dropped the sack he was holding. Cat food and jelly pouches flew out of the bag, bursting open against the hard pavement. Knuckleduster chose to go high, fist ready and aimed for Eraserhead’s face.

Izuku sighed, ignoring the shouts from Koichi and Pop Step as he jumped into the fray.

Yeah… this is the most idiotic thing he’s ever done.

[hankwritten]

Hofstadter’s Law

Demoman/Soldier, 2k

Request for MinnesotaMedic821, Drunk

“You sure this best way in, Jane?” Demo muttered quietly as he gazed up at the looming concrete spires of BLU base.

“I am very sure!” Soldier said, not quietly at all. Practically yelling actually. Right in Demo’s ear too, what with his arm slung around the RED’s shoulders as the only thing keeping him upright.

“Shhh!” Demo hushed him. “You want me to go half-deaf as well as half-blind? ‘Sides, the last thing we need right now is the other BLUs hearing us.”

Soldier’s head, lolling like a pad of butter sliding around a hot pan, took a long and winding trip from one side to the other. “…Why?”

“…Because I’m a RED in the middle of a nest o’ BLU corn snakes?” Demo raised a brow. “Ach, you really did have a number done, didn’t you? Remind me not to let you near the Everclear again.”

“Okay! I will definitely remind you!”

Demo eyed him dubiously. “Remind me what, Jane?”

The grey shell of the helmet stared at him for several seconds. “…What?”

“Let’s just get you in, aye? We can do all sorts of filling in each other’s memories when your toesies are tucked safe under your covers.”

But in order get the Soldier safely in bed, they’d need to first traverse the minefield of potential termination that was the center of BLU operations. No problem at all really. It was late—even if some of the mercs had hit the town like Demo and Soldier had, they’d certainly be back by now, fast asleep, no chance at all of waking up and discovering a very difficult to explain situation in the form of an enemy merc carrying around their Soldier. As long as they were quiet, they’d be perfectly safe.

Demo guided Soldier towards the back doors, at which point they promptly ran into the enemy Demoman.

The BLU, spread out on a fabric lawn chair surrounded by dust, desert, and least a half-dozen bottles, blinked wide-eyed at the pair who’d just come around with the low-speed but high-inertia gait of a drunk couple. He shook his head slightly, as though to dispel the ‘ole three am fog and ascertain that yes, that truly was his teammate being helped along by the RED demolition’s man. Demo, for his part, froze like he’d been staked to the ground.

Soldier, as heavy things are want to do, kept going at his expected velocity. It nearly took them both over—Demo had to abandon the arm under his shoulders, lunging to haul Soldier up the waist and folding him in half like a Panini.

“Well,” the BLU in the lawn chair said, “you two look like you had fun.”

His face was a mish-mash of raised brow and, perplexingly enough, a smirk at the corner of his mouth as he bore witness to the two truants. Most shockingly of all, there wasn’t a trace of surprise on his face now, just those shades of smug amusement you put on when watching a particularly entertaining drunkard. The fact that Demo was used to having that expression leveled at him was neither here nor there.

“Er…” he said eloquently.

The flash of dread that’d shot through him when he’d caught sight of the BLU was the worse case scenario of course: reported on, fired, dead in a gravel pit somewhere, all rendered in gory detail by his mind’s eye. (His overactive imagination a bloody menace sometimes.) But as the BLU continued to sit there, not sounding the alarm, not even looking particularly worried, Demo’s fear for his own neck slowly morphed into confusion.

“I was just er-”

“Oh, hello Demoman!” Soldier chimed in. “We have been out. Drinking alcohol!”

“I’ve heard that’s a fun pastime,” his teammate commented mildly.

“Don’t tell him that,” Demo complained, hauling Soldier to an upright position. “Jesus, this er, isn’t what it looks like, honestly.”

“Sure it isn’t,” the BLU said, wearing what could now be identified unmistakably as a smirk. He gestured with his bottle. “Back entrance ‘s that-a-way.”

A little ball of defensiveness, not matter how unjustified, rolled around in Demo’s gut to the point he wanted to stop and give the other Demoman a piece of his mind. Which would probably involve lying. And then consequences to lying since Soldier had already given away this wasn’t a one time thing. He shut his gob and took the out.

Until the hum of the BLU’s resumed tune was far behind them, until the curving architecture of the base would keep them from being overheard, he didn’t dare start asking questions. Only when he was sure that the corner they’d rounded was at a significant distance away did he accusatorily hiss, “what was that about?”

“Hm?” Soldier asked pleasantly. He fixed a dopey smile on his friend, a second ago which had been the responsibility of a beetle crawling a tuft of bullheadidly tenacious grass.

“Your Demo, why’d you tell him where we were? And why didn’t he flip out?”

“You’re my Demo,” Soldier hummed unhelpfully.

“Ach,” Demo said, realizing he’d get nowhere with the security lights and a whole herd of horseflies bearing down on them. “Fine, lets get you inside first. But I’ve still got some bloody questions.”

They’d arrived at the unassuming little door cut into the base’s thick concrete, welded metal gushing haphazardly from its size as though its very addition had been an afterthought. Demo motioned at Soldier.

“Pass me your keycard, lad.”

“M’what?”

“Keycard.” Demo’s heart sank. “You keep it in your wallet or something, right?”

Soldier stared at the card reader. He stared at long and hard, so long and hard that Demo was starting to wonder if the question had made it through his ear canals at all when he concluded, “I forgot it.”

“You for- Oh for the love of Pete.” Demo took the hand that wasn’t supporting his mate and rubbed it long suffering across his face. “Well that’s great. Bloody great, risk my arse hauling a drunken fart back to his base cause he can’t hold his bloody liquor, and we can’t even get in to the fecking-”

The door hissed, layers of dust shaking loose like with a sci-fi swish as the vacuum seal was opened to the desert night. Demo gawked, watching it shake away grit like it was built into the surface of Mars instead of a dead-end town in the middle of New Mexico, and letting out a wash of air-conditioned oxygen.

When it was partially ajar, it unveiled the BLU Sniper, arms folded and leaning on the inner wall.

“How…what?” Demo asked. Soldier was too busy looking at the beetle again to be perplexed.

“Heard you guys arguing from the roof.” Sniper jerked his thumb upwards. “If you were sneaking ‘round, might want to think about keeping your voice down in the future. Probably could’ve heard you all the way at RED.”

“I wasn’t- We weren’t-”

Sniper waited. When no adequate explanation was forthcoming he said, “you comin’? Cold air’s getting out.”

Demo grimaced, and began the arduous processes of lugging the Soldier inside.

Chill ran up where his t-shirt had sweated to his neck, Soldier fairing no better since they’d spent the past half hour (every moment since Demo had realized Soldier would be going nowhere on his own) with their sides pressed together. He hadn’t realized how exhausted he was until the cold ai) brought the slightest suggestion of relief to his (admittedly also not terribly sober) body.

“If this is going to be a running thing for you two, maybe don’t get so munted next time, yeah?” Sniper offered. It was neither reprimanding nor conversational, like this was a totally normal exchange happening here with a RED in a BLU hallway.

“Who said anything about a ‘running thing’?” Demo demanded. “You didn’t overhear that!”

Sniper raised a brow. “Soldier said you were his new best mate. I assumed that meant you’d both be out and about more than once.”

Demo grit his teeth, the pieces clicking into place. “Did he now.” He leveled his best attempt at a glare from his blindspot at the disoriented Soldier who, unsurprisingly, was more interested in resting his head on Demo’s shoulder than being reprimanded. “Well that’s good to know. Any chance you can point me to his room?”

Sniper took one gloved hand and shoved a thumb over his shoulder.

“Thanks. Cheers.”

“Goodbye Sniper,” Soldier said belatedly, a good three minutes after he’d disappeared around a corner. “Oh hey! My room!”

“Jane, is there anyone you didn’t tell about us?” Demo demanded.

Soldier thought for a moment. “…I didn’t tell any REDs.”

“Jane,” Demo groaned. “This is supposed to be a secret. What if one of them tells the Administrator? You want that? Going to be hard ever meeting up again if we’re both six feet under.”

For the first time, a bit of shame managed to reach the Soldier through the woolen mesh of his inebriated state, and he looked at his shoes. “I’m sorry,” he muttered. “I just got really excited. Wanted everyone to know I was hanging out with you.”

Demo sighed heavily, not up bullying his friend when he was in such a pathetic sate already. “I know you were. Ach, it’s fine. We’ll talk ‘bout it later.”

Later being sometime after he’d managed to deposit Soldier onto a four-poster, though with the way the night was going it seemed like that moment would never arrive. His outlook wasn’t improved when he opened the door of Soldier’s room and found that not only was it Soldier’s room, but the occupancy of the entire Offense division.

“Whzzat?” Scout said, rolling to his elbow just in time to be bombarded by the hall light. “Ahg, dammit Sol. What the hell man?”

Demo didn’t bother freezing this time, successfully desensitized to literally every BLU on the planet stumbling across his ill-advised trip through the enemy base. Instead, he walked over, dropped Soldier on the bed, and began helping him unlace his boots.

“What the-?” Scout said when he finally lowered his arm. “Oh right. You. Jesus, how ‘bout a little consideration for the sleeping guy?”

“Mmrrhaunna,” came from the bundle in the corner.

“Yeah, what they said.”

“You don’t got the right to be begging consideration from anyone, jackrabbit,” Demo said hotly as he frees the military-grade combat boots from Soldier’s feet. He threw a blanket over the man’s form, who sighed appreciatively and said something about how this would earn Demo a medal. “‘Sides, don’t need to worry about me no more. I just came to drop of your sergeant and get out of here.”

To prove it, he backed out of the room with hands raised. Mission complete. Time to get out of here and bring this mortifying night to an end.

He might have gotten away with it too, if Pyro hadn’t shot straight up and pointed an accusing finger at him. “Mrrhaha! Hudda hah ha hoo.”

Demo reared back slightly from the Pyro who was still very much in their rubber suit, now with added nightcap. Whatever the hell they were saying, they were very impassioned about it. He looked to the Scout for help.

“They want you to tuck them in too,” he said, and the light flooding in from the single open door was good enough to see that he was smirking as he did so.

“Wha- I’m not bloody tucking anyone in,” Demo said hotly.

“Hudda ha. Mrra haa hur ha.”

“You tucked Soldier in,” Scout translated. “Only fair.”

“Gurrhaha.”

“…Otherwise they’ll tattle.”

“I cannae bloody believe this,” Demo groaned, rubbing his face.

Grudgingly, he made his way over the giggling pyrotechnician, absolutely giddy to have gotten their way. Thankfully boots weren’t part of the pajama equation, and Demo had only to tuck in the blanket’s edges ‘round a pair of socked feet and a squirming, suit-clad body. When he tried to leave it at that, a keening noise stopped him, and he was forced to repeat the process for Mayor Balloonicorn. All the while, he could feel the Scout staring smugly at the back of his head.

“D’awww, ain’t that adorable. Going to be hard to be scared of you now, though. Y’know, after you swung by to give us goodnight kisses and all that crap.”

“Just for that, I’m going to have a sticky trap with your name on it, boyo,” Demo pointed an accusing finger in Scout’s direction. He just shrugged.

“But uh,” Scout added, just as Demo was finally about to make his escape. “Glad you turned out to be cool though. He was really gung ho about tonight. Its nice he has good friends besides us.”

Demo cast his gaze to Soldier, who’d fallen fitfully in the short while it’d taken to get Pyro off his back.

“…That’s good. It was a fun time.”

“Oh yeah?” Scout wiggled his eyebrows. “How fun?”

Demo took one of the pillows he’d used to burry Pyro in and flung it at Scout’s face.

“Sticky trap. Your name.”

He could still hear Scout snickering all the way out into the hall.

[ffakc]

The Boys of Fall - a Jeffrey Dean Morgan fanfiction

I based this off a dream I had where Jeff and my dad were watching football together. I was being super flirty the whole time while Jeff just wanted to watch the game 😂

The Chicago Bears versus the Seattle Seahawks. Tim versus Jeff. My loving dad versus my loving husband. I prepared a feast of game day snacks for my guys and picked up their favorite brews. Today was going to be intense, to say the least.

I build a plate of food and head to the living room. The game was well underway. Jeff taps his knee with a smile and I sit on his lap.

“Here, try this,” I run my fingers through Jeff’s graying hair and kiss him. I hold a chip with hot spinach dip up to his mouth. He takes a large bite.

“Oh my,” he rolls his eyes back, “Did you make this?” he takes a sip of ice cold beer. I gesture to my mom. “Ma, you’ve really outdone yourself!”

“Thanks, Jeff!” my mom smiles. My husband looks over his array of snacks, trying to decide what to sample next.

“I’m 24 years old and I still don’t understand football,” I laugh and continue petting Jeff’s hair.

“I’ve explained it to you before!” my dad says.

“Well, the gist of it is the defense tries to prevent the offense from scoring the football. The offense must advance the ball at least 10 yards every four plays or downs. Each time the offense is successful in advancing the ball 10 yards, they get four more downs or what is called a ‘first down’. Does that make sense, sweetheart?” Jeff explains.

“A little bit,” I reply, “You’re so cute when you talk about the stuff you love.” I curl up under the fuzzy blanket while Jeff’s hands rub my back.

“These wings are delicious too, doll. And you don’t even miss the meat!” Jeff remarks, biting into a cauliflower Buffalo wing.

“Yeah, she made those for Grandpa once and damn near killed him,” my dad jokes.

“It’s true! I think I added more hot sauce than barbecue,” I giggle.

“I don’t mind a little heat,” Jeff replies.

“Well, if you’re going to eat those spicy wings,” I lean into Jeff’s ear, my voice barely above a whisper, “You better brush your teeth real good later. I want your mouth all over me, Daddy.” I feel Jeff get excited in his gray Seahawks sweatpants, grateful he was under the blanket, for those sweatpants definitely didn’t leave much to the imagination. He squeezes my backside and bites his lower lip. His face quickly turns to frustration.

“NOT A PASS!!! GOD DAMN IT!!!” my husband yells, causing me to flinch, “Sorry, babe,” Jeff rubs my shoulder, “Didn’t mean to scare you.” My dad laughs maniacally.

“Well, Mr. Morgan! Look who’s not doing so hot!” Jeff tosses up a middle finger with a smirk. “Hey now, play nice. Just because your team sucks doesn’t mean you get to flip off your father in law.”

“Can I smack your dad?” Jeff jokes.

“Jeffrey!” I playfully slap his chest and we all laugh, “How about another beer?” Jeff nods.

