#because apparently this man is naked and I have literally never noticed until this moment shdjdjfjf

[fellhellion]

Sorry for the deranged bisexual posting but why you got such a tiny waist 🤨 ⁉️

[kira-fluff]

hi kira!! i'd like to request something, you know how there is only when the haikyuu boys walk in on you changing, right? but what if it where when YOU walk in on the haikyuu boys changing?

a/n: hi anon!! omg you are a GENIUS!! gold star <3 i almost feel obligated to provide photos of them shirtless but i don’t think i could bring myself to stop staring at it lol feel free to request more characters like usual! p.s. - we’re almost to 1.5k followers which is totally crazy!!! love you guys!! <3

accidentally walk in on them changing - haikyuu!!

tw: fem!reader x selected haikyuu characters, suggestive (slight nsfw), cursing, some boys being SASSY if you liked this prompt, i have haikyuu characters walking in on you changing pt.1 pt.2 pt.3

kuroo tetsuro "uhh..." you knocked, but kuroo had just gotten out of the shower and had his earbuds in, so unfortunately, he didn't hear you. and, unfortunately, you took that as a signal that it was okay to enter his room. he was just finishing wiping the back of his neck with his towel, his bicep flexing, when you entered. it took him a moment to notice your staring. you stared at him. he stared at you, eyes growing wide. he gazed down at his apparel, or rather, lack thereof. slowly, he slipped out one of his earbuds, hardly registering your audible gulp over the sound of his rapidly beating heart. you immediately slammed the door shut, shouting, "oh my god i'm so sorry!" tetsuro blinked, once more looking down, before a burning flush took over his entire body. he is so confused. knowing kuroo, he'll want to talk about it as soon as possible since communication in any of his relationships are important to him, especially when the girl he's been crushing on for years is on the line. after the confusion is cleared up, he'll hope you can look him in the eye again.. he won't be mad if you can't, though. just... if he catches you staring at his crotch one more time he might have to leave the room. man, is it hot in here.

oikawa tooru "oh my god fuCKING KNOCK?!" you and oikawa practically grew up together so it's pretty much a given that you wouldn't need to knock... right? i mean, he'd just lock the door if he was naked, right? apparently oikawa was once again on his last brain cell. you slammed the door open, declaring your presence in the most obnoxious way possible (just because you knew he hated it) only to be greeted with an extremely not-clothed tooru. it only took a second for him to start trying to throw things at you, whatever was in the nearest vicinity (which turned out to be his phone). you shielded your face more as a defense mechanism than out of politeness. the worst part is that even after you apologize, he's going to yell at you for another hour most likely about how your dirty eyes desecrated his sexy, gorgeous body. literally just tell him to shut the fuck up before i do iwa-chan will be hearing about this, just so you know. it's funny and instead of poking fun at you, iwaizumi will never let oikawa live this down. especially because, in retelling the story, oikawa can't help but hide his face in embarrassment. it's kinda cute though.

iwaizumi hajime "erm, hey.." SO awkward. can he really blaming you for staring at those abs? ugh, they're good enough to take a bite out of. you bit your lip, your brows knitting together. fuck, this man has it ALL and he's PACKING ssdfhsjkdfhksj so pardon your intrusion. your bad. if you ask to stay, he'll turn BRIGHT RED and get all flustered. it's really entertaining. but seriously, he just finished his work out and all the sweat is pouring down his body but he doesn't even smell gross like how is that fair?! in all the confusion and embarrassment he won't even ask you to leave. he'll just stare at you until you take the hint or decide to take things further (i applaud you in you're that bold). just be aware, what you've just done has uncaged an animal and putting it back in confinement will be tricky - if not impossible. hajime will literally avoid you after this. he is NOT planning on talking about this or to you ever and he's pretty sure he can't look at you again without remembering how you were biting your lip and your eyes took on a darker hue and FUCK it gives him HOPE okay?! he can't believe there's a chance you'd like him but maybe, just maybe...? he remembers sometimes how you let out a little gasp when he'd met your eyes when you'd opened that door. that gasp remains in his dreams, though under much different circumstances. circumstances that wake him up hard.

futakuchi kenji "i. will. kill. you." you have to be tough to even be friends with this motherfucker, much less the object of his affection. it definitely didn't help, though, that your defense mechanism when you witness something that makes you feel awkward is too laugh. of course, futakuchi being futakuchi thought you were laughing at HIM and so this prompted an all out war. as soon as he's slipped back on his boxers in haste, he's literally going to attack you. he grabs your wrist and pulls you into his room, slamming the door behind him. you're already back-tracking, trying to explain that you're just nervous, but he's already stalking closer toward you. of course, you're backing up. this continues until you're sprawled out on his bed and he's leaning over you, his knee in between your thighs. you gulp. he peers down at you, a glow in his chocolate brown eyes as he says, "you're going to regret laughing." it only takes a look down to call his bluff. it's pretty clear blood isn't just rushing to his ears. he's so head-over-heels for you he can't even stand it.

sakusa kiyoomi "leave before i make you leave." the fact that he even let you in his house is proof that he trusts you, but damn, even leaving the door unlocked? truth be told, the lock on the door to his bedroom has actually been broken for a week, but he didn't tell you that. the moment you're staring at his naked form, his surprised look will quickly change to a scalding glare. it's his only coping mechanism stopping him from getting completely embarrassed that basically everything is out there right now for you to see. he can't help wander in his mind to the times when he's imagined you both naked together like this. and it's already starting to piss him off. you let out a defense, "well sorry, your door was open, omi." he scoffs, covering a fist over his mouth, "whatever, just get out."

kita shinsuke "i'm-" *sigh* "...changing in here.." he really did try to tell you, he heard your footsteps coming to his door but by the time it swung open, you'd already fully met a shirtless and pant-less kita, though thankfully he'd slipped back on his boxers before you'd barged in. he couldn't help but let out a little chuckle as you squeaked out a quiet, "sorry!" before closing the door. your reaction was just so cute. with kita, he's hoping you agree that there's nothing more that needs to be said between you. he may give you a little nod or a "don't mind" hand-motion, but he won't outright talk about it. it's still embarrassing even if you were much more flustered about it than him. just promise you'll still talk to him as well, ok?

miya atsumu *trips trying to grab his towel* he acts like there's a five-second rule to seeing someone naked. it doesn't count if he's reached his towel to cover himself up before those five seconds are up, right? well, he's also a huge dumbass, so he trips over the shit he's left on his messy floor and falls. just bare ass cheeks as he lays there. no, he's not getting up. yes, he's alright. he's just gonna lay here for a while. later, when you can no longer hold your laughter in, he'll get real defensive and argue that you should've knocked louder when he obviously couldn't hear it due to his "off-key singing". that being said, he's not going to hold it against you, i mean, he can't really say "no" to you ever away. 'sumu is a mega-simp, a'ight? too bad his "cool exterior image" is gone now. not that he had that in the first place... but he doesn't need to know that.

miya osamu "you ain't gettin' a look at this for free, ya know." it's irritating how a little smirk creeps up his face like he KNOWS he's fine as fuck (which he does). you're standing there gasping for air while he's just completely unaffected! it's annoying. you scoff, turning your eyes away and letting him know that atsumu just needed him to make dinner. you were a tough one to break, but this was something you could've never prepared for. and osamu was determined to win you over however he could because, let's face it, he's crazy about you. you can't image the amount of times he's replayed the scene of you standing there with your throat bobbing up and down and mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, a heated blush igniting across your face. your eyes feasted on his body, trailing down to his thighs and dick, widening when he purposefully flexed his muscles. it was precious - like a little treasure. osamu once got a pillow to the face for "laughin' like a creep" when he was supposed to be going to sleep.

suna rintaro "are you gonna leave or should i?" sassiest mf alive istg. i don't know what you expected. suna is impossible to read so when you're standing there just... staring and his expression remains blank even as he's completely nude but not making any moves to cover himself up... well, you can't help but wonder what the hell he is thinking. just as you mutter, "leaving.." he grabs you by the arm. you tense up, turning around and meeting his gaze with your own, a questioning eyebrow raised. he cleared his throat before uttering one word - "stay." there's no need to talk after... if you weren't "a thing" before, you are now. as your lying next to him in bed, sound asleep, he's running his hands softly through your hair, thinking about how long he's been wanting this and wanting you and loving you. he's a lucky guy, what can he say? he's got you.

terushima yuji *pterodactyl screech* leave it to you and your inability to knock. you were so used to going in and out of yuji's room that by this time you assumed he'd lock the door if he was changing, right? wrong. if asked, terushima would say he'd winked and asked if you'd wanted to join him. in reality, as you stared at his long torso and the patch of hair that led down to his dick, he'd flushed, letting out a loud shriek, and hilariously attempted to cover both his unmentionables and his chest. after the fact - after a long, cold shower more likely - he's so embarrassed. he may or may not chew you out with a bright red creeping up his neck. someone help him... he's already been holding back so much and now that you've seen him like that confessing seems impossible.

[guiltysecretpasttime]

bumi + lin getting caught or how everyone found out about their relationship :-))))

Title: Discretion

Note: Here’s what I have for this particular Lin/Bumi II prompt. Hope you enjoy 😊

· Pairing: Lin/Bumi II

· One-shot, post-series AU

· Rating: Teen

-----

Bumi was whistling as the hustle and bustle around Air Temple Island continued in preparation for Varrick’s wedding. Why they allowed the wedding and the party on the island, he had no idea.

He watched the tired teenagers who were hovering excitedly around the affianced. He supposed they all deserved some sort of merrymaking after what he had dubbed in his mind as the Kuvira Incident. It also was not a bad idea to have them use this time to work out their romantic entanglements, he thought as he eyed the various couples gravitating toward each other.

It also gave him a lovely excuse to meet up with his ownromantic entanglement.

The former military man faced the city pensively.

He frowned as the water lapped against the shore. The sun continued to shine brightly even as the buildings at the island across showed devastation, some still slightly smoldering days after the attack.

The Kuvira Incident did put things into perspective.

Well, that went dark quickly.

He blinked away grim thoughts and focused instead on the fairy lights being hung around the courtyard.

As he decided earlier, they all deserve some merrymaking.

---

“What are you doing skulking around?” Bumi asked the lady in green, who was looking down at a kebab that had seemed to have displeased her.

Lin Beifong scoffed. “I am not.” And continued to examine the mystery meat on the stick.

Bumi sauntered closer to her, standing at her side, joining her quiet observation of the party. “What on earth did that kebab do to you?” He waved his free hand to said meat on a stick; his other hand occupied with helping him take a swig of whatever fruity punch Varrick was serving.

She bit it furiously while rolling her eyes. “It’s a bit tasteless, if you must know.”

Bumi bit back a laugh and just hummed.

While she could eat instant noodles as well as any cadet living off rations, Lin did have her snobby side to food when it comes to social events thrown by the upper-class.

“Then again, Varrick is tasteless when it comes to most things.” Lin added, her scowl scaring off a Nuktuk-attired waiter who had the misfortune of glancing their way to offer more refreshments.

This time, Bumi let out a laugh, earning him a smirk from the metalbender.

“Well, that’s true. Let me join you in disparaging the libation too – not a single touch of alcohol in this drink.”

They stood there, at the fringe of the party crowd for a while – he sipping the vile drink, she chewing the tough meat.

“They allowed you to wear that?”

It took Bumi a moment to understand she meant his uniform. “I am a retired commander after all.” That and because he did not want to be dressed in formal wear that was almost identical to what his brother was wearing.

Lin swallowed her food. “Hmm, I've been thinking of that too…”

“Me in a military uniform?” Bumi waggled his eyebrows and received a smack on his arm. “You in my uniform?” Another smack.

“Retiring.” She said it so quietly he thought he must have misunderstood her.

He briefly wondered what could have made her arrive at a such a life-changing decision. Then again, if that meant that she would be closer to safety than danger…

“I don’t see why not?” He tossed back with a grin, noting the veiled concern on Lin’s face, worried about his reaction. “As long as it’s what you truly want.”

Lin’s posture relaxed after that.

They continued to sip and eat in silence.

They saw Rohan running at the other side of the court, weaving through the people who were starting to go to the dance floor. Huan was noticeably dragged by Ikki to dance (“Kid takes after her mother, doesn’t she?” Bumi murmured in jest, only to get an elbow to his side as Lin shook her head.).

As people went over to the dance floor, it would not be long before someone noticed the lady beside him. Chief of Police or not, she always did strike quite a figure. Without all the armor (literally and figuratively), it could be easily argued the Lin could be approachable.

He stood closer at her side. He twitched his pinky finger to touch hers.

Her eyes darted to him.

The mood of the party was happy and hopeful. He knew this feeling. He had seen this before. The sigh of relief and desperation for something good after a long hard military campaign.

His face remained cheerful and proceeded to talk about everything and nothing.

Lin’s expression softened. “Want to leave the party?” Her pinky finger hooked around his.

“Thought you’d never ask.”

As always, Lin was the only one who saw through him.

---

Propping himself up on his elbow, Bumi watched her sleep.

Lin had always been a light-sleeper. He got that – living with a constant threat hanging at their back or having a long career that required alertness and rapid reaction time does that to you. That was why it never ceased to amaze him that the metalbender manages to have long uninterrupted sleep whenever they were together.

Spirits knew how much she deserved to sleep in.

He had sighed in relief when Lin said she had lied last night. She had not just been thinking of retiring from the police force – she had already filed her retirement to both President Raiko and headquarters. And, in true efficient Beifong fashion, she had secured approval within days. He did not think she had fully recovered and taking a break (albeit a permanent one) was more than needed.

His eyes traced the dark eye bags and pale complexion. The rebuilding efforts and the ton of work post-Kuvira Incident took a toll on her.

Her skin, already marred with various scars and marks throughout the years, was much too pale. Each imperfection was linked with a story. Each story building up to who Lin was now today.

Her ankle had a small scar, almost invisible unless you knew where to look, from her childhood escapades.

There was the jagged scar, stitches very much apparent on her calf from her earlier days as a beat officer.

A smattering of bruises at her lower back was still present, souvenir from being tossed off the colossus.

Her shoulder, while exhibiting any outer trauma, was still healing from being dislocated from the same scrimmage with death.

There were more across her body, but the most recent ones were those that hit Bumi the hardest.

He was the one who found the Beifong sisters unconscious in the arm of the mecha giant.

He had been beyond terrified until found their respective pulses.

He feared it would have been too late for him, for them. Then Lin fluttered her eyes open, and, despite her shallow breaths, managed to croak out in a less than acerbic tone to help her down.

He mused now in the pale daylight that he ought to have done something then, said something then. He decided to rectify that now.

Before he could even reach over to wake her up in that delicious manner he was planning, several loud knocks beat at his door. He subconsciously tightened his grip around Lin’s waist.

“Bumi? Bumi!” Tenzin.

“We know you’re in there.” Su. “Open up!”

Bumi threw a worried glance at Lin, but she was still asleep and simply buried her face closer to his chest, ensconced under his fluffy comforter and buried under his equally soft pillows. He leaned back and closed his eyes, willing their unwanted siblings away.

Maybe if I pretended to be asleep, they would leave us alone…

Knock-knock-knock! A pause. Knock-knock-knock-knock-knock-knock!

“Bumi!”

He closed his eyes tighter.

Knock-knock-knock!

“Wait a minute, maybe it’s unlocked anyway…”

What are they talking about?

Bumi found out soon enough when the sound of the door sliding open reached his ears.

“Bumi – I can’t find -!”

He sat up quickly, making sure Lin was comfortable and quite hidden from view.

His visitors stopped at the doorway, enough to trespass but not enough to take a full scan of the room.

“Ohhh, I’m – we’re – sorry –.” Tenzin stammered, quite apologetic for bursting in his brother’s room.

Su did not have the same misgivings. “Bumi has a lady friend!”

“He does?!” A new voice called out with shock.

Tenzin and Su, he can tolerate but having the kids over – Bumi decided he drew the line there.

Fight shock with shock.

He stood up quickly, unmindful of being seen in his birthday suit.

“Oh sweet Spirits Agni! Bumi! Cover yourself!”

“My eyesss!”

The Avatar and Bolin immediately shouted over gasps of shock.

Bumi stretched languidly, pretending that nothing was amiss. He will not be embarrassed. That was their problem, they were the ones who were invading his privacy.

To be fair, he had no issues about his nudity so it was not really a big issue. It was just that with Lin in his bed – well, the situation was a bit tricky. Fortunately, her face was still hidden under the comforter. He pulled it higher, never mind that part of her leg is still visible.

“To what do I owe this wake-up call?” Bumi scratched his beard, acting as though this was a normal occurrence. He did delight in making his brother uncomfortable. They became closer in the latter years. Old habits die hard though.

“Bumi, we apologize for barging in this morning.” Tenzin was looking over his shoulder. “But could you – at least -.” He waved at the general direction of the naked man.

Bumi took his sweet time going around the room to pull on some clean shorts.

Su took this opportunity to push out the kids out of the room, who he now saw included both pro-bending brothers, Asami, Opal, and the Avatar.

“Why is the entire cavalry here?” Bumi sauntered to the door, blocking everyone’s view of the room and angling his body to stand in the way of the bed. “What’s up?”

“It’s Lin.”

A beat.

“What about her?”

“She’s missing. I didn’t know when she went home last night.” Su wringed her hands in worry. “I called her house, no one answered. We went over and she wasn’t there.”

It annoyed Bumi how they were suddenly on Lin’s case when they barely said two words to her the night before. There was bound to be a hidden agenda to this sudden worry.

“Your sister is a grown woman and she's been taking care of herself without you lot for more than a decade now.

He scanned the faces around him.

Postures stiffened, Tenzin flinched, eyes avoided Bumi’s.

Yeah¸ that’s what I thought.

Su stomped lightly. “Regardless of that,” The woman was adamant and would not back down. “We intend to go to the station to report her missing, with or without your inputs.”

Mako looked downright uncomfortable, Bumi thought the boy genuinely cared for his mentor.

“Boy, anything you’d like to add, detective?” Bumi nodded at the firebender.

“We can’t file a missing person’s case unless the person has been missing for more than 24 hours.” Mako shifted his eyes.

“There you go. Drop the matter, Su. I’m sure Lin is fine.”

Su looked like she was about to argue and Tenzin was about to say something but Mako beat him to it.

Still not catching anyone’s eyes, Mako started. “And well, what if the Chief also had a lady friend like Bumi? Or a gentleman friend?”

Bumi almost snorted.

Gentleman friend, what?

The detective was looking ill now but props to the boy.

“Lin with a special friend is highly unlikely.” Lin’s sister said decidedly, waving off Mako’s theory.

Bumi snorted now. “Right, because you’d know, ain’t it right?”

“I don’t see why not?” Suyin frowned, crossing her arms.

Moments like this Bumi was reminded why Lin still held some form of dislike towards her sister.

Asami tried to mediate. “I don’t think Chief Beifong would appreciate her private life being discussed like this.”

Bumi knew he always liked the Sato girl, he nodded and added. “Please don’t do this to try to assuage your…guilt.”

As expected, there were reactions from Su and Tenzin.

“We are not -!”

“Nonetheless, Bumi, Lin is…” Tenzin’s words trailed off and color drained from his face as he continued to look over his brother’s shoulder.

Bumi knew the moment Tenzin realized who was in his bed. He quickly slid the door closed. He tried to meet his brother’s eye, but the man was resolutely looking away.

“Safe.” Tenzin managed to choke out. “Let’s go everyone, I’m sure Lin is very safe.”

Su turned on Tenzin, obviously shocked by his sudden change. “What are you talking about, Tenzin – we -.”

“If Bumi says Lin is okay, then she probably is.” Was the simple yet shifty response.

“But we need Lin to -!”

Opal elbowed her mother gently, asking her to drop the issue. It did not escape Bumi’s notice.

There was the hidden agenda – Su needs Lin for something.

The group scurried away as both Tenzin and Mako helped herding them away from the bedrooms.

---

Bumi figured it was too early to be dealing with anything.

He rejoined a sleeping Lin in bed, who in turn, burrowed into his side.

He will deal with the real world later. For now, he will enjoy this.

---

Ignoring Suyin who was still chattering about one thing or another (in all likelihood berating him for not supporting her call to search for her sister), Tenzin mulled over his earlier discovery.

Lin and Bumi are together.

Not just together but together – together.

He wringed with his hands as they walked to the dining hall.

How long have they been together?

He had thought that this knowledge would bother him – well, it did, he reconsidered, but not for the reasons he might have initially thought of.

It was bothering him the same way it would have bothered him to see any woman sleeping with his older brother.

He had reconciled with his siblings and the Beifongs in the recent years, but some things should have remained private between them.

Like Bumi’s sex life.

Like Lin’s sex life.

Like their sex life.

Oh, how he wished he gone back to the past few minutes when he was still blissfully unaware. Or he hoped he would have already forgotten the markings and scars on Lin’s legs in order to not have recognized her in his brother’s bed.

Ah well, Tenzin eyed Lin’s family, the Avatar, Bolin, Asami, and Mako walking beside him, here’s hoping they not find out soon.

He doubted greatly that Lin would enjoy her relationship being disclosed before she deemed it necessary.

He recalled Bumi’s stance earlier, how protective he was of an unknowing Lin.

End of the day, Tenzin just wanted both of them to find happiness. He had did them both wrong in their lifetime and was at a loss on how to rectify it. The airbender had been trying in the past years, but there was only so much he could do.

Too little, too late, he always thought.

Tenzin waved at the acolytes that were leaving the dining hall. Pema sat down beside him and smiled as she handed him the platter of food. He smiled back, thinking still how lucky he was to have her by his side.

And now, by some peculiar twist of fate, Bumi and Lin found each other.

And, if, they make each other happy and content, then, Tenzin decided then and there, he will support them in any way that he can.

---

“Bro, are you going to eat that last piece?”

Mako was shaken from his reverie. Bolin stabbed the food on his plate at his head shake.

“Are you alright, Mako?” Asami was always the sensitive and observant of the group.

The firebender tossed a look at the Avatar chatting with Bolin and Opal at the other side of the table. After making sure that they were preoccupied, he turned to Asami.

Asami raised her eyebrows at him. “Well?”

“I think I know where the chief is.” He could not help but dart a wary glance at the Beifongs. “But it’s not my place to say.” Mako quickly added.

Asami leaned back at her seat and looked at him quizzically. “How did you know where?”

Mako dropped his utensils on the plate and covered his face with his hands. He was not one of Lin’s proteges for nothing.

One of his strengths as a detective is his keen eye for detail.

And details did not evade him in that brief view of Bumi’s bedroom.

It was quite obvious to him that the strewn pieces of clothing belonged to someone he had seen in attendance in the wedding reception earlier.

And that someone is his commanding officer.

---

Said commanding officer made her presence known at the lunch table that noon, surprised at seeing everyone still on the island.

That Chief Beifong was not expecting that there were still other guests at the residential area of Air Temple Island was fairly obvious, as Bumi was walking beside her, whispering at her side with a smile.

The plan was, actually, for most of the guests to have already gone their own ways but that morning’s excursion to Republic City made everyone’s itinerary delayed and their breakfast turned into brunch.

She exchanged a look with Bumi who shrugged and tried to sit at one of the empty tables unnoticed.

Now, while Mako might have been blessed with a sense of discretion, the same cannot be expected of his brother.

This became much apparent when said brother had gaped and thoughtlessly exclaimed, “Lin! We’ve been looking for you all morning – at what corner of Air Temple Island did you sleep at? I doubt this is the walk of shame.”

This pronouncement drew the attention of everyone in the hall – attention at her (their) very late entry and at her clothes which were clearly too formal for the day.

No one dared speak up as the metalbender simply glared at the earthbender, not responding.

There was complete silence in the dining hall.

…until comprehension dawned on Suyin Beifong’s face.

Then all hell broke lose.

---end---

Note: That could have probably gone better but let me know what you think. Anon, hope that worked for you (feel free to leave a note/msg :) ) Hope everyone is doing good, at least.

[mollymauk-teafleak]

Very Okay

I was consumed with the urge to write some domestic smut so here's some soft dads Widomauk just banging it out at the end of a long week. Huge thanks to my wonderful enablers @spiky-lesbian and @minky-for-short

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Please consider leaving a comment over on Ao3!

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“...and then Una said next week she’s swimming for her Level 2 badge and she’s a little nervous, she’s got to go a whole lap. She’ll be fine, of course, but she has that whole thing about putting her head underwater so we need to make sure we keep an eye on her.”

Molly nodded, shifting so his tail wasn’t trapped under his leg, “She’ll do a wonderful job, she goes through the water like a shark. Literally, with the teeth…”

“And Trinket needs a costume put together, it’s World Book Day on Friday and apparently preschool kids have Fairy Tales as their theme? So I was thinking we could just swipe something from when your theatre group did Midsummer Night’s Dream. It’s a little short notice and I thought that would save you having to sew something new.”

“Yeah, he loves messing around back there anyway,” Molly nodded, pushing a lock of hair behind his ear, trying to angle his chest forward, “So, um…”

“Oh!” Caleb’s finger shot into the air, sending a wave of water over the edge of the tub, “Before I forget! I have to take the kittens to get their vaccinations at the vets tomorrow so if you could watch the bookstore for me, that would be such a huge help.”