“God, I really love your daughter, Mr. C,” Jeff says as I hand him the beverage with a kiss, “Thanks, baby.” I sit back on my husband’s knee.

“I wouldn’t want anyone else for a son in law, Jeff. Look at the way she looks at you.” I make a goofy face and Jeff wheezes, “Okay, maybe not like THAT. But it makes me so happy to see her happy. She never holds back about how much she loves you, and don’t we all want that in a partner?”

“Very true, I’ll drink to that. I love you, (name).”

“I love you too, Jeffrey,” I nuzzle my head in the crook of his neck.

***

I waited for my husband to finish his shower as I dicked around on my phone. We were sleeping in my childhood bedroom. I shut off the lamp next to the bed, letting the moonlight illuminate the space I used to call my own. The crisp, fall breeze feels heavenly. Jeff appears in the doorway, hair damp and pajama bottoms clinging to his hips. His manly, brunette chest hair turned me on like crazy. He shuts and locks the door behind him.

“Nice room you’ve got here. I dig the orange walls,” my husband looks around.

“Yeah, I think we repainted my junior year of high school. I was going through an artsy phase,” I giggle.

“It’s very cozy,” Jeff smiles and places his glasses on the nightstand. I beckon with my finger. “What are you doin’, Princess?” He climbs on top of me and kisses me deeply, tasting very faintly of cigarettes, but mostly like minty toothpaste, “Oh, I see. I know what you want. Don’t worry,” he glides his tongue over his teeth, “Nice and clean, no more Buffalo sauce,” he teases. I laugh as he buries his face in my neck, kissing and moaning. My husband smells so damn good. Jeff’s kisses trail down my body, “Look at my little girl. Oh fuck yes. So wet already, Princess?” he rasps, burying his nose in the freshly trimmed hair of my most sensitive area.

“You always get me there, Daddy,” I nod and bite my lip.

“You smell scrumptious. Good enough to eat, baby cakes,” Jeff lowers his voice to a whisper, “We’re going to have to keep it down a bit, doll,” Jeff makes a satisfied “mmm” noise and he sucks my clit, “Don’t want Mom and Dad to know how good I tongue-fuck you, hm?” He slurps loudly, “That’s my good girl.” He kisses around my outer lips and slides a finger inside.

“Daddy,” I whine, “Oh fuck!” I rock myself against Jeff’s hot, wet mouth as he grips my hips. He adds another slender finger and begins curling them slightly, hitting just the right spot. “Jeffrey, oh god yes! Jeffrey!” I gasp. Staying quiet while my silver fox’s tongue dove in and out and around every inch of me was damn near impossible.

“You sure have a pretty little pussy, my gorgeous wife,” I LOVED when Jeff called me that. I was Mrs. Morgan, now and forever, and he was never going to let me go. Jeff brings me to the edge of a mind blowing orgasm and readjusts himself. He hovers above me, pressing his lips into mine. “I’m going to fuck your pretty little brains out now,” Jeff lets out a vaguely Negan sounding chuckle. I beg for it as he taps the tip of his hard cock against my clit, “But maybe,” I run my hands over his stomach and across his chest, his nipples hardening from the stimulation and the cool night air. “Maybe I want you to beg for it, sweetheart,” his croaky voice gives me chills.

“Please, I need it so bad,” I can barely speak.

“I can’t hear you,” Jeff teases.

“Please, Jeff! I need your big, fat cock inside of me!” I speak a little louder.

“That’s it, pretty girl,” Jeff sinks into me with a groan, “I ain’t going to last long, you feel so go-oh hell yes, that’s it. Right there,” he bites his lower lip as he thrusts deep and slow, smooth and even. The fullness makes me shake. He hushes me gently as he brushes two fingers over my clit, “Jesus fuckin’ Christ, sweetheart, I’m so close.”

“Come on, Daddy. Finish inside me, Jeff. Please finish insi- oh fuck! Fuck me harder!” I whine. Jeff quickens his pace as small beads of sweat gather on his forehead. Jeff curses under his breath, making low growls of pleasure.

“You want it in your pussy, hm? You want Daddy to breed you good?” I nod quickly and inhale sharply as an intense orgasm overtakes me. I shove my face in the pillow, attempting to muffle my sounds. “I’m fucking cumming, Princess, oh fuck yes! Yes, baby girl! Oh god!” I drip with Jeff’s sticky, warm juices as he pulls out. He rests his head on my chest and I begin stroking his hair.

“Jeffrey Dean, you fucking animal,” I pant.

“I’ve still got it. At 54, I’ve still got it,” Jeff jokes.

***

Jeff pours himself a cup of coffee and joins us at the dining room table. He rests his head on my shoulder lovingly.

“Did you sleep good? You look tired, Jeff,” my mom laughs.

“Yeah, slept wonderfully,” Jeff smiles.

“Is everyone still coming over later?” I ask.

“As far as I know. If you two want to run to the store-“

“Okay, I have to say something. It’s bugging the hell out of me,” my dad speaks up.

“You okay, Mr. C?” Jeff looks confused.

“Yeah, um, I couldn’t sleep last night. Now, I can’t stop you guys from doing what married couples do, just know that the headboard in that bedroom is LOOSE and LOUD,” my dad says.

“Oh my god,” I bury my face in my hands and Jeff turns red.

“Just be more careful, okay bud?” my dad pats his son in law’s shoulder.

“Yes sir,” Jeff holds back laughter. I sip my coffee with a smirk, squeezing Jeff’s knee under the table. And here we thought we were being sneaky.

[jasperswh0re]

Savior [Raylan Givens x reader]

aaand yes i went ahead and made a part two for this. will this be a series? no clue :) hope you all enjoy nonetheless

Summary: You see Raylan Givens again at a bar

Warnings: Physical fights, drinking, creepy guy

Word count: 1,702

part one

---

The cold countertop felt fresh against your burning cheek. You paid no mind to the clinking sound near you, along with the loud voices from the back of the bar. It had been a long day at work. You needed a drink.

"You doing alright there, hon?" The bartender asked. She was sweet. You always enjoyed her company. "Are you actually going to order something tonight?"

You lifted your heavy skull and sighed. "Long Island iced tea, please."

The drink was sat in front of you in a matter of seconds. You took your time sipping on it, watching the bustling bar crowd around you. Well, as bustling as a bar was in this state.

You found that people in Kentucky drank differently. They were quiet. Came for peace after a long shift, similar to you. Of course, there were always the assholes creeping on women or the loud young women who were celebrating their 21st. Every bar had them.

But for the most part, they were quiet. Calm. You preferred it over the bars in Oregon.

Cool glass now empty, you left the barstool behind to play some pool. You weren't terrible at the game, it was fun for a completionist like you. A part of you hoped you had someone to play with. Hell, even someone to spend time with outside of work. But moving down to Kentucky had you entirely cut off from your Oregon life. No friends.

Just a family you were not determined to see anytime soon. You were thankful they had no idea of your presence. You intended to keep it that way.

"Don't I know you?" Someone said behind you. You didn't recognize it immediately, assuming they were talking to someone else, but you rolled your eyes at the male that was attempting to hit on you.

"Probably not..." You said in an annoyed tone. You leaned on the cue and turned to see a very familiar man wearing an even more familiar cowboy hat.

"Oh that's a shame," Raylan said sarcastically, but a smile sat on his face. "I was trying to find the owner of this-" He held up your silver bracelet. The one stolen from you weeks ago.

"Marshall!" Your eyes widened. "What in the world... You were trying to find me?"

"Not inherently," Raylan placed the bracelet in your palm and leaned against the pool table. "I did get it back from that asshole after the whole... ordeal."

Raylan paused. A part of him wanted to admit that yes, he was trying to find you. Something about you had his mind running a mile a minute. Tim took notice of his distractedness during work, so he figured, why not find you? It took a while but he stumbled upon you on accident. The one time he wasn’t actively searching for you.

"I figured you wanted it back... for uh... sentimental value."

"That's too kind," You smiled down at the jewelry. "Thank you, Raylan."

You guys stared at each other happily. Somehow, the distance between you had nearly vanished. A sense of wanting washed over you both. You wanted more. He wanted more. Though, you guys weren’t sure what you wanted more of.

And more you each received.

The coming weeks were full of Raylan running into you (or meeting you, on purpose) at the same bar. Sometimes he would arrive all scuffed up from a day at work and others you could see regret in his eyes.

Raylan didn't bring up his days at the Marshall Service very often. You were the first person he knew outside of law enforcement and Harlan. You weren't a criminal, either. So he figured he would bring it up as little as possible. It made everything easier.

He found you mildly interesting to say at the least. You were a small-town person, he was too but his definition certainly didn't match yours, and you grew up a simple life. You didn't talk much of your family but rather ambitions, goals, and everything in between.

You're a calm person, he realized. Way more collected than any person he's met. You aren't wild. You go with the flow. You don't step out of line. You were no goody-two-shoes and definitely not a criminal, he could spot someone shady about a mile away.

You were just... laidback. Even when he showed up with a swelling face and a bloody nose, you wouldn't scold him or make a fuss. If he didn't want to talk about it, you would know.

Instead, you’d take care of him. He never had a say in, either. It didn't matter if you had to take him to the men's restroom to wipe away the blood and sweat. You were there for him that night, no questions asked.

Raylan found peace in this. Any night that he saw you, calm flooded his body. It was like you were an escape from his day-to-day life. It was like you knew exactly what he was thinking.

Slowly but surely, this was how he began to fall for you. More time passed and he was in deep. Your meetups at the bar became a consistent thing. Every Friday night. And every Friday he got to know you a little more.

"So you haven't told me this yet," Raylan set his whiskey on the counter. "Why did you move to Kentucky... of all places? You're from Oregon. I think it's neat... so why here?"

Your calm exterior faltered for a moment. Raylan was quick to pick up on it.

"Just..." You looked to the side, avoiding his eyes. A hard mask replaced your previous expression. "No reason in particular."

"That's a little hard to believe..." Raylan's eyebrows furrowed. 

“Trust me,” You flashed an unconvincing smile. “I’ve read up on you cowboy. I saw an article about your little-” You made a motion of a gun shooting with your fingers- “Down in Florida. Is that why I’ve never seen you ‘round here before?”

Raylan’s concerned face didn’t drop, but he slowly answered you, “Yeah. That’s why I’m down here. Why won’t you answer my question?”

You slammed your drink on the counter and snapped, “I never ask you questions, Raylan.”

He lifted his brows and held up his hands defensively. He opened his mouth to speak but before he could get a word out, a taller man blocked his vision of you. 

“Is he bothering you, cutie?” The man said. He was drunk as hell. “Let me take you out of here. No problem, no stress.”

Raylan glared at the figure in front of him. More than anything, he wanted to yank on the dusty flannel and shove him into the row of drinks behind the counter. He restrained himself. 

“No thanks, we’re okay,” You pursed your lips into a thin line.

“Come on...” He drawled and reached out a hand to touch your shoulder, but a hand yanked it away.

“Don’t touch,” Raylan warned. 

“Oh? What... are you their boyfriend?”

“Raylan,” You glared at him. “Don’t be stupid.”

“Yeah, Raylan,” The man teased. 

“Personal space is of the essence,” Raylan trained his eyes on the man. “Touch them again...” He breathed through his teeth. “You don’t want to find out.”

“Did you just threaten me?” The man leaned towards Raylan, their faces inches apart. Raylan didn’t answer him. “That’s what I thought...” The man turned around again, grazing his fingers across your bare knee. 

Raylan took that as an invitation to swing a fist into his head. He warned him. You leaned backward in surprise when the man stumbled, hitting his head on the counter. You could only watch, sipping on your whiskey, as the man tackled Raylan to the ground. You warned him.

The bartender forced the two men outside to fight and you didn’t follow right away. You finished your drink, eyeing the bartender who was staring back at you as if to say, “Aren’t you going to follow him?” 

Realizing that it wouldn’t go well, you dropped your head in defeat. Damn it Raylan, you thought. You gulped the rest of the alcohol and slowly walked out of the bar. You took your time, not exactly eager to see the rest of this fight. 

The cool breeze hit your skin. You loved the Kentucky breeze. Tobacco scent filled your lungs as you stared up at the golden sky. The only thing interrupting this peaceful moment was the sound of grunting and punches being thrown. 

You looked down to see Raylan getting his ass kicked. He shielded his face from the punches, his hat was a few feet away from his head. Your eyes flickered between him and the hat for a few seconds. Eventually, you walked past the fighting boys and grabbed the hat from the brim. How it managed to stay on while he was tackled... You hadn’t a clue. Every time you saw him this was glued to his scalp. 

Your fingers traced the tan object. You liked how it fit him. Somehow, he pulled it off well. But Raylan could pull anything off. Even getting the starlights beat out of him. You drew a sigh and placed the hat on a nearby bench, then approached the large man on top of your friend.

“Hey!” You yelled, kicking the side of the man. He groaned, barely pausing. “Don’t you think you’ve done enough?”

The man didn’t answer. You glared daggers, which seemed to have done enough. “Go on home... Go on!”

He let out a huff of frustration and left. You stared down at Raylan’s beaten body. 

“You’re an idiot.”

“I was drinking,” he groaned, pressing his palm to his temple. 

You grabbed his hat and sat next to him on the pavement. Some blood from his forehead spilled onto his hair, so you squeezed a strand between your thumb and your index finger, ridding it of the hot blood. It was a gentle gesture. All Raylan could do was stare at you. 

“So dumb...” You muttered. “Do you ever think with that head of yours?”

He didn’t answer.

“Always trying to save me...” You stared at him disappointedly. 

“Anything... for you,” The words slipped out. He froze, wondering if his words would scare you away, but you laughed. 

“Let’s go get you cleaned up, Marshall.”

[yandere-mha-blog]

Chapter 8: Handy

words: 2218

There was only one more thing hawks wanted to do at the moment, get your talon back, he was smart to keep one of his feathers on the guy he smacked against the door. Hearing the conversation on how he keeps his little “trophies” in front of the people he “interrogated”.

“I was so worried when I heard the news that Nighthawks somehow found a way to break in.” His wife said, “And to hear you were actually hurt.”

“I'm fine, nothing to worry about.” He said

“But dad, you have a large bump on your head.” His kid said

“Nothing time and some ice won’t heal.” he said “thanks for dinner honey.”

He gave his wife a quick kiss on the cheek before heading into his workroom and taking out your talon from a glass box before putting it back in and then going to the other trophies this man had collected, what a sicko. Three days had passed and it was about time Hawks got it back for you, then man was getting too comfy thinking that he was in the clear, sure Hawks moved quickly but he also knew when to wait for the right time to strike.

Hawks waited and waited till he saw all the lights go off in the house, all except for the office, Hawks feather finally floated out from under the guy's coat as he were none the wise and he didn’t even notice it undoing the window lock and slowly lifting it up, the man was so immersed in whatever he was writing down he didn't even notice hawks climbing in through the window with one of his primary feathers shaped out, hawks ave him a second and nope, man this guy instincts were awful, or Hawks was just that good at hiding his presents.

So it was really easy for hawks to over his mouth with his gloved hands and have his primary feather against the man throat only then did he notice

“Hi, guys.” Hawks said “How are you doing this fine night? Well, I guess you can't really talk, right now, now you are probably wondering why I am here, the answer is very very simple, even the score.”

Hawks had two of his feather an inch away from the guy's eyes

“Now look unless you want to go blind you will stay quiet and answer my questions okay.”

The guy just nodded and hawks uncovered his mouth

“Please, don't kill me, I was just doing my job.” He said

“Is that how you justify your actions, there is a lot to unpack there, now where did you put her talon?”

“On the second-highest shelf, third to the left.” He said as hawks used his feathers to lift it off and put it in his coat pocket “That's all you wanted right.”

“Hmm well, one more question, which hand did you hold to pilers to pull it out.” Hawks said, “And I don't know isn’t an answer.”

“I used, my left hand to hold them,” he said

“Good now place your left hand on your desk.” Hawks said

“Why are you planning to do it?”

“Just a taste of your own medicine.” Hawks said, “Look if you won’t put it down, maybe your wife would offer hers up.”

“What?” The man said

“Tell you what I'll let you decide, your wife's left hand, or yours.” Hawks said and the man was now sweating buckets

“I need my hands to provide for my family.” He said, “I can't lose them.”

“You know that was a rhetorical question, at least I don't feel as bad doing this.” Hawks said slicing the man's hand clean off, it took him a moment to process it seeing the numb he now had for a left hand and started screaming out in pain, Hawks saw him topple over to the floor before picking up the hand and leaving, he tossed it over his shoulder over who knows where, he sure was glad he locked the office door before he went, wouldn't want that kid of his seeing the blood sprayed all over the place.

Still, now he had one more place to go for the night, meeting up with his broker, someone who would do anything for you as long as you had the money w. Giran, the man who was not interested in anyone's plans, Hawks respected that part about him, not being tied down by just one person, the same man where he got his current gear. Hawks landed on the fire escape and walked down and into Girans' place.

“Well well if it isn't my favorite feathered friend.” He said taking in a long inhale of smoke “You got blood on your cheek.”

“Ah, it's not mine.” Hawks said, “Anyway I have a request for you.”

“Haha why else would you come and see me.” he said, taking out a pack of cigarettes “Want one.”

“I'm good.” Hawks said

“You're loose.” He said, “now you said you needed something different than usual, and I'm assuming it has to do with that woman you got from HPSC?”

“It does, they took out one of her talons, so I need a proteic so she will be able to wear it and use it again.” Hawks said removing the talon and placing it on the table

“Well, well, what do we have here?” Giran asked, “The root of the tail is intact so no way is she growing that back, also interesting this isn't regular Keratin.”

“I asked you to make it usable again, not analyze it.” Hawks said

“I know a guy, What will probably happen is he will put it in a fingerless glove that wraps around her wrist, a few never receptors and when she flexes her finger then this one will pop out.” Giran explained, “Still I'm surprised you went to him for help, whatever happened to you being a lone bird.”

“Can't just leave someone out to dry.” Hawks said taking out a wad of cash “And I only went to them on a one-time deal, they have their plan I have mine.”

“Hey, it lets me make money.” He said “Come back tomorrow ill have it ready for you. One more thing, they are planning something big tomorrow so watch the news.”

“I will.” Hawks said, “Oh one more thing, do you have any medical books laying around.”

“I'm sure I can come up with something, but why do you ask?”

“A housewarming gift.” Hawks said, “make sure they are interesting, none of that fluffy shit the gritter the better.”

“...noted,” Giran said, looking a bit perplexed at his request. With that said hawks left attaching his wings and head out back to his hideout to see you lunging in his twin-sized mattress reading a magazine he had laying around

“Hey I'm back.” he said as you put your hand up and waved at him “So, how are you doing?’

“Still healing, did you finish those errands?”

“Sure did.” Hawks said “I still need to grab some grub. Do you want anything?’

“Anything will do.” you said flipping the page “Also when I saw you had a magazine that said chick weekly I wasn't expecting it to have a bunch of baby bird photos.”

“Hey, we all have our hobbies.” Hawks said take the magazine out of your hand  "And be careful this is my only copy.”

“Why do they even make magazines like this?” you asked

“Same reason there are millions of magazines for heroes, money.” Hawks said

“Do you have some weird bird fetish?” you deadpanned

“NO!” HAwks said, “where would you even get that idea!”

“That was a joke.” you said “Got pretty defensive there.”

“Find something else to read here.” Hawks said tossing you a flyer about the HPSC “You are smart enough to know that having information on your enemy is key to defeating them.”

“I already read this.” you said,” Still the fact it says we strive for a healthy relationship between the public and heros' makes me wanna barf.”

“Tell me about it.” Hawks said scratching his head “You are only allowed to your quirk for good, and the only way to use your quirk to work under them in some way, so they must be good like they haven't been brainwashing kids.”

“My dad never let me watch those PSAs about them or any advertisements that had heroes,” you said

“Well, your dad is a smart man.” Hawks said, “I mean that as soon as a kid turns 15 they can go through life-threatening training so they can work under them, and that's what they expect of them.”

“Then there is the fact that your worth is based on how powerful your quirk is.” you said getting up and walking over “and if you don't have a strong quirk you are seen as worthless.”

“Haha, we could go all night saying how horrible they are.” HAwks said giving you two quick taps on the head before stepping out “I’ll be back with some grub.”

“Okay I'll stay here,” you said and waved him off, maybe there was a more personal reason why Hawks hated them, still if he wasn't going to tell you then that was his right, still you thought at least now you wouldn't be bored, but being cooped up in a small room, wasn't exactly who you thought life on the run with a dangerous villain would be.

When Hawks came back with the food you happily indulge in as he smacked the top of an old tv, to get a signal.

“There has been an attempted break-in at U.A, the alarm system went off but there no report of suspense activity-” The reporter was saying before a scruffy looking teacher pushed the camera out of the way

“Go home.”

“Hey you can't just touch property like that, hey what are-” and it was cut off

“Gross.” Hawks said, “You know I can’t Believe they have schools for this.”

“Seems a bit excessive.” you said “you know before heroes came into view it was just the cops, can you imagine if people viewed cops and law enforcement the way they view heroes now,” you said

“I can.” Hawks said spreading his wings out “I don't like them having kids fresh out of MIddle school do training.”

“Well technically they choose this school, but on the other hand it has been installed in them to be a hero from a young age, you have seen all the toys marketed towards them, HPSC is more like a moneymaker, is that why you hate them?”

“Part of the reason, yeah.” Hawks said stealing a bite from your plate “Another part is personal, and I'm assuming it's personal for you as well.”

You looked down at your thumb and sighed “It is now, however, there is another part but it's long been forgotten to me.”

“Aww come on you can tell me.” Hawks said

“Hmmm.” you tapped your chin “well I guess there is no harm in telling you, but my mother was actually a hero but died soon after I was born.”

“Huh like during birth?” Hawks asked, you shook your head

“No, you see she had been out of commission for a while, with the whole baby thing, they were against her having me in the first place, but my mom wanted a family, so they had me and they wanted my mom to make this big come back, but she was hasn't been active for so long she died in the long of duty.”

“I can't begin to imagine the pain of knowing that.” Hawks said

“Well I never knew her, and my dad did everything he could to make me happy growing up, he explained it to me in middle school.”

“Well, you know anything about her?” Hawks asked

“My dad showed me a photo and said I'm the spitting image of her, and i got her quirk but mixed with my dads,” you said

“What's your dads' quirk?”

“Oh he is able to eject a tungsten-like material from his wrist.” you said, “my moms' talons couldn't retreat back in like mine and could chip easier.”

“Wait a second...you are the daughter of the clawed hero?” Hawks said

“That was her code name, why do you ask?” you said

“Oh, I've done research on all the past heroes who died in the line of duty.” Hawks said, “Most of the time it's, they died for the greater good, or they gave their lives for others.”

“That's adding insult to injury to their families.” You said, “Hawks, have you ever killed a hero?”

“I wouldn’t exactly call them heroes, have I killed people who got their hero listens, yes.” Hawks said, “Caught them doing something illegal, when I brought it up they said I was the villain and they were going to capture me.”

“So what exactly is your end goal here?” you asked as you finished up your meal

“To end the HPSC and their crooked practices, like abducting people and ripping their nails off.” Hawks said, “They have a firm grip on the narrative of everything, I'll get it done.” “Well can't wait to see it, it should be interesting,” you said

[redqueen-hypothesis]

thaw ➳ helios (mlqc)

➳ PAIRING: reader x helios (mlqc)

➳ WORD COUNT: 2188

➳ GENRE: injured! helios, fluff

➳ SYNOPSIS: helios breaks into and enters your house. you break into his heart in much the same fashion.

➳ REMARKS: i clearly cannot write for helios, spoilers for chapter 17+

A crash from your living room startles you awake.

Still half asleep, brain not quite running at a functional speed yet, you lie stock still in bed with the covers drawn up to your neck, staring up at the ceiling and wondering if you’d simply imagined the noise. A few seconds later, however, there’s a sound of something heavy hitting the floor outside your bedroom, a little muffled but still too loud to be anything imaginary, and goosebumps prickle down the back of your neck as you let out a little ‘eep’ of fear.

What’s happening? Had the wind from the window blown something over? Or had a burglar somehow gotten into your house? You swallow, trembling slightly at the thought as your mind runs wild with scenarios from previous crime programmes that you’ve filmed and all the cold murder cases Gavin has told you about. What if you end up a victim just like one of them?

Heart thudding wildly in your chest, part of you wants to just stay buried under the covers like this, the thick blankets at least providing you with some false sense of security, but the sheer need to know just what is happening in your house refuses to leave your mind like some sort of relentless itch. You slip out from under the covers carefully, reaching under your bed to grab the first heavy object your fingers wrap around before inching towards the bedroom door with caution in every step.

Pausing for a moment, you press your ear against the door. Completely silent.

For some reason, that just makes the trepidation all the more potent for you. Unable to take a second longer of this, your fingers wrap around the doorknob and pull delicately.

The door creaks open, alarmingly loud in the dead silence of the night. Concluding that any advantage of surprise you might have had is now flushed down the drain, you decide to throw all caution to the wind and leap out into the darkness of the living room, raising your item above your head menacingly.

“Hands up, intruder!” You yell, with as much aggression as you can muster.

No one responds.

Confused, you glance about the living room. There doesn’t seem to be anyone inside the apartment with you, and what seems to have made the earlier noise is-

“Oh no!” You yelp, dismayed. The gardenia plant Lucien had given you a few weeks ago is lying on the floor, its flowerpot cracked down the middle. The wind must have blown it over somehow, you reason with yourself as you step towards it. The weather forecast last night had predicted a possible storm with strong winds, so it’s no wonder that-

You pause midstep, a frown forming on your face.

You had closed the windows before going to bed last night precisely because you’d read the weather forecast. So if the windows were closed, how did-

You whirl around in horror, raising the object in your hands once more as realisation hits you, but it’s already too late. An arm snakes around your middle and tugs you hard against a solid chest, while a hand clamps hard around your mouth the second you try to scream for help. Flailing, you drop whatever you’d been carrying and struggle in your assailant’s grasp, and the person behind you lets out a sharp hiss of pain when your elbow strikes their side.

“Stop moving, idiot.”

Your gasp of surprise is muffled against the palm of his hand, you know this voice.

“Don’t scream,” the intruder warns lowly as he releases his grip on you. You spin around to get a look at him the second you can move, and the pale moonlight that lends an almost ethereal gleam to his silver hair confirms his identity for you in an instant.

“Helios!” His name leaves your lips in shock. You have to rub your eyes twice to make sure you’re not really dreaming, and even after you do so, you just can’t seem to find the words to ask him what he’s doing here. “You... What are you... Wha-”

“What were you even planning to do with this...” He grunts, glacial blue eyes glancing down disdainfully at the object of your choice for defense - a heavy binder of past proposals that had been rejected by Victor. In spite of the situation, you find your cheeks flushing.

“I was panicking, okay?”

Before you can find the opportunity to explain yourself, however, Helios lets out a sharp groan and sags to his knees before your eyes; you barely manage to catch him before he hits the ground hard. He’s too heavy for you to hold up in spite of your best efforts, so all you manage to do is slow his collapse to the floor. “Helios? Helios!”

“Shut up... you’re loud...” He waves off your frantic concern with one hand, but even in the dim light of the moon you can make out the faint sheen of sweat on his forehead and neck, his jaw taut and a pained glare on his face. “Just let me lie low here for a couple of hours and I’ll be out of your hair.”

Completely ignoring him, you tug at the white winter parka he usually wears to reveal the tattoo inked onto his right arm, yanking it down so that you can inspect him for injuries. Sure enough, the second you do, you catch sight of crimson staining the inside of his parka, the bloody gashes across his biceps. “You’re bleeding!”

“It’s just a scratch, nothing life threatening-” He tries to brush it off, but you’re already up and running into your kitchen to fetch a first aid kit. Helios groans in resignation as he settles against the wall, shaking his head and holding one hand to the wound at his side. “Shouldn’t have come here.”

“You shouldn’t even have gotten hurt in the first place!” You rush back to his side with a white box clasped firmly in your hands, kneeling next to him and inspecting his wound carefully, hands gentle as they probe at his side. “I can’t clean your wound properly like this... take your shirt off.”

“What.”

Too impatient to wait for him, you grab the hem of his skintight shirt and lift a pair of scissors to the material, snipping away before he can stop you. “Why is it that every time you visit, you’re hurt like this? I thought you were supposed to be some highly skilled assassin...” You mutter under your breath. Helios rolls his eyes at your words, but you can see the pain he’s trying to play off behind that indifferent facade.

“You weren’t meant to know that I was here.” He grunts, but otherwise staying still as you cut his shirt in half. This brings up conflicting emotions in you, on one hand, you’re glad that he at least trusts you enough to take care of his injuries, but you’re also upset that he’s hurt like this. “I was just going to steal your first aid supplies and patch myself up, but that stupid plant on the windowsill got in the way.”