“Of course baby, I can do that, but don’t you think we should maybe-”

“Thank you! I promise I’ll be super quick, I have this thing at the Academy, apparently professors are supposed to go to parties? That wasn’t on the job description-”

“Caleb,” Molly couldn’t help himself, reaching up and taking hold of his husband’s face, doing his absolute best not to laugh, “Listen, I love catching up with you but this is our date night and you were kind of about to start fucking me and it seems we’ve stalled a little? If we could get back on that, it would be great.”

Caleb took a few long, slow blinks, his eyes then travelling around him like he was only just noticing the fact that he was sharing a bathtub, naked, pressed up against his equally naked husband. Or rather, remembering that he was, it seemed like he’d been pretty into the idea when he’d been tearing Mollymauk’s clothes off and tipping him into the water.

“Oh,” his face flushed so quickly it can’t have had anything to do with the heat of the water, “I’m killing the mood, aren’t I?”

That was all of Molly’s available composure, he snorted as laughter tore it’s way out of his chest, sending his head knocking back against the rim of the tub. After a few moments, Caleb started giggling too, helplessly putting his hands over his face.

“I mean, it started well,” Molly cackled, hugging his arms around himself, as it happened sharing a tub between two people didn’t leave much water to cover you, “Y’know, growling that you were going to touch me until I screamed, that was a real good start to date night? It only went South when you started coordinating our schedules…”

Caleb groaned, tilting forward until he was resting his head on Molly’s shoulder, strands of hair falling out of his bun and drinking the water, “Sorry...There was just one thing I wanted to tell you and then it kept going.”

“It’s alright,” Molly chuckled, still cradling his head, pressing his lips to his head, “I do feel like we’ve hardly talked this week.”

“That’s just it!” Caleb sighed, melting a little in his husband’s arms, gingerly letting him take his weight, “Between the store and now me being an associate professor and you doing tech week, I feel like I only see you when I bump into you in the hallway.”

Molly had to admit he was right. Of course he was endlessly proud of his husband, the fact that he’d had the courage to even step over the threshold of the Soltryce Academy after everything he’d been through there, let alone accept a job and try and make the place better, was incredible. Making this huge step in his recovery all while maintaining the little bookstore he’d been running for the last few years, coming home tired and smiling every day, satisfied and certain of his place in the world. It was everything Molly had wanted for him.

But he couldn’t lie, he was starting to miss him.

Mollymauk smiled softly as he traced his fingers through his hair, “Well, I’m kind of glad it’s not just me who was thinking that...that’s kind of why I asked if we could make tonight a date night.”

Molly felt Caleb deflate a little in his arms, “And I turned it into some kind of press conference. I’m sorry, Mollymauk.”

Starting to purr, the tiefling’s tail found its way around Caleb’s leg, squeezing like some kind of comforting snake, “I’ll hear no apologies from you, Mr Caleb. What I wanted was to spend time with you and that’s what I’ve got. Minus clothes too, which is a nice bonus.”

Caleb made a soft, decisive noise, pulling himself back up, bracing his hands on the rim of the bath either side of Molly’s head.

“But if I went back to that whole ‘touch you until you scream’ thing? Would that be alright?” his smile turned crooked.

Molly unsuccessfully suppressed an undignified squeak of mixed shock and arousal, his smile flaring into a full blown grin.

“Oh that would be pretty okay too, yeah.”

Caleb gave one of those rough, rumbling laughs that Molly loved so much, the ones that only came out when Molly knew he was about to become the sole focus of Caleb’s not inconsiderable attention, when the brain that normally went in ten different directions and most of those on other planes of reality, was about to zero in on him and him alone.

Molly yelped as he felt surprisingly strong arms slide under him and lift him out of the water, sending rain pattering down from their bodies.

“Babe!” Molly locked his arms around his shoulders like a vice, “This is romantic and all but you’ve got skinny noodle arms!”

“Charming,” Caleb snorted, “You don’t weigh all that much, Liebling. I won’t drop you.”

Before Molly could properly address his doubt about that- he’d once watched his husband struggle for twenty minutes to open a jar of peanut butter that wasn’t even new- they were moving, water scattering generously along the hallway. Apparently lifting books all day was better for your upper body strength than Mollymauk had realised because, true to his word, Molly wasn’t dropped until he was tumbled into bed, Caleb following pretty soon after.

Eagerly he dragged him closer, pressing their lips together, barely letting a heartbeat pass before he slid his tongue across Caleb’s. He hiked his legs up around his husband’s waist like he was anchoring him there, like any bare inch between their bodies was just unbearable. Caleb’s hands felt like they were everywhere, so much so that Molly wasn’t convinced there wasn’t magic involved. Just the warm, roughened touch of his broad hands sliding across his shoulders, following the curve of his spine to press their bodies closer, kneading the softness of his thighs. Everywhere he needed him, Caleb was there and still it didn’t feel like enough.

Almost the exact moment he had that thought, he was turning, rolling, until suddenly he was on top and Caleb was grinning wickedly up at him, his normally bright blue eyes dark with want.

“Want to ride my tongue, Liebling?” he purred roughly, knowing the answer full well but still wanting to hear him say it.

Molly obliged him, whimpering, “Oh fuck yes.”

It wasn’t that people would look at Mollymauk and expect him to always prefer the dominant role in bed, he was well aware of the vibes he gave off and cultivated them carefully (though if anyone were to let their gaze linger more closely they’d notice the two fingernails on his right hand kept deliberately short). It was more that they would notice Caleb, hiding behind his hair and hunching his shoulders and never speaking above a low murmur and never imagine him as the kind of person to take control. Of anything really, let alone someone like Molly. He didn’t look like he could command a one person canoe in a swimming pool.

How little they knew.

Molly gripped the headboard so hard that the nails he did keep long and wickedly sharp bit into the wood, levering himself up a little, bracketing Caleb’s head with his knees. He hovered at first, even as his thighs trembled with anticipation, with the intense sensation of those eyes examining him meticulously. Suddenly he was incredibly aware of how wet he was, conscious of every bead of slick, every pulse of heat through him, the stiffness of his cock.

No one would look at Caleb and see a man capable of nearly making his husband come from eyes alone.

“So cruel of me to make you wait,” Caleb’s voice was a rumble in his chest, “And yet you look so beautiful when you’re desperate…”

“Caleb,” Molly whined, teeth gritted, the lightest brush of his husband’s breath enough to make him beg shamelessly, “Please.”

“My apologies,” Caleb’s accent got noticeably thicker when he was turned on, like the part of his brain usually keeping him in Common was slipping. Or perhaps he just knew it drove Molly wild, “Just admiring…”

He took hold of Molly’s thighs and pulled him down, until Molly felt the rough scrape of his beard against his flesh, the contact after so long waiting wrenching a soft cry from him. Then he felt his wizard’s lips part, his tongue, warmer, trace a teasing path between the valley of him and the cry became a throaty moan. He couldn’t help it, almost immediately he was rocking his hips, seeking more, every nerve ending screaming for it.

Caleb tapped his thigh smartly, half in warning that he hadn’t given permission, half in warning that- while drowning in him would be a rather pleasant way to go- he’d prefer not to go at all if the option was there. Molly forced himself to still, even as it made him ache between the legs, tipping his head back and taking deep, desperate gulps of air.

Back in control, Caleb rewarded him with broad, generous strokes of his tongue, keeping it flat so Molly felt every inch of it. He took his cock in his mouth, rolling it around his tongue, scraping lightly with his teeth, kissing and lapping and sucking like he was eating some fruit. Finally, he found his entrance, probing gently and then far less gently, pulling him close so he could plunge deeper.

Molly was as vocal as ever, clinging to the headboard for dear life, tail stiff and straight in the air. He’d learned, he kept his hips still but there was no need, Caleb was in control. He rocked him back and forth, using every ounce of this surprising strength, giving Mollymauk everything he needed, leaving him nothing left to take.

Molly’s frantic, formless moans and screams haphazardly threw themselves into something close to words, “Caleb, I...oh fuck, baby, I’m...gonna…”

Through the haze of it all, he felt two quick taps on his thigh, Caleb’s affirmative answer. His signal that it was okay to fall, that Caleb would catch him.

And so he did. A last scream tearing its way from his raw throat, Molly’s shoulders locked and his chin hit his chest as it all rolled through him, as it lit him up from the inside out. He couldn’t have said how long it lasted, only that when it was done with him he felt as exhausted as he ever had. Enough that when he started to sway too hard and fell, he didn’t have the strength to catch himself.

But Caleb did. Moving quickly, he sat up and wrapped his arms around his husband, snagging him before he could tumble off the bed.

“Easy there…” he panted, grinning.

Molly’s eyelids felt leaden but he couldn’t bear not to look at Caleb right now, smiling wonkily back and leaning into his embrace, “You are fucking magical.”

Caleb giggled, gently laying him down against the pillows, curling on his side beside him. The lower half of his face was shining in the low light, his smile soft and shy and sweet again. Molly reached up and laid a gentle hand on his cheek, like he was worried he would disappear if he didn’t.

Caleb caught his wrist, turning his head and pressing a kiss to his palm, “I’m right here, Liebling. I’m right here.”

Molly exhaled in gentle relief, his eyes slowly gaining focus, “You...lie next to me. Tell me everything you want to tell me, all about your day, all about...everything. I just want to listen to you. And then when my brain puts itself together it's your turn. Okay?”

Caleb nodded, eyes wide and eager and loving, “Very okay.”

[gellavonhamster]

cold weapons

Suicide Squad (2016) || Captain Boomerang/Katana || post-canon

ao3 link eng || this was first written and published on ao3 in Russian in 2017 but I didn't attempt to translate it into English back then.  

“So, what do you think of them?” Colonel Flag asks.

Tatsu puts the folder containing the rap sheet of Waylon Jones, better known as Killer Croc, on top of three other folders.

“They’re complicated,” she replies after giving it some thought.

The materials in these folders could have formed her first impression about the members of Task Force X – or, as Lawton has aptly put it, the Suicide Squad. Could have, but did not, because they were given their first task earlier than expected. Which is why she doesn’t say “villains” or “scoundrels” or “worst team imaginable” – her first impression of them was formed in combat, and then in an empty bar in Midway City where they all drank together thinking it may be the last drink in their lives. She remembers all of this and says ‘complicated’.  

“Very tactful of you,” the colonel chuckles. Then again, what kind of colonel is he now – an unwashed shirt, black circles under the eyes. Just another guy struggling with a deluge of work, a hard-hearted boss, and a troubled relationship with his girlfriend. “But yeah, they definitely aren’t simple,” continues Rick Flag, one of her few friends in the country that will never become her home, and Tatsu cannot suppress a tired smile.  

“You like them.”

“They’re… tolerable,” Rick admits, and takes another sip of coffee. Lately he seems to be living only on coffee and whiskey and the verb “must” and (so Tatsu supposes, although they don’t talk about that) the hope that June Moone, who still hasn’t fully recovered from all the horrors she’s been through, will be all right – and will stop isolating herself and avoiding him. These means for not letting yourself just fall down and never get up are far from being reliable, but Tatsu herself lives mostly on revenge and duty and, for that matter, whiskey as well, to a certain degree, so it’s not for her to judge. “Most of them, at least. All of them minus the Australian.”

“At least he’s a good fighter,” Tatsu points out. This is the only good thing she can say about Captain Boomerang with full confidence.  

“He’s not cut out for teamwork.”

“When we were fighting the Enchantress, it didn’t look to me like that.”

She does not put much meaning into these words. It’s just that at some point Captain Boomerang saved her, and she saved him – and good thing they’re even, because the last thing she needs is to owe a favour to someone so incompatible with the very concept of duty. She could have said much about the man who tried to escape at the very beginning of the mission and got a teammate killed (and for some reason stood up for El Diablo when Harley Quinn lashed out at him at the bar, and for some reason came back before the battle after trying to desert), but the only thing she’s sure of is that he’s a fine weapon; she can confirm that, being a weapon herself. At the end of the day, that is all that’s required from him.      

At the end of the day, that is all that’s required from her, too.

 ***

 It is possible that what she said about Digger Harkness sticks in Rick’s memory, because when the need to comb the area arises during the next mission, he sends the two of them to search through the same building.

“If he gets up to something, do whatever you want to him. No one’s gonna weep for him,” he flings off. This is in the heat of the moment, of course – Boomerang almost got into a fight with Killer Croc on the helicopter over some nonsense. Or rather, it was Croc that almost got into a fight with Boomerang after the latter provoked him. Complicated.  

“You heard that, darl?” Boomerang addresses her with a smile so wide as if he hasn’t heard the last remark. “I’m all yours.”

Tatsu looks the other way and pointedly takes her sword out of its sheath – not completely, just a little. No further comments follow, and they part company – Deadshot with Croc, Flag with his team of spec ops, Tatsu with Boomerang – and go on a recce.  

In the basement, they discover something that looks like a laboratory – if a place so far from being sanitary may even be called one. All their hopes to move without making a sound crumble as soon as they enter the room: the floor is covered with broken glass. Those who ran the place must have escaped in haste and couldn’t take the entire stock of the serum with them, so they opted to destroy most of it. Tatsu’s attention is immediately drawn to the object on the table in the middle of the room – a metal container with tubes going from it to several smaller vessels. She heads straight for the table, shards crunching underfoot. Boomerang follows her, apparently kicking the largest shards on purpose so that they fly in all directions.      

“Looks like a hooch still,” he comments, having come closer, and gives a whistle. “Whoa, fuck, is that blood?”

Compared to the first task of their squad, this one looks almost effortless. Two gangs, the members of one of which possess the formula of the serum that grants superpowers to those who take it. A gun battle, collateral damage, the entire district on lockdown. If a few people weren’t noticed literally floating through the sky, the police would have been handling this. But this is an emergency, which is why they’re here, and the flying gangsters aren’t flying anymore, for Lawton is an exceptionally good shot.    

As it turns out, the serum that sparked the conflict is based on metahuman blood – hardly donated voluntarily.

“I’ll contact Colonel Flag,” says Tatsu, eyes locked on the bloodied tubes, and then someone grabs her by the neck.

For the first time in her life, she really has to fight blindly – because her enemy is invisible.  

Later, when the dead bodies gradually become visible on the floor like an eerie animated movie, it turns out there were four of them. Before that, Tatsu manages to lose her sword, recapture it, almost choke when an invisible hand squeezes her neck, slash one of the attackers in half, and plunge the blade into another’s stomach. Boomerang takes care of the other two, knocking over the container in the process.    

Tatsu is listening to the silence that came after the fight, wondering if any other invisible foes are lurking around the corner, when she feels that something is wrong. Something is wrong with her – she just can't figure out what. Sometimes it happens that one feels unwell but cannot determine what exactly the problem is – she is experiencing something similar now. Until she realizes: the mask. Until she looks up and makes eye contact with Captain Boomerang, who is staring at her and grinning.  

“You lost anything, doll?” Harkness inquires innocently, with an emphasis on the last word, and his smile grows even wider and cockier.  

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. The invisible man she fought hand to hand tore off her mask, and she didn’t even notice. But her partner, blast him, did – and picked it up.  

“Give it back,” Tatsu demands, hand outstretched. She feels naked. In combat, during the mission, she is Katana, a single whole with her sword. A cold weapon. No one needs to see her face. Truly, if she was wearing only the mask and nothing else, she would have felt less exposed – all right, this is an overstatement, and she doesn’t even want to imagine such a situation. Meanwhile, Boomerang is in no hurry to return the mask.      

“What did ya call me when that fucker was about to stab me?” he asks. Tatsu clenches the sword hilt. There is no telling how many enemies drunk on the magic serum are hiding in this house, and he’s dawdling. “You said…”

Damn it, what did she say? She saw one of the invisibles creeping up on him while he was fighting another – a bloodstain was floating through the air. She shouted…

“I said ‘George’”. Isn’t your name George Harkness?”

“You bet it is. It’s just weird. Most people don’t call me George, y’know.”  

“How do they call you then?”

“Digger. Boomerang. Boomer. That Prick. All sorts of things, but never George. But you,” he winks, “can call me whatever ya want. I liked the way you say my name.”

“Give. Me. The mask.”

“And the magic word?”

“I will chop your hand off,” as a proof of her intentions, she puts the blade against his extended hand that is holding her mask. In fact, she would face no consequences for doing so. No one’s gonna weep for him.      

Harkness makes a helpless gesture and hands her the mask.

“Can’t say no to you, luv.”

The mask helps her conceal her identity, but what is more important is that it helps her conceal needless emotions. Tatsu really hopes that her facial expression isn’t giving away that she’s ill at ease now. This is a weakness; weaknesses are not to be demonstrated. She feels deeply relieved when she puts the mask back on.  

“Let’s get out of here,” she commands, turns around, and heads for the exit. Harkness trails behind.

“It ain’t fair, by the way. You know my real name, but I don’t know yours,” he muses. “Care to introduce yourself, eh?”  

He asks the same question at least three times more before they return to Belle Reve, and each time she ignores him.

 ***

 A week later, he still doesn’t know her name – but he learns something else.

They do away with the last members of the recent gang on the outskirts of the city. Both wretches have overused the unfortunate serum, in keeping with the best traditions of the clichéd movies about superheroes and supervillains that Hollywood keeps producing for some reason, even though it is more and more often possible to see nearly the same thing on the news. As a result, one of them got puffed up almost to the size of the creature that Superman died fighting, and the other couldn’t control the flames bursting from his mouth. He burned half of the shopping centre with customers, retail workers, and guards. With teenagers in the bowling alley on the second floor and children in the playroom on the first.    

Santana… wouldn’t have approved.

Both problems eliminated, they leave: the firefighters and the cops will take it from here. Flag’s spec ops stay behind, because officially it is their victory; the general public shouldn’t know about the existence of Task Force X. Through backyards, they retreat in the direction of the abandoned construction site on the other side of the street; a car has been sent to pick them up there.  

There is a workers’ trailer still standing by the construction pit. The door is not locked, and Rick, Deadshot, Croc, and Boomerang go inside. Jones’s arm is broken: his inhuman strength notwithstanding, he still was no match for his enemy – not the fire-breather, but the other one. Tatsu leaves them to figure out how to make a temporary sling, and wanders away. Not far from the trailer, a piece of tarpaulin stretched over the fence has come off, and she can see the building across the street. Tatsu sits down on the ground, puts her arms around her knees, and stares at the dandelions growing by the fence.  

In her head, flames are raging.

She doesn’t look up, neither when she hears the footsteps approaching, nor when Harkness – and it is him, no one else in the Squad reeks of the mixture of booze and cologne like that – sits down next to her and cracks open a can of beer.  

“You want some?” he nudges her. What extraordinary generosity. It is, however, perfectly possible that if she says yes, he’ll reply along the lines of “Well, then go and buy yourself some.”  

“No,” Tatsu replies without looking and, after a short pause, adds, “Thank you.”

“Are you sure?”

With a sigh, she accepts the can from his hands, and takes a sip.

“This is disgusting,” she whispers, and takes another.  

Harkness just snorts and opens another one. For a little while, they sit side by side in silence, drinking each from their own can, and study the wall opposite through the mesh of the fence – like out of a prison window. Old advertisements that are half torn off, graffiti, a writing proclaiming that life fucks us all – plenty of things to stare at to avoid looking the person next to you in the eye.  

“So what the hell happened to ya?” Boomerang asks, and suddenly she could do with some serum for invisibility or, better yet, disappearing completely. Naturally, it is a fleeting impulse; she has no right to disappear. She has obligations – towards Flag, towards Waller. Towards herself.    

“Nothing.”

“Nothing? You zoned out, Flag shouted himself hoarse before you heard him. Like you were someplace else. Didn’t ya?”  

Why do you need to know? Tatsu thinks. If she almost rushed headlong into the fire, it’s her own business. If it only seemed to her that someone was there, it’s her own business. If she’s going to see things that aren’t there for the rest of her life, it’s her own business. He shouldn't have spoken. There is something comforting about being silent together.    

“Nah, you don’t have to say if you don’t wanna,” Boomerang assents, and takes another pull on his can. “I just thought that you, well. Might wanna talk to someone.”  

And they fall silent again. Yet now Tatsu feels awkward, which makes her angry at herself. She’s not obliged to pour out her heart to anyone who shows something that looks like care.    

This silence doesn’t make it any easier.

“I have… bad memories,” she finally says. Now it won’t be as awkward: she answered his question. It won’t be, right? “About a fire”.

Harkness nods, looking at her attentively.

“Someone you knew died, aye?”

“My children,” she hears herself say, and wishes to disappear again.

“Fuck,” Boomerang says, embarrassed, and – unbelievable – looks like he actually feels bad about starting this conversation. “I’m sorry, I… well, uh, I had no idea.”  

“It’s okay,” Tatsu says mechanically. Nothing is okay: she can still see Yuki’s tear-stained face, still hear Reiko’s voice, she is still watching the flames run up the curtains that she and Maseo picked together, she is still breathing in the smoke and still cannot believe she deserves a gulp of fresh air. She should have saved them. All of them.  

Boomerang looks at her incredulously but doesn’t say anything, and bit by bit, the silence that she doesn’t want to run from returns – the kind of silence in which one is not alone.    

Then there are footsteps again, and Flag approaches them.

“There you are,” he says with relief as soon as he sees her. Rick does not let himself overstep the limits of formality – they’re on a mission, after all – but he has obviously been worried. At the sight of Harkness, he frowns warily. “You! Quit getting on her nerves.”

“Who’s gettin’ on her nerves, Colonel? I was just tryin’ to help,” Harkness protests. It appears Rick’s words have wounded him a little.  

“He was,” Tatsu says. “It’s all under control, Colonel Flag.”  

Flag shifts his gaze to her and then to Boomerang again, and nods.

“Okay. In any case… follow me. We’re leaving.”

Tatsu gives her unfinished beer to Boomerang.

“Don’t talk about this to anyone,” she tells him. This might be an order or a request; she doesn’t really know.

He nods, and she thinks absentmindedly: who would have thought this man knows how to make a solemn face.

“Thank you,” she says again, hoping that he understands that this is not just about the beer or his promise to keep his mouth shut.

***

 After a few days, Tatsu comes to visit him. In prison.

Actually, she comes to visit all of them, of course. Not more than fifteen minutes alone with each of them – Waller wouldn’t allow more. This request seems to have surprised her, but Tatsu is certain that Waller is already picturing the new threads she can use to manipulate her special operations puppets. So it is possible that one day this decision will blow up in Tatsu’s face – or in the faces of all of them. But she cannot shake off the feeling that she must do this – so that someone except Rick, who is already dealing with a lot these days, would notice in time if the inmates are treated with undeserved cruelty. So that she knows what’s on their minds, because it is safer to fight side by side with the people whose line of thought she can understand at least roughly. So that there is some kind of variety in their lives between the missions.  

This is why she visits all three of them. Killer Croc, who looks like he’s not surprised to see her in the slightest and doesn’t really seems to care that she came, but doesn’t have any issue with that either. Deadshot, who looks like he is surprised, but doesn’t seem to mind answering her questions when she notices a stack of letters in the corner and asks him how his daughter is doing. And Captain Boomerang, who, when she enters his cell, looks like he can’t figure out if he’s dreaming.

“Katana?” he frowns perplexedly. He’s stripped to his waist, so she can see a couple of fresh scars he brought back from the last mission, and he’s got a black eye – when Tatsu saw him last, he had not. Must have quarrelled with the guards again. “What are you doing here?”  

“I came to see you.”

For a moment he seems not to understand what she just said. Then he breaks into a smile – or rather a grin, wide and pleased. Very pleased.  

“Aha! Knew it would end up like this,” he pronounces in triumph.

“Like this?”

“You,” he looks like he’s just proven a theorem of immense complexity, “missed me.”  

“I haven’t missed you, Captain.”

A very, very pleased grin.

“And still you’re here.”

“I visited Deadshot and Killer Croc earlier,” Tatsu says, and sees his facial expression change instantly. Not for long: the grin is quick to return, and she wouldn’t be able to tell right away that he’s disappointed.    

“Did ya now? And how are our fellas doing? Better than me, I reckon?”

“So it would seem. Did you fight the guards?”

“Why do you care, gorgeous?”

Indeed, why does she? Most likely, he picked a fight himself – and got his just deserts.  

“Make up your mind,” Tatsu says, “if you think that I missed you or that I don’t care.”

Harkness chuckles and really seems to ponder over this for a while.

“Beats me,” he concludes at last. “Care to throw some light on it?”  

No, Tatsu thinks, I don’t get it myself and I’m not sure I want to.

Instead of answering, she comes closer to him – so close that she can smell his sweat – and studies his face. She has to look up to be able to do that, which must look comical. Then again, he’s hardly stupid enough to laugh at her height or anything else about her, especially when she’s armed and he is not.  

“You lost a tooth. What happened?”

“Didn’t get along with one of the Wall’s watchdogs.”

“You could have tried not to look for trouble for a change,” all of a sudden, Tatsu realizes that she’s mad. Really mad at him. They might get dragged to another mission this instant; whether they like it or not, they have to be in good enough shape to protect the society that the most of them have to atone before at least partially. They shouldn’t spend their energy and health on nonsense. Black eyes and knocked-out teeth are nothing, but it mustn’t come to any of them being out of action when all of them are needed. All their powers, all their skills. All the anger they should rather aim at something other than the people who can just press a certain button at any point – and dispose of the wilful weapon.

Boomerang bares his teeth – not like Croc, of course, but still threateningly. He looks dangerous now – big, sturdy, more than a head taller than her. But he still isn’t more dangerous than her – and both of them are aware of that.  