“Don’t talk about Garda like that. Now I’m going to have to repot her... if she isn’t dead.” You scold, pulling the fabric away from his skin. Now that his shirt is off, you try the best you can to ignore the lean, defined muscles of his chest and inspect the injury where most of the blood has come from. A clean cut through skin and flesh at his side, dark red oozing slowly from it. “Oh my god, what happened?”

“None of your business-” He begins, but you uncap your bottle of hydrogen peroxide and pour it liberally on his side before he can stop you. The second the strong disinfectant hits his wound, he lets out a shout of pain, almost curling up on himself. “Ow! Fucking hell, that stings like a bitch, you-”

Your glare is about as terrifying as his. “I said, what happened.”

“... got knifed,” is all he mutters very unwillingly, but you consider that a victory, because he’s speaking to you at the very least. Resolving to be more gentle this time, you soak a cotton pad with disinfectant and proceed to dab carefully at the edges of the wound to clean off the blood and grime, brows furrowed in concentration. “I don’t suppose you’ll tell me how you got knifed in the first place?”

“No.”

You let out a sigh, shaking your head at his stony reply as you reach for the box of butterfly bandages in your first aid kit. Luckily for him, the wound doesn’t seem to be too deep after all that cleaning, and you’re not sure if you’ll do him more damage if you attempt sutures on him. “You break into my house in the middle of the night, scare me out of my wits, break my flowerpot, make me treat you... the least you could do is tell me what happened.”

“I didn’t make you treat me.” His blue eyes bore sharply into yours, a slight scowl tugging at his mouth. “Don’t expect any thanks from me, busybody. Keep your nose out of my problems next time before you get dragged into them as well. I’m not going to save you when that happens.”

“You’re as naggy as an old granny.” You hum, completely ignoring him and leaving a pat on top of his silver hair. Now that the most serious wound at his side is done, you move to cleaning the gashes on his arms, which are similarly bloody but not worryingly deep. “If you want to break into my house again, at least bring some nice food with you. I get hungry when I get woken up in the middle night.”

He glares at you. “Are you even listening to me?”

“And that’s the best I can do!” You say loudly over his words, dusting off your hands as you do a once over of his body. With no more visible wounds in sight, you gently put your hands under his arms to help haul him to his feet, even as he protests with all manner of curses and some very unsavoury remarks, before steering him to lie on the couch. “Now, Helios, we need to set some ground rules. As much as this little relationship we have is very fun and interesting-”

“We are not in any relationship!”

“–it is also very illegal! Breaking and entering is a big no-no, and it’s against the law. So, I have come up with a solution!” You turn around and rummage in a nearby cabinet for a moment, before you pull something out from the drawer and hold it up to light.

Helios squints at it, not quite understanding whatever antic you’re pulling this time. Exhaustion is tugging at his eyelids, his will to leave seeping away along with his wakefulness. Must be the blood loss. Or the comfort of your too small couch. Or maybe... just maybe, the familiar ramble of your voice. Either way, it’s not a good thing, he’d meant to make it back to headquarters before the night was over. “That’s... a key. What does that have to do with anything?”

“Exactly!” You beam brightly, opening up his hand and pressing the key into the middle of his palm. The grooves press into his skin, as if he’s holding the key to unlocking himself instead. It feels uncomfortable in his hand, but his fingers close around it on instinct. “It’s the key to my apartment. Next time, you can enter through the door, and not by less law-abiding means.”

He doesn’t tell you that he could unlock your door in a matter of seconds with the right tools. Instead, he only holds the key up, studying it wordlessly until your smile turns a little awkward. “Well, I mean, you don’t have to.” You tack on hurriedly, reaching to pluck the key from his grasp. To your surprise, however, he pulls the key out of your reach before you can so much as touch it, tucking it in the pocket of his pants.

“Your security is shitty anyway.” He says, before turning over so that you can’t see his face. Pouting a little, you stick out your tongue at him behind his back before you rise to your feet, intending to get him a blanket so that he can spend the night. Just as you’re about to step into your bedroom, however, his words stop you in your tracks.

“What do you want?”

You tilt your head back to look at him in confusion. “What do I want...?”

He glances up at you slightly, silver hair falling into icy blue eyes that seem to have just thawed ever so slightly. “For supper, you dolt.”

“Oh.” You say, and then suddenly you’re smiling so hard that your cheeks hurt. “Fried chicken.”

“So basic.” He mutters under his breath, but you only smile and throw a blanket over him.

“Goodnight, Helios.”

When you wake up the next morning, he’s already gone.

[thorne93]

The Stars Made Us (Part 31)

Prompt: In this world, you’re one of the “lucky” ones who got a soulmate, but what if the universe gives you more than you bargained for?

(Prompt challenge – You live in a world where your soulmate can write on their skin and you will get the writing on your own and vice versa. Where they can wash away the ink on their own skin, however, the writing is forever scarred onto your skin until you meet face to face)

Word Count: 2760

Warnings: angst and language throughout, death, torture,

Notes: This was supposed to be for @sorryimacrapwriter​​​​​  and their challenge like a year ago, I think? I still loved the prompt though and have been working on this story for quite some time. This aesthetic was made by @dontshootmespence​ thank you so much! Beta’d by @like-a-bag-of-potatoes​​​​​, couldn’t have done it without you, as well as @carryonmyswansong​​​​​ and @arrow-guy​​​​​ and @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo​​​​​

Also, I’ve never really liked the whole soulmate AU thing idea, but this felt so right and it was amazing to write. I hope y’all love it too!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As they walked forward, on their left, a giant window came into view. Only this window didn't look outside. It was tilted away from them at a 45 degree view. A view into what appeared to be an operating room - with you in the center on a bed. You were strapped to an odd hospital bed as you looked up, you saw them and your eyes went wide. You couldn't talk, as this woman had covered your mouth.

You wanted to tell them to get out of there. You'd only recently woke up in this room, but you didn't want them to be here. Whatever was going on, they needed to leave. 

"So lovely of you to join us," a woman's voice came over the speaker. 

"Who's there? Show yourself," Charles demanded. 

"Oh, what's the matter, Professor X? Can't stand not being able to read my mind?" the woman asked again, but this time she did step into their line of sight, right in front of your bed. She looked up at the two men.

Charles recognized her instantly. Stephen, however, did not. 

"Rebecca?" he breathed. 

"Who the hell is Rebecca?" Stephen asked, looking between Charles and Stephen. 

"Typical of the great Dr. Stephen Strange not to remember me," she said. "Just can't fit anyone but that over inflated ego in your head, can you, doc?" 

"She's an old student," Charles informed, almost to himself. 

"Ah, ah," she warned. "That's not the whole story, is it, Professor?" 

"Charles, what is she talking about?"

"Why don't you tell him? Tell them both," Rebecca urged before walking to your side of the bed. "I'll make it worth your while."

"Rebecca, let Y/N go. I don't know what you want, but you can let her go. You can have me," Charles said desperately.

"Oh, how sweet," she said with a pouting face. "I don't think so. I went through a lot of trouble to get her here. Years of watching her, watching you, watching the doc..." 

Stephen and Charles traded a look of confusion and worry. 

"Tell them about me, Professor," she encouraged. She hit a button and you began screaming through the gag she'd placed on you. 

"Alright, fuck this," Stephen said, starting to conjure a portal but nothing was happening. "I don't... I don't understand--" He looked to Rebecca in horrified confusion. 

"Oh, did I forget to mention that? Oh, yes. You can't portal your way  in here or use the mirror dimension or any of your other cute parlor tricks, Dr. Strange. And, Professor, you don't go about trying to read my mind. I reinforced this room, this whole bunker the same way Sebastian Shaw did on his submarine. You won't be able to penetrate my mind or anyone else's for that matter, so give up." 

The two men glared at her, their fear and anxiety spiking.

"Alright, what do you want?" Charles demanded. 

"What do I want? I want my life back, but you two made that beyond possible. But what you can give me now... I want to watch you two suffer. So... tell them about me, about how we met, or--" She hit a button, sending more shocks through you, causing you to scream before crying. You glared at her, wishing you could just end her right then and there. 

"Okay! Alright! I'll tell them." He sighed. "Rebecca came to me  when she was 16. She wanted to learn how to control her powers. She'd gotten into trouble with the law, and I offered to teach her. But things weren't working out well. She can clone herself, and one day, at a store, she shop lifted. It was just a few snacks, but she did it using her powers, and she used them again to evade the police until they finally caught her and brought her back to my doorstep. I tried to ask her what had made her break the law again, when she didn't give me a satisfactory answer, I just wrote it off. But she kept breaking the rules, breaking the law. One night, she came into my study. I was focused on my work so I didn't hear her thoughts..." He drifted off, his eyes cast down in shame as if he couldn't bear it. "She came in trying to seduce me. She put her hands on me, she was dressed scantily. She'd turned 18 a few months prior to this and she must've thought it would be okay to come onto me." He gave her a look of anger and rejection. "I told her I cared for her as a student and that was all. When I rejected her, she became furious. She said that I wouldn't help her better her power, that I didn't care and the school was a waste of time. Given the circumstances of trying to harass me in my office, I accessed her mind." He looked at her, as if trying to get her to remember.

"And?" Stephen urged. 

"And I didn't find a girl who wanted to learn how to control her powers, I found a girl who wanted to learn how to evolve her powers. She wanted to learn how to use them so well she'd be left undetected. She planned on moving up from stealing candy bars and chips. She had thoughts in her head of museum heists, bank robberies..." 

"I was a bad girl," Rebecca suddenly said as she began pacing.

"Is this true?" Stephen asked, looking at the woman. "You seduced your headmaster and broke the law and you're mad at him?" 

She stopped in her tracks to whip her face to Stephen. "I'm mad because I loved him. I thought he loved me. All the signs were there. Just because I wanted to do more with my power, he expelled me." 

"With every right," Charles said defensively. "You were planning on killing if you had to, just to use your powers to do harm. I never once gave you the impression that I loved you."

"Oh, don't be so innocent. I saw the way you looked at me. I saw the way you looked in my bedroom at night. You saw into my head all the fantasies I had and never approached me."

"Rebecca, I checked your room because you snuck out after curfew almost every night. I never read your mind except for the night you tried to harass me, and I never, ever, looked at you like any more than a student." 

"If that's what you want to believe."

"Wait, so you were expelled from a mutant school, what's the big deal?" Stephen asked. "That warrants abducting Y/N, hurting her?" 

"Yes, it does. Charles knew I needed help, but he wouldn't listen, he wouldn't help me."

"I tried, Rebecca, I truly did, but you insisted on breaking the law and breaking the rules." 

"You ruined my life. I could've had a good life if I'd graduated, but no, I was 18, with no high school diploma. I had to get a GED. But I tried to move on, tried to forget about how you threw me out like yesterday's garbage, so I enrolled in medical school. That's where Dr. Stephen Strange comes in. World renowned neurosurgeon." 

"I've never met you," Stephen assured with a befuddled look, shaking his head and narrowing his eyes. 

She let out a laugh, clearly humorless. "Ah, to be so easily forgettable. Not like you, Y/N." She looked back to you and hit that button on the small remote again. Your back arched off the table as you tried to move away from the shocking, but you couldn't escape it due to the restraints.

"Try to remember, doctor," she encouraged. "You wouldn't want a vegetable for a girlfriend." The shocks continued and you felt your eyes rolling back in your head from the pain. 

"I--I--I--I don't remember," he stammered, upset, trying to think. "You're not a patient, you're not a family member of a patient, you're not a student--Wait, that's it. Yes you are, or were."

"Ding, ding, ding!" she called out and the shocking stopped. You were glistening with sweat as you took your first breath that wasn't wrapped in pain. "That I was, the was is all thanks to you."

"What happened? What did you do?" Charles asked curiously.

"She was a student, a resident student of mine that had made rounds."

"And? Tell them what else I did," Rebecca urged, walking slowly again around your bed, listening. 

"She was a student, but a careless one. I'd ask her to cut right, she'd cut left. She disobeyed me almost constantly. During a procedure, I asked her to do something, and failure to do that almost costed a man his life." 

She rolled her eyes. "He was fine."

"Yes, thanks to me, not you," he said angrily, facing her through the glass that looked down into the room. "I told you to tell me exactly what you were going to do, and you didn't do it." 

"So what? No one else was doing it."

"Wrong," he deadpanned, irate. "Every one of your fellow students narrated exactly what they did during surgery. I let them make incisions, cut arteries, tie them off, because I believe the only way to learn is to do something under my strict supervision. I asked you to tell me everything you were doing, before you did it. You failed to do that time and time again. You were defiant, disobedient, and flippant. I had no choice to do what I did." 

"What did you do?" Charles asked, wondering what could be so horrible.

"I'll tell you what he did," Rebecca interjected. "He failed me on my surgical rotations. He wouldn't sign off on work I'd done. He even went to my dean and gave them a long explanation why they should expel me from the program. And being who he is... they listened." 

Charles and Stephen looked at each other.

"You two ruined my life," she all but snarled. "Now, I'm going to ruin yours. I never thought the universe could be so generous, and yet here we are. I have a 2 for 1 special. Two men, for 1 woman. You both love her so much, that much is clear. I've had the pleasure of waiting, watching. Imagine my utter delight when I find out you have the same soulmate."

"Rebecca, Rebecca, wait," Charles begged as he watched her move around the room. "Whatever you want, whatever you need, we can help you."

"The time is over for help! We are way past that! No, when I got expelled from school, again, I realized it was my life mission to destroy you two. You two who had so much. Both doctors, both living it up in fancy homes, both prestigious in your fields. You had so much and instead of helping people who needed it, you turn your back on them. You lie to them. You ruined my life. I could've had everything, but you took it away from me." 

"Rebecca, there has to be another way," Stephen's voice said. 

"No! There is no other way! In fact, I think this is the only fitting way to end things, don't you?"

"What? No, no, no, no, no," Charles began, pleading. "No, we can fix this. We'll do whatever you ask." 

She laughed callously. "That ship has sailed, Professor, but good try. A+ effort." She rounded your bed and went to a cabinet. "No, I think it's time that your life looked like mine, looked like others that you've failed. I think it's time you two lost something you loved."

"Just take us! Don't hurt her!" Charles demanded, his plea erratic and heartbreaking for you. You began crying. Not for yourself, but to see them go through this. 

"Oh, no, that'd be too easy. I don't want to kill you two. No, no, that's much too simple. I want you to watch as the one woman you love dies in front of you and your powerless. To feel that you can't do anything at all to save her, to fix your life. You'll get to know how it feels, finally. All your power, money, and status can't do anything. Fitting, seeing as all of that destroyed me." 