“And they could have tried,” he speaks through his teeth, “not to talk shit about my mother for a change. They wanna talk shit about me, they can knock themselves out. I’ve heard enough ‘bout myself, I don’t give a flying fuck about what else they gonna say. But they’d better leave my mother out of it.”

So that’s what it is. They have found a quick and easy way to infuriate the man who has “MUM” tattooed on his chest. In uneven letters, like a child's handwriting. Tatsu noticed that tattoo as soon as she came in but didn’t look too closely at it. Now she feels like she has the right to look, to let her gaze slip lower, at the ridiculous writing that heaves with each furious breath of his, and then to avert her eyes at once.    

“They have power, and you have nothing,” she says. “Do you enjoy being their plaything?”

“Oh, so I’m a plaything, darl? And do I have much choice who to be now? In these four walls, and,” Boomerang points at his neck, at the place where a bomb is implanted under his skin, “with this crap in my neck?”  

Tatsu looks up again, right him in the eye.

“You already know who you are,” she tells him. “You’re a weapon. Broken weapons get discarded. And you’re letting them break you.”  

He stays silent, just looks at her in an odd manner, as if she’s speaking another language but he has a vague understanding of what she’s saying and doesn’t like what he just heard – because it is the truth.

Tatsu still doesn’t understand why she cares, and with each passing minute she has less and less desire to learn why.  

“Also,” she continues, “if you call me ‘darl’ or ‘gorgeous’ one more time, you’re going to regret opening your mouth.”

“Yeah? And how should I call ya?”

“Katana.”

“What, and that’s all? Nah, we might be weapons,” and she probably ought to remind him that there is no ‘we’, but in this particular case he’s right. Perhaps that is why Tatsu feels drawn to all of them: they’re cut from the same cloth, “but we’re alive as well. So far. Seriously, what’s yer real name? You know mine.”  

“I should not disclose that.”  

“Oh, come on. Listen,” he breaks into a pleased grin again. Another theorem proven. “How about a deal? You tell me yer name, and I will try to keep my temper if anyone else decides to stir me up. What do ya think?”    

“As if you’re going to keep your word.”

Boomerang makes a show of putting his hand over his heart.

“For you, ma’am… anything.”

For you. All at once, she recalls Rick’s words: do whatever you want to him. How many minutes of the visit she has already spent on this predictably fruitless conversation?    

“My name is Tatsu Yamashiro,” she says, tired, and then he smiles – not the way he did before, but in a calmer and more sincere manner. Gratefully.

“George Harkness,” he offers her his hand with an earnest air. “Nice to meet ya.”  

Tatsu hesitantly offers him hers. Her hand looks very small and fragile against his huge paw, and he must be thinking the same because the handshake comes out very careful. He could easily break her wrist. She could easily kill him with one hand afterwards. But he holds her hand gently in his warm, pleasantly calloused palm, and Tatsu hastens to take her hand away, because this is a mistake of an even worse kind than the time he saw her without the mask.  

“So you promise not to fights the guards.”

“I promise to try,” Harkness assures, but he’s keeping one hand behind his back.

“Don’t cross your fingers,” Tatsu says sternly. Real mature.

With a sigh, Boomerang repeats his promise, this time holding his hands within her view.

“But I ain’t promisin’ not to call you gorgeous,” he declares in the end.

“You know my name now.”

“But you’re still gorgeous.”

“Time’s up!” shouts the guard outside the door, and Tatsu cannot help feeling relieved that she has to go. She doesn’t regret visiting him, but all of this is too strange and awkward, and both of them might be weapons, but her position is different from his, and it is better not to forget that.    

“Can I do anything for you?” she asks him on parting.  

“Well,” Boomerang smirks. “I don’t even know where to begin.”

“With something I would actually agree to do?”

“Come again. Will ya?” This time he isn’t flirting; this time she can feel his insecurity, even shyness. As if he doesn’t like to admit to himself that what she answers is really important to him.  

“I’ll try,” she says cautiously. She’s not going to make any promises: she asked Waller about one time only. She doubts if she’ll be allowed to visit them again – to visit him again.  

“Try,” Harkness repeats, as if weighing the word on his tongue. “This means no.”

“This means I’ll try,” Tatsu says firmly.

And she comes again in a week. And the week after next. And a week after that.  

 ***

 “Why didn’t you walk away in Midway City?” Tatsu asks him once. “When Rick broke the control panel. You left then; why did you return?”  

A lot of water has flowed under the bridge since the time Captain Boomerang dared to smart off Amanda Waller. Several successful missions, slightly more respectful attitude on his part – and his cell already bears a passing resemblance to a place for living, even if for living quite miserably. Now there is even a table, and a chair that she gets to sit on as guest privilege. Harkness is sitting on the floor opposite her. The question seems to catch him unawares, but only for a moment.    

“Huh? Why did I return? Gotta live up to my name, that’s why. Have you ever thrown a boomerang, luv?”

I’m going to throw you somewhere one day, Tatsu thinks, yet without much irritation.

“And jokes aside?”

Boomerang attempts to feign an offended sigh.

“How do ya think? Plenty of options, all right. You gonna try to guess which one?”

Tatsu frowns.

“Is this a psychoanalysis session? Were you bitten by Harley Quinn?”

“Nah, Blondie didn’t bite me, I would’ve remembered. So don’t be jealous,” his voice gets playful again, and Tatsu stifles the urge to roll her eyes. “Lookie here… suppose I suddenly realized that I can’t leave you guys! ‘Cause you’re my mates. One for all, and so on. Don’t believe me?”

“You said something about plenty of options. What are the rest of them?”

He scratches his chin thoughtfully.

“We-e-ell… the second, ‘course, is that I wanted to save the world. Not that the world smiles upon me every bloody day, but I still wanna live! And for everyone an’ their mother to know that the bastards like us can also be heroes. Don’t you like being one of the good guys, eh, Tatsu?”

“I’m not ‘one of the good guys’”, Tatsu protests. “And it’s not me that we’re talking about. Any other options?”

“There was no point in leaving. That was still gonna be the end of the world, aye? So I’d rather meet it in battle and in good company than on the run. All the same it’ll be the end. There you go.”  

He stops talking, and in the silence that falls Tatsu can hear the footsteps of the guards in the corridor. Once again she wonders what the duty attendants that monitor everything through the surveillance cameras think of their conversations. They must make for the strangest and most pointless reality show ever.  

“The third one,” she says.

Boomerang looks a bit disappointed.

“Why?”

“Not the first one, because none of us meant anything to you then. You had just met us. And it didn’t seem like you were upset about letting Slipknot down,” Tatsu explains. She doesn’t intend to offend him – she’s just saying the truth. Once, he claimed it himself that they understand each other – here’s some understanding, he’s welcome. “Not the second one either, because you’re not stupid – no, stop smiling. You never believed that if people like us stop the Enchantress, someone would learn about that. Only the third option remains.”  

Harkness nods slowly.

“Yeah,” he agrees, and his eyes turn pensive, abstracted, as if he is there again, in the night city frozen in anticipation of the apocalypse. As if he sees himself – and makes a choice once again. “And that’s what happened in the end, didn’t it?”

“So the third option, then?”

“So it is.”

But something in his face makes Tatsu think that he was hoping for a different answer.

***

 Time flies; weeks and months go by. Tatsu spends them fighting, spilling someone else’s blood, occasionally drinking with Flag at a bar or in his apartment – a bachelor’s home again; reading books – most of the plots seem too naïve and unimaginative compared to what goes on in her life, and that is even for the best, and visiting the members of the Suicide Squad in Belle Reve. Some people go clubbing Friday evenings, and she goes to prison Friday afternoons.  

“Don’t get attached to them,” Rick scolds her.

“That is rich coming from you,” Tatsu replies, and he has enough self-awareness not to argue. Lest he gets offended, she chooses not to tell him that sometimes she and Lawton talk a little about him good-naturedly behind his back.

During one of her visits, Harkness raises a topic she has totally forgotten about.

“Hey, come to think of it, we never had that drink,” he points out. Tatsu doesn’t understand what he’s talking about, and it must be written all over her face, because he continues. “Remember I asked you out for a drink? In Midway City, before we fought the witch.”  

Tatsu has to make an effort to remember: indeed, he said something of the sort, but it never occurred to her to take those words seriously.

“We had a drink,” she counters. “When… when you shared your beer with me.”  

He shakes his head, dissatisfied.

“At the construction site? That’s bollocks. I’m talking a proper bar… nah, a restaurant! With crystal glasses an’ candles an’ shit… Like normal people.”  

“Candles,” Tatsu mumbles. She tries to imagine the two of them at the table at a restaurant; the picture turns out pretty absurd. On the other hand, a lot of what has happened in her life during the past few years can be deemed absurd.

“Yeah. Candles,” echoes Harkness, and continues with a crooked smile, “well, that’s me jokin’ around. In the near future,” he gestures in the direction of the small barred window of his cell, “I won’t be able to take you even to a fucking McDonald’s.”  

They don’t talk about the hypothetical dinners at a restaurant anymore, but the absurd picture stays with Tatsu, who still feels somehow indebted to Boomerang – for no reason, as she keeps telling herself – for that conversation at the construction site. She doesn’t like to feel the weight of unpaid debts on her shoulders – yes, that’s what it is about.

One day, she finds a way to pay that debt back.

 ***

 She waits for him in the car outside the prison gate. She hears him first; she cannot make out what exactly he is yelling at the guards, but that surely isn’t ‘good evening’. Then the door of the jeep is open, and someone must have kicked him in the rear because he literally falls into the car. Tatsu shrinks back on instinct.  

Then Harkness looks up – and notices her.

“Katana?.. Hey, what the hell’s going on? They didn’t let me take the boomerangs, didn’t let me take anything…”

“Close the door,” Tatsu tells him, and when he, still confused, obeys, tells the driver, “Let’s go.”

The car pulls away.

“I still don’t get what’s happening,” Harkness reminds her. “Sure, I’m happy to see ya, but… you weren’t ordered to take me to the woods and finish me off under the radar, huh?”  

“If Waller wanted to get rid of you, she would have had you killed in your own cell, and that’s all.”

“Wow, thanks for honesty. So where are we going?”

“To a restaurant,” Tatsu says, and turns away. Yet again it crosses her mind that it is a terrible idea.

“A restaurant?” Harkness drawls quizzically.

“As far as I recall, you said that the beer at the construction site is ‘bollocks’.”  

She should turn back to him, of course. The problem is that Tatsu is ninety-nine per cent sure that if she meets his eye now, she will blush. And she is by no means going to give him any sign that might be interpreted as taking an interest… of a certain kind. She has already blundered more than a few times.  

Therefore she stubbornly keeps looking out of the window. Then again, she doesn’t even need to look to picture how his facial expression is changing now; she’s seen this rakish grin enough times.  

“Holy cow. Tatsu, are you serious? We’re really just going to a restaurant? We’re getting outta this shithole where they only give us porridge with rat crap to gorge ourselves on lobsters and drink wine? Oh, fuck me sideways,” in the end, she turns to him and sees him throw back his head and burst into laughter, narrowing his eyes happily. “I’ll be damned! Am I dreaming? I must be dreaming. Pinch me.”    

“I can assure you you’re not,” Tatsu says, and realizes that she is also starting to smile despite herself. She has visited him and the others in Belle Reve often enough to know that porridge with rat crap, unfortunately, is far from being just a figure of speech. After such a diet, a meal at a restaurant must seem like the pinnacle of happiness.    

Boomerang shakes his head, apparently still unable to believe her.

“Holy fucking shit. How did you do that? How do you even do all that? I’ve told ya you’re unreal, have I?”

“Yes, you have,” Tatsu confirms patiently. And more than once – too often for her to attach great importance to it, too fervently for it not to please her at all. “Let’s put it that way: this is Waller paying me for a… favour.”  

“A favour, then. I take it a lot of some poor suckers died?”

“No,” she shakes her head. And it is true – but there still was a lot of blood. Both the man Waller indicated and his bodyguards turned out to be worthy adversaries. The whole thing went not as smoothly as she wanted it to – not that she wanted to; not that she would kill another person she knows nothing about if she could help it. Nothing to assure her: this one deserves it. Everything turned out rather… nasty. She had to burn the bodies. Then she got home in a haze, tended to a couple of fresh wounds – or rather, just scratches. And then she went to the bathroom and spent a long time soaping herself, as if the invisible filth that bothered her the most could be washed off with shower gel.    

Afterwards, she rummaged through her modest wardrobe and dug out the only dress she has about in America. Nothing special: wine red, below the knee length, sleeveless but with a pretty high neckline – very demure. The first and so far the last dress she bought after… after. If she and Rick didn’t have to accompany Amanda Waller to some event once, she wouldn’t have bought this one either. She put it on, combed her hair, still wet after the shower, with her fingers, looked at herself in the mirror – and flew into a rage, pulled off the dress, and could barely stop herself from tearing it to shreds. Restaurant or not, what does it matter? The last thing she needs is for him to think she dressed up for him.      

So the situation might be a little less absurd than it could have been. Both of them look like they’re going on another mission with the others, only she isn’t wearing her mask – he has already seen her face anyway – and he isn’t wearing his ever-present coat. It is no wonder he wasn’t allowed to take it – Waller wasn’t going to let him out of Belle Reve armed, and to let him wear his coat would probably be as unwise as to hand him all his boomerangs. Tatsu has no doubt that everyone and their dog have already searched through the personal belongings of the Squad, but she wouldn’t be surprised to learn that somewhere in his inside pockets Harkness has as many boomerangs as he is listed as having officially. She witnessed this man produce from his bosom at least four different lighters, a massive stack of dollars, a pocket knife, small binoculars, flat-nose pliers, and a toy unicorn. She has to admit: sometimes she doesn’t understand how he even does all that either.    

It appears that the thoughts of Captain Boomerang also turn to the contents of his pockets.

“Hey, how the hell are we affording this, though? Make no mistake, I’d stand treat, but my stash is in the coat, and these assholes didn’t let me take it, y’know.”    

“Don’t worry about that. Waller is paying for everything,” she explains, unable to suppress a grin, because this part, possibly the most unbelievable part of the entire affair, gives her a sort of silly, spiteful joy. Task Force X is a comparatively recent project, but they’ve already cleaned up so much mess for Amanda Waller that Heracles and his labours don’t even come close. A dinner at a restaurant is the least thing she could offer them. So when Boomerang explodes with laughter and gives her a conspiratorial wink, she looks him right in the eye and smiles. Another mistake. Then again, this is not the first time they share a secret.

He puts his hand on her knee, and she shakes it off immediately; this is way too far.

“I see you took your sword with ya,” Harkness observes, not giving any sign that something didn’t go the way he wanted.

“I am to keep an eye on you.”

“Yeah. How about…” he leans in closer, and the smell of cologne blasts up Tatsu’s nose. She can only hope it is due to external use only, “we chop off his head,” he nods at the driver, “and drive the fuck away from this? Huh?”    

The driver, who can definitely hear everything, doesn’t turn, but Tatsu notices him tense up.

“You’re kidding,” she says dryly. He may be, or he may be not – with Digger Harkness, one cannot always tell.

“Why kidding, doll? Zip, and done. There’s no way you enjoy working for Waller.”  

“I do not. But if you pull some stunt,” Tatsu feels for the sword hilt, and Boomerang sees that – very well, it is good for him to see that, “I will chop your head off. I really hope it won’t come to that.”  

“And what’s it to you? Scared of me? But I’m unarmed,” he claps himself on the chest demonstratively, implying that he has no weapons on him. “Why do you care if it does?”  

“I just wouldn’t like to do that,” she says firmly, and it’s true. It works well; he doesn’t even mention running away for the remainder of the day.

 This might be the strangest evening in her life.

Waller’s man drives them to a French restaurant whose name she cannot read but is almost sure that the phrase was chosen solely because it sounds impressive. They are let in through the back door, so no one among the other guests, who are sporting evening dresses and suits, pays any attention to her crop top and sword or to his… appearance in general. Their table is one of those located in alcoves, away from prying eyes, but Tatsu feels they are being watched. Which means Waller doesn’t trust her too much – well, she can understand that. She is part of a special team composed of deranged madmen, and she must admit she likes these deranged madmen more than she likes certain normal people known to her. Of course, she is Flag’s right-hand woman, but it is most likely that Waller doesn’t trust Flag either. It is doubtful whether there are any people in this world that she trusts at all.          

Waller is rich. Their little feast will not shatter her wealth, all the more so since the restaurant she sent them to is not the most luxurious. But they still have a field day ordering loads of food and a bottle of the most expensive wine on the menu.    

“To honour among thieves?” she suggests, when they raise their glasses for the first time.

“Didn’t ya say yer not a thief?”

“That is true,” she admits, and adds inwardly, I’m a killer.  

In the end, they drink to the Suicide Squad. Then to Lawton and Jones, currently languishing in their cells. Then to Zoe Lawton, who is acting in a school play next week. To a lot of things. He asks her about her life here, in America. At some point she finds herself trying to explain to him what taiyaki is, and him telling her about banana sandwiches, and she can’t remember why they started talking about this at all. The bottle becomes empty, and another appears as if by itself.      

They don’t talk about the past. They don’t talk about the future, because there might be no future at all – they can’t know for sure, what with their way of life. That evening, Tatsu laughs and thinks: good thing I’m drunk – it almost gets easier for a while.  

When it’s time to leave, Harkness gets pig-headed.

“Whoa, no, no, no. Already? It’s too early, are you kiddin’ me?” he booms out when they exit the restaurant. He protests, but she drags him by the hand and he stumbles along after all, treading heavily like a dancing bear. “Let’s go someplace else, luv. Look at the pretty stars.”  

“We are already late. And you… you have to go back to jail,” Tatsu tells him. The stars are pretty indeed, but she regrets looking up at them, because her head begins to spin. Thankfully, she isn’t wearing high heels. Thankfully, she doesn’t have any high-heeled shoes at all, or she could have been possessed to wear them. “Sorry,” she adds when they get into the car and set off. “There is no other way.”  

“Back to jail,” Boomerang repeats with disgust. Sprawling on the seat, he unzips his hoodie, and Tatsu is swept over by the smell of cologne again. Weirdly, it doesn’t annoy her as much as at the beginning of the evening. “I’m a fucking Cinderella. I’m not back by midnight, they turn me into a pumpkin.”  

“Cinderella,” Tatsu echoes, and giggles: everything is way funnier now. The driver makes a sudden turn, and she is literally thrown at Boomerang. Her cheek presses to his chest – and stays there. Tatsu feels drunk and sated and drunk again, and sleepy too, and he makes for a decent pillow, and she can’t make herself move away.  

“Oh, you think it’s funny,” Harkness mutters with mock offence in his voice. It seems he’s about to fall asleep too. “Well, go on, laugh.”

They drive back in silence, and through the drowse Tatsu feels the warm arm around her waist and thinks: good thing I’m drunk, I can pretend I’m asleep.  

The road to Belle Reve is long, but it still feels like they reach it too quickly.

“Inmate,” calls one of the guards, “get out.”  

Harkness, his eyes still closed, moans with discontent.

“Captain Boomerang,” Tatsu says softly, freeing herself from his embrace. “It’s time.”

There is nothing to be done. He’s already about to step out of the jeep, when he suddenly moves closer to her again.

“Hey, darlin’,” he says, looking her right in the eye. “Aren’t ya forgetting something?”

It takes her some time to realize what he means: he must be expecting her to kiss him. All at once she remembers everything that has happened this evening, and awful shame washes over her: it is no wonder he’s expecting that to happen.  

“Inmate, get out!”

She shrinks back.

“Good night, Captain,” she tells him as dryly as she can. He looks wounded but says nothing, and almost obediently lets the guards escort him back to his cell. Tatsu closes her eyes and rubs her temples wearily. Tomorrow she is going to regret drinking so much. She already does – and that’s not the only thing she regrets.

She has to stop seeing him.

 ***

 At first, she even succeeds. Next Friday Tatsu, as always, goes to Belle Reve to see the Squad – all of them save for Harkness. She feels sick at heart because if she did promise him anything, it was to visit him, and now she’s going back on her word because of her own stupid weakness. But there is no other way.  

“He asked about you,” Waylon tells her a week later, when she brings him the latest issue of Playboy. Tatsu almost doesn’t feel weird anymore when buying it, and doesn’t try to imagine anymore what the news stand clerks think when she pays them for it. Such periodicals cause her a feeling of light disgust, but Croc, who gets let out of jail only to be thrown into another trouble spot, deserves at least some small joys.  

“Who?”

Waylon, no doubt observant like all the quiet ones tend to be, bares his impressive teeth.  

“You know who.”

It seems a logical solution to give up on these visits at all – but in that case she would betray all of them. Perhaps this little tradition is much more important to her than it is to the prisoners, but Tatsu is almost sure that it means something to them as well. She has no right to deprive the rest of them of this bit of understanding, companionship, normalcy because she wasn’t smart enough to stop the game she and Boomerang started before it became too late.

At home – not that the apartment she’s renting here deserves to be called ‘home’ – she, unable to fall asleep, unsheathes the sword and runs the tips of her fingers along the cool blade. A tender, habitual movement – like touching the cheek of a loved one.

“I’ve lost my way, Maseo,” whispers Tatsu. The place where the souls of the people struck down by this blade are trapped is still a mystery to her, but she knows that Maseo will come as soon as she calls him – as a voice from afar, as nebulous shapes in the swirls of smoke, as the peace and safety granted by the presence of someone dear. “I’m afraid of my own heart.”    

I know your heart, Tatsu. You have nothing to be afraid of.

“It makes me act rashly. Makes me succumb to false feelings.”  

I know your heart, Tatsu, and it incapable of falsehood.  

Only the ones that are already far away can speak so vaguely and with such unrelenting honesty at the same time.  

“I will always love you,” she whispers ardently. Not because she doesn’t want him to think it is not so; not because she herself feels like it is not so anymore either. She knows for sure that she is always going to love him, for she loved him as a lover, as a husband, as the father of her children, as the only thing she had left after all her life fell apart, burned in that damned fire. He will stay in her heart until her last breath – even if she has to close her heart to the rest of the world. Once she used to think that after all she’s been through, it isn’t going to be an issue.

And I will always love you, her husband replies, and Tatsu blinks back tears with a deep sigh.

“I just wish you were alive,” she tells him for what must be the hundredth, or maybe a thousandth time.

If he was with her – not as smoke or a voice, but as flesh and blood – he probably would have kissed her gently on the nape of her neck, as he often used to do.  

I just wish, says her husband – no, the soul of her husband, which is already rushing away, deep into the world she shouldn’t hurry to go to if she doesn’t want this sword to fall into wrong hands, that you were happy.

***

 Literally the next day there is a message from Metropolis that some giant snake-like beast is terrorizing the city and devouring people. The monster was last seen crawling into the building of the opera – which is where their squad heads to after reaching the city.  

“Look at that freak,” Harkness comments in a low voice. The creature is curled up slumbering on stage, and they are watching it from the catwalks above. “Not a family of yours by any chance, eh, ‘gator?’    

Waylon steps towards him, and the planks creak under his feet, threatening to break.

“Say that again,” he growls.

Tatsu bares her sword and wedges herself between them. Waylon backs off reluctantly.

“Knock it off,” she tells Boomerang. It feels like everything has come full circle – the day Harkness picked up her mask, he also had a run-in with Jones. The day they were sent to fight the Enchantress, she also put the blade of her sword under his chin. Why did she even think something would change?

“Oh, so you’re talking to me after all?”

“Enough,” Tatsu hisses. She really wants to try to explain everything to him. Maybe if she tries to put her feelings into words, many things will become clear to her, too. But if he thinks they are going to discuss this now, he is mistaken.

On the neighbouring catwalk, Rick is looking at them in a rage, gesturing both of them to shut up. Harkness steps closer; now the blade of the Soultaker is within a hair’s breadth away from his neck. A single careless movement, and blood will be spilled. A wild idea crosses her mind: it looks as if he’s into this. Tatsu licks her lips.

“Y’know,” Boomerang begins, lowering his head a little so that it is easier for him to look her in the eye, “I think you’re scared of me. Or of yourself, hell if I know. Am I right?”  

A loud rustle comes from beneath, and the next instant the monster bites through the middle of the catwalk they’re standing on, and both of them are falling down. Tatsu manages to grab some rope, but when she tries to climb it, her hands slip, and she comes tumbling down.

The fall is far from being soft, even though she falls on the tatters of the curtain, which the snake must have torn earlier. She is lucky not to hurt her head, but her left leg and hip are aching. Only the awareness that there is no time to lie around makes her summon up all her strength and get up. Her sword is nowhere to be seen, and Tatsu is overwhelmed by fury: now she is useless.

The snake roars and shakes its head, trying to shake off Croc, who is trying to bite through its scales. Rick is shooting at the monster from above, and Deadshot, who is already on stage somehow, is doing the same from below, dodging the blows of its tail. Tatsu sweeps her eyes weakly over the stage and suddenly notices a hole broken in it. At the very edge of the hole, the hilt of her sword is sticking out of the floor. Moving as quickly as it is possible to do that with a limp, Tatsu hurries there.

The moment she pulls the sword out of the stage, Harkness’s head pokes out of the hole. Not waiting for him to ask for help, Tatsu helps him get out.

“Are you…” both of them begin in unison and drop it immediately, because the snake has managed to shake off the bothersome little crocodile – who is hopefully just somewhere on the floor and not in its belly – and is moving towards them, slower than before but still pretty speedily. They scatter, and Tatsu charges at the monster with her sword drawn. Harkness throws a boomerang at the creature, aiming at its eye, but it dodges at the last second.        