She smiled as she held a crystal in her hand. 

"I'd tell you to say your goodbyes, but frankly, I don't think you deserve them." She put the crystal in an odd chamber, almost like a birdcage and walked back to the back of the room and went into a smaller room, closing the door behind her. 

You started to panic, trying to get out of the restraints. Stephen and Charles looked on in complete terror. They had no idea what was about to happen.

"Goodbye, Y/N," Rebecca said before something smashed the crystal in the birdcage. A mist began to fill the room and you fought and fought against your restraints. You wished you could tell Stephen and Charles to look away. They didn't need to see this, but you couldn't say a word. Your mouth was taped shut.

A small, selfish part of you though wanted them to continue looking at you. So the last thing you would see was their eyes, albeit full of tears and anguish, they were still the gorgeous blue eyes you'd fallen for. 

You hoped and prayed that even though Charles couldn't read your mind, maybe he could read your eyes. You looked to both men and tried to convey the feelings of love and adoration that you had for them. 

All of this happened in the matter of a few seconds, before you knew it, some sort of hard substance was making its way up your body. 

You wanted to tell them you'd be okay, you wanted to make them feel better, but all they saw was you being covered in a cocoon of what appeared to be molten rock. They slammed their fists on the window, screaming your name, trying to get to you -- but it was futile.

You were covered with stone, from head to toe. You'd never see Charles and Stephen again, and the last thing you'd seen was them fighting for their life to get to you. 

But it was too late. You were gone. 

The two men, upon seeing your body covered head to toe in stone, felt their world implode. Charles screamed, incoherently as he turned around, his hands on his head. He slid down to the floor, tears running down his cheeks. 

Stephen felt cold all over, as if the whole universe just disappeared for him. He'd faced Dormammu, an entity that was going to suck Earth away, consume it. This didn't compare to that. He felt numb. He knew he should be angry, he should be crying like Charles, but all he could feel was... darkness, an emptiness inside him.

Charles didn’t know how he was going to face another day without you. How he’d face the next five minutes without you. His chest felt tight, as if he couldn’t breathe. You two were just barely starting the journey of your lives together, fully, and now you were gone. Charles couldn’t get enough of you once you met. He hated himself for ignoring you for a year, and now that was a year he’d never get back, and he hated himself all the more. A flurry of anger, heartache, regret, and grief flooded his system. He wasn’t sure he was ever going to stop sobbing. 

Stephen felt powerless, uselees. He was a doctor for God’s sakes and he couldn't save the one person who meant more to him than anyone else. He truly didn’t believe in all this soulmate nonsense when the scarring was showing up on him, but it only took a small bit of time near you to see exactly why the universe had cherry-picked you for him. You were strong enough to withstand his anger and his ego. You were gentle enough to get him to calm down and talk about things. You were funny enough to make him double over in stitches when he didn’t feel like even smiling. You were kind enough to make him want to be a better person, to save lives for more than just pomp and show. He wanted to be a good person for you, but also because of you. And now, all of that light, all of the good you did for the world and put into the world was snuffed out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[whenihaveyouromione]

When I Have You - Chapter 37

Find on Fanfiction.net and ao3.

For my other stories (which I am gradually publishing) follow @firethecanonsfanfiction

----​

Chapter 37

There was a sense of giddiness in Ron as he stared at the tiny box in the palm of his hand. He had it. He finally had the ring. And it was just as stunning as the first and only other time he’d laid eyes on it. It was the perfect choice for Hermione, and he had the special engraving on it that he really hoped would mean something to her. 

A phrase he’d lived by every day since he'd been with Hermione  — one that had helped him get over all of his doubts, all his insecurities, and wondering if he was enough for her. 

He was enough for her. She would tell him if he wasn’t.

And now that he had the ring he could finally ask her to marry him. He had it all sorted. The lake, the fireworks (George had teased him relentlessly when Ron had asked, but that was okay, because it just meant even more of George’s sense of humour was returning), the evening picnic with the wine, and the stars (he hoped) and the ring. He wasn’t even going to tell Hermione about it until the day of. Two Saturdays from now. That way she would think it was just a spur of the moment decision to go there — something that wasn’t unusual for them. Occasionally, if they had nothing better to do on a Saturday night they’d clutch hands and Disapparate to that lake just to look at the stars, or to talk, or to just enjoy one another’s company.  

He hoped to catch her completely by surprise.

But for the time being he had to keep it safe in a place where she wouldn’t find it.

He took one last longing look and then closed the box with a light snap. On the bed was another, larger box. A plain old shoe box that wouldn’t catch Hermione’s eye even if she was to see it. But still, he had protective enchantments around it just in case. 

With a smile on his lips, he placed the tiny red box into the shoe box and closed the lid. He then tapped it with his wand, and when he opened it again, it gave an illusion of a stack of Chocolate Frog cards. Hermione knew he had collected them as a kid. It was the most obvious thing to disguise it with if she ever discovered it. All she would see was a box of old Chocolate Frog cards, and that wouldn’t interest her in the slightest. 

Two weeks seemed so far off, but it was the right thing to do. Harry would be at Ginny’s Holyhead accommodation right now, preparing his dinner and his surprise. Two weeks seemed a respectable enough amount of time to wait before he intruded on their happiness. It would give everyone a chance to be excited and then forget about it. 

It was just so hard to wait. Now that he had it all planned, he wanted to do it right away. He wanted to Disapparate her to the lake tonight and take her in his arms and just declare his love for her and his desire to spend the rest of his life with her. 

He hadn’t even realised he was staring stupidly at the shoe box until the sound of footsteps at the bedroom door brought him out of his reverie. 

He spun, turning to find Hermione still in her work robes. Her hair was a little askew, which meant she’d had a busy and rather stressful day. Not unusual, even if by Ron’s standards it might have been a rather relaxed one.

She just didn’t know how to relax when it came to work. 

He held out an arm, grinning at her, and she came over, falling into his embrace. “Rough day?” he asked. 

“Just busy.” She stifled a yawn, and her eyes drifted to the shoe box on the bed. “You bought yourself some new shoes?” And before he could stop her, she leaned forward and opened the lid. 

Ron winced, momentarily worried that the spell had worn off, or he’d performed it wrong. But as the lid opened, all that he could see (and therefore all that Hermione could see) was Chocolate Frog Cards.

She smiled. “You’ve been sneaking them in without my knowledge, have you?”

“No,” Ron said, a little defensive despite himself. “Mum found them and gave them to me. They’re from when I used to collect them. She didn’t want them.”

“So that means we have to keep them?” Hermione asked.

“It’s not like they’re taking up space,” Ron said, taking his arm away from her. He opened the wardrobe and kneeled down on the floor, shoving the box right in the back. “You won’t even know it’s there.”

Hermione smiled. “Fair enough. I won’t ask. How was Harry today?”

“A mess,” Ron said, standing back up. “Panicking, sweating, fidgety. For the first time ever, I outperformed him in today’s tasks. Merlin help us on the day of his actual wedding if this is how he acts when he’s not even engaged.”

“Give him a break, Ron,” Hermione said. “Anyone would be nervous in this situation. I would be.”

Ron opened his mouth to respond, but then closed it. He watched her for a moment, resisting the urge to go and get the box out of the wardrobe and tell her exactly what was in it. “I’d be excited,” he said after a moment.

Hermione wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head against his chest. “That, too. But also nervous. It’s a big thing. Oh, I can’t wait until they announce it to everyone else. Your mum will be so thrilled.”

“Yeah,” Ron said, putting his own arms around her. “She will be.”

“You want to get dinner tonight?”

“Hm?”

“I’m far too tired from work and far too nervous for Harry to think about cooking. And you seem distracted. We can just get something. Eat it here.”

“That sounds good,” Ron said. “And afterwards, I’d really like to just cuddle you.”

Her face still pressed against his chest, Ron felt the vibrations of laughter.

“Why must you always laugh?” he said. "But when you ask, it's all adorable."

“I’m sorry,” Hermione said, lifting her head to look at him. “I wasn’t laughing at you. I was just laughing at how sweet you are." She moved her arms around his neck. "Dinner and cuddling sounds wonderful. My favourite part of the day."

Ron pulled her back against him, tightening his hold on her. "Mine too," he mumbled into her hair, knowing full well that she would be able to hear his thumping heart that was threatening to jump out.

Two weeks couldn't come fast enough. 

…

Ron didn’t sleep much that night. He just couldn’t get his plan out of his mind. Every time he started to drift off, another thought popped into his mind — something he’d forgotten, something he could maybe go without. Something that the more he thought about seemed utterly ridiculous, that she’d be more likely to laugh at him than agree to marry him. 

He rolled one way, which was facing away from Hermione, then he thought maybe if he looked at her, the right idea would pop into his head. But then he had to roll back over again because his mind would start going into overdrive. 

He stumbled into the kitchen at around seven, which — in his opinion — was far too early for a weekend morning. But Hermione was already up, and she had brewed a pot of coffee.

“Morning,” she said as Ron sat down, yawning. “You couldn’t sleep either?”

“What do you mean ‘either’?” Ron asked. “You hardly moved all night.”

“I just couldn’t get to sleep,” Hermione said, sitting opposite him with an excited grin. She slid a mug of coffee across to him, which he accepted gratefully. “I couldn’t help thinking about what was happening with Harry and Ginny. I mean, they’re probably engaged by now, and I just want to know how it went. I hope Harry didn’t mess it up.”

“Have some faith in the bloke, would you,” Ron said, smirking. “I’m sure he did just fine.”

“He was so nervous about it all.”

“He’ll be fine.” Ron took a sip of the coffee, almost gagging on it. He hadn’t expected it to be so strong.

Hermione winced. “I thought a double hit might be good this morning. Sorry, I forgot to tell you.”

Ron pushed the coffee to the side, smiling at her. “Breakfast?” he asked. 

“What’s on the menu?”

“What do you want? I’ll make it.” Ron stood up and started to rummage through the fridge. It was still a weird contraption to him, but he was getting used to it. He was starting to think his dad was right about Muggles. They had an answer for everything wizards used magic for. 

“We have eggs?” he said with his head inside the fridge. “Er… some, sausages?” He looked over his shoulder. “Bread? We really need to do some shopping. Mum’s cooking and your parents’ groceries are running out.”

“Well, why don’t we head into the city today and get some stuff?” Hermione asked. “We haven’t really ventured into Nottingham city yet. Maybe even lunch together?”

Ron set the eggs and sausages onto the bench. “I’d love that,” he said. “This is our last Saturday together for a few weeks. How many weeks do you have to work Saturday?”

“Until the law is — hopefully — passed.”

Ron grinned. “You’re working wonders in that department, you know? People are talking about it all throughout the Ministry. Dad said the whole department has never been more organised.” He cracked the eggs into a bowl and whisked them together. 

“Every department wants you,” he added.

“That’s not true,” Hermione said. 

“It is,” Ron said. “I’m going to lose my girlfriend to her work entirely. They’ll be asking you to be Head of the whole Magical Creatures department soon. The only times I’ll see you is when you come home, and you’ll be gone so early the next morning I probably won’t even be awake when you leave.”

Hermione didn’t speak. Ron set about separating the sausages, and he pointed his wand at the stove to turn it on.

“That doesn’t seem to bother you,” she said, her tone thoughtful. 

Ron shrugged, looking at what he was doing with the food.

“A while ago, you were almost ready to break up with me over it. But now, you sound —”

“I’ve grown up a little bit since then,” Ron said. “Done some thinking. Besides, before, it was you not knowing how to relax and prioritising that over all your relationships. Now, you manage to separate it all, and we still get quality time together. And this is because you’re doing such a great job, and they love you there and they have every right to love you. You’re amazing at what you do. How can I be mad at that?”

He hadn’t seen her approach him, but as he dropped the sausages into the frying pan, she spun him around and kissed him with a lot of force. 

“Careful,” Ron said, stepping away from the lit stove top. He pulled her back towards him, returning her kiss once away from the danger of an open flame. 

“Maybe we should do lunch and see a movie?” Hermione suggested. 

“I don’t mind,” Ron said, shrugging. He kissed her again. 

There was a knock at the door, and then the sound of the front door being opened and closed. 

“Hello?” It was Ginny. “We knocked this time. Are you decent?”

Hermione looked up at Ron and they both smiled at each other.

“In the kitchen!” Hermione called. 

“Still didn’t answer my question.” Ginny’s and Harry’s footsteps echoed down the hall, the pair appearing in the kitchen a moment later. 

Hermione dropped her arms from around Ron’s neck and turned to face their friends. “It’s just after seven in the morning. What brings the two of you here so early?”

Subtlety, Ron realised, was not Hermione’s strong point. Come to think of it, it probably wasn’t his either. 

Their future children were doomed. 

“Yes,” he said, turning back to check on the sausages. “Last time I checked, you needed an invitation to come over to someone’s house. Especially at this hour.”

“Oh, lighten up, would you?” Ginny said cheerfully. “There’s a reason we’re here so early.”

“I wonder what it could be,” Ron muttered, suddenly feeling irritated and he didn’t know why. It probably had something to do with the lack of sleep and what he had come to recognise as envy that everyone else’s plans were working out and his weren’t. 

He felt a kick to his leg from Hermione. 

“What’s up with him?” Ginny asked.

“He didn’t sleep well last night,” Hermione explained. “We were… thinking about you guys.”

Ron placed the eggs into the pan beside the sausages and finally turned around to look at his beaming sister and best mate, who both looked as equally happy as the other. 

“I take it everything went well?” Hermione asked, sounding excited. 

Ron glanced up and caught Harry’s eye, who gave a small nod. 

“Oh, that’s so exciting!” Hermione cried, and she hurried forward to hug both Ginny and Harry. “I’m so happy for both of you!”

“Thanks!” Ginny said. “I had a feeling you two would have known already. Harry said he told Ron about it, and of course he would have told you, Hermione.”

Charming the spoon to continue scrambling the eggs, Ron turned back to look at his sister, and smiled. “Congratulations, Gin,” he said. “I’m happy for you.”

“Thank you,” Ginny said, beaming at him. 

“Did Harry get you an engagement ring?” Hermione then asked. “I know it’s not as common in the wizarding world, but I think they’re so beautiful and really special.”

“Yep,” Ginny said, and she held out her left hand to show Hermione the ring. Ron peered over Hermione’s shoulder and was pleased to know that Harry hadn’t gone as extravagant as he had. That was something, at least.

“It’s stunning,” Hermione said. “Ohh, I’m just so excited for you. For both of you. My two best friends, getting married.”