Eventually, with joint forces they manage to kill the beast. To be on the safe side, Lawton fires a round into its open jaws. The long body shudders one last time and falls still. For some time, the five of them stand there looking at it.

“Where could this thing even come from?” Rick mutters.

“Remember what the Wicked Witch of the West said when she tried to get us to join her? The world is changing, the time of magic has come, blah, blah, blah,” Lawton reminds him. Rick nods absentmindedly; these are not happy memories.

Jones kicks the dead snake.

“Maybe it meant no harm,” he points out in his deep voice.

“Croc,” Rick says wearily, “it ate people.”

“So did I.”

“But at least you didn’t chew the curtain at the opera like a disgraced diva?” Lawton asks, struggling not to grin.

“Nuh-uh.”

“Well, then it’s okay.”

Rick titters nervously, and the next instant all of them are shaking with laughter.

 Tatsu is drinking water straight from the tap in the restroom, when Harkness comes in.

“This is a ladies’ room,” she says reflexively.

“Hey, I just wanna wash my face, is all.”

Without waiting for her to answer, he comes closer and starts washing at the neighbouring sink. Tatsu casts a sidelong look at him and notices that the water is turning red.  

“Show me your face,” she orders.

“It’s not a bad face, what’s yer problem?”

“I’m serious.”

He rolls his eyes, but stands still while she examines his face, only wincing when she dabs at the cut on his forehead with a paper towel.

“Just a scratch,” he assures at once.

“Just a scratch,” Tatsu agrees. She scrunches up the towel and throws it into the sink. She would like to keep her hand on his face, pretending that she’s still wiping off the blood, but she’s done pretending.

“How about you?” Boomerang asks quietly.

“Fine. A couple of bruises. You were lucky today,” she says just as quietly, and takes off her mask. Tomorrow they might not be as lucky. “I’m happy for you.”

“And I’m happy you got out alive… darl.”

For a moment she wants him to ruin everything. To reply with a jibe, to crack another dirty joke, to try to grab and kiss her only to get smacked. Not to stand motionless in front of her like he’s afraid to scare her off. It occurred to her once that from the outside their relationship might look like an attempt to tame a wild animal. Perhaps this is a mutual process.

Do whatever you want to him.

She stands up on tiptoes and kisses him.

For an instant, Harkness freezes – possibly trying to figure out again if he’s dreaming – and then pulls her closer and kisses back. Drinks her hungrily, like this is both the first time and the last. Bearing in mind what their lives are like, it really might be the last.

Tatsu doesn’t immediately realize why she suddenly doesn’t need to stand on tiptoes anymore.

“Put me down–” she starts, but gives up and wraps her legs around his waist. Boomerang grunts with satisfaction and switches from her lips to her neck. His beard, fortunately, is softer than could have been expected.  

“Stop drinking so much,” Tatsu breathes out, now that no one is trying to shut her mouth. “You taste like…” all English words slip her mind, “like… a beer cask.”  

It tickles her when he laughs into her neck.

Someone simply must enter now – Rick, Floyd, Amanda Waller, the president of the United  States, but no, no one is trying to stop him from squeezing her hips, to stop her from running her fingers through his hair. Weapon to weapon, blade to blade. Red-hot metal to red-hot metal. Melting until something new is forged – without fear, without regret, without the past, without the future.

Clearly, Maseo wants too much: she remembers what happiness is, and she is sure she’ll never ever be happy again.

But she can take a shot at being alive.

[buttdawg]

Plane Ride from Hell

I watched the new episode of “Dark Side of the Ring” to see what everyone was talking about, and yeah, it’s pretty messed up.   Some stray observations:

I felt bad for Teri Runnels, because it was clear that she was going through the same kind of sexual harassment as the flight attendants, only it lasted a lot longer than a single plane ride.  She kept saying “Don’t sell it” as her response to these kinds of thing.  I get the feeling that this used to be sound advice for dealing with locker room pranks, but it mutated into this code-of-honor for excusing everything, up to and including wrestlers exposing themselves.

It occurred to me later that this might be why Curt Hennig became such a notorious prankster. The stories I’ve heard over the years suggest that lots of wrestlers would do terrible things to each other in the name of “ribbing”, and Curt Hennig took it to a whole other level.   I’m wondering if maybe that was his defense mechanism for that sort of toxic culture.   Maybe he decided there was no fighting it, so he made it his business to excel at it.   I mean, who’d want to rib Curt Hennig?  He’d just escalate it to an absurd degree.  So it sounds like your only defenses are to “play dead” or “get them before they get you.” 

But it’s kind of funny how everyone told Teri “don’t sell it”, but no one said it to Brock Lesnar that day.   It just exposes the hypocrisy of the whole thing.   If Brock exposes himself to Teri, she’s just supposed to live with it, but if Hennig messes with Brock, then Brock can just start a fight on an airplane.

I was at the grocery, and this four-year-old was just screaming “The Hokey Pokey”.   I could literally hear him from halfway across the store.   And yeah, “don’t sell it” is pretty good advice there, because it’s not that big a deal, and what are you going to do?   It’s not worth getting upset about it.   Tommy Dreamer seems to think that reasoning applies to Ric Flair strutting around nude in a charter plane.   That’s pretty messed up. 

There are people trotting out the defense that it was a “different time”.   Okay, but they were calling it the “Plane Ride from Hell” during 2002.    People got fired over it during 2002.  Everyone knew it was fucked up, even then.  There’s only a renewed sense of outrage because this Dark Side of the Ring episode is finally shedding some light on what really happened, and they’re not sugar coating it.  I mean, yeah, people are probably more sensitive about this kind of thing than they were 19 years ago, but it was a scandal at the time.   WWE did everything they could to cover it up, because they knew how bad it would be for their PR.   

I’d even go so far to suggest that this might be why they didn’t fire more people after the plane landed.   If they fired a lot of wrestlers all at once, it would attract more interest to the story, and there would be loads of ex-employees willing and able to tell their side of it.  That seems to have been the general reaction from WWE’s management.   Vince was upset about the whole incident, but only because of the embarrassment it would be for his company. 

In particular, I find myself focusing on Jim Ross.   I mean, it doesn’t sound like he did anything wrong on the PRFH, but his retelling of events sounds like he wants to have been an impartial, helpless observer, while at the same time he claims ownership of the whole fiasco.  He’d explain his job description like he’s in charge of “the boys”, but then he’d also say things like “I can’t watch everyone every minute”.   It sounds like he had a role in hiring the charter plane, but no one seemed to know how it had an open bar, or who approved the second and third cart of liquor after the first one ran out.  JR claimed that he was the one who had to fire Hennig and Scott Hall, but he’s also quick to say that he only did it because Vince McMahon told him to.   So there’s this sense that he’s just a middleman, executing orders from higher up.   “I’m responsible, but if you don’t like how I handled things, it’s someone else’s fault.”

I just don’t get how all the wrestlers act like this was totally normal behavior for a bunch of drunk wrestlers stuck on a plane for 14 hours.  Someone said that you had to wear sunglasses and a hat while you slept, so that you at least had a chance to wake up before someone tried to shave off your eyebrows.   Ric Flair’s “helicopter” bit was so well known among the talent that they had a name for it.  Ross said that if this had happened on a commercial plane, they would have had law enforcement waiting on them when they landed in the U.S.   And yet, it sounds like there was zero plan in place for how to deal with the wrestlers if they got too rowdy. 

I mean, it’s 19 years later, so maybe it’s obvious in hindsight, but it sounds like it would have been pretty obvious back then, too.   So I can’t tell if Jim Ross was too naive to do his job, or he lacked the tools to do it properly.  They asked Ross pointblank why Ric Flair wasn’t punished for cornering a flight attendant while he was naked, and Ross said he didn’t know.  He suggested that Ric was a “made man” by that point, which doesn’t pass the smell test. 

This isn’t an old vs. new issue.  Ric Flair was 53 when the Plane Ride from Hell Happened.  Brock was in his 20′s when he flashed Teri Runnels backstage.  Dustin Rhodes was 32 during the Plane Ride from Hell.   He’s 52 now, and he’s wrestling for AEW to this day.   Darby Allin is a rapist and he’s working for AEW now, and he’s 28.  Somehow, these guys get conferred an immunity from any consequences of their bad behavior.   It might have something to do with star power or favoritism, but a lot of times it seems purely arbitrary.   Tommy Dreamer was 30 during the Plane Ride From Hell, and he’s 50 now.  He was never a “made man”, but he seems to find nothing inappropriate about Ric Flair’s behavior that day, then or now.  

I don’t know what the solution to any of this is, but I do find it ironic how the episode opened with JR explaining that the charter plane was hired to be “talent friendly”.  They were having a great year financially, and they were on a lucrative European tour, and morale was high, and I guess WWE wanted to do something nice for their wrestlers.    But as the episode wore on, it became clear that WWE management seemed all-too-willing to bend over backwards for their talent.   They let their guys bring syringes on board for crying out loud.   Curt Hennig was drugging people’s drinks.  No one was imposing any rules on the talent, and no one was in any position to enforce the rules.   And when a few people actually did get fired, the guy who did it felt guilty about doing it.  

Leniency and permissiveness can be just as dangerous as strict, draconian micromanagement.   If you let your employees get away with anything, they’ll start getting away with everything, and the bad actors will start to make life miserable for the others.   Without realizing it, WWE was basically punishing Teri Runnels for just existing on this plane.  She can’t retaliate, and she can’t complain to management, so her only choice is “don’t sell it.”  

I’ve always heard what a tyrant Vince McMahon can be, on and off screen, but really, I’ve come to notice how his greatest flaw is his indecision.   Given two choices, he’ll refuse to make up his mind until the last possible moment.  He books DQ finishes and no-contests rather than pick a winner.   He hires a small army of writers to script his shows only to tear up their work right before they go on the air.   He was on the Plane Ride From Hell.   His wife was on board with him.   It’s bizarre to me how we never hear what he was doing during the whole incident.  But the answer is apparently “nothing”, and that probably explains a lot about why his employees felt so little pressure to behave themselves.

[samwrights]

Two Little Lines

Let’s just keep playing around with the pregnancy/baby theme, shall we? 😂😈 it’s going to be on the fluffier side, however, we are gonna sprinkle in some very mild NSFW. And we got real angsty with Kenma and we’re just gonna make em all real long. Sorry this took me a few days to do!

Kenma;

Let’s be honest, Kenma would be the cautious one that would more so plan for pregnancy.

Life’s going great for Kenma—great job, cushy life, hot wife??? How did he get so lucky?

Cause he’s cute af that’s how

He was finally ready to add another player to the party.

However, life can’t always be perfect and apparently neither can the two of you trying for a baby.

For the last year and a half now, Friday nights were your thing. No streaming, no work, no phone calls. You and Kenma—that’s it. And while he definitely had become very explorative in that time, every negative pregnancy test was wearing his drive down.

It shouldn’t come as a surprise to anyone that Kenma isn’t a fan of going to the doctor, even to check on how his little swimmers are doing. “If it’s not meant to be, we’ll find another way.” But you could tell it was breaking his heart a little bit.

Frisky Friday’s became fragile Friday’s, in which the two of you really just cuddled in bed together, fireplace lit, and talked about hopeful dreams of finally having a child together, until one of you hopefully got in the mood.

Shit, this whole ordeal was even making your marriage rough. Kenma had been so hard on himself lately that he could barely look at you, which caused you to start to feel insecure, causing the both of you to fight.

It’s Friday night. No streaming, no work, and no phone calls. That was how it was supposed to be. But instead, Kenma is naked in bed atop the comforter, playing with his switch.

It’s pissing you off.

“I don’t know what you wanna do anymore, Kenma. Do you even want a family? Do you even want to be with me anymore?”

“Why would you even say that?” It’s Friday night. The two of you are supposed to be hanging out in bed, naked and just being together, not picking fights with each other. But since that seems to be the case, you see Kenma flush with anger.

“Maybe because you’re playing Animal Crossing instead of looking at me??” Your husband sighs before putting his switch on the night stand before taking down the loose knot that his hair typically resides in. He’s anxious. “You’re acting like I’m not upset about this too.”

As you’re talking to him, you cautiously clamber over him, your face filled with raw emotion. And, after being married for the better half of a decade, you can see what he’s feeling. Failure, distress, and pain were only the start of it. “Please, Kenma. One more time, and we’ll start looking at other options.”

Apparently one more time was all it took, according to the three pregnancy tests you’d taken a month later. Seeing those two little lines on one of the tests that your husband had bought in bulk sent your heart into palpitations. You were going to be a mom.

Kenma comes home from work that Friday—you decided to surprise him. “What do you want to do tonight Kenma?”

??? “Honey, it’s Friday. Don’t we usually...” he stops. Either you were giving up on trying, which you two would have discussed, or... “wait, you don’t mean...”

Holding up the positive pregnancy test, you begin to cry. Kenma does too.

“Baby Kozume has joined the party.”

Kuroo;

Only the two of you would get pregnant while having an IUD implant. Literally, that was just your luck. But it was still possible.

Which you had yet to tell Kuroo—at the moment you were thankful the two of you weren’t cohabitating yet because you were able to hide your unbearable morning sickness.

You were at least waiting to see your doctor to have your IUD removed before telling him, mostly out of fear but also because, if he did notice your morning sickness, you could pawn it off as symptoms of the removal.

You hoped that this wouldn’t take too long or as be as painful as it was going in, but then again you were going to be pushing a human out in nearly 8 months.

It’s a Wednesday afternoon; Kuroo has already finished classes for the day while you’re still out at your appointment. He did have a key to your appointment, but it was strange that you weren’t home considering you didn’t have classes.

He wasn’t gonna call you out on it though—Kuroo trusted you. Instead, he opted to just rummaging around your apartment, cleaning up dishes that were left standing in the sink and making lunch for the two of you.

The minute you walked through your door, the smell of his cooking wafted through the air and absolutely did not agree with you or the baby’s sense of smell. “Fuck,” you grit out before bolting to the bathroom to hurl.

??? = Kuroo.

“Babe? You okay?” Your response was more vomiting, which was apparent both by sound and by visual—you hadn’t even closed the door to the bathroom and Kuroo got to witness the scene clear as day.

In comfort, Kuroo rubs your lower back in an attempt to coax the remaining bile from your body. Disturbing, was the only way Kuroo could describe it, considering you rarely ever puked. In the last six years of dating, he’s only seen it once while you drunk.

When the nausea finally passed, Kuroo cleaned your face up with a warm rag before sitting you on his knee while he sat at the edge of the tub. “What’s wrong, baby?”

“That, actually.”

“What?” Kuroo’s a smart guy, however it took him a few minutes to decipher your two word puzzle. “Wait, seriously?”

“Yeah, I was gonna tell you today, actually. I just had to go get my IUD removed.” For a moment he’s stunned—the IUD was supposed to be nearly foolproof. But nearly is the key word.

“Babe, you’re pregnant! Holy shit, I gotta call Kenma and Bo and tell them they’re gonna be uncles!” 💀💀💀

“Sooo, you’re okay with it...?” After all, there was a reason you had chosen to go with an IUD after your guys’ last pregnancy scare two years ago.

After all, being a freshman in college wasn’t necessarily an ideal time to start a family.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” He balks.

“Because we’re college students that still have another year to graduate?” You deadpan as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“And? Now we’re gonna be married college graduates with little baby Kuroo.” M a r r i e d?

“I think you’re getting a little ahead of yourself, Tetsu.”

“What, you don’t wanna marry me?” For a minute, his face contorts with...confusion? Sadness? Anger? A myriad of all the above? “I’ve wanted to marry you since high school.”

“Is this a proposal?”

“The rings been in my gym bag since senior year.”

Akaashi;

Akaashi Keiji, contrary to popular opinion, was a real romantic.

Even as college students, while your focus should be on your studies, Akaashi never slacked on making you feel special and loved. He knew it, you knew it, and your poor neighbors that shared the wall between your bedrooms knew it.

Kinda made it awkward when the two of you would leave for class and you’d meet your neighbors’ eyes in the apartment hallway. But ya know, it is what it is.

Honestly, it’s too challenging not to go at it every day when your boyfriend is the sweetest, most endearing human to walk the planet.

But enough gushing about Akaashi. Four years into your relationship, you had never felt so off in your life. The last three weeks, all you wanted to do was sleep and eat, you couldn’t focus on anything at all. You couldn’t even have sex with Akaashi.

You know, your wonderful partner that you literally boned everyday? Yeah.

It felt like a permanent, three week PMS for a period that never came. Not that that was entirely abnormal for you—intense amounts of stress can throw off your menstrual cycle and stress was certainly no stranger to you.

But no. You knew your body and you knew it well. Something was wrong.

Just in case things went awry, you scheduled a doctor’s appointment with Keiji��s knowledge. After all, it could very well be nothing and there was no point in causing your man to worry.

“Miss, were you aware that you’re nearly six weeks pregnant?” 💀💀💀 obviously not, doc.

Not entirely convinced, whether because you’re a tad dense or because you really just don’t want to believe the doctor, you swing by a local drug store to grab a test. Just in case, like somehow the doctor would be wrong.

Thankfully, you get home before Akaashi is back from work for the evening, giving you the privacy of seeing your results with your own eyes. Even though you literally could go look at the results and notes from your doctors visit, but ya know.

You don’t even know how long you sat on the floor of your shared bathroom, just staring at the two little lines. You didn’t even realize Akaashi came home.

He calls your name, at first not necessarily concerned that the only light in the apartment was peeking from under the bathroom door. But with no answer, he calls out your name again. No answer. “Honey, is it okay if I come in?”

“Y-yeah?” You aren’t really sure how to answer. How the hell was Akaashi going to react? You guys didn’t have time for a kid?? You’re completely zoned out, staring blankly at the bathtub in front of you. Lowkey, you’re freaking out Akaashi.

Even more so when he sees your hand loosely cradling the pregnancy test—judging by your reaction, he knows what the result is. But he can’t think of anything to say, what is there even to say?

He’s not upset, no. Shocked? Obviously. Mad, not at all considering he’s just as much responsible. The “R” word is what triggers him.

Responsible, in the sense that in less than a year, the two of you were going to be parents. It swelled joy within him. While the two of still had yet to speak, Akaashi comes to your side, sliding down the wall to sit beside you before wrapping his arms around you.

“So, are you hoping for a boy or a girl?”

[theonetheycallhannah]

The Treatment of Captain Syverson-Chapter 19: Debridement

Characters: Captain Logan “Sy” Syverson, Shane Benton (OFC), various other original supporting/secondary characters

Summary: Shane begins to process life after her trauma, and Sy delivers the news of her safety to the people that matter most to her…but there is pushback on a few aspects of his report.

Romance and Smut Abound HERE!

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: Mostly fluff, but with mention of Shane’s trauma in the cellar. Not graphic. 

Author’s Note: My darling readers! Thank you so much for your patience as I deal with seasonal stress, fatigue, anxiety, and some depression. It was my goal to have all chapters of this story done by the end of this year. I don’t think I’ll accomplish it, but I’ll do my very best to get at least one more chapter up by the 31st. 2020 has been a totally shit year, but I will forever owe it some remarkable things. This story, which has been an amazing escape from real life, the friends I’ve made from all over my country and the world, many of them because of this story, and a long overdue shift in my work hours starting next week. I’ll be glad to see the back of it, but the year has really opened me up to new ideas and some major soul-searching. I think, mentally, I’m actually more myself than I’ve ever been, despite some blue times. You can all take some credit for that improvement, because many of my moments of clarity have arisen from brilliant and profound posts here.

The title of this chapter seemed appropriate for a few reasons. Wounds are cleaned and cleared of damaged tissue during debridement. This is one of the steps usually required for a large and/or traumatic wound to heal. We see Shane beginning this process here in this chapter, and in a sense, Sy, as well. The cleansing of Shane in both the literal and figurative sense was so interesting and satisfying to write. And Sy’s bit at the end was a fun puzzle in which I had to figure out how to have Sy give the same news to four different recipients without sounding repetitive. I hope that landed, and if anyone has any suggestions, please let me know.

Disclaimer: Unfortunately for me, Henry is not mine, le sigh, and all mention of him, his characters, any characters from his films, or his precious doggy, Kal, are strictly for transformative and recreational use. I neither ask for, nor accept payment for the work I post on Tumblr or AO3. Unbeta’d because this is for fun and escapism. This is an original work by me, Hannah. Please reblog if you wish to share. Please do not repost either in whole or part, as the work of anyone but myself. Thanks so much for reading!

Tags:

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If you want to be notified when I post a new chapter or work, I’ll be happy to add you to my tag list! Stricken blogs are getting personal messages from me when a new chapter is uploaded because Tumblr’s faulty tagging system will not stand in the way of me delivering what the people want!(?) lol! (Although…their lackadaisical notification system might…sorry for that. I have no control. lol!)

X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@

Shane still felt as if her head was floating above her body, like a balloon on a long string. The combination of meds in her system had helped many of her symptoms. The pain she felt, the physical pain, had been alleviated. Her troubled mind had been put at ease, more or less. But that was a long time ago. And unfortunately, the side effects weren't wearing off at the rapid rate of the intended ones.

As she sat in the SUV--the escape vehicle-- parked outside a large building the size of a small airplane hangar, she tried not to think about what Sy and his pals were discussing just outside the vehicle. She tried not to reflect on the past few days that she had convinced herself would be her last. She tried not to think about what -- or, really, who -- was inside that building.

She thought about seeing Elliott again. The man who had planned to kill her, and almost succeeded. A part of her wished he had, because she wasn't sure she knew who she was anymore. She was a stranger to herself. And living like this seemed so much more difficult than a quick painless death. She couldn't bear the thought of being in view of him.

But another part of her wanted to go in there and end his life herself. That part of her could pull the trigger on a gun aimed at his head. That part of her could bury a knife in his kidney, or sever an artery. Her anatomy and physiology courses could serve her well here. She had dangerous knowledge. Maybe that's why doctors often seem so full of themselves. They possess the knowledge to end life, and yet they choose to save it. It sort of puts things into perspective. Maybe they're justified in their hubris.

Still one more part simply wanted to go home, clean up, and lay naked in her soft sheets with Sy wrapped around her. Warmer and more comforting than any blanket had ever been. She had remembered missing him so much. She thought now about his gentle, loving hands on her, his mouth tasting her so delicately, his…

But then her mind was ripped from the sensual thoughts of Sy and back to her horrific memories from that cellar. The hands of strangers, rough and hateful, their mouths full of words like bile or the grunts of their own violent fulfillment.

Her nightmare of a daydream was abruptly interrupted by the opening of the back passenger door. She jumped, and looked at the source of the noise with wide-eyed terror. It was only Sy, but she couldn't school her face into a softer expression, even after realizing she was safe.

"Oh, Sunshine, I'm so sorry I startled ya! You okay?"

She said nothing, just let out her held breath woefully.

"Let's head home. I'll get your purse and bag of clothes here."

"I don't want those clothes. Throw them away. And these shoes are going in the trash as soon as possible, too."

"Okay. I'll toss it. You sure?"

"I never want to see that bag again. I'm positive."

He nodded, grabbed her purse, and went around to help her out of the vehicle.

One of Sy's friends approached them from the building.

"You guys okay? You'll make it home alright?"

"Yeah, Matt, we'll be okay. I'll be in touch soon about next steps."

"You got it, Captain. Anything you need, let us know."

"Will do. Thanks for everything you've already done. I owe ya."

"You don't owe me a thing, brother. You don't owe any of us. Not after everything you've done for all of us…for everyone."

Sy just nodded at Matt, and turned toward his truck, steadying Shane all the way to the passenger door.

The drive to Shane's house was quiet. Sy kept one hand on the wheel, holding hers in the other. She felt safe, but she couldn't shake the uneasy feeling inside her. Like the other shoe would soon drop, and her love would be taken away again.

When they were safely parked in her driveway, Sy took her keys out of his pocket, apparently having gotten them from his friend who'd drove her car from Elliott's to the airplane hangar place. He walked around to get her, and helped her to her door. She kicked off her shoes immediately when she stepped inside her shadowy living room. She had left the same lamp on that she always did, but it was dimmer now, having been on almost a whole week.

"Bath?" Sy asked. Shane nodded slowly. She would need a long soak to erase this feeling.

Sy got the bath water ready while she found some clothes to put on after. She laid her comfiest lounge pants and her favorite sweat shirt on the bed and walked toward the bathroom. She was soon hit with the comforting aroma of lavender, chamomile, and vanilla as soon as she stepped through the doorway. He had used her favorite bubble bath and salts.

"Check that water temp. I think it's about right." he requested. It was perfect. She started to peel off the stiff paper scrubs she was still wearing, but he insisted on helping her. As she stood before him, even though he'd seen every inch of her body before, she felt more naked and exposed than ever. She looked at him, noticed tears welling in his eyes, and dropped her gaze to the bath mat under her feet. Her skin, typically immaculately clear, olive perfection, was now peppered with dozens of bruises. She felt like a dalmatian, covered in spots. She chuckled inside herself at the thought of one of her favorite Disney films featuring the breed most heavily.

Sy's strong, but gentle hands landed softly on her upper arms. His lips lit tenderly on her forehead. "Ready?" he asked. She nodded and stepped into the large, garden tub full of steaming water. It stung her feet, ankles, and calves, but she still bent to sit, wincing as her tender petals and behind met the medicinal broth. Sy held her hand as she stepped in and guided her down. She closed her eyes at the soothing pain of the hot water and did not open them until she felt the water level rise. Sy had stepped in with her, wearing just his boxer-briefs, and was sitting on the side of the tub. He reached for the hand shower, and turned the water back on, slightly less warm, but still soothing and soaked her hair, directing the water away from her face. He had thought to grab her shampoo from the shower, as well, and was lathering some up in his hands to apply to her wet strands. It felt like heaven to have his fingers in her hair like this. Relaxing and soporific. He kept at it until she was certain he must be getting pruney, not to mention tired.

After carefully rinsing her hair of the coconut-scented lather, he grabbed the lavender foam bath she loved, and worked it up in one of the wash cloths he'd brought from the linen caddy between the sink and shower. He massaged the suds into her tired and injured skin over her back, then requested each leg in turn, kneading her calves and feet as she took another of the cloths and washed her face with the rich cleanser she kept by the bath, typically using it only on her "spa days" but feeling that it would nourish her battered cheeks and nose better than anything else. Sy's ministrations filled her with a kind of blissful contentment. She couldn't help but wonder if she deserved him. She always had thought she deserved the best things in life, even though her romantic past didn't tend to pan out that way. She'd worked very hard and often allowed herself to invest in quality. But now…she felt broken, in spite of herself. She'd have to tell Sy all that happened to her one day, and when that day came, he'd probably realize how damaged she really was, and he'd leave. Just like everyone else always did. She knew the conversation needed to come sooner rather than later, but couldn't bring herself to break the spell yet.

Sy let her soak for as long as she was comfortable until the water grew tepid. She looked up to him, sitting on the side of the tub, legs now outside, his gaze like twin seas met hers. He had been watching her, it seemed. As if worried that she would dematerialize if he looked away. Her bath robe was draped across his lap, as was a large bath towel. She moved to stand from the now chilled bath water, and Sy was immediately up to aid her rising. He held her hand as she stepped out of the tub and dried her top half before helping her don the robe, then continued to dry her bottom half.

"Go on in there and get comfortable, Sunshine. I have a few phone calls to make. I wanna let your folks know you're okay and I wanna tell Detective Clarkson you've been found. Anyone else you want me to get in touch with?"

"Umm, do you know if my brother and sister know what's happened to me?"

"They do. They should both be at your parent's house by now from what I gathered when I visited."

"Okay, so mom or dad will let them know. I guess you should call Susan, and let her know that I'm alive but won't be in this week. On my fridge, there's a phone directory for everyone in my department. But first, call Heather. I don't want her to worry any longer. Call her right after mom and dad. And tell them all I'll have them over tomorrow, but I can't tonight. I'm…"

She didn't even know what she was. Tired, sore, depressed, hopeless, and angry. A combination of so many feelings and emotions coursed through her.

"I'll work it out. You get in bed, and I'll be back in when I'm done with these calls, okay?" she nodded. He continued, "I love you, darlin.'" and wrapped his arms around her, making her feel almost whole again.