“Want breakfast?” Ron asked, suddenly getting the feeling that his plans with Hermione were not going to happen today. Everyone — including Hermione, it seemed — was much too preoccupied to worry about lunch and a movie now. 

“If you two don’t mind?” Harry said. 

“Not at all!” Hermione exclaimed. She Summoned two chairs from the dining room into the kitchen and then got out four plates. “Ron’s cooking. He’s a good cook. Come and sit and tell me all about it.”

While Ron finished the breakfast, throwing in extra eggs and sausages to cater for their two unexpected guests, he listened to Ginny and Harry detail the events of the night before. 

It turned out Harry had really pulled through on his attempt at romance, and as Ron (and Hermione) had thought, the quiet affair had appealed to Ginny greatly. She had said yes in a heartbeat, and then they had enjoyed a nice dinner together, glad to see each other over a Quidditch weekend. 

It had been a nice surprise for Ginny to have him there. 

“Which got me thinking,” Harry said as Ron brought the food to the table. “Well, us. The whole distance thing is really tricky, and we miss each other a lot when Ginny’s away, which is like seven months of the whole year. You know I’ve never seen Grimmauld Place as a permanent spot, so with getting married and all, I think now is the perfect time to sell it.”

“Sell Grimmauld Place?” Hermione asked, shocked. “But, Harry… that’s all you have left of… Sirius.”

“I know,” Harry said. “But he hated the place, too. It’s not like it meant anything to him. And I should be able to get enough from it for us to get our own place… in Holyhead.”

“You want to move there permanently?” Hermione asked.

Harry shrugged. “Why not? Ginny’s locked to the place during the Quidditch season, and I have no such restrictions, so it’s easier for me to do it.”

“That’s so far away from everything, though,” Hermione said.

“Well, not for anyone who wants to come and visit us, is it?” Harry said. 

Hermione smiled. “I guess Grimmauld Place kind of grew on me after a few years. The two of you added a warmth to it since you’ve been living there.”

“Hey,” Ron said, reaching a hand out to touch Hermione, “not your decision, is it?”

Hermione blushed. “Right. Yes. Sorry.”

Harry laughed. “I’ll think about selling it then, alright? But for as long as Ginny is playing with the Harpies, I’ll be moving there.”

“Should we toast?” Ron asked.

“With coffee?” Ginny said. 

“Do you want some Butterbeer?” Ron replied. “I can get the Butterbeer.”

“Coffee is fine,” Hermione said, and she refilled everyone’s cups. “This is to all of us moving on with our lives, finding our way, and… for being happy.”

Ron beamed at her as she cast a glance his way. 

“Here’s to being very happy,” he said. 

And soon, he added privately, we’ll be just as happy as Harry and Ginny are now. 

[noyin]

Phone Call at 4 A.M.

Rating: G

Word Count: 1,010

Ship(s): Phoenix Wright & Miles Edgeworth (platonic)

Summary: Edgeworth wakes from his reoccurring nightmare and in distress, makes a phone call to a certain defense lawyer. (Set after “Turnabout Goodbyes” and “Rise From The Ashes”)

-----

The metal brushed his fingertips

He didn’t think- all he had was fear.

The world was blinking in his eyes.

 It felt too heavy. It didn’t fit in his hand.

He pulled his arm back and threw it.

BANG!

A scream. The world turned black.

-

The scream followed him into the waking world, but came from himself instead as he jolted awake. He sat up, clawing at the sheets, his heart racing, head pounding, lungs breathing a mile a minute, and drenched in cold sweat.

Miles thought he would have been used to those dreams by now. He also thought they wouldn’t follow him anymore, the DL-6 case. Both thoughts were wrong, it was all over, but still tormented him; he woke up every night, haunted, terrified, by the event of fifteen years ago.

Those damned memories.

He was tired. And scared. Of the late, it felt like he was remembering more and more. The haze was starting to dissipate…for better or for worse, Miles didn’t know.

Now, he sat awake in his bed that felt far too cold, his breathing still choppy and unmanageable, his heart refusing to quell. And he did as he always did—his hand shot to his phone that was by his alarm clock—4:16 a.m., it read.

He typed in the number he knew by heart already, his fingers precise despite the shake. He paused before he hit dial, he would usually come to his senses by then and forget about longing for comfort, and go back to sleep.

Of course, he never truly went back to sleep—that was almost impossible—but rested with his eyes closed in a strange limbo between consciousness and dreams, when he thought too much of memories. It was quite possibly worse than simply waiting for the sun to come up.

Miles didn’t want to do either. As childish as it was to say, he wanted a hug, a shoulder to cry on, an ear to listen.

He didn’t give himself a chance to second-guess when he hit dial.

That was a mistake. Maybe.

…

If he doesn’t pick up, I won’t try a second time.

…

Please, Wright.

…

Click.

“Hello…?”

Miles froze. He… picked up.

“This is… defense lawyer Phoenix Wright from… Wright and Co. Law Offices. I’m not… taking any cases… at the moment… it’s, uh, an inconvenient time for me right now… but-”

“Wright.” And that was all he could bring himself to say. His mouth felt dry, his throat felt tight, his heart- oh, this wasn’t a good idea.

Silence.

“… Miles?”

He tried to swallow. “Wright, I – I…”

“Is everything okay, Edgeworth?”

“I… don’t- I’m alone and I-” He inhaled. “No.”

“...” A pause. “Are you home?”

Shaky exhale. “Yes.”

“Okay.” Another pause. “I’ll be right there.”

-

Fifteen minutes.

The first five, Miles laid in his bed, phone in his trembling hand. He had called Wright and now he couldn’t do anything to stop that single-minded man. Had he made a mistake, he wondered.

The next five minutes were spent pacing aimlessly. He made it in the hall before he suddenly collapsed on his knees, sobbing incoherently.

Last five minutes, he found himself standing in the foyer downstairs. It was a mistake. Wright didn’t need to see him in such a vulnerable state of mind. Wright had already done so much for him by handling DL-6.

Miles supposed he didn’t want to feel so alone anymore.

-

Ding dong!

“Edgeworth? Edgeworth! It’s me, Phoenix!”

Rubbing his eyes and taking a deep breath, Miles opened the door. As expected, in front of him was the defense attorney, looking as if he had just rolled out of bed. His shirt was wrinkled and halfway tucked, his socks two different colors, and his hair sticking up at an awkward direction.

He wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but just seeing Wright made the tension leave his shoulders.

“I was wondering who it could have been at four-thirty in the morning,” Miles said dryly.

Wright smiled. “Sorry.”

“Come in.”

Wright walked in and Miles closed the door behind him. For a moment, both didn’t move. He could feel Wright’s dark eyes studying him, noting every minute detail. Miles couldn’t imagine he was looking his best. He kept his eyes averted, nervous of Wright’s judgment.

“What’s wrong?” Wright asked. His voice was soft. Like cotton. Warmth. “Miles?” A hand gripped his elbow and tugged.

“Hm?” Miles blinked. He hadn’t even realized he wasn’t paying attention.

“What’s wrong?” Wright repeated.

He inhaled. “I woke up from… memories…”

Wright opened his arms in invitation and Miles could do little to resist. He slumped into Wright’s arms, face buried into Wright’s shoulder.

“What happened in your nightmare?” Wright asked. “Was it… DL-6?”

Miles gripped Wright’s shirt. His eyes were blurred by tears.

“Yes,” he said, “I’m… afraid.”

The hug tightened. “Why?”

“The memories… they’re becoming so much more vivid. I thought that… after the case was finally put to rest… I’d… I’d…”

A pause.

“You’d what?”

“… nevermind,” Miles said. He began to pull away, reluctant, but Wright’s unbreakable hug held him close. He slumped back onto Wright’s shoulder, tears freely falling down his cheek. He hadn’t known how much he truly needed this.

There was another bout of silence. Miles didn’t know what to do with himself then. Any semblance of the ever composed man he was mere hours ago was absent. Wright must’ve been disgusted by his gracelessness, Miles thought, to see a man of his stature weep at something so simple as a childhood memory. How ridiculous.

Yet, Wright was there, holding him in a silent embrace, without once making a mockery of his fragility. Wright was there, all because Miles made a foolish phone call at four in the morning.

That had to count for something. Unless he was horribly mistaken, but even in such a case, Miles wouldn’t be bothered by a facade on Wright’s part.

“Wright…”

“Yes?”

“I owe you my thanks,” Miles said.

Miles could feel the smile on Wright’s face. “Anything for you, Edgeworth.”

[taraneedspizza]

okay i need to get this out there or i’ll implode

so I have a headcanon that inko midoriya was a vigilante at some point but I haven’t thought about it much until now and i am LIVING RIGHT NOW

But first a quirk explanation

Inko Midoriya

Inko has a quirk that can float small things to her and we have no idea how many things she can pull to her at once or her range of how far the objects can be from her. We don’t know much about her youth or her relationship with her husband (hisashi midoriya) so a lot is left ambiguous regarding the time before the main story takes place

Mitsuki Bakugo

Mitsuki can sweat glycerin from all over her body. glycerin is used in lotions and can moisturize your skin (explains why mitsuki looks so damn gorgeous) and can treat burns. it tastes sweet and is odorless and colorless but is flammable and, when mixed with certain chemicals, can be explosive (glycerin is used to make dynamite). We don’t know how much mitsuki can produce but maybe with enough training she could sweat a lot of it but we can’t say for sure how much

Masaru Bakugo

Masaru can sweat flammable acid from his hands but he has to sweat it out normally from moving around and stuff. It’s similar to mina’s quirk but he can’t forcibly secrete it like she can. when masaru rubs his hands together he can make explosions, and since the acid is like mina’s this acid (I would assume) can melt things too

Hisashi Midoriya

and finally, Hisashi Midoriya can breathe fire. We have no idea of the amount or range of his ability so for the sake of this headcanon that he can shoot it about 20-30 feet (6-9 meters) and can control the amount he can shoot

And now with this quirk explanation out of the way, may i present...

 My Vigilante Headcanon 

The time frame of this headcanon would be when they are all teens/young adults, so before the events of the Vigilantes series. The four of them met in high school and instantly became best friends. For some reason they got along very well despite two of them being hot-headed an the other two being more gentle, but the dynamic worked. 

One day they were hanging out and they along with some other civilians were taken hostage by some villains. all of them were bound but masaru was able to melt the zip ties around his and inko’s wrists and inko was able to discretely float a small pocket knife from one of the villains to her and freed the rest of the prisoners. Mitsuki then secreted some glycerin and threw it at the villains’ faces, (it tastes sweet, yes this is important) hisashi blew fire in their faces and knocked them out via explosion (it wasn’t that much glycerin). inko floated their weapons to her and armed all of the captives.

They fought similarly all the way out of the building they were being held in and bust out of the door just as heroes arrived on the scene. The heroes were shocked to say the least, that a couple of civilians were able to get themselves out of such a dangerous situation. They offered to have them go to a hero academy and train, but they were already almost done with school so they wouldn’t be able to. 

Later, the four realized they liked fighting for the sake of others and, mostly expressed by hisashi and mitsuki, punching jerks in the face who deserved it. They couldn’t go to a hero school since they were about to graduate so they decided to take self defense and martial arts classes, learning how to use different weapons and how to take an opponent down with just your fists. They trained their quirks in private, extending their range and overall strength of their quirks. The four of them also studied hero laws and how to work around loopholes in the laws so they wouldn’t get caught being vigilantes. (In the My Hero world, a vigilante is a civilian who uses their quirk to do hero work without a license. Basically a hero without proper paperwork or training)

By the time they were all twenty years old, they had come to the skill level of high ranking sidekicks of the top 10 pro heroes. 

Their “hero” names were reflective of both their quirks and hero gear (made for them by some dear friends of theirs who would later be the parents of Mei Hatsume) 

Inko Midoriya- Codename: Green Monarch (after he ability to make things “float like a butterfly” and her black flight suit with green monarch butterfly wings)

Mitsuki Bakugo- Codename: Sweet (after the sweet taste of her glycerin sweat and bittersweet attitude)

Masaru Bakugo- Codename: Sour (after the acid he sweats from his hands and a reference to malic acid that makes things like warhead candy sour. also cute couple names)

Hisashi Midoriya- Codename: Dragon (after his ability to breathe fire and his flight suit wings looking like dragon wings)

(ah, an unnecessary detail of their costumes and how they identified each other in a fight but hey i like details so shush) 

 Mitsuki had openings in her suit similar in concept to Aoyama in her hero costume that allowed her to collect and concentrate the glycerin so she could actively shoot it at people. Masaru had something similar but for his hands and both had weapons they could coat in their sweat to get more range. Hisashi had an extra addition to his mask that helped to concentrate his flame so that it went only in the direction he wanted. Inko had an addition to their night vision goggles/eyewear that allowed her to see in incredible detail what objects she could float and where they were located. All of them had various weapons on their person

All of them had flight suits that were color coded that would glow and adjusted to their quirks. They each had a symbol on their costume that depicted a dragon that referenced to their name(ish) 

Inko had a green fae dragon, Hisashi a red western dragon, Mitsuki had a purple amphithere, and Masaru had a yellow drake. The general symbol they shared was a four-headed multicolored hydra

The group specialized in stealth and sneak attacks by surrounding them, Inko disarming them, all of them weakening them via fisticuffs and flammable substances, and Hisashi with the finishing blow to knock them out. They would then leave the cleanup to the police but dip before they could arrive, using their wined suits to fly through the city from rooftop to rooftop. 

They never got caught but there were a few close calls. A few years later (when they were 23 judging by current ages and timeline) they decided to hang up their capes and settle down. With the rise in heroes and All Might’s influence, they didn’t need as many vigilantes running around. They had had their fun and they decided to start families of their own. And that is how it came to today.

I am beyond proud of how this came out, I’ve never fully fleshed out a headcanon like this before but I love it to death. I’ll be drawing their hero costumes soon so I’m excited for that! If anyone sees this and likes it, please feel free to input any ideas or additions to this!

Have a good day!

[itsuki-minamy]

“K SIDE: PURPLE 06”

Translation: Naru-kun Raws: Ridia

K - Side: Purple (Chapter List)

The next day.

Yukari calmly appeared on the vacant lot and asked Hase to practice.

"Please, teacher."

Hase could only scratch his head and growl, "Um.", at Yukari who said again.

He wasn't mad at Yukari. Rather, he just wondered if he was in a bad mood for Yukari. He didn't know why he adopted such a tough attitude, but Hase knows that he is a boring person. Somehow, he thinks he has touched something that should not be touched.

Hase crossed his arms.