"I love you." she replied. Holding back tears until he had left the room.

~~~~~~

Shane realized she hadn't brushed her teeth in…far too long. She donned her sleeping clothes and went into the bathroom again to complete a comprehensive oral hygiene routine.  Sy had been gone for about a half hour, during which time, his absence felt like a noose around her neck. Or an anvil on her chest. It made it feel like hours had passed rather than mere minutes. She was fidgety. When he finally re-entered, she breathed a sigh of relief.

"Do you need anything, sweet pea?"

"Just you."

Sy crawled under the covers with Shane to spoon her, arm laying over her rib cage. She winced, as the bruises on her torso were disturbed at the contact, but she didn't ask him to adjust. Despite the dull pain, this was what she needed. Sy's protecting arm around her.

"Did you get a hold of everyone?" She asked, sleepily.

"I did. Your family are eager to see you, but they understand your need for rest. Heather says that you better let her come over soon, because she's holding your phone hostage until you pay her in hugs. They all send their love."

"And Susan?"

"Yeah, that woman is a piece of work, I know, but I think she's going to come through for you. She's going to have them hold off on scheduling patients with you until you're better, and put both weeks in as vacation. She said you have plenty of it. But also, if you need more time, she can work out some…family medical leave…thing? She said she'd get the ball rolling on that, and will let you know what you need to do on your end."

"Oh, good. Yeah, she can be an asshole, but sometimes she does right by her employees. What about the detective?"

Sy paused there. "I, uh, I talked to him for quite a while and he said a lot of things. Let's go over the finer points tomorrow at breakfast. Or, rather, today." He said, looking at the blue numbers on the glowing digital clock on Shane's nightstand that indicated the wee hours of the morning were running out. "I'm sure we're both tired enough to grab a few winks, ain't we?" He asked, and she hummed her ascent as she tucked herself closer to his warm, monolithic chest.

As Shane drifted off, she thought she felt a warm kiss, and a whisper at her temple. It sounded like a tearful prayer. She was too far into her sleep to comprehend the words being said.

"Thank you God," Sy whispered. "I know I'm not your most faithful servant, but I am truly grateful that you've kept this treasure of mine alive and brought her back to me. Thank you for reuniting me with the woman I mean to spend the rest of my days with, if she'll agree to it. Thank you."

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

About Thirty Minutes Ago-

Sy left the bedroom and began scrolling through his phone for the Benton's number. He pressed the call button with joy.

"Sy?" John answered frantically, just as he did the first time Sy spoke to him.

"John, is everyone there?"

"Yeah, we're all just watching a movie in the family room. Do you have news?"

"I do. You may want to put me on speaker, because everybody's going to want to hear this."

"Okay." and after a brief struggle with the speaker button and help from two younger people Sy presumed were Ethan and Gabby, John was back with the whole family. "Okay, Sy, we can all hear you. What's the word?"

"Oh, it's a very good word, guys. I found Shane and she is alive, and now safe." Cheering from what sounded like a stadium full of fanatics resounded from the ear piece of his cell phone.

"Sy, this is Gabby, Shane's sister. Can we come see her now?" Gabby's tears were evident in her voice. He wished he could tell them yes. But Shane needed her rest.

"I know she would love to see you, Gabby, she'd love to see all of you, but I think what she needs right now is rest. She's been through…a terrible ordeal. I took her to the Emergency Room to get checked out, and she just had a bath and is about to go to bed. She'll want to see you all tomorrow, though. Maybe around lunch time?"

"That sounds good, Sy. We'll bring some of this food over." John said.

"Are you sure we can't come over tonight? I…I want to see my daughter with my own eyes." Margaret said, weepily.

"I truly wish I could tell you yes, Peg, but she's hardly slept the last week, and just had her first full meal since she was taken this evening at the hospital. I really think it's best for everyone if you guys wait until tomorrow when she's more herself and rested." Sy reiterated.

"What about the people who did this to her?" a male voice he didn't recognize asked, assured to be Ethan. "Any leads on them?" He wanted to tell them that most of the men had been dealt with using lethal or nearly lethal force, and that the perpetrator of Shane's misery was locked up in Matt's shop bathroom until they decided just how to take care of him. But he needed to disclose what he knew to as few people as possible.

"The less y'all know, the better. For your own good. At least right now. Just know that whatever justice has not yet been served, it will be very soon."

"That's good enough for me." John offered, in an apparent attempt to bring Ethan on side.

"Thanks, John. I'll take care of her tonight. I won't leave her side. I promise."

"Thank you, son." John replied. Sy appreciated the tender address, but wondered how Ethan felt about his father referring to someone else as his son. Probably not that great. He couldn't worry about that now.

"It's my sincerest pleasure. I want you to know that. She's my world now. I won't let anything else happen to her."

"We know, dear." Peg added.

"Good night. And we'll see y'all tomorrow."

Four incoherent replies rang out before he ended the call. Next was Heather.

"Hello?" she answered in sleepy confusion.

"Heather?"

"Who'sis?"

"It's Logan Syverson. Sy? From PT. Shane's boyfriend."

"Sy! Oh, it's good to hear from you! Any news?"

"The best news, darlin.' Our girl is alive, and home safe." he smiled ear to ear saying the words, but it quickly turned into a wince when Heather shouted for joy in his ear. It was fine. Not like he didn't already have mild tinnitus.

"Oh my GOD! I'm coming over right now!"

"No, Heather, she's resting. She told me she'll see people tomorrow, but I don't think anyone but you and her family should be allowed in right now. She's…well, she's been through seven levels of Hell, and when I look into her eyes, I can still see the fire."

"Shit. Anything I can do?"

"She'll be thrilled to see ya. But tomorrow."

"She better. I have her phone and the ransom is a thousand hugs."

"That's a steep debt." Sy chuckled.

"She can owe me for a while." Heather laughed. "Is she okay?"

What a loaded question. Physically, she was injured, but would heal. Emotionally, that would be more of a journey.

"Honestly, Heather? Not really. The physical stuff is more or less superficial, but…I'm worried about her mental state."

"Poor thing. Please let me know if I can do anything. Anything at all. She's like a sister to me."

"I will. For now, keep the news and the details quiet. I'm gonna call Susan next, and I don't think she'll like it if you know before she does. Just a hunch."

"An accurate one. She'd be furious. I'll keep mum. Thanks so much for putting my mind at ease, Sy. Take care of her."

"I'll do my best. See ya."

He was dreading talking to Susan the most. More than Clarkson. He couldn't quite pinpoint why, but she'd really pissed him off every other time he'd talked to her, and he really didn't think too much of her.

"Hello, this is Susan."

"Hey, Susan, it's Logan Syverson. Shane's boyfriend." He made sure to put the label in there. Remind her that her policy had not been enough to keep them apart.

"Mr. Syverson. Hello. What can I do for you?" her haughty tone was softened a measure with concern for her employee. Even though she didn't ask about her in so many words, he knew that she was wondering.

"Nothing. I just wanted to let ya know, Shane's okay. She's been hurt, and won't be in this coming week, at least. She's in some pain right now, of both a physical and emotional nature."

"What happened?"

"She, uh, hasn't given me a lot of details." Not a lie. "She just escaped from her captor and we found each other." Misleading, but mostly true. "We just got home from the ER." Perhaps a lie by omission of the stop off at Matt's. "They said she'd be okay, but to follow up with her primary for more tests."

"Okay, I'll make sure her schedule is cleared. She has plenty of PTO for these two weeks, but I'll call the FMLA office in charge of family medical leave and short term disability and let them know she'll need some more time off, and see if we can get that going. I'll get with her about the details, and what she'll need to do. I'll text her sometime this week. How's she doing?" Sy thought he heard genuine concern from this dragon woman.

"About as well as someone who's been kidnapped, tortured, and assaulted for a straight week can possibly be, I'd say." Sy's words were civil, but tinged with venom. Even though she was being decent right now, he knew the kind of person she could be.

"Dear God." Susan gasped, shocked at the statement, and Sy wasn't sure whether it was due to the events themselves, or the blunt way he'd told her about them. "Well, I'll do anything I can to help her though this on my end. She's one of my best. I can't…I really don't think I could replace her."

"I'm glad you don't have to try, Susan. Have a nice evenin.'"

"Thanks, Sy, you too."

Sy took a deep breath as he pulled up Clarkson's number and called him. He honestly wasn't completely certain how he was going to explain things, but he'd figure it out. He was good at flyin' by the seat of his pants.

A gruff voice came from the ear piece. "Clarkson."

"Detective, this is Captain Syverson. We spoke about the Benton case a few days ago?"

"I remember you, Sy. What's up?"

"Oh, uh, well, wanted to tell ya you could close the case. I found her." It was the coming conversation in which he would really have to bend the truth or lie altogether.

"Really?! Oh, that's great, man. Where'd ya find 'er."

"I's drivin' 'round, hopin' to come across some lead or sign of her. I was a few miles down highway 100 when I saw a slumped form in one of the ditches. I pulled off at the next drive and went back to check, and it was her. She was hurt, but once she recognized me…I dunno, everything's kind of a blur after that. But I got her checked out at the ER, and brought her home now." Most of that statement was false…but not the recount of them seeing each other for the first time. That was a very real and true fact.

"Highway 100?"

"That's right. Why do you ask?"

"Well, I heard about a terrible, two-vehicle accident on Highway D tonight. No survivors."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that." He wasn't. "I hope there weren't any kids involved." He knew there weren't.

"Nope. All adult males, aged 30-40. Couple of SUVs. One ran off the road, and another…well, it's almost like it was blown up on purpose. Happened just a few miles from town."

"That sounds horrible, but what does an accident on Highway E--"

"It was D. Highway D." Sy knew it was, and had said the wrong thing on purpose.

"My mistake. My question though, is what does that…tragedy have to do with my finding Shane on Highway 100?"

"That's what I'm wondering, myself, Syverson. See, there was some…evidence that suggests military involvement in this incident."

"Well, I'm retired."

"Are you though?  Is anyone ever really retired from the armed forces. No veteran I've ever talked to can seem to shake off the war shackles."

"Well, I ain't shackeled, detective. I'm proud of my time serving my country, but I got no cause to relive it or hang on to it. Especially now that I have Shane. She's my life now. That part of it’s over."

"I guess I have to take you at your word, captain. Got no evidence so far that ties you to the scene. Just…be careful. If you do anything retaliatory to Miss Benton's captor or captors, I won't be able to protect you, no matter how I feel about your actions. Or how justified they might be."

"Understood. I will keep that in mind should I decide to take matters into my own hands." he tried not to let the smile on his face show in his voice.

"Right, well…is she okay?"

"I, uh…I think she will be…eventually. She hasn't said much to me about what happened, but I know it was torture, or akin to it. "

"Well, I hope she recovers quickly. I'll want a statement from her before I close the case."

"Sure thing. As soon as she's ready to talk."

"Great. Thanks for the call, Sy. I'm glad she's safe now. That's all that matters, really."

"Agree. Have a good night, Clarkson."

He ended the call and rubbed his face as head in frustration with his free hand. They'd have to come up with a story. A good one. Close enough to the truth that Shane could feel comfortable telling it, but far enough of a departure that they weren't incriminated in any kidnapping, murder, or manslaughter charges.

But for tonight, they’d rest. And just be glad to be together again.

Up Next: Chapter 20-Second Assist

[stevesharrlngtons]

pin prick and needle sticks.

roman godfrey x reader

summary: your solution for roman’s feeding problem is met with some resistance.

word count: 3.9k

a/n: ya im having so much fun writing again so hopefully there will be more! i hope you enjoy and if you do, pls give me some feedback (-: 

also this is a repost bc this wasn’t showing up in tags 

When you strode into Dr. Pryce’s office, he didn’t try to hide his surprise at your uncharacteristic appearance.

“Ms. (Y/L/N)! This is surely an unexpected visit.” Pryce pushed out of his desk chair to meet you in the middle of the large glass room.

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything.” You say politely as Johann takes the coat that’s folded over your arm.

“No, not presently. I was just about to wrap up some paperwork and go to lunch.”

“Well, I won’t keep you long. I am hoping my question has a simple enough answer.” You say as you take a seat in one of the visitors chairs across from his desk.

“So, you are looking for my expertise on a matter?” Pryce asks, taking his own seat now.

“Yes, and maybe a small favor depending on your answer.” You smile, trying to seem as sweet as possible.

You knew Johann was asked for wild favors and cover ups where the Godfrey family was concerned constantly, almost on the daily. You wanted him to be receptive to your idea and not shoot you down before he heard your pitch.

Pryce was tolerant of your presence and occasionally even fond of your acquaintance when Roman needed him for something or another. You were very bright and amiable company.

He sighs deeply, already seeming resistant, “Is this a Roman related favor?”

“Yes, but not in the way you think. It’s more like a gift I need your help in giving.”

Johann looked extremely perplexed as he placed his laced fingers on his desktop, “Now I am very intrigued. Please, proceed,”

“You are aware that Roman has been having some trouble sourcing food. Right?” You try to say everything as delicately as possible, even though you knew Pryce knew about Roman’s situation in full. Probably even more than you knew.

“Yes, I am. Unfortunately Olivia forbids me to speak with him on the matter before she does, and she refuses to do so until Roman goes to her for help.”

“Withholding access to food, sounds like an award winning mother if you ask me.”

Johann chuckles, “Yes, Olivia is nothing but selfless.”

“Selfless and maternal.”

Pryce laughs again before he asks you what is the nature of your visit in relation to Roman and his upirism.

“Like all things in Roman’s life that are broken, I have found the solution to fix them. In this case, I have decided that I will take my blood and give it to him. As much as I can give, so he will never have to worry about where to feed again.” You said this with a self assured expression, elated that you had come up with a way to help your love.

The true extent of Roman’s feeding problem had become apparent one night while you were making love.

Roman sat on his knees, your legs around his waist while he pressed his hips deliciously into yours. He had set a gentle rhythm of thrusts, ones that were illicting your mewls and calls of his name from your lips. While you were reveling in your pleasure, Roman was trembling. Desire filming his eyes as they transfixed on your jugular. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the faint thrum in your neck, your voice becoming hazy and distant as his mouth watered at the sight of your craned neck below him. It wasn’t until you grabbed his cheeks that he snapped from his thirsty stupor.

Roman tumbled off your naked form to the floor of the bedroom unceremoniously, skirting away from you until his back reached the wall, the farthest wall from the bed. You had sat up, not bothering to cover yourself as you stared at your crumpled boyfriend, who shook and stammered under his breath.

“I can’t, OK? We can’t! Not until I feed again. I don’t think I can control it- I can’t control myself.”

“Baby, it’s going to be fine. I know you would never hurt me,” You push away the remains of crumpled sheets and begin toward him, but Roman flinches aggressively.

“I can’t help it, no matter how much I don’t want too, I will. I would kill you just for a taste and I would hate myself forever.”

You wanted to offer yourself up on a silver platter then and there. Ask him to drink from you because even if he doubted his control, you knew he would stop feeding before you were in any semblance of danger. You just wanted to make him feel better, in any way you could. But, as Roman wove his hands into his hair and tugged ruthlessly at the roots, it was clear that this wasn’t going to become an argument, or even a conversation. Roman left the bedroom soon after, muttering something about the refrigerator and leeches, while you watched him leave with an ache in your chest.

You had been trying to figure out the best possible solution to Roman’s problem since. After contemplating many different avenues, you concluded that you weren’t a bank robber (even if it was just a blood bank) and hiring someone from Craigslist seemed too risky (and too weird). So, you had fallen back on your original idea from that night: Roman would drink from you.

“To be clear, you want to extract your own blood and stockpile it for Roman?”

“Exactly. I just need to know how to do it and how much I can give per week without dying of iron deficiency or something.” You nonchalantly reply.

“This is very noble of you to do, (Y/N).”

You wave a dismissive hand at his compliment, “I just want to help him in the best way I can. It’s what you do for the people you love.”

Pryce stares at you for a moment, and begins to wonder how Roman attracted you in the first place? He was sure it was the young man’s killer good looks and the charm he held with the opposite sex that first caught your attention, but you were a smart girl. You wouldn’t fall for him simply because he was a blueprint for a Greek statue or threw a few saccharine words your way. He wondered if Roman was warm and adoring? Sweet and loving and soft when he was only in your company? From what Pryce had seen first hand, Roman was kind and gentle when you were around, but only ever to you. The second Roman laid his eyes back on Pryce or anyone else for that matter, he was back to an angry frothing terror to anyone in his path.

“When giving blood for say, The Red Cross, they take about a liter of your blood which is around 15 fluid ounce. You shouldn’t give more than that a mouth, but I could give you a few supplements that could help replenish your red blood cells at a slightly quicker rate so you would be able to give blood once a week.

“You would likely need to take breaks, possibly a month on and a month off? To make sure that giving blood this frequently wouldn’t take any serious toll, or have any significant side effects on the body.” Pryce explains.

“And these supplements won’t do anything weird to me if I take them?” You trusted Pryce, but only minutely. While you felt cordial with him, you still knew to be weary of his experiments.

“No, of course not. They are all over the counter supplements and vitamins that you can buy on your own accord. I would just tell you how, when and the quantity to take.”    

You sighed at his answer and laughed lightly, “So it’s all good? We could do it?”

“I don’t see why not. I could send a tech to your home to administer the IV, and possibly if this method of feeding works out for Roman long term, you could learn to insert it yourself.”

“Am I going to have like, crazy puncture marks? Am I gonna look like a junkie?” You asked, the vanity of this whole thing only now coming to your mind.

“Unfortunately, there will be noticeable marks and possible bruises from repeated insertions. I could work on something to heal your puncture marks, as I said, if this becomes a main source of Roman’s feeding.”

You nod, mulling over the information for a moment.

“When could we start?”

Telling Roman about the whole thing never even crossed your mind. To you, this was a gift that you were going to give to him, and you loved the element of surprise. It was strange, sure, but to you, this idea of yours felt totally romantic. Some women gave their boyfriends watches, or flat screen TV’s, or let them put in their ass on their birthdays; but for your boyfriend? The man who had every material object he desired and every sexual need quenched? Your blood was a perfect way to show him you cared.

You didn’t want Roman to get just one bag for the first time you presented him with the blood, so you waited four long weeks to create your mini arsenal for him. You just took to wearing long sleeves around the house and silk robes right before bed to hide the little marks on your arms. Roman, still not at his most observant from his lack of feedings, didn’t even bat an eye at your clothing choices.

After your final session with one of Pryce’s tech’s in your home, you felt giddy. You had been keeping the blood in the outside fridge until you had the stockpile you desired, knowing Roman never checked it’s contents. Tonight was the night you were finally going to give them to him.

After Pryce’s man left, you placed your newest bag in the refrigerator and went back inside to change into something far more alluring than the sweatpants you adorned currently. This was going to be a special night for your man and you wanted to pull out all the stops. You had already directed Conway and Anna to make a four course feast for the two of you before you would bring out Roman’s surprise.

After changing into the tightly fitted black dress you had picked out a few weeks ago, along with Roman’s favorite silk lingerie set, you went back downstairs to continue to set the scene for Roman when he returned from work. You scattered candles around the room and played an old jazz record to soothe any worry or anxiety from your boyfriend once he entered your shared home. You wanted everything to be perfect, he deserved it.

As you finished and Anna and Conway were wrapping up the meal, you heard someone placing a key in the front door. You turned to see Roman’s tall silhouette through the frosted glass and you couldn’t keep the smile off your lips.

When he walked through the door, he looked exhausted. His eyes were haloed in shadows and he was gaunt, his pale skin pasty and dull. He looked about ready to collapse.

Until he saw you.

“Welcome home.” You said, a wide grin on your features.

“What’s all this?” Roman asked as you met him by the door.

“I know how stressed you’ve been and I wanted to set up a nice evening for the two of us.” You replied as you pushed his coat off his shoulders and held out for Conway to take.

Roman glanced over your shoulder to see the extent of the fuss you had made for him and his shoulders visibly relaxed, “You’re amazing.”

You took both his hands and started to walk back toward the table, “That I am, and I have a little surprise for you after dinner.”

Roman tugs you to him suddenly, causing you to stumble a bit in your heels, but that only accomplished to bring you flush to him.

“Is my surprise under this sexy little get up of yours?” Roman’s eyes twinkle with lust as he moves his hands down to grip your ass.

You hum with delight, “I guess you have two surprises coming, then.”

You lean up to place a lingering kiss to his lips and Roman groans a curse as you step away from his hold.

“But for now, let’s eat and unwind. How was your day?” You ask, pulling out Roman’s chair for him.

“Better now.” He grinned, one that was without smare or ulterior motive. Just a pure smile radiating happiness.

After you chatted about your days and Roman having bitched about work to his heart’s content, you both finished the delicious dinner that was prepared for you. You had moved across the table to sit on his lap while you both shared a chocolate mousse, the gentle ping of the silver spoon against the serving glass lulling you both into calm relaxation and sloth as you ate the rich dessert.

Roman’s temple was pressed against your exposed cleavage, practically purring with the bliss he felt.

“Thank you for tonight, baby. I needed it.” He sighed, turning his head just enough to let you kiss his lips.

“Of course, my love.” You responded, stroking your hand through his hair, “I’d pluck the stars from the sky if it’d make you happy.”

“Hey,” Roman smiles, poking your side, “That’s my line.”

You giggle as Roman prodes you, “Well, while I’m taking your lines, let me take another. I got you something and I need to go and get it.”

“You know I don’t need anything.” Roman says, squeezing you once more before you got off his lap.

“This present is something you need, trust me.” You say over your shoulder as you exit the kitchen and enter the garage to get the gift box you had prepared.

Was this all very dramatic? Yes. Over the top? Of course.

But you loved pampering Roman, so you threw all cares to the wind.

As you entered the kitchen with the rectangular black gift box held together with a silk ribbon, Roman looked at you confused.

“Jeez, what is that? Is my mother’s head in there?” He asked as he watched you place the box on the dining table.

“I wish.” You chuckled, dusting your hands off on your dress as you looked into Roman’s puzzled expression, “Open it.”

Unable to even guess what could be in the box, Roman stood up and walked toward you and where it lay.

“It’s not gonna be anything that’s gonna pop out at me, right?”

“Oh my God, stop being such a bitch and open it already!” You laugh, nudging him with your shoulder as you quaked with excitement.

Roman finally pulled on the black ribbon and slowly untied it, causing the sides of the box to fall apart and reveal it’s contents.

“Surprise!” You said, jumping slightly in place, barely able to keep your excitement to yourself as Roman took in the gift.

He just looked at the blood blankly, all placed in a row before him. His mouth hung open, but he said nothing.

“How did you get this?”

“Well, that’s the extra special part. It’s mine,” You gestured to the blood, “It’s all from me.”

Roman looked up at you, and the appreciation you’d thought you’d see written all over his face wasn’t there. Instead his face was red with anger.

“How could you do this? How could you be so reckless!” Roman raged.

Your heart sank with embarrassment and grief.

“I thought you’d like it.”  

“Like it? Baby, why would I like you taking your blood to give to me? Do you know how dangerous this is? Do you!” You cowered under his voice, lip quivering.

“I thought you would be happy, I thought I was helping. Now you don’t have to worry about feeding or hurting anyone. I can just give blood every now and then and give it to you.” You responded, trying desperately to mend the evening.

“How did you even do this? How did you figure this out?” Roman picked up one of the bags and furiously tossed it back down.

You furrowed your brows and took a step toward your boyfriend, “OK, so don’t get mad- well, don’t get more mad I guess… but I asked Pryce-”

“You asked Pryce?” Roman shrieked, his eyes bulging from his head.

“Yes! But it wasn’t his idea, it was mine. The whole thing was my idea and all he did was help me and make sure I was safe.” You said quickly as Roman paced the length of the table in front of you.

“I’m going to kill him. I’m going to kill that stupid little prick and rip his cock off and shove it down his throat!” Roman bellowed.

“Ro, it’s not his fault,”

“It is! He let you do this! Indulged you! He fucking put a needle in your arm and touched you!” It was then that Roman finally zeroed in on the small circular band aid on the inner crook of your elbow and his face passed its red hue into bright crimson.

“Pryce never touched me! He had a lab tech help me.”

“Then I’m killing the tech, then Pryce, then everyone in that fucking nut house of a lab who knew this was happening and didn’t tell me!”

“Stop!” You shouted over Roman’s angry rant, “Enough! This wasn’t anyone’s fault but my own, apparently. I fucked up, I can see that now. But I honestly and truly thought you would love this. That you could be satiated from my blood and never worry about where the next source would come from. But hey? Guess I was wrong.”

Tears threatened to spill from your eyes as you turned on your heel to leave.

“(Y/N),” Roman called after you but you stuck up your hand to silence him.

“No, I just want to go to sleep. I’ll see you in bed.” And you walked up the stairs to leave your boyfriend stewing in his own ire.

Stripped from your dress and lingerie, you lay under the thick covers of the bed and mindlessly watch some old re-run of a sitcom. It had been well over an hour since you had left Roman in the kitchen and each second he stayed away was another second of heartbreak and humiliation. You still weren’t sure why Roman had blown up the way he did… sure it was risky, but nothing that you couldn’t handle. You were a grown fucking woman who knew her own limits. You had picked up the supplements Pryce had prescribed you and you had been feeling perfectly fine. If you ever started to feel any effects, you knew you would head straight to Pryce or your primary doctor.

As another commercial break washed over the screen, Roman opened the door to the bedroom and peeked his head inside.

“You OK?”

“No.”

Roman sighed as he came fully into the room and shut the door behind himself, leaning against it.

“Listen, I’m sorry about the scene down there…”

“I’m sorry, too. I should have asked you first if you would have been OK with me doing this for you.” You slumped your shoulder into the mattress.

Roman just watched you.

“I just… Roman, I really thought you would like it! I thought you might even be grateful. I really meant what I said downstairs, I would give you a star if that would make you happy, I really would. And I thought helping solve your feeding problem would make you happy, and it didn’t, so I’m sorry.”

Still Roman stayed silent, just studying you, wrapped in a coil of thick blankets. He soon walked toward the bed and sat on the corner, his back facing you. He hunched over and placed his head in his hands, gently shook it side to side.

“I was never really even that mad at you, baby. Just at Pryce, I guess. And scared…”

“Scared about what?”

“Seriously? You’re going to ask that?” Roman glowered.

You kicked your foot out to the edge he was sitting on to jostle him, “Don’t be an asshole.”

He grumbled something under his breath that you sure was unkind before he continued.

“I was obviously fucking scared because this could go wrong, alright? You could get sick or stop clotting or something! I don’t know. I don’t have to be rational when it comes to your safety and health.”

You rolled your eyes at that comment, “I thought I was being rational coming up with this idea, Roman. In my head, this would solve everything. No more leeches or starving or worrying that you’ll kill someone when it gets too much!”

Roman looked back at you, his eyes intense as your cheeks heated with your outburst.

“I just-! Fuck,” He turned back around, bouncing his knee, “I don’t want you to do this for me and something bad happening. That’s it, that’s all.”

You frown and whisper his name, just loud enough for him to hear.

“And because you went to Pryce and not me… and that no one at my own fucking company told me about this. Fucking traitors.”

You shuffled your way out from the blankets and crawled your way toward Roman, placing a gentle hand to his shoulder to gage his reaction before you moved to hug him.

“I’m not going to get hurt, I promise. Pryce told me where to buy some vitamins to keep me healthy and they have been working. I won’t continue if I start to feel sick. And if by some chance I do, you will be the first person I tell.”

Roman says nothing at first, but you knew he heard you. You placed a few simple kisses to his shoulder and wound your arms tighter around his waist, snuggling to him.

“I want to know the second you start to feel anything less than fantastic, OK? If you feel faint or nauseous or even if you have a fucking headache, alright? I’m not fucking around here.” He replied firmly.

A smile spread across your face and you pressed it to his skin, “Of course, baby. No more secrets ever again.”

“Yeah, yeah…” Roman trailed off with a sigh, but leaning into your touch.

“You know,” You started, moving around his neck to see his face, “I thought the idea of you drinking my blood was very romantic. Maybe even erotic.”

Roman moved to give you a quizzical look and you only grinned wider.

“Something about giving myself to you fully, running through your veins, letting you have all of me, you don’t think that’s romantic?”

Roman’s lips began to pull into his signature smirk, “I think I was little more taken by your erotic comment.”

You giggled and playfully bit his shoulder, “I don’t know, I think about watching you drink it… about you covered in it and knowing it’s from me,”

Roman was quick to grab you and manhandle you around him and into his lap.

“Yeah?” He asked, smirk persistent as his hands explored your body.

“Yeah… knowing you drink my blood, my cum, that you’re the only one who knows my taste… it got me all hot, baby.”

Roman groaned deep in his chest as he dug his fingers into your hips, twitching his hips up against you and making your eyes flutter.

“My baby, my girl,” He hummed, leaning forward to ghost his lips over your own, “You drive me absolutely wild.”

“All better now?”

Roman just chuckles, grinding you down onto him.

“And you’ll drink the blood?”

“Yeah, fine,” And he finally kisses you.

You knew that he was playing it off now like it was nothing, but the honesty you had shown him, and the utter devotion you had just pledged, meant something to him. It meant everything to him.

i really hope you enjoyed!!!! if you do, i’d love to hear your thoughts (:

[ectora]

REVIEW 311

Screen time

Macy : 23m26s

Maggie : 20m07s

Mel : 18m25s

Harry : 13m20s

Abigael : 5m02s

Jordan : 4m28s

Here is a table with the details of the time shared

Opinions

In a general manner I enjoyed the episode. It was entertaining and well passed. I don’t think it was their strongest episode so far but it was an entertaining one. It finally started to connect the other characters to the main storyline but also felt almost like a filler for the sisters. I also think the show should have maybe showed more consequences and different good things for the sisters. Because except for Mel (and I’ll come back to that later), the good things that happened to Maggie and Macy are pretty normal. It’s not like Maggie didn’t work for that internship. It’s not like a free legal clinic would get bad press. Or that it can’t happen to be upgraded in a hotel. Like yes what happened to antonio and that old man was really bad but at the same time it just didn’t feel like the sisters were gaining that much from it. Maybe if they had sticked to only it being the consequences of what they had to do to get the allergy off or something, rather than good things that could have normally happened, happening. I’m not sure that nakes sense but well lmao

Positive points:

The perfecti. They’re actually really entertaining on screens and are just funny. I think they were a great idea and a good addition to the story. And I’m genuinely excited to see more of them and how they’re story is going to unfold.

Josefina getting her powers. I’m glad they ended up giving her her powers with “wakening spell” similar to the one the sisters needed when they became witches. I really like her powers as well it’s so fitting.

Macy smiling. I have my issues with how the whole thing happened and I’ll take about it later but I’m glad she was finally able to catch a break. The show is often giving her storylines without a lot of time for her to just breath and I’m glad she finally got the opportunity to do so.

Abigael and Jordan. Listen, I just have a soft spot for their friendship. I just enjoy watching them. Tbh they both have easy chemistry with everyone but these two together just gives me good vibes. I just like them together on screen. I also liked how absolutely soft he was with her. And how she easily recognise his qualities. I just love them individually and together.

Maggie finally getting some therapy. I’m glad they’re finally giving that to her. Now can they extend that to like ... literally every single one of their main characters cause they all need it.

Josefina and Mel. As always their scene were really enjoyable. I think it’s always nice to see Mel show other people magic isn’t their only power. And I like how it shows how understanding and empathetic Mel really can be.

Mel and Maggie. Once again, their bond is so sweet and feels very natural. I just love seeing them share normal sisterly moments.

Negative points :

those are only going to be the actual negative points I have. Others that are more like annoyance, I’ll put them with the remarks.

Ruby. I’m just tired of this show giving zero effort to that relationship. I’m a big time abimel shipper but the treatment they give melby is just disrespectful at this point. They had one little moment where they said “oh she isn’t here” and then that’s it. Not even pretending to be on the phone. Or a text message. Nada. This needs to be fixed. Either get on it or get rid of it. But enough. Especially when you compare it to how they treat the straights.

Abigael’s story. Apparently some people don’t make the connexion with self harm, but to me said connexion is pretty obvious. More and more obvious especially after last episode where they showed us Abigael hurting herself directly. It was graphic and kinda unnecessary imo. I think the story itself, of having Abigael’s sides fight each other is interesting but the way they approached it was very careless and if they continue being so adamant about showing us how broken abi is, they need to actually be careful how they handle this.

Things that just don’t make sense:

Did no one tell Maggie about Jordan being cured ? I’m so confused 😭

Mel. Again, is no one ever going to talk about the fact she never finished her phd in season 1 ? Or didn’t have any teaching experience. I know it’s a small things that’s probably never going to be brought up but it’s been nagging me djdhd

At the end of the episode when they go back to putting the egg, suddenly the air isn’t toxic anymore and it’s small but i realised right away and just haven’t been able to get it out of my head.

Same with Josefina and the book. Mel was right there. Couldn’t she have taken it ? 😭

Why did Harry and Macy took the portal to Paris ? Why just not orb.