Holding a wooden sword, Yukari stood there. The expression is a bit strained, probably because even this boy really cares about yesterday. On the other hand, Hase seemed to like the attitude of not apologizing or making an excuse. He's begging for him to teach him, but he doesn't want to give up yesterday's anger.

On the contrary, even if he pushes that anger away, this boy wants to learn the sword by himself.

Hase exhaled heavily and faced Yukari with a wooden sword in hand.

"Yukari. I'll take back what I said earlier."

Yukari blinks. Hase smiles as he holds his sword before his eyes.

"I said I was in the middle of my own training, but I wanted to see the limits of your talent. As a teacher of the Miwa Meishin style, I will teach you properly from now on."

"……"

It was the first time he saw this boy's expression overflowing with joy.

Hase felt ticklish and at the same time remembered regret for having gone away for the first time in a long time. Hase yells cheerfully, shaking thoughts from him and clutching the handle of the sword.

"Alright! Attack from anywhere!"

"Yes."

Yukari's response was calm, as if he was trying to curb the overflowing joy. However, the flames of fire in his eyes are no different than yesterday. Curiosity and passion. It seems that defeat and regret are not in Yukari's heart at all.

The flexible body jumps without hesitation and hits hard. Hase's eyes narrowed dazzlingly and met him squarely.

Truth be told, yesterday's fix was Hase's fault.

The difference in ability between Hase and Yukari is clear. He is a first-class sword master, and a beginner who has just grasped the sword. It would have been easy for Hase to get rid of Yukari without having to leave him so badly.

However, he did not do that because Hase's instinct as a swordsman seemed higher than he expected upon seeing a sword for the first time in a long time.

To put it in other words, Yukari's talent was incredible. He wanted to work as a swordsman, not as a teacher. Thus, he played a trick like taking him down with a single attack and stun him.

However, Hase is different now.

As a master he was seriously adjusting to face the swordsman Mishakuji Yukari.

As a result, what happened was that Yukari was "cut" dozens of times.

He smashed his head, penetrated between his eyebrows, cut his neck, hit his chest, slaughtered his belly, and both hands and feet were shattered.

Of course, that was not the case. Hase's wooden sword didn't even touch Yukari. Everything came to a halt in a single attack, leaving Yukari to naturally admit defeat.

Yukari squeezed his omnipotence and tried to resist. He wants to do at least one attack. Otherwise, he will want to stop using the sword. Surprisingly mature Yukari, only with a youthful spirit, boldly attacked and did everything to the max.

"Okay, that's it!"

Hase bows with the wooden sword at his waist. Sweat is slightly wetting him, and he can't even see how tired he is.

On the other hand, Mishakuji had his wooden sword against the ground for support, and he was standing there with a sigh at best.

"Uh..."

Sorry to overdo it. Yesterday, it was likely that he had hit him badly, so this time he was more careful than necessary. It may have damaged the child's self-esteem.

Hase pulled the water bottle from his chest and handed it to Yukari. Yukari leans on the wooden sword and looks him in the eye.

"Take it."

"……"

Returning something head-on, Yukari received it. In that rhythm, power is released from his waist and sticks to the spot. Sweat beading his brows, Mishakuji straightened his knees and sat down again, resting his mouth on the water bottle.

Hase does the same, after seeing Purple take a breath.

"You are bold."

With that said, Mishakuji looked mysteriously at Hase.

"But you're too bold. I'm impressed that you just drop your defenses and avoids and jump just to hit me."

"But if I don't, I couldn't manage to even attack my master."

Hase responds to Yukari's unsatisfied voice as if to remind him.

"It would not be possible to just attack. Since you are faced with a sword, the main way is to control the opponent and find the winning line. You can also sit down and look for your opponent's weaknesses, right?"

"Against an opponent you can't beat, do you mean to stay until you win?"

"Instead of a special attack prepared to smash, I still have more eyes on that."

Yukari still seems dissatisfied. Ask yourself.

"Isn't that beautiful?"

"……"

Yukari did not reply and refused. Hase crossed his arms with a "Fu."

"I really don't understand what you mean by 'beauty'. Is it more important than the outcome of a win or a loss?"

Yukari looked up and looked at Hase. No matter the technique, after practicing for a month or so, he has come to understand a bit what this kid is thinking. That is to say,

"What? Don't you get it right?"

Yukari had a bad expression on his face.

Hase was about to explode. Still, this boy's desire for "beautiful things" may not be false. He just can't put it into words.

Hase also understood that feeling. Originally he is not the one who speaks well. He takes into account what he feels, and he has spent half of his life that way.

After a while, Yukari said in a low voice.

"The sword movement you showed me that night was beautiful."

That night was when the bully who was attacking Yukari, was hit by a "quick hit". Yukari connects the words.

"I don't know how to put it. He's straight, slim, and doesn't hesitate. I might find him 'beautiful'."

Ah, Hase seemed to be good at it.

"Sure. Sword art can have the 'beauty' you say if you go all the way. I don't know if I've reached that level."

"No."

Looking at Hase, Mishakuji says in a strong tone.

"That is not the case. The technique was certainly beautiful. So…"

Having said that, Mishakuji stopped.

Hase bows his head. So…? Hase, who admits to himself and others, could not guess the words that followed.

Mishakuji looked at Hase with a kind look, but soon sighed as if he had given up. He stands up, puts the sword on his waist and thanks.

"Thanks for practicing with me today."

"Oh, also, nice to practice with you too."

Hase also hastily got up and bowed. Seeing that, Mishakuji laughed. Unable to understand the meaning of the smile, Hase scratched his head with his hand.

"Well for now, are you going home for today?"

"Before that, let's take a shower. Sayuri makes a lot of noise when I come back dirty. Would you like to eat at 'Hanawarabe' today?"

"Um, that's correct. Let's do that."

When Hase starts walking, Yukari follows him. Hase and Mishakuji went home together, with a bitter smile in their heart, saying that it was very different from yesterday.

++++++++++

Noriya Haraki was sitting in a corner of the detention center and looking at his hands.

Around the room, criminals with similar circumstances crouched in the same way. It's not a herd or a fight, and he casts a vague glance beyond the walls, ceilings, and railings. Realizing that he was definitely one of them, he clicked his tongue.

It wasn't supposed to be like this. He is not a person to be put in such a place.

It does not mean that he is not guilty. If that's the case, he has been counting it over and over again. Since he was less than 20 years old, he has been stealing and swindling. If society were to be divided back and forth, then he would definitely be a "later" resident.

Still, he feels the current treatment of him is unfair.

There are supposed to be younger people here. Young pawns, they know nothing and can be treated as convenient for the group. As a young leader, that's what these guys do here, that's the industry.

However, the "youth" are gone.

Did they turn to charcoal or ash and spread to the ground or scattered across the sky? Life and existence have disappeared without a trace.

"Tsk!"

Remembering that moment, his body trembles.

If he had returned to Takeido-cho's office at that time, he too would have disappeared from the world.

What is still burned on the back of the eyelids is bright red and black.

Kagutsu's flame that burns the night sky.

Men in black screaming frantically in that context.

Until now, he thought that he belonged to a violent organization. He thought that he was a powerful person. Most people had to resist that power. Everyone knew that they would panic and succumb to the violence that crept through the web of law.

It was sweet.

Those who belonged to the same organization as him, with high ranks and more terrifying, begged for forgiveness while crying, burned alive and stuck. He witnessed the apparition.

"Purgatory", a group of talented people with the "Red King" at the top.

Just remembering the name, he doesn't stop shaking. He knew there was an extraordinary ability to live in the underworld, but the calamity caused by "Purgatory" was a different order of magnitude. That is not a type of violence, it is "destruction".

"Purgatory" is a group of monsters that spread "destruction" on themselves.

The extraordinary idea of ​​avenging the death of his companions did not exist in his head. Everything is a potentially deadly species. Once he got a lot of money, he was going to run away somewhere.

That was…

"Damn!"

He got angry and damn his lack of luck. For those who were fed up with "Niibangai", if they were to squeeze a bit, the money to escape would have accumulated. To make money at the moment, he should have been able to wholesale some of Ajima-gumi's "assets", which are difficult to collect, and illegal "assets." That way, he could have gotten enough money to live.

It's about that kid and the giant guy. That's when he hit the ground with his fist as he cursed.

"Noriya Haraki."

Being called by his name, he suddenly raised his face. An officer was behind the iron grate.

"Get out."

"What?"

Involuntarily, he raised his eyes and said that. He has been detained now because some crimes have been revealed, but he should not have been released so soon.

To answer that question, the officer was in a clerical tone,

"A benefactor has appeared. You are released."

He wondered who he was.

Benefactor? For him now?

Confusion swirled in his head. Ajima-gumi's group should have been wiped out, but maybe there were some who survived like him. Such hope arose suddenly and he got up. He bowed and walked out the open prison door.

Accompanied by the officer, he walked down the corridor inside the police station. Meanwhile, he heard a cheerful voice from the back of the corner.

"Here, and here, and then, uh, here? No, sorry. I've never written such a document. Hahahaha."

Hearing the voice, he reflexively stopped.

"...? What's wrong? Go on."

Even if requested by the officer in charge, he remains at the scene.

Somehow, a dark premonition clung to the hope he had in his heart. He will not proceed as he is. It is much better to turn around and go back into that prison.

"Hey, come on. Go ahead!"

Still, the officer gives him a shove. He began to walk indeterminately. Like a prisoner, he climbs thirteen steps. The moment he turned the corner, he knew his intuition was correct.

The man who was writing the documents at the reception suddenly looked up and saw him.

Thread-thin eyes on the back of sunglasses. A smile that seems to stick to his mouth, and in a black suit like a undertaker.

"Ah, Noriya Haraki-san. Nice to meet you. I'm Soma Hitoshi from 'Purgatory'. If you have any questions, could you come with me?"

Saying it in a fuzzy voice, Soma set fire with the missing little finger of his left hand and lit the cigarette in his mouth.

[voiceracha]

voices | chapter one

a stray kids thriller au

genre: crime, thriller, angst

warnings: violence, mature themes & language

voices masterlist

watch the trailer here

01 | MURDER AT MIROH CAMPUS

word count: 1.6k

Wednesday, 17 June – Two weeks before

Mornings were always chilly and serene at Miroh University. The campus was large and commodious enough to hold its own little town, building a community amongst the students and staffs as if they were one big family.

There were rows of shops and cafés just on the outskirts of the campus—old fashioned with intricate designs contrasting the modern architecture of the main academic buildings. As it was a weekday, students were out and about whether on foot or on bicycles, getting to and from classes in different parts of the place. Those who were having a free time, however, could usually be found in the cafés and restaurants surrounding the area.

Inside one rather small café, with calming ambience and the pungent aroma of espresso, several students resided at round tables for two and four, either alone or with a peer. The television became background noise, hanging in one corner of the café near the entrance where everyone could see it. On one side of the place were multiple bookshelves holding a myriad of books ranging from fiction to nonfiction.

It worked as both a bookstore and a library, as one could buy the books or simply borrow it to read as they drink coffee. Some students sat there to study, and some found their escape between the shelves, reading comic books and manga during their free hours as they took breaks from the real world.

For Seo Changbin, it was his workplace.

The literature student stood behind the counter, waiting for a woman to make their payment for three thick, postgraduate physics textbooks. He smiled at her as he received the money and waved when she turned to walk out the door. The bell jingled after her, and the door closed without a sound.

Being the son of the owner, he chose to work a couple shifts at the café when he had no classes. The café was his father’s inheritance from his grandparents, and he didn’t mind managing it while his parents worked. There were two other employees, but since they currently had classes, Changbin remained alone behind the coffee machine on Wednesday mornings.

His degree course required a lot of reading, analyzing, and writing, and he could do all that from behind the counter when there were no customers to attend to. Sure, he could easily do all three at home, but he liked having the smell of coffee and the white noise of insignificant conversations floating around him as he read a dreadful Charles Dickens novel. Sometimes he wanted to hit himself in the head for choosing to study modules such as Victorian literature. What was he thinking?

Changbin sighed before going back to making coffee for himself as there were no new customers. It was 9:56 a.m., and the ones present in the café looked well occupied enough, immersed in their reading or speaking in low volumes to their friends. One of them, though, was thoroughly studying and typing away at their laptop at a table close to the counter.

Of course, it was law student Lee Minho.

For him, Changbin’s café “Streetlight” was like a second home. The table near the counter was his table, and he could always be found studying or resting there if he wasn’t out with his beloved boyfriend. It was a rare sight, seeing him without the other boy around, but they were both their own individuals who studied different things—they needed their own time and space to get work done.

“Binnie, can I have another latte please?” Minho asked, briefly looking up at Changbin who was about to pick up a novel from his stool.

“One latte coming right up.”

Changbin took a cup from beneath the counter and began making it when the news came on at ten o’clock sharp. He glanced at the TV every once in a while as he prepared Minho’s latte, just in case something important came up.

“Breaking news for the people of Miroh Campus: the murderer strikes again,” said the reporter, a man no older than twenty-five. He stood at what could clearly be seen as Pace Park, surrounding the manmade lake in front of the main building of the university. “Two bodies identified as Choi Hwa Sung and Park See Hyun were found here at the Pace Park jogging track this morning, believed to have been victims of a homicide incident last night.”

Hearing the gasps of the customers, Changbin placed Minho’s cup aside and turned the volume of the TV up for them to hear better. As the reporter continued speaking, he took the latte and brought it to his friend’s table, placing it beside his previous cup and taking a seat across from him.

“Police have arrived at the scene and the ongoing investigation will be carried out by the finest detectives of Bay 8. Sources of death have not been confirmed, but it is believed that the victims were violently beaten up to death, despite no weapons being found on the scene.”

Minho whisteled lowly as he turned away from the screen, instantly picking up his cup of hot latte and taking small sips of it.

“Who do you think did all that?”

Changbin shrugged, his eyebrows knitted together in a frown as he met his friend’s eyes.

“Honestly? I have no clue. It’s hard to tell the good guys from the bad ones these days, and the killer could be walking among us without us noticing at all.”

“Well, whoever it may be, this clearly isn’t the first time.”

Just then, the bell jingled above the main entrance and in came Hyunjin, dressed in matching black sportswear. His skin glistened with sweat, and he used the small towel around his neck to dry it.

“Look who it is,” Changbin grinned while his best friend made his way towards their table. “Where were you? It’s already ten.”

Hyunjin pulled a chair from the next vacant table and sat down between the two.

“Running, duh? Where else would I be?”

“Bro, you stink,” Minho pinched his nose dramatically.

Hyunjin only made a funny face at him in reply, sticking out his tongue. He wiped his face with the small towel while the TV behind him switched from the news to a detergent advertisement that no one cared about, so Changbin used the remote to decrease the volume once more.

“So, who do you think the murderer could be?” asked Changbin.

Neither of them noticed, but Hyunjin almost choked on his own spit and stopped his movements abruptly as soon as the words left his friend’s mouth. He felt his heart hammering in his rib cage, the sudden urge to throw up building at the back of his throat and clawing at his skin.

“Murderer?” he replied slowly, his voice barely audible. The look of confusion on his face only made Minho and Changbin chuckle, which he received with a sigh of relief.

“Oh my god, you’re clueless!” said Minho, slapping his right arm lightly. “They just informed on the news that there’s two dead bodies found at the park, where you always run at, and you don’t even know.”

“He only cares about running, Minho. He even forgot he’s supposed to meet us here forty minutes ago. Now we gotta push our meeting to another time.”

Hyunjin didn’t know why his friends sounded so calm when the news of two students being found dead just dropped on them, but he gulped and tried to put on his best nonchalant tone anyway, smiling smugly at his friends.

“Please, I’d rather run until my lungs give out then sit here and hear you two discuss your conspiracy theories.”

Changbin stood up, Minho’s previous cup of latte—now empty—in one hand.

“They’re not conspiracy theories,” he said, defensive. “They’re actual crime cases that Minho studies and I’m interested, okay?”

“Then why the hell do you need me here?” asked Hyunjin. “I’m not interested in that.”

“You’re here because you’re my best friend and I need you to back up my points against this lawyer wannabe.”

“Aw…” Minho smirked, lightly punching Hyunjin’s arm in a teasing manner. “Changbin and Hyunjin sitting in a tree—”

“You better shut the fuck up,” Changbin pointed at the older man from behind the counter, his eyes shooting daggers at the latter who was laughing in his seat.

Minho’s phone rang right then, and he excused himself to answer it.

“Must be the love of his life,” Hyunjin teased, wiggling his eyebrows at Minho.

“Shut up,” he whispered before holding his phone to his ear. “Hello?”

When he was done talking twenty seconds later, he ended the call and began gathering his books, placing them in his backpack.

“Let me guess, Master Han Jisung awaits?” Changbin raised an eyebrow, amusement glinting in his eyes.

“You know he’s gonna whoop your ass if he knows you call him that, right?”

“Not if I whoop his ass first.”

“Well, tell him I said hi,” Hyunjin said, pulling Minho’s latte towards himself since the man didn’t look like he’s gonna take it with him.

Minho nodded, “Will do. He needs help with his photography assignment on the other side of campus, and also, I’m a great model so...”

The two friends made gagging noises at him as he laughed, and they waved goodbye until Minho walked out the door, making his way towards his motorbike.

“Okay, that reminds me,” Hyunjin started whilst standing up, “I need to meet Felix and discuss about our short film, so I’ll see you later?”

Changbin pouted for a second before sighing.

“Fine, see you later. And you’re paying for Minho’s latte.”

Hyunjin groaned and gave Changbin the money while the latter laughed at him.

After giving his best friend a quick hug, Hyunjin took one step out the door, and his smile disappeared with it.

[ CHAPTER TWO ]

[apparentlynotreallyfinnish]

Experiments - Part 7

If you want to start from the beginning:

Experiments on Ao3

---

“Is that what you’re gonna wear?” Jessie’s voice stopped Rhett as he was coming down the stairs. She was sitting on the couch, frowning at Rhett. Rhett looked down at his black Mythical t-shirt and sweats. 

“What’s wrong with ‘em?” he asked, confused.

“Isn’t that a bit… casual?” 

“It’s comfy,” Rhett said with a shrug. He wasn’t sure what she was trying to imply. 

He descended the stairs and walked up to her. Jessie yanked on the hem of his t-shirt and looked at it disapprovingly. Rhett ducked down to give her a kiss which she accepted before pushing him back towards the stairs.

“Go put on that new button-up. The green one. Makes your eyes pop. And change into jeans,” she told him and turned back towards the TV.

“Um, why?” 

Jessie’s gaze returned to him and she tilted her head. “Don’t you wanna look good for him?”

Rhett’s cheeks pinkened. “He knows what I look like,” he stammered defensively, staring down at his clothes he’d just thrown on after his shower.

“More reason to put in a little extra effort,” Jessie said. “Go on now.”

Rhett trekked back upstairs and changed his clothes, feeling slightly ridiculous. They were gonna be on the floor of the house sooner or later, why bother? He stopped at the mirror before leaving the bedroom to fix his hair. A quick glance at his new outfit made him admit that Jessie was right. He looked damn good in this shirt. Looking good for Link just had never even occurred to him. Would he care? He probably wouldn’t even notice. A strange, little stab at his heart followed the thought, but he brushed it off as indigestion. 

“I’m going now,” he hollered as he grabbed his little overnight bag before heading to the front door. Jessie stopped him there to give him a hug and one more quick kiss. Rhett held her, smelling her familiar scent. She smelled like home and comfort. She was his sanctuary. And the way she was handling everything that was happening now with Link… Rhett was blown away by her kindness and ability to be so selflessly supportive. She’d even given Rhett some great pointers after he’d told her about the office blow job earlier that week.  

When she tried to step away, Rhett pulled her tighter and buried his face into the crook of her neck. 

“You okay there, big guy?” Jessie whispered, a smile coloring her voice as she gently rubbed Rhett’s hunched back.

“Yeah,” Rhett muttered. “Are you okay?”  

“What do you mean?” she asked back, clearly feigning ignorance. Rhett dragged himself away from her warmth and looked her in the eyes, once again searching for even the smallest hint of discomfort.

“You know what I mean.”

After all these years, her smile still made him feel lighter. She reached up to pinch his cheek. “Yes, I’m okay. Now go make your man happy.”

“He’s not my—”

“Go!”

She chased him out with a playful butt slap and that same smile that had made Rhett fall in love with her decades ago.

— — —

Just like two weeks ago, Link was already at the house when Rhett drove in. He parked his car, jumped out and basically jogged to the door. His heart was hammering when he walked inside and announced himself with a cheeky, “honey, I’m home!”

“In the kitchen!” Link yelled back. Rhett’s good mood immediately took a beating—Link sounded like he was in distress. Rhett dropped his bag onto the floor and rushed into the kitchen. Link was standing with his back turned and making huffs and puffs that could only be described as dad noises.

“What’s wrong?”

“This daggum bottle!” Link growled. He turned and waved a wine bottle in Rhett’s direction. The mouth and neck of the bottle were visibly scuffed.

“I didn’t realize we don’t have a corkscrew here. Shoulda bought one of those cheaper ones with the twisty corks,” Link grumbled. 

Rhett’s lips quirked into a smile and he walked up to Link. Link gave him the bottle and held out the pocket knife he’d been using to try and get it open. Rhett looked at the knife and then at Link’s hands. Link saw the glance and frowned.

“I’m fine! I can use a knife. It’s just a stupid bit for the show.”

“Mmhmm. Want me to ask Christy about that? Or your father-in-law? Gimme,” Rhett ordered, reaching for the knife. Link relinquished the weapon with a pout and hopped on the counter. He swung his legs, heels tapping lightly against the drawers as he watched Rhett work on the bottle.  

“Christy says hi,” Link said after a moment of silence.

“Hi,” Rhett grunted, trying to get the cork out. He finally had to concede that it was too mangled by Link’s attempts. “Gonna have to push it into the bottle, I think,” Rhett mused under his breath. 

“She’d been here last night. Bought new sheets for the bed. She left other things too. Like… lube and stuff.”

Rhett’s heart missed a beat as a hot wave rushed through his body and the knife slipped from his suddenly trembling hand. Link’s eyebrows rose and he smirked.

“Careful there, McLaughlin. Don’t want you falling into my arms just yet.”

Rhett let out a dry bark of a laugh. “I’m not the one that faints at the sight of blood. Ha! There!” He’d finally managed to pop the cork into the bottle. He looked down at the wine and frowned.

“Should we pour this through a sieve? There are a lot of cork pieces in there.”

“You really think we have a sieve here?” Link asked, laughing. “Just pour, we can fish the pieces out with a fork.” 

When they finally had mostly-corkless wine glasses in hand, Link smiled nervously at Rhett and clinked their glasses together.

“Dink it.”

“And sink it,” Rhett said, smiling back at him and he took a small sip. Despite the faint taste of cork, the wine was pretty good. Rhett took another sip and watched with widening eyes as Link gulped down almost half the glass in one go.

“Thirsty, huh?” Rhett teased him. Link’s cheeks flamed and he set the glass back on the counter with a resonant clink. He was still sitting on the counter, legs spread apart enough that Rhett could easily wedge himself between them. So, he did.  

Link’s Adam’s apple bobbed and his smile faltered a bit. Rhett set his wine glass on the counter next to Link’s and lifted his hand to run his fingertips along Link’s bottom lip to brush away a drop of wine. Link’s lips parted and he puffed out a small, shaky breath that jolted Rhett’s cock to life. How could something so small could be so fucking sexy, Rhett had no idea.  

Rhett’s fingers moved to trace along Link’s chin and jaw, finally ending their journey at the nape of his neck, slowly rubbing the sensitive skin at his hairline. Link shivered at the touch.

“How do you wanna do this then?” Rhett asked, voice low and gravelly.

“You know,” Link said, squirming under Rhett’s light touch. “Just… fuck me.” It was almost a plea. Almost like begging, and it made blood rush to Rhett’s dick.

“Here? Against the counter?” Rhett asked, pressing a teasing kiss against Link’s t-shirt-covered collarbone. Link gasped, possibly more at Rhett’s words than the kiss, and Rhett’s hand dropped from his neck to his lower back. A rough pull brought them chest to chest and drew a small “oh” from Link. Rhett could feel Link’s erection rubbing against his stomach. His hands were slowly moving up and down Link’s legs, his thumbs pressing into the inner thighs, fingers moving closer and closer to his bulge with each pass. Link’s eyes were closed and he was breathing through an open mouth. 

“Well?” Rhett asked, when he got no answer.

“No. Not here. Bed,” Link mumbled. Rhett tried to step away to move the night along, but Link’s hands shot up and he pulled Rhett back to him. 

“Not yet,” Link said.

“You wanna drink the rest of your wine?” Rhett asked. Link’s hands were sliding up his chest, rubbing his pecs through his shirt on the way before they ended up around his shoulders.

“No. I don’t want anymore wine. I want—”

Rhett’s hands had found a place on Link’s waist and he paused to marvel at how well they fit around him.

“You want what?” Rhett husked.

“I want you to kiss me,” Link whispered. Rhett’s gaze jumped to Link’s face. 

“What?” he asked, his mouth suddenly dry despite the just-sipped wine. Link’s eyes shone in the low light of the kitchen and he licked his lips before answering.

“Isn’t it a bit weird that we haven’t? I mean, your cock’s been in my mouth and I came inside yours, but we’ve never…” Link’s words died on his lips and he shrugged, looking embarrassed over his request.

Rhett wasn’t sure why he was so hesitant to do this. He’d come here tonight, more than ready to stick his dick inside Link’s asshole but kissing him? For some reason, that scared him more than anything.

“A little weird, yeah,” he murmured, trying to buy some time. 

Man up, McLaughlin, and kiss the guy! 

Rhett took a deep breath, readying himself. Link cupped his face and slowly ran his fingers through his beard, sending pleasant tingles down his spine and up to the crown of his head. It brought back a vivid memory of how it had felt when Link had held onto Rhett’s hair when Rhett was sucking him off at the office. The memory of Link’s cock filling his mouth combined with his proximity now was making Rhett dizzy.

“This felt pretty dang amazing down there,” Link said, tangling his fingers into Rhett’s beard and tugging it gently to pull him closer. “I wanna know how it feels up here.” 

Link’s gaze flicked from Rhett’s eyes down to his mouth and his tongue peeked between his lips to wet them. Rhett felt himself being pulled to him like they were magnetized. A small part of him feared this would change everything. Another part, a long-dormant one, whispered that deep down he’d always known this was going to happen eventually.

Rhett saw Link’s eyes widen before he closed his own and brushed their lips together. Link’s mouth opened, filling Rhett’s with the taste of wine and mint and Link. The soft touch of Link’s lips set him on fire. He was dying a slow death, scorched by the pyre of realization that this was what had been missing from his life. 

The epiphany was too much. His chest was crushing under the weight of it. Rhett had to pull away before he’d get totally consumed by it. He was thankful for the counter he could lean against because his legs had somehow turned into jello.

“Is that what you wanted?” Rhett asked, trying to pull his lips onto a casual smile. It was a shaky one at best, but maybe Link wouldn’t notice.

Link’s eyes fluttered open and he licked his lips slowly as if savoring the taste Rhett’s kiss had left there. Rhett realized he was gripping Link’s waist too hard and one by one, forced his fingers to relax.

“It was alright,” Link said, corner of his lips tugging up. “Nothing to write home about.”

Rhett scoffed. “Excuse me?”

“You call that a kiss? That’s how you kiss a cousin,” Link said, eyes twinkling with mischief. Rhett snorted.

“Wow. Your relationship with your cousins must be radically different from mine,” Rhett said, arching his brow. Link just shrugged and smiled that teasing smile of his. Rhett knew what he was doing, but it was impossible not to fall for it.

“Fine. If you think that was weak, let me show you a real kiss,” he huffed and cupped Link’s face. The flash of elation on Link’s features punched the air out of Rhett’s lungs and he had to take a deep breath before diving into another kiss.

Rhett moved in fierce and determined to kiss Link’s socks off. Their mouths slotted together and Rhett’s thumb slowly brushed along Link’s chin as he licked his way into Link’s mouth. Link’s tongue met him halfway and with soft sweeps, Rhett coaxed it into his own mouth and gave it a long, soft suck. A breathy moan rumbled out of Link’s throat and he grabbed a fistful of Rhett’s shirt to pull them closer. Link’s legs wrapped around Rhett’s hips and Rhett’s hand dropped to Link’s lower back to pull him closer to the edge of the counter. Rhett imagined that he could feel Link’s cock throbbing through his jeans, just as his was.

When they finally parted, Link was staring at him, his lips slippery and deliciously pink, eyes blown black and his whole body keening towards Rhett.

Rhett’s breath caught. Link was beautiful. He’d always been beautiful.

“How about that then?” Rhett asked, breathless. Link swallowed down hard and nodded. 

“Better,” he whispered, eyes never leaving Rhett’s lips.

“Bed?” Rhett offered with a hopeful and lust-filled voice. 

“Yeah,” Link sighed. “Let’s go.”