I’m still confused by the whole demon trying to kill the witch side of Abby to be honest. Like I’m not sure how hurting her physical body is going to do anything ? Isnt her demon part gonna die too then ? Parker’s made more sense because it was like a sickness, you could say the magical cells were killing he humans ones or something. But here ? I’m confused.

Talking about demon abi, ... why this ugly ass dress. I understand the reason for different noticeable clothes but why does it need to be this ugly. Abigael Jameson-Caine is too fashionable for this.

The entire book of shadow thing like ? Did we just forgot Mel presented the book to Josefina the episode before ? Are we just erasing that from our memories ? What’s happening.

How they gonna freeze the therapist and then just leave a note like is she not supposed to unfreeze ? Maggie is just gonna be gone ? And with a sudden note on her laps ? What.

Remarks & speculations

Hacy. I don’t dislike the couple don’t get me wrong. I think they’re sweet. But the show focuses too much on that relationship. Macy barely feels like she has a story outside of it at this point. At least Harry has the whole white lighter thing but again the reason he wants to be mortal is Macy so ... if just feels like the show continues to centre these two characters toward each other first. However it was great to see Macy happy. But again like The sisters had one hug and then that was if.

I’m really sad we didn’t actually see Macy and Josefina interact. Or that we won’t see her reach them a bit more about her magic and the whole new side they don’t know about.

My babies in the tomb. I’m just really wondering what the deal with the perfecti. Are they so big on duality, good and bad that it’s to an extreme that is dangerous ? Abigael in some ways I can understand. She’s the demon overlord. She’s powerful. Her demon form tried to go after TCO. But Jordan ? Was he just a collateral damage ? Did they judge him bad because he was with abi ? Because he was cursed ? Or is it a plan they have that involved isolating TCO ? (I doubt it but still a possibility). I mean he was probably out there cause he was helping abi but then it being strong questions about the perfecti’s moralities and visions of the world. Cannot wait to see more.

Abigael was ... broken to say the least. Kudo to poppy for that, Abigael looked absolutely exhausted. You could feel the fear and exhaustion in everything she did. And I feel bad for her because she’s not only mentally exhausted but physically too. She can’t sleep safely. And I don’t know if everyone realised the level all this must have reached for Abigael to be ready to give up everything. Because she is different from the sisters on this, she grew up as a magical being. That has been her entire life. What has been defining her since birth. For her to be so ready to give everything up so she could finally just find some peace ... she’s literally at her limits.

Talking about abi. We know the sisters are gonna try to help Jordan in episode 13 but does that mean they don’t realise Jordan is gone until then ? So it’s easy to assume 312 will also have abi/jordy mostly and in the tomb. Speculations - if the synopsis of 312 is indeed about saving Jordan from the tomb and not something else - is that they’ll realise on site than Abigael is stuck too and will help her as well. Unless she does something good to help jordan and because of that they decided to get her out too. That could connect both story and have a start on the redemption.

Also while abi is gone are the demons just gonna wait around ? Like the fact they all just willingly followed her rules doesn’t seem realistic but even less when the girl is no where to be found.

I just want Mel to get a proper storyline. And Macy too. Maggie I feel is actually the best written one development wise out of all of them.

I think they brought the storyline of Harry being worried about his age and waiting to be mortal too early. He has a good ten years on Macy anyway. And they barely started dating. There are already a lot of things going on and I genuinely feel like they should have left that for next season at least.

Highlights

Maggie in therapy. “You seem like you have a lot of demons” “are you under a lot of stress” was genuinely funny. Maggie is so naturally funny I really love her for it.

Mel saying there isn’t another shoe to drop and demon Abigael saying hold me beer.

The dogs that does math. Don’t ask me why it’s just funny.

Josefina using her powers after realising she still has them

Macy’s face when Harry told her about becoming mortal as if he isn’t constantly talking about it djdhd

Abigael’s soft “jordy”

Celebrating later, running now

The entire witch ceremony at the end.

[imaginesupply]

Warm me up - Loki x Reader imagine

Alright, so after complaining that no one had yet written a Loki imagine that included cockwarming, I decided to write one myself. Be aware that it’s 2am in Paris, that I haven’t written anything in ages and that English is still not my main language, so please forgive any weird wordings or mistakes you might find in this. I did proofread it, but you know…

I also feel like I messed up Loki’s portrayal?

Includes: Jotun!Loki, mild cursing, mild smut, very minor angst, fluff and ugly pajamas.

Word count: About 2800.

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Waiting impatiently for the elevator to take her to the second highest floor, she clutched the pillow tighter to her chest, trying to stifle a yawn.

Tony had texted her as soon as they'd gotten back from some overly complex mission that wasn't even taking place in this realm - if she'd correctly understood while eavesdropping on the team, that is, given that Loki tried to keep her in the dark most of the time because apparently her life expectancy was already 'frighteningly short' and he refused to do anything that could potentially shorten it even more. There had also been a part about  him wanting to get his hands on one of those 'incredibly sneaky Idunn apples’ but she wasn’t sure what that meant.

Maybe he could try learning how to text, that would certainly make her live longer and a lot more stress free, she mused.

Right now, she was just overly excited to see him again for the first time in eight days. Tony had told her Loki was exhausted and had gone straight to bed upon their arrival. She couldn't help but find it a little bit odd - usually he'd go straight to her room five floors below when he came back from a mission, but she tried not to worry too much.

The elevator came to a halt and she was hurrying to his room before the doors had even fully slid open. Her feet slipped on the polished floor, her socks not allowing for much grip but she was sure it was worth the risk of a bruised bum if it meant she'd get to Loki a few seconds earlier.

"Hey fluffy socks!" Tony called after her when she passed him in the kitchen. She had hoped he hadn't seen her since he was staring into the open fridge but apparently Iron Man had eyes on his butt or something.

For a split second, she considered ignoring him but he was her boss after all, and a very generous one at that, allowing her to live in the tower.

"Yes?"

Now that he had her attention, he first drowned his full tumbler of Scotch before actually speaking to her. Couldn't he just say what he had to say?

"Are you going to see Loki?"

She raised her eyebrows at him. Was he seriously asking her that?! Why else would she would she be running in the hallway at 2 in the morning in her pajamas?

"Right, stupid question, sorry. Look, we ran into some unforeseen complications and Loki, well..."

"Was he injured?" She blurted out instantly, eyes wide with fear but to her relief, Tony quickly shook his head.

"Not really. There are no wounds but he had to use a lot of that weird seidr of his to get us out of there and now he - he is... feverish?"

She could hear it in her boss' voice that he was unsure of his own choice of words. A fever? But Loki was an alien God or a Frost Giant or whatever, surely he couldn't get a fever?

"Okay. Thanks for the heads up!" She replied way more cheerfully than she actually felt, hoping Tony wouldn’t stop her if she looked okay.

It was with a sense of dread that she now walked the rest of the way to Loki's room. Once at his door, she was surprised he hadn't locked it and - wait! Was that ice on the handle?

Pushing the door open, she let her pillow fall to the floor as she was met with an unexpected wave of cold that immediately had her chilled to the bones. What the hell? Whispering for FRIDAY to turn on the small night lamp, she was startled by the state she found his room in, but most importantly by what she found on the bed.

Loki was lying in bed, covers drawn up to his chin, only he wasn't in his Æsir form. "Shit!" She cursed in a whisper, stepping on the thin layer of ice that had formed on the floor until she got to his side.

His skin was a deep shade of blue but for the white intricate markings adorning it. Something was very wrong with him, she realized. His Jotun form didn't bother her. To be honest, she actually found him rather attractive like that in a weird alien sort of way. However, she knew Loki wasn't comfortable with that aspect of himself and he'd never revert to his Jotun shape unless he didn't have the strength to keep on his Æsir appearance.

Softly, she lowered her hand to his cheek only to hiss in pain as soon as her skin made contact with his. The tip of her finger had turned purple in the split second it had made contact with him. She had almost gotten frostbite just from touching him!

In a panic-induced rush, she hurried over to the control center on the charcoal painted wall and turned the heat to the highest setting. She knew he was colder in his Jotun form, but not that cold. She had touched him like this before, but she had found his lower temperature refreshing, causing her nothing more than a pleasant shiver.

The next step was the en-suite bathroom where she dropped some rags into the hottest water that would come out from the tab, and put some towels to warm up by the heater.

Humans were warm blooded but you had to cool them down when they had a fever. So, by analogy, Frost Giants being cold blooded, she had to warm him up, right?

In truth, she wasn't entirely convinced of her logic but it was the only solution she came up with. Quickly, she walked back into the bedroom, bending down at his side to place some hot rags on his forehead and around his hands.

"Loki?" She whispered worriedly when he didn't open his eyes, but his face remained unchanged, the small frown not leaving his features.

Carefully, she pulled back the covers only to notice he had managed to freeze his clothes solid. Not waiting another moment, she started undressing him which was easier said than done because one, he was still wearing his battle gear; two, although his clothes weren't as cold as his skin, touching them was still painful like holding a frozen snowball in her naked hands and three, he was a lot heavier than you'd expect from his lean body.

With clenched teeth, she managed to get rid of the layers on the top half of his body until she was met with his naked blue torso before unzipping his leather pants and pulling them down with his underwear.

Oh - oh! Well, that's certainly interesting, she couldn't help but lose focus for a second as she saw his Jotun body naked for the first time. I'll definitely keep that in mind next time things are getting frisky and he isn't quite literally freezing to death in front of me. With another hard pull - that drove her backwards with such force, it was a wonder her butt didn't collide with the floor - she managed to get him out of the rest of his frozen clothes.Now, I know why he always uses seidr to undress. Leather is pain to take off!

"Love... is that you?"

Tears of relief slid down her face almost instantly at the sound of his voice. "Yes!" She pretty much shouted before tiptoeing around the bed until she was right at his side. "Yes , Loki, it's me. How do you-?"

"You need to leave," he grunted between clenched teeth, trying to pull himself upright by the strength of his arms but not quite succeeding. "Now!"

She could tell his was trying hard to keep his crimson eyes open as he glared at her, as if hoping it would scare her away.

"I'm not leaving until you feel better," she crooned softly, hesitantly lowering her hand to caress his cheek. It was still way too cold but there was no longer a risk of getting frostbite.

Without a warning, Loki tried swatting her hand away, but his hand movement was much less grateful than habitually. He was actually shivering, she realized.

Resigned after lacking the strength to pry her hand away by force, he closed his eyes tightly, his nostrils flaring as he took a deep breath. "I don't want you to see me like this. So, will you please leave alone or do I have to make you leave?"

He had meant to draw her away by hurting her feelings, but she could see right through him - masking vulnerability with anger. In a sense, he did manage to hurt her feelings as her heart now broke for him. Was he so unused to people actually caring and looking after him?

"If I leave, I'll have to send someone else in to take care of you. It's your call, Loki." His red eyes opened wide at her threat and he immediately shook his head. "See? That wasn't too hard. Now, one more time, how do you feel?"

Loki groaned, obviously uncomfortable by the whole situation. "To use your midgardian slang, I feel like I've been hit by a bus."

She rolled her eyes at him, something she never dared to do when he was in his normal capacity because the only time she had dared to, he had responded by using his seidr to tickle her to tears. "I'm serious."

"Fine! I feel as if my body has been frozen from the inside."

Now that Loki was actually cooperating, she felt like they were getting somewhere. First, she made him drink a full glass of water and asked him if he was hungry but he only rolled his eyes at that. He's still Loki, after all.

The towels she had put over the radiator were now warm enough to drape over his body. Not waiting for his approval because knowing him, he'd play difficult, she pulled back the covers once again so she could wrap the homemade heating pad around his body.

He stared at her, brows furrowed in confusion, as she lifted, first his right shoulder, then his left one, to tuck the towel beneath them. How was she not disgusted by him, he couldn't help but wonder. Not only was he weak right now, but he looked like those monsters children were afraid of. And yet, he couldn't help the sense of warmth that washed over him at knowing that she accepted him whatever his heritage. That was more than he could say about his own father.

She continued with her task, trying to build a warm cocoon around him but she couldn't help herself from tracing some of the intricate silvery markings with her fingertips. A few lines ran from his chest down to his stomach, others only started at the level of his belly button and had more a twirl to them, leading straight to his -

"Oh, someone is happy, it seems," she chuckled when she noticed his erection standing proudly despite the cold. It actually appeared to be a deeper shade of blue than the rest of him, with a slightly upward curve.

Instead of seeming pointlessly embarrassed by his body's natural reaction, especially given the lack of disgust she had expressed, Loki actually looked rather smug. "Well, someone's is being rather handsy."

She huffed, somehow feeling herself blush as she looked at him. "Well, someone has been trying to help someone else warm up."

"Well, someone knows of other ways you can help someone warm up." Loki used the second that it took her to get his innuendo, to take her by surprise and pull her closer him, until she was pretty much straddling his body.

And then he kissed her. A gasp escaped her as his cold lips made contact with the sensitive skin of hers. It was almost like kissing an ice cube... but an ice cube that tasted of Loki, of mischief, of home. Only when his tongue prodded for entrance, did she realize what they were doing.

Pulling back a little to break the kiss that had her lightly panting as she carefully pushed his shoulders down into the pillow, she was quite certain he let out a little frustrated whine. "We should not be doing this," she admonished them both before sitting back on her butt, accidentally causing some very pleasant friction that had the, both moaning at the sensation. She had to bite her lower lip to keep her resolve, "right now, you are in no state for such activities."

Instead of coming up with a lokiworthy line, she watched as his face took on a focused look before turning into a frown. Was he seriously trying to seidr her clothes away right now?

"That's exactly my point," she couldn't stop her giggle as she bent forward to kiss the tip of his nose. She had always wanted to that but he was too tall and always too fast, managing to turn his face away from her and kissing her cheek instead. A girl has to take the chances that presented themselves to her.

"But I want to be inside of you, to feel your tight warmth around me," Loki drawled, softly thrusting up his hips to prove his point.

She actually whimpered at the contact - needy Loki did things to her, it seemed. Wetting her lips before nodding once, she quickly stepped away from him.

Loki followed her movements with his eyes, the disappointed look in his eyes rapidly turning to excitement when he realized she had only stepped away to discard those ridiculous cat-print pajamas of hers. Despite the radiators being at their highest capacity, her nipples pebbled almost painfully as she resumed her position above him, the chill that emanated from his body still quite noticeable.

Both let out little sounds of pleasure as the friction was now stronger without any fabric acting as a barrier between their bodies. She couldn't help but to grind her hips against his before leaning down to kiss him.

There was a power surge suddenly rising up in her when she realized that - for the first time - Loki was at her mercy. Usually, when she was on top, it was because he let her be on top. And even then, it was him who set the pace.

From his reactions when she traced them with her fingers, she gathered that the silvery lines adorning his skin were particularly sensitive. They also stood out a little, almost like scarifications and the best was that they down there as well. Alright, let's not get ourselves carried away, her inner voice reminded her.

When she slid her hand between their bodies to guide himself inside her warmth, she had to stop herself from grinning at the look on his face - like a Frost Giant boy who had just spotted a bag of candies. If they had candy in Jotunheim, she actually didn't know.

Loki groaned, throwing his head back and exposing his long blue neck to her as she impaled herself on his cock. It was quite a stretch, even more so than in his Æsir form and she felt incredibly full with him inside, the ridges only adding to that sensation. Focus, girl!

At her stillness, Loki impatiently thrust his hips upwards but she was quick to press his body down against the mattress. He looked up at her, confusion written across his face even as his grip tightened on her hips. Surely, she wouldn't do that to him, would she?

She smirked at his reaction even though she wanted this wanted this as much as him. "You only asked to feel my warmth around you," she explained coyly.

His crimson turned a shade darker. "You are a very reasonable person, love, surely you cannot expect me -"

"Shh," she hushed him with her index finger to his lips. "If you are too weak to overpower me, you are too weak for sexy times. For now, I'm going to warm you up. Afterwards, you can do whatever you want with me," she promised just as she felt him twitch inside her. Focus!

Without waiting for his response, she lowered herself until the upper half of her body was lying over his torso and she was cuddled against him.

His muscles gradually relaxed as he came to the conclusion that he wouldn’t be able to convince her. Sighing, he nuzzled his nose into her hair. Gosh, she smelled of whatever Valhalla was made of! And if he was honest with himself, being like this was rather comforting, the ability of feeling her everywhere somehow making him forget that a whole world existed beyond the cocoon of her body.

"Fine," he complained a little theatrically, "but I'll hold you to your word."

Within minutes, both were soundly asleep. Not only was it the early hours of the morning, but he had exerted himself more during the mission than he wanted to admit and she never got much sleep when he was away.

Hours later, she found herself being woken up by a rhythmic rocking movement that she would gladly have compared to a calm boat ride if there was the biggest storm in the century and the boat was ramming into her.

With a gasp caused by sudden pleasure, she opened her eyes to find Loki thrusting into her with a mischievous smirk. "It seems your technique got me warmed up in no time, love."

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Let me know what you guys think!

[the-slasher-files]

DIFFERENT PREDATORS - chapter 4

INCLUDES ANDREI KULOKOVA x XAVIERA LAH-MO

Loving writing for this couple so so much! This literally feels like a movie and it has over taken my life. In this chapter we get to look at feral Andrei in full form, which is so cool to write for. Just a warning it is very gory. Make sure to read part one, two and three.

Also please go read @horrorslashergirl oc Xaviera’s perspective on the chapter linked HERE

MASTERLIST

Soft breathes filled the room as both predators came down gently from their high. Andrei ran his tattooed palm along Xaviera’s naked shoulder she shuddered at his touch, her icy blue eyes were now a calm blue as she watched him light a cigarette with his free hand, blowing the smoke away from her in an unconsciously kind way. The wolf had taken what was his again from the world and it felt so right, better than any time before, and he was comfortable tonight, just laying together.

Looking back down at her his eyes were calm, and jaw ebbed of the tension and control, the wolf was down. She breathed slowly and strong, her soft skin gleamed with a fine sheen of sweat in the low light. She was the perfect prey.

“So… How was your first time?” He asked, taking another drag of his cigarette.  “everything you wanted it to be?” His cockiness apparent in his question.  

Xaviera took a moment with the question, maybe put off but his cocky ways like most but she hummed and replied with a flash of cheekiness “Mhmmm….Always pictured that my first time would be with a wolf. I guess I am more fond of feral beasts.”  

Andrei gave a huff of a laughter appreciating the many sides of her personality, she continued to match him whole heartedly. “Well aren’t you lucky.” He waited for her to continue but was comfortable in the silent pause, but noticed something in her eyes, she was looking at his cigarette that lazily hung from his lips. Andrei took a drag again but blowing the smoke closer to her to see if she liked the taste, “Would you like one?”    

Xaviera perked up at the question, and she took from his cheap Russian pack that he had offered up. Taking a slow drag she sighed contently, allowing the smoke to billow to wisp around her, framing her face. “Haven’t smoked since college. Sleepless nights full of studying.” Xaviera spoke looking up at Andrei through thick lashes and licking her lips.

“Y'know you look hot with a cigarette hanging out of those soft lips…” the wolf whispered, leaning in close to her face blowing smoke directly at her and capturing it in a kiss. He savored his favorite taste of tobacco and her sweetness with a hint of left over cum in the kiss the wolf moaned. Pulling away Andrei took the cigarette from her hand only to put his down in the ashtray and finish hers, a trait of the beasts playfulness. “You shouldn't smoke.. its bad for you” he smiled.  

She smiled in return and rubbed her nose on his own as animals do in affection.  "I know.... That's why I gave up smoking after college." she told Andrei, looking up at him from under her eyelashes.  

Andrei was breaking slowly and surly like a house with a cracked foundation and she was seeping through the cracks. He nodded “you must have a good strong will then myshka.”  

Putting down the cigarette in the ash tray one of his large hands rubbed her side while the other interlocked with her small hand, watching intensity as the wolf engulfed her hand with his. Bending the top of his fingers on hers, pulling away slightly and letting her trace his tattoo. Andrei kissed her forehead, closing his eyes trying desperately to be ok with the intimacy.

“When you lived most of your life among creatures that could kill you in a matter of seconds, you have to be always careful. Never underestimate someone by appearance. That’s what my father used to tell me…” she found herself telling him.

Andrei tightened his grip on the small woman, holding her close and telling her it was ok. He too had learned the same listen; His uncle was a paranoid mess, worried of anyone and putting fear in the hearts of Andrei and his sister at a young age, that absolutely anyone could rip them apart, mentally and physically. Then the fear only grew stronger as Andrei went to the army, undercover with some of Russia’s most dangerous people, no matter that their size. He learned to not be surprised with it anymore.

Humming and listening to the vulnerability, appreciating it. “A wise man” Andrei whispered into her white hair, letting her continue and taking in her sweet smell.

Xaviera bit her lip as she was compilating if she would continue. She was so cute when she bit her lip. Tugging at the stony heart people had created for him, but the way she curled into him, and the soft soothing voice made him feel at home. Xaviera saw through his beastly ways and saw the man underneath.

“Yes, he was. He always knew what to say and how to solve any problem…If it wasn’t for him…I wouldn’t have been here today.” she tells Andrei, curling her body against his much bigger one, seeking protection and comfort in a silent way he was more than happy to provide.    

Andrei pulled in a deep breath, considering to tell her his family life as well, but he paused. The wolf biting his neck forcing him into submitting but he brushed it off. Who knew if he was even going to see her again. What did it matter.

“My.. uh, my dad was killed when I was young boy, just leaving me, my uncle, sister and..” his breath hitched slightly “my mother…. but um.. she was murdered when I was 12” Andrei shifted uncomfortably with his vulnerability, but tugged her close as a form of comfort, something he did with his sister growing up.

“She must have been a wonderful and beautiful woman... My mother... S-She was killed too... A-Along with my father.” she began to tell him with a shake in her voice, a breaking predator in his large hands. “My father was killed by poachers in a trip to Africa….Me and my mother run…B-But….She saved me….Giving her life. T-They killed her too…..She hid me into the hallow of a tree….A-And after they left her body…..T-The hyneas….T-They devoured her….They ripped her face apart.” Xaviera began to cry, walls tumbling down around her and allowed Andrei to pick up the pieces.

“I had to watch until she was a mess of flesh and bones.” she choked on a sob, her face buried into his chest. “I-I was so weak.” she breathed out.

Andrei’s heart was ripping and tearing as she shook, telling him the horrors she had been through. A deep part of his soul sympathizing with her; they had both seen the mangled, broken corpses of their mothers, with a beast looming over them. Unfortunately, Andrei was the beast in his story, but he wasn’t going to tell her now, that was for a different night.  

Feeling the deep sobs and broken words spilling from her sweet lips he held her strong and instinctively, wanting to protect her. “ssssh… little one…” Andrei pulled back slightly meeting her red eyes, cupping her jaw and wiping the tears away. “It was never your fault… Beasts take and take from this world with greed, no mercy… and it is no one’s fault” Andrei’s soul was reassuring himself more so than Xaviera at this point, and he glanced at his tattoo, reading it, the words ‘NO GODS’ screamed in his head. He wanted to blame god for what he did, what had happened, what he took from him, but the true danger was people. Not the beasts. There were no gods to blame.

Her gaze met his in a soft reassurance. “That’s why I hate most humans so much….Humans call animals beasts but they are the ones.” she whispered, letting the last tears fall down her cheeks. “Animals aren’t greedy, vain… They do it to survive…. Humans are conducted by their avarice.” she spoke, taking one of his big hands in both her tiny ones, bringing his hand to her lips, kissing his knuckles, then her eyes drifted to the big scars on her thigh.

Fuck, she was killing him. Speaking his brutal but beautiful language. Her gentle affection was something new for him, something no one had ever shown the wolf, but he liked it, he could learn this gentle nature from her.

“I got this one from a mother Grizzly. Me and my dad encountered the cubs first and because I was young and foolish… She attacked me….. My dad saved me, but the Grizzly left a souvenir.” she spoke, looking from the claw marks to Andrei. “I learned not to be afraid of the wild animals… But also respect them. Respect what can kill you.” Nuzzling into him like a little cat.

Andrei’s eyes widened at the thought of a grizzly coming after her, she was so small but so tough. Xaviera held the quiet power of beasts within her but covered it in a gentle grace, something he was less than skilled at.

He took his free large hand and brought it down to her thigh tracing the scar like it was art, Xaviera shivered at his touch. Bringing his lips to her forehead he spoke “Well thank you for respecting me” he laughed, trying to lighten the deep moment.

She snorted and rolled her blue eyes at his smug joke, "Yes, yes. I respect you, all high and mighty Alpha Wolf." She cheekily told him, one of her fingers scratching under his chin playfully, like one would do to a dog, he just shook his head at the playful endearing energy she had.

"Just don't step on my tail or I am gonna bite your precious jewels off." she whispered against his lips, her blue eyes glinting. Andrei’s eyes went sharp again at her words, ready to pounce at her again. He took her lips in a deep kiss, grinning at the end and pulling away, sexual thoughts filling his head with the mention of her mouth being that close to his manhood.

“Go ahead and try it precious kitten” Andrei rolled Xaviera on top of him now, placing his hands on her hips for a moment until bring them to the sides of her neck, the wolf inside wanted to turn the action deadly but he inhaled and brought her down into a kiss again.

She kissed him back as he did, her small hands moving to touch his bigger ones that were rested on her neck. “I love it when you touch my neck.” Xaviera whispered into the kiss, her thumbs stroking his knuckles.

The wolf wanted to take her over and over again by the way she would speak to him, letting a fire and holding it strong within him, but he needed to relax. She was so small, so tempting, bones so easy to break under his hands.

His jaw tensed as his fingers went tighter around her throat, not enough to choke for Andrei controlled himself. “Be careful with those sweet words baby girl” he whispered back feeling her breath hitch slightly under his fingers.

"You know..... You are the only one who has ever touched my neck and survived." she whispered, looking down at him, cheeks dusted by a furious blush from their position.

His brow raised and the signature smirk came back to his face “there is still time darling” he silently laughed appreciating her wild side. Swiftly and expertly Andrei rolled her again, pinning her beneath the beast of a man. Moving close to her face, cigarette stained breath ghosting over her Andrei kissed her again leaving her breathless once one as he pulled away “Well thank you for letting me live… for now” he smirked and got up from bed going downstairs.

Grabbing the 2 mugs of hot tea Andrei surveyed the cabin one last time for potential threats, an instinct he could never lose. Making it into the bedroom Xaviera had her head buried in the pillow which made him confused, the soft side of him tugging to know what was wrong and the wolf breathing down his neck to strike while she was vulnerable.

“Everything alright?” Andrei asked putting her mug down and getting into bed with his own mug, running his hand down her shoulder.

"Yes... E-Everything is alright... Just... Thinking." she replied, avoiding his gaze at the end and nibbling on her lower lip, a blaze of blush creeping up her features.

Andrei saw that blush again, a sight he could get used to seeing. Then that lower lip bit, ugh, she was breaking him. But he just nodded and sipped his tea watching the snow fall out the windows, his soul still wanting to run free but his heart was being caged by the beautiful woman in bed with him. Another fight to be had within him.

“Thinking… about me?” Smirked turning towards her “Don’t be sly… I’m beginning to know that beautiful blush well baby girl.” he teased with the prey as she choked on the words he spoke. He was under her skin and he reeled in it.  

"I-Its not like that! I mean... You were amazing and I loved every second of it... Its just.... I never shared...a moment like this." she spoke, looking down at the cup of tea in her lap.

He smiled at her innocent nature. “I’m just teasing myshka, it was a joke…” he hooked two large fingers under her chin making her look up at him. “But I was right.” He huffed only for her to glare at him, the blush still present.

“Still a knucklehead.... Don't make me throw your ass in the snow." she told him, taking a sip of her tea to hide her smile. Setting his tea down on the nightstand, the fingers under Xaviera’s chin moved along her jaw sweetly.

“And still a fierce kitten” Andrei’s fingers laced within her white hair and kissed her again. Xaviera closed her eyes as he kissed her, her tongue running along his bottom lip only to shyly start sucking on it, her eyes opened, looking into his own, challenging him slightly.

Andrei’s eyes went sharp again, “well you learn fast.” He grinned licking his canines, the hand within her hair tightened in a fist, he wasn’t gonna be that easy with her anymore. Crashing his lips against hers again roughly his tongue explored her mouth and fought with her tongue, savoring the taste. Without even looking Andrei’s one hand moved down her arm, taking the tea and reaching over her to put it on her nightstand which in turn was pinning her beneath him again. Biting her lip hard enough to draw a little blood he pulled back, knowing what the copper taste would do to him, he moved the kisses along her jaw and to Xaviera’s so sensitive neck.

"T-That's not fair... Y-You know my sensitive spots... A-And I don't know yours." the prey breathed out in a shuttering voice.

He grins against her, brushes the sharp teeth of the wolf along the delicate bruised skin he created. “A predator never just tells you their weak spot..” he pulled away looking her deep into her glimmering eyes “you of all people should know that, darling”

"I-I...." the prey stammered, blushing hot at his words.

Andrei stopped at her stammering words, she was embarrassed and shy beneath the wolf. He moved a large hand to stroke through her white locks and he rested his forehead on hers like animals show affection. “Ssshh.. little mouse… I will not hurt you.” The wolf couldn’t promise that, he knew that, but he never wanted to. She was different, she was an animal just like him.

“I-It’s alright… You know… When I was in Africa I watched as Leopards mate. The males always bite the nape of the females. Not to kill her, but to assert dominance. I suppose that goes for humans too?” she told him in a quiet voice, biting on her lower lip.

His gentle grin appeared again, she understood him even with all his teeth, he hummed at her words “You are mine.” Andrei placed his hand on the side of her neck and deeply kissed her, grinding himself against her, but quickly rolled off and pulled her close to him again. A ever fought battle of animalistic urges and a gentle side.

Xaviera nuzzled her face into his chest, and humming. "All yours, Wolfy. All yours.... Considering half my neck is blue and purple." she said with a smile.

Andrei huffed a small laugh, it was an instinct for him, a carnal desire to go for the neck and it always had been. Her words lit him up, someone accepted it for once that they were his, even if it was just until the snow stopped. Looking down at her Xaviera was beaming with pride.

“What a cute little thing” He kissed her forehead and started to absent mindedly run one of his hands along the giant scar on his chest. Her eyes drifted to the scar his sister gave him but she never pressured him and that he was grateful for.

"Little with enough venom to kill 100 Men." she said with a devilish glint in her eyes, her lips pressed against his big scar.

He smiled at the power she had in those words, she could kill poachers with her gun and arrows but she could also kill a man’s heart, even if it was locked away deep inside. Andrei’s jaw tensed in the gentle affectionate nature she presented him with, no one had kissed his scars in fear of what he might do them, but she didn’t have fear of him. He just looked down at her beautiful blue eyes through her thick lashes.

“It is time for sleep myshka” he leaned down brushing his lips against hers “.. unless you want to go again?” He grinned licking his canines.

“As much as I would love to get frisky with the big bad wolf…. I have to rest. The blizzard will stop tomorrow morning and I will have to go…hunting.” She whispered, her hand brushing against his chest up and down.

Xaviera spoke sweetly but truthfully and Andrei pulled away resting his head on the pillow, his mind finally felt at ease here in the tangled sheets but the way she was rubbing his chest was starting a fire he might not be able to control again, so the wolf roughly grabbed her wrist and spoke “you might want to stop doing that then.. or else I’m not taking your excuses.” He let go of her, controlling himself again and running a large hand down her grizzly scars and settling there.

"Got it, knucklehead." she huffed, rolling her eyes. Respecting his inner demons and roughness. She pressed a kiss under his chin. “Good night, Wolfy.” she whispered, leaning her head against his chest.

Grinning at the new nickname he closed his eyes, this was one night the trauma and memories wouldn’t come, he was safe in his own head tonight and he could finally relax. Tension ebbed from his muscles and jaw feeling himself melt into the bed and into the body next to him. “Goodnight kitten”

Even if it was just for the night, he felt at home, a relaxation he had never known.

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

The winter morning sun cascaded through the old glass of the cottage, his icy blues eyes opened softly and his hand stretched out, only feeling coldness surrounding him. Andrei was alone. Then there was a the closing of the door to confirm his suspicion. Her free spirit eluded him again.

“Motherfucker-” He cursed rushing downstairs and looking out the window, she was loaded up and ready to kill. A surge of protection came over him, and unfamiliar feeling in his heart he just couldn’t place other than he needed her. She didn’t know what else these poachers were involved in like he did, one of them was in the Ukrainian special forces, one similar to Andrei but lower class.

Getting dressed in his winter camo, throwing on his military vest loaded with ammo, knives, first aid and basically anything useful to get himself out of a jam. Placing his rifle over his shoulder and lacing up his combat boots, he finally placed on his mask with a deep growl. The one last thing that made him the beast.  

Stepping out into the cold winter he followed Xaviera’s tracks, leading up the mountain and twining through the forest. The wolf stalked for about two hours and that’s when he heard it a large truck approaching through the clearing just beyond the forest. He was close.

Running through the trees silently he waited, waited for her calling, the sniper rifle shots. Crouching low within the frost covered brush something he didn’t expected happened, the tires of the large truck exploded from a spike strip hidden in the snow. The little leopard knew some tricks, the wolf grinned from behind the mask.  

The first man stepped out of the truck and there was a sudden crack. The sniper rifle. “Xaviera” His trained ears perked as he listened to the sound and the vibrations, she was up on the ridge, hidden almost perfectly among the terrain, white hair flowing perfectly into the snow.

His icy blue eyes fell on the man who was bleeding lifelessly in the snow, the hot crimson melting the ice around him. The wolf’s eyes dilated and he growled with the second crack on the gun. His skin was crawling eagerly, his muscles stiffened and his mouth watered. Andrei tried to shake it off but the desire burned too hot.

Andrei... Breathe... If you go out there you will get her killed... Breathe... Wait..

So the wolf waited and watched from the trees, blue eyes sharp on the woman coming down the ridge closing in on the truck. He breathed. He contemplated showing himself, but her job wasn’t done yet and he could ruin it all. Xaviera broke the lock of the truck and opened the heavy doors with a large metal squeak falling into the forest.

There was her prize, a beautiful large snow leopard leaped out of the truck majestically, shaking its fur and running off just to the right of the wolf, they shared a quick glance at each other. It was a look of respect. Two different predators, one now free while the other was protecting, heart still chained to the woman by the truck.

Suddenly the wolf felt the hair on his neck stand and instinctively his muscles tensed, whipping his head to watch Xaviera. Something wasn’t right. A man appeared behind her. The wolfs eyes were dark, and sharp as the man grabbed her. His prey was slammed against the truck forcefully and she screamed in pain, that was a sound only the wolf wanted to make her make. No one else. She was his.

The wolf stood tall, imposing and threatening. Stalking through the bushes he heard the man talking to her but it was muffled by the blood rushing and the heart that pounded strongly within the wolf. A harsh breath left her sweet mouth as the man kicked her in the ribs. His jaw tensed, muscles flexed and contorted. Each footstep his anger grew and the snow seemed to melt under his fiery path.

This was the man from the special unit force Andrei knew well. Another shriek of pain cut through his ears as the man harshly pressed a boot on her ankle. His prey with downed and the wolf was going to take what was his. The sight of blood in the snow and dripping down his prey fueled the fire beneath the skin. He couldn't hold back the wolf any longer from its true power. It was over. Andrei was gone.

"... I know what you might be useful for" The man was on top of her now, speaking confidently, the prey cried as his disgusting hands ran along her thighs. Along his prey. She reared her head back looking to scream but there was no need, the wolf knew what to do. She was his.

The wolf lunged. Full power of broad shoulders and hard muscles. Teeth bared and claws out he tackled him off her. The man got to his feet but the wolf had power and speed, thrusting a hard fist right into his nose with a crack. The blood poured but it wasn't enough. He stepped onto his territory. Pulling the knife from his holster as the man stumbled back, the wolf stabbed into the flesh with a squelch, and twisted knife sadistically in the thigh wanting to hear the scream of pain. His desire still burned as the man dropped into the snow and the Russian pulled out the blade. He admired the oozing and flowing of the blood.

He wasn't done. He needed want was his. Towering above the man he kneeled on him, pressing his knee onto the delicate ribcage that seemed to crack with ease. The noise made goosebumps form along his skin as his large rough hands pressed around the man's throat. Squeezing and waiting.

Wait.... Wait for it.... Be grateful for the hunt... Wait for the end... It will come... It always does...

The man beneath him thrashed and writhed. Gasping and clawing. Managing to push the wolfs mask down only to have him mimic the teeth pattern. A full snarl infusing fear into the man's heart. The wolf could see it in his eyes. The precious tender fear, he was a master of. He was close. So close to the end as the prey stopped his attempt at life and accepted his death in between the jaws of the wolf. The last look was ecstasy. A sweet and yet bitter taste on his tongue as the soul departed beneath the wolf. He was gone. He took what was his in the snow.

As the pluse under his claws went flat, the attention was put on his other prey. His different type of prey. Dark eyes met her wide icy blues. Andrei was screaming not to dare to touch her but the wolf wanted more. Needed more. The prey swallowed down roughly, breathing slowly as the wolf was hunched and teeth were displayed. She didn't move. A smart one. He wanted to devour her fear but he pulled away and placed his attention back the corpse beneath him.

He wasn't done.

He came into his world and touched what was his. Spilled the blood that was his. He wanted more.

Standing, the wolf towered, large and strong he dragged the body away. Taking his kill how and where he wanted, and stalked into the snowy forest. His rage carrying the wolf where it pleased.

Seeing a strong, sharp broken branch on a pine tree, it seemed to suit the wolfs fancy. Lifting the man with ease and impaling him on the branch in a show of pure raw strength. In an animalistic urge he needed to see everything, hear everything and smell everything. The wolf stripped the prey as he hung. Checking for weapons and ammo that would please him.

The hot blood still oozing from his thigh, the desire ached for more. The wolf grabbed his blade again from his vest and in a swift motion he stabbed the prey in his chest, right in the middle and pulled down strongly to his navel. The hot crimson spraying on the wolf, he tasted it, savoring it sickly as he took the knife out. Intestines fell and melted the snow at his feet. The white ice turned a deep scarlet as the night fell. The metallic smell assaulted the wolfs senses, feeding every desire perfectly. He was grateful for this hunt tonight. He could do as he pleased.

With 2 hands the wolf tore the preys torso open, the sound of squelching entrails and flesh ripped through the forest, signaling the ravens to move in around him. With a thick hand the wolf reached inside the lifeless body, reaching the spine slowly and twisting, ripping it out as the body swayed. The wolf had taken what he wanted. He took rapaciously what he thought desvered with out mercy. Protecting what was his.

Breathe... Be grateful for this hunt.... you took what you wanted.... Breathe... The world made you this way... Breathe..

A sick snarl left his lips graciously as he looked at what he did. Turning to walk away the wolf nipped at his neck one last time and he turned, whipping his knife out and brutally decapitated the prey. The body mangled and wicked left in the snow for the scavengers to eat. He had taken what was his.

The blood was thick on his coat as he marched along the snow path, marching to the cottage, a siren song calling him back, her name in his head over and over again. The wolfs eyes sharp and dangerous as he set his sets on the cottage, warm light looming in the dark cold forest. The blood steamed and billowed around him. The wolf had a hunger. Only one could fill. The trail of scarlet dripped from his canines and claws, melting in the footsteps behind him.

The wolfs weight creaked along the front steps and he slammed the door open. There she was. He's final feast for the night.

"Andrei?" The prey asked, looking like a deer caught in the headlights, she stood there as he licked the blood from his canines.

She was wearing nothing but his shirt. His smell imprinting on that beautiful flesh. The wolf growled deep and low, seeing her bruises. They weren't his bruises, not his marks. He needed her. To make her his again. A carnal desire burned in his core. This would be a different hunt. A different end.

[hentaimommi]

ʀᴏᴏᴍᴍᴀᴛᴇꜱ | ꜱᴜɴᴀ ʀɪɴᴛᴀʀᴏᴜ [x fem! reader]

Warnings: NSFW, all characters 18+, drug abuse

(A/N) I've never written on tumblr-- I've only ever written on wattpad (@/hentaimommi), let's hope this goes well! sorry for any mistakes/misunderstandings, I'm trying to improve my writing and take it seriously.

[R O O M A T E S]

It all began on a Friday night. Rintarou had gone out with his regular crowd, pot heads and easy chicks, and I was stuck at home. No one here to buy me a drink or hold my hand. I didn't mind though, I wasn't envious. He had his life, I had mine.

That was, until he got home. Usually in the midst of his cross-faded fits, he'd somehow sneak into my room. The first time it happened I was taken off guard, he never had shown an interest in me. No once could I recall any moment where he even asked how my day was. Yet, when he came home on Friday nights, that was all I could hear.

Tonight was no different, of course. I sat on the sofa, up late watching whatever k-drama Netflix had to offer that would stimulate my romantic ability. I'd never been romantically perused; men seemed to tiptoe around me, too intimidated by whatever quality seems to be so offputting to them. Anyone but Rin.

I could hear when he arrived home. The lock was being messily fiddled with, his drunken state rendered his ability to think cognitively or with any real consideration. Soon the door would finally open, swinging all the way to the wall.

A large waft of alcohol and weed forced it's way into my nasal cavity; reminding me of the man himself. Looking over to him, he stood facing backwards to the door, which puzzled me for a moment. Then, as if to answer my question by some hand at fate, another woman walked in behind him.

She was skinny, slender if you will. Tall, too. Her hair was long, skin coated in a thick layer of body glitter for whatever low-life party they were coming from. I wanted to pretend like this wouldn't phase me, but in the depths of my heart, it pulled. It hurt badly, so bad my face noticeably dropped.

""What's 'sur problem?" He asks, sloppily throwing his arm over the womans shoulder. She was so out of it her responses were only incoherent grunts. Classy. I rolled my eyes, standing up and gathering the things I had settled on the sofa.

It didn't hurt so much that, in a drunken state, he picked up some random woman. It hurt because then I realized how much I actually wanted it to happen. I had shaved, done my hair, and even put on a cute set of lingerie that had been collecting dust in my drawer since my first year at University.

The low glow of his bedroom light flickered on, causing both parties to squint. He then shut the door, no- slammed it. I sighed, letting a wonton groan escape before I secluded into my room for the night; sure to wear headphones.

By the time morning light seemed through the edge of my black out curtains, the woman was gone. The only sounds emitting from his room were low-groan like growls in his sleep. I stood, warm feet padding on the cold wooden floors in a hushed tone.

To the kitchen I went, turning on some light lo-fi on the Alexa that sat next to the stove, and beginning to cook a small breakfast. Eggs, bacon, and biscuits. Nothing too crazy, afterall, we're in Uni.

Apparently the smell awoke the sleeping bear, seeing how he groggily stumbled from his room. I didn't know how to feel. Usually he saved sex for me, which always made me feel like we had something exclusive. I was in for one rude awaking, now feeling nearly embarrassed at my ignorance.

"Mornin' beautiful. Whatcha makin'?" He asked, opening the refrigerator and grabbing a water. "Eggs, bacon, and biscuits. The pain medication is in the cabinet to the left, for your hangover." He smiled, nodding and grabbing the bottle from the cabinet.

I reached up into the one above my head, grabbing two plates and organizing a hearty breakfast for the both of us; especially him. He thanked me silently, taking the plate from my hands and making his way to the sofa. He turned the TV on, getting lost in whatever was playing at this hour.

I sighed, opting to eat at the counter instead of with him like we usually do on Saturday mornings. "Oh, I'm goin' out with Kita tonight, would you wanna come? Unless yer' totally wrecked from last night." He broke the silence, making me look up. Last night?

"What do you mean 'wrecked from last night'?" I asked, sipping on the OJ I had in a pink cup set aside from before I started cooking. Rin turned around, almost to question my sanity. "Don't you remember? I totally wrecked you last night, pretty thing." His words were quite literally laced with certainty, nearly making me laugh.

"Uh- no, you didn't. You did however completely destroy some bar hopper, though. At least that's the sound of it." I began to chuckle, opening my phone. Kita's Snapchat was full of videos of last night, so I turned to show him one of him and the woman he had brought home grinding on the dance floor.

"Oh shit. 'm sorry (F/N), I really thought it was you-! I swear I didn't-" He sat the plate down, only to be held up by a wavering sway of my index finger. "We're not exclusive, don't worry Rin."

He, however, didn't seem to 'not worry', as I had asked him not to. "No, no-" He started, walking over to me. He took my plate into his own, sitting them in the sink. Once done, he turned to me. "You don't get it, darlin'. I told that woman somthin' that was meant for you."

I arched a brow to his disposition, leading him to groan and roll his eyes. "I told 'er that I loved 'er!" He spouted, visibly frustrated and embarrassed. My eyes shot open, darting to find his own, but to my disappointment he had been glued to the floor.

"L-Love? Like- love love, or-" He stopped me, putting his large, calloused hand over my mouth. Once clasped, he spoke. "Love love. Don't feel special or nothin'. It's embarrassin'." I smiled, pulling his hand softy away from my face. The silence spoke waves as he stared down at me. Then, as it happens, I kissed him. He kissed back with a passion, or rather fury. His right hand snaked around my back, left finding its way to my neck, comfortably.

"R-Rin," Breathlessly I spoke agaisnt the skin of his cheek, his kisses finding a path to my neck. He chuckled darkly in amusement, gripping his large hands around the base of my thighs, then my ass. Quickly, by some form of magic, he picked me up and held my around his waist; like I was paper.

His kisses desperately continued lower, legs taking us back into his room as if it were some sort of automatic response to my hands running in his hair, tugging on the locks. Groans could be heard wide from both of us.

Sitting me down on the bed, he lowered himself onto his knees, looking up at me devilishly. Almost ominous, you could say. "R-Rin what are you doing?" I asked, panting from the loss of breath. He smiled, pushing the palms of his hands around the balls of my knees, wedging my thighs perfectly apart.

"Givin' you what you deserve." He spoke, hot and sloppy kisses making their way down my thigh and onto the lewdly clothed part of my cunt. Without hesitation, Rin reached under me, pulling at the waistline of my pants. Scooting just enough for them to release and relapse off my legs and into the floor.

"'s good for me. Aren't ya, darlin'?" His words dragged, sleepy, groggy. I nodded, releasing a pent up breath when he gently thumbed my swollen clit. "Yer so fuckin' gorgeous, god, I'm such an idiot." He spoke against my clit, tongue now delved into my slick folds.

My hips arched forward, begging for more. He reluctantly denied, teasing me of my furthered pleasure. He then backed away, pushing his boxers away from his hips and into the floor with my panties.

His cock was pulsing; leaking precum, a perfect pink. It begged to be touched, I could see it's long length twitch. "Take a picture, it'll last longer." I rolled my eyes, looking to the ceiling. "Sorry, you're just so hard." Honestly, he always had been- but this time looked desperate, like he was ready before he even sat me onto the bed.

"'cus you get me so hard, baby. Don't you know? Shoulda figured it wasn't you last night, my cock wasn't nearly as sensitive." His hands ran into my hair, cock lining up with my wet entrance.

I moaned as he put it in, filling me up full of his thick cock. I knew he should have put on a condom, but fuck it, I needed him now. His heavy breathe rolled across my chest like a blunt on a trey, hands cascading my body like a clay mold.

"'s pretty for me.." His praises worked harder on me, cock pushing in and out at a perfect pace. Our moans fell together, his pelvis softly rubbing against my clit with each thrust; stimulating it further. His mouth found way to my own, engulfing me into a shameless-sloppy kiss. "I love you.."

My face began to heat up, lower body matching in a needy state. "I-I love you too, Rin." As the words carelessly fell from my lips, I could feel myself begin to convulse. Shaking, my hips turned up, meeting my peak with Rin right after; cumming deep inside me, filling me full as he always did.

His hand rested on my stomach as he pulled out, leaving me empty. His thin lips met my forehead, giving me a small kiss before lying beside of me. Wordlessly, we cuddled against each other, naked- without care.

His hands were on my body politely, never tracing a single inappropriate spot. "'m sorry, love. I didn't mean to." He spoke into my hair, big spoon feeling much smaller now. I chuckled, holding his hand fondly into mine. "Don't worry 'bout it. Just get ready for Kita and I to rank on you about it."

[myhauntedsalem]

30 Doctors, Nurses and Paramedics Describe their Most Disturbing Medical Stories

1. The Guessing Game

“I work as an ICU nurse. A mid-20s female came in with some serious cardiac abnormalities and then went into respiratory distress. Never had any medical history at all. We had to put her on the ventilator, but she was on just enough sedation to keep her lucid. She could nod/shake her head yes and no appropriately to questions.

One night, the patient in the room next to hers died, but the body was still in the room about to be taken to the morgue. The female patient’s door was closed with curtains drawn, so she couldn’t have seen what was going on next door. When I went in to check on her, she had a look of sheer panic on her face, trembling. I asked her a series of questions to see if she was cold/hot/in pain/etc. and she denied all. I asked her if she saw something—she started to aggressively nod her head YES. She wasn’t on any drugs that would make her hallucinate. I went on to get details on what this thing looked like. After playing 20 questions I got this: a man, pale white, left arm missing, heavy, bald, standing still, behind me. This was the man who had just died next door.

I spent the rest of the night consoling her.” – whites42

2. Life After Death

“When I was on an ER rotation during med school we got a call about a 23-year-old woman who was shot in the head, and who was already completely gone, but was reportedly five months pregnant so they were doing CPR until they got her to the hospital to see if the baby was viable. They got her to the ER and did an ultrasound and turned out the baby was full-term so they did a C-section in like under a minute and got the baby out.

I don’t think it’s so incredibly uncommon but it was pretty surreal to see a baby delivered from a dead person with their brain exposed and she was pretty close to the same age I was at the time.” – bluegraypurple

3. The Last Goodbye

“When I was a student, I got called in on a stroke patient. She had coded and they were doing CPR. They worked for 45 minutes, but she died. They cleaned her up, and called on the family to say goodbye, but by that time the family left. She had been both brain dead and without a pulse for more than 45 minutes. Blood had filled her brain, and she was completely grey and started to smell. Suddenly, she sat up, and called for her family. The nurses rushed to get monitors and equipment back on her. They started working on her again, she stabilized, said goodbye to her family, and promptly died a second time.” – simplesimon6262

4. Miracle Man

“When I was in trauma surgery in upstate by, got a notification about a man who was shot 3 times in the head. He comes in, literally one eye hanging out of the socket, blood everywhere, and he’s slumped forward. Apparently, he was shot in the temple, exited out his right eye socket, in the nose exited from the roof of the mouth, and In the cheek one with exit from the side of the head.

At this point, I’m thinking they just brought him in so we can pronounce him in the ER because he looked dead. I go to examine him and tilt his head back, and he says ‘Yoooo be gentle!’ I jump back and scream like a little boy, as did everyone in the room. Literally, the bullets missed his brain in every single shot.” – Noimnotonacid

5. Bleeding

“One of the aides I work with said she was doing postmortem care on a patient who had been on many, many anticoagulants before death. She said when they turned her on her side she started bleeding out of every orifice—eyes, nose, mouth, and ears. She said her and the nurse went home and had nightmares for a week.” – sparklingbluelight

6. The Haunted Hospital

“My town has two really old hospitals. One no longer functions overnight, and the stories are unsettling. No one cleans the old ER alone because all the lights and call bells go off. On other floors, there’s a kid with his ball, a lady in a white dress, etc. A coworker was cleaning an entire floor utterly solo (the norm) and bounced between rooms because the cleaning solution stays wet for a few minutes. Upon returning to a freshly wiped bed, hand prints were clearly visible.” – Sapphire_Starr

7. Eyeless

“I used to do home care for an elderly lady with learning disabilities and no eyes (they were removed due to a congenital condition). She was lovely but prone to wandering around her flat at night in total silence, which led to several horrifying situations where I left my room at 2 am only to encounter her standing silently in the hallway, turning her eyeless face towards me.” – NovelistResearcher

8. Lonely

“One call that will always haunt me was on an unresponsive female at around three in the morning. We get there and do some pointless CPR along with the fire department… She had been dead for a while; no shock-able rhythm, and clear rigor mortis. The most disturbing part was that the original caller was her 11-year-old daughter, who had just spent three days with her mother’s corpse and called 9-1-1 because she was ‘lonely’. It also didn’t help that the victim was completely naked when we arrived.” – CupofJoe776

9. Clear Waters

“I have quite a few stories, most of them are hilarious and then there are those you never want to think about. What fucked me up the most was when I saw how eyes change at the moment of death. Imagine you are looking at clear water but that clear water changes to foggy in an instant. In my 8 years here I’ve only seen this once, and I’ve personally seen well over 250 dead or dying people.” – ImCuden

10. Night Lights

“I work nights in a long-term care facility as a nurse’s assistant. I have two men under my care and both of them are unable to use their call lights. They have severe dementia and debilitating Parkinson’s disease but still, their lights are looped around their bed rail. One night their light came on and I went to answer it already confused and creeped out. I turned it off and left the room. Before I could get two doors up the light came back on. I went in there and both lights were unplugged from the wall and thrown under their beds. I fished them out, plugged them back in and left.

I’ve seen shadows standing over the dying and felt a tap on my shoulder while doing chest compression’s so I knew that lady had passed.” – beeoakly

11. Holding Hands

“I’ve had a couple of weird calls. One was a major MVA-head on many, many years ago when we played M.E. as well. We had 2 DOA (husband and spouse) that were killed instantly in a head-on collision. They had a 12-year-old daughter that was in between them and they actually took the impact, saving her life.

While en route, we noticed the husband’s arm had come loose so I went back to re-strap it. As I was doing that, the wife’s arm suddenly fell out as well, and her hand fell into her husband’s. My boss was watching in the rearview mirror and helped clear the way as I ran back into the front. It spooked both of us. Apparently, the couple (mid 30’s), had just found out he was cancer free after his last treatment.” – Anonymous

12. Last Meal

“I had an old lady come in by ambulance, near death. She was a DNR (do-not-resuscitate), so we weren’t going to do much for her. She didn’t have any family that we could find. The hospital was full, so we had to keep her in the ER for the night.

Again, she was near death. When you’ve seen enough people die, there’s no mistaking it, and she was almost there. Barely responsive; pale, cool, breaths were really irregular, heart rate was up and down, too. We just turned the lights down and kept an eye on her monitor, basically waiting for her to die.

About an hour later, she’s standing at the door of her room. She’d gotten up and put on all her clothes. We were all like, ‘WTF?’ One of the nurses went to check on her, and she said she was hungry. Not knowing really what to make of things, we got her a chair, a bedside table, and went to the cafeteria and got her a tray of food.

She sat there, ate all her food, talked with the staff a little. After about an hour, she told her nurse that she was tired and wanted to lie back down. We helped her back into bed, and within 30 minutes she was dead.” – Anonymous

13. “Don’t Let me go Back there”

“When my mom worked as an E.R. nurse a guy came in from a car accident and was losing blood. In the midst of resuscitation, the man jolts awake and screams ‘Don’t let me go back there! Please, please, please don’t let me go back!’ A few seconds later they lost him.” – JeremyHowell

14. The Rusty Old Saw

“This woman was clearly struggling mentally. She went into her basement and started sawing at her wrists horizontally with a rusty hacksaw, bleeds a good amount, and then starts walking around the house. She wasn’t dying quick enough, so she sat down in a chair in the middle of the living room, and started going at her wrists again, this time with a pair of scissors.

I was the second person inside the house. It looked like a massacre. We searched the house top to bottom, fully expecting to find multiple dead bodies in there. I’ve never seen so much blood in my life. Every single room had a trail of blood in it.

The woman was found on a chair in the living room. Rigor mortis had contorted her body into a really strange, unnatural pose, and her face was haunting. Literally the stuff of nightmares. Her wrists had huge chunks of skin/veins/muscle missing from them. Saying she slit her wrists is inaccurate. She ripped them to pieces.” – anoncop1

15. Visitors

“I work a stroke/telemetry floor on the bought shift. Most of our patients are elderly. Apparently, there are two things that patients see before they pass away. Some will say that two men are walking in their rooms and telling them to get ready to leave. The patient will call and tell us that these men are big and abrasive in their demeanor. They are either terrified or annoyed when they see the two men. The other thing they will see is a little boy who will go into their rooms and try to wake them up. The boy is usually loud and runs around their rooms. The patients will call and ask who’s letting children just run around late night. Several nights or even that same shift we’re coding or cleaning the patient for the funeral home to pick up.” – pokfynder

16. The Handsome Man in Black

“I used to work in a skilled nursing facility, usually assigned to the Alzheimer’s ward. One night I’m in the linen room stocking my cart, and I heard someone shuffle up behind me, then I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned around and there was no one else in the room. The door was still shut too.

Another lady started to complain that a man was coming into her room at night (again, Alzheimer’s so I didn’t think much of it) so to reassure her, I told her I’d check on her throughout the night. She complained of this man for every night for two more weeks when I asked her to describe him to me.

‘He’s real handsome, and wears a black suit. Oh. He’s right behind you now, honey.’

That freaked me the f*ck out. Of course, there was no one behind me. She died the next night in her sleep.” – Anonymous

17. The Blender

“We got a call for a male in his early 30s with ‘heavy groin trauma’ (exact words of the dispatcher). We roll up lights and sirens and the guy is waiting for us on the front step with a towel over his crotch. We barely come to a stop and the guy is already running towards the rig holding this towel. I asked him what was wrong and he moved the towel and this guy’s dick was just barely hanging on. Apparently, he had ‘lady problems’ so he decided to fornicate with the food mixer he had in his kitchen and accidentally turned it on.” – YayShinny

18. The Charred Skin

“Motorcycle driver, accident, third-degree burns, arrived DOA. Had to transfer him from ambulance gurney to ER bed. As we were moving him with a transfer sheet, the liquefied/cooked subcutaneous fat caused the charred skin on his back to separate and his body slipped onto the floor (despite several of us trying to ‘catch’ him).” – Doc-in-a-box

19. Dead Man Moaning

“Worked security through college at a local hospital. The only ‘creepy’ thing I remember is when a dead man moaned. One of my duties was to help wheel patients who had expired down to the in-house morgue. Once we were wheeling an older man from the ER down and halfway down the hallway he let out this low moan. I started to panic, thinking that he was coming back to life but the RN explained to me (newbie) that sometimes the air in the lungs doesn’t come out until sometime later or is delayed for a bit.” – ill_do_it-later

20. Otherworldly Screams

“I have had fellow coworkers swear that strange things have occurred in the ER. Two people that I work with were charting at the nurse’s station when they both heard a scream followed by incoherent words come from one of our open bays. There were three patients in the room and they denied screaming or hearing anything. I have also had fellow coworkers talk about hearing strange voices especially after really bad codes and one person states she felt someone grabbing her shoulder after the doc pronounced a trauma code. These are all respectable people and I do not think they would lie.” – Anonymous

21. Blank Stare

“We got a call to go out to a scene for an elderly woman with chest pains. I arrive at the house, front door is open. We knock, hear the old woman calling out from the back ‘I’m in the back room’ in a very monotone and calm voice. My partner and I go to the back of the house looking for this woman, and that’s when we smelled it. Nothing prepares you for the smell of rotting corpse. I’ve smelled it a dozen times, and it never gets any less disturbing. We radio for police and ALS backup as we move through the house.

We opened the door to the master bedroom, and there is our patient. She is approximately 80, and she is staring at the master bathroom with these cold, dead eyes. She never once looked at us as we approached her and began talking to her. I got to the bedside and got in front of her gaze, and she just looked right through me. I turned around to see what she could possibly be looking at, and there was the source of my smell.

A man, about the same age as my patient, is on the floor with very little left of his head still attached to his body. A shotgun lay on the floor next to him, and most of his head was strewn about the walls and bathroom counter. We loaded the woman up in the ambulance, and our police backup pulled up.

I don’t think that woman blinked once the entire time she was in our care.” – TheFilthiest

22. “Bill’s Here”

“I’m an RN and while I was a student I was caring for a lady who had an end-stage renal failure, had a DNAR (do not attempt resuscitation) and was shutting down. We were having a little chat when she stopped, looked over my shoulder and said ‘Bill’s here love, I’ve got to go,’ and swiftly stopped breathing. Read her old notes and Bill was her deceased husband.” – Jesspandapants

23. The Body on the Floor

“The call was for an older woman, lying in bed. When we get there, the smell is horrendous of a dead body. There are millions of flies everywhere and a little old lady in lying in the bed, alive. About five feet away, there is a body covered up by a sheet. The lady was a dementia patient, and her husband (the deceased) was the primary caregiver. Based on the number of flies and state of decomposition, the police estimated the guy had been dead for about three weeks. The woman must have been getting some food out of the refrigerator, but it was totally empty by the time we arrived.

The creepiest part happened on the way to the hospital with the woman, she said, ‘I hope that nice man on the floor is OK’.” – Tools4toys

24. The Fallen Cross

“I responded to a call where a janitor was dusting quite a large stone cross in the middle of a church. He had been up on a ladder cleaning, when he slipped off, and proceeded to try to hold onto the cross to keep from falling. Unfortunately, the weight of the 200-pound man was too much to support. The cross fell towards him, landing on his left arm, with a part of the horizontal stone of the cross, pushing his muscles and tendons out of his wrist like a squeezed toothpaste tube. Then the cross fell completely on him splattering his brain across the floor. Quite disturbing, and definitely the most horrific and gore filled call I had ever witnessed.” – UpboatOarKnotUpboat

25. The Headless Nurse

“I used to work in St Barts Hospital in London, which in parts is over 1,000 years old. One of the buildings had 2 floors (with massively high ceilings), and so the floors were taken out and rearranged to make into 5 floors. The nurses working night shift would often tell us of the ghost of a night nurse who wandered silently doing her ’rounds’ at night—but due to the new floors, only her head would be visible drifting down the ward.” – jenthejedi

26. Monsters

“I was still a nursing student at the time, but this was from when I had my psychiatric clinical placement in my 3rd year.

I was assigned to a young male patient with schizophrenia. He had been a voluntary admission because he heard voices telling him to hurt people around him, and he admitted himself because he was afraid of actually going through with it.

Anyway, I went into the room alone, as usual, and did the usual introduction and asking how he was doing. He was at a desk drawing creepy, hideous monsters—each monster had its own page, and there had to be at least half a dozen of these pages scattered around him. I asked him what they were. He answered that those were the monsters he saw. They were the monsters that whispered to him and told him to hurt people and do awful things. Guarded, I asked him, ‘Are they telling you to hurt me?’

He answered, ‘Yes.’

I didn’t stay very long in that room.” – duckface08

27. The Man in Black

“People turn batshit crazy and creepy as hell when they get really sick. There’s even a term called ICU psychosis…and trust me, it’s real. Anyway, the creepiest that takes the cake for me is this (am an ICU nurse, btw): Had a patient who was admitted for overdose. Very long history of mental health problems. She was thrashing around in bed, very combative, kicking people’s asses for days, totally incoherent.

Well, the night I had her, she started making decent sense, but still not oriented at all. She was extremely paranoid and kept talking about the man in black in the corner. I’d hear her talking to him and screaming, all night long. So I’d go in there and try to calm her down, but you could see the fear in her eyes. she was talking other nonsense about how she was in space and shit, and with certain patients, you try to redirect their ‘reality,’ but what I did didn’t help. She said ‘that man in black! Don’t you see him!’ and pointed to the corner. I said ‘there’s nobody here.’ I stepped in the corner she was pointing to and waved my hands around. While I’m waving my hands around in the air, she had the most horrifically terrified look on her face that actually scared the shit out of me, like I had just assaulted the man in black. I said ‘see, there’s nobody here’ and she said in a matter-of-factly that’s what you think.’ I promptly got the fu*k out of there.” – HeatherTakasaki

28. Eyes Wide Open

“I work in palliative. Most deaths I’ve seen have been more or less peaceful, though the ones that are not, stick with you. One guy was silently screaming through his last few hours of life. Another guy (who up until this point had been unresponsive) reached up and grabbed me when we attempted to lower his bed to turn him.

One time while doing post-mortem care I walked into the room and thought ‘that’s weird, how come nobody has closed his eyes yet?’ He had that movie-perfect dead look, with pale blue staring eyes and slack jaw and greyish, waxy skin. I closed his eyes and started the care, and when I looked again those eyes, still staring at me, were slowly opening, one slightly slower than the other. He groaned when we turned him to wash his back and his hand managed to clamp onto the bed rail and we had to pry it off. When we finally got him onto his back again, there was a foul-smelling, oily black, viscous liquid on the pillowcase. I cleaned his mouth again thinking it must have come from there, but his mouth and nose were clean. The best I could figure the stuff had come from his eye. I couldn’t wait to get that bag zipped up.” – draakons_pryde

29. Crawling up the Hallway

“I used to work as an STNA in a nursing home. Worked third shift throughout university. During the night we turned half the lights off so it was darker for the evening and didn’t get a lot of light in the residents’ rooms. We had one resident who was younger (70s) and was mostly in for mental reasons. She had long, dark hair and was very thin.

I was sitting at the nurse’s station at the top of the hall and heard a call light go off. I stood up, looked down the dark hall, and on all fours—straight out of The Ring—this resident was crawling up the hall toward me. The other STNA had forgotten to put the bed rail up and the resident was VERY good at climbing out of bed.

Needless to say, I needed some new britches and my heart was racing a mile a minute.” – blameitonthewookie

30. Heaven

“Had a young woman in full liver failure. She was orange in color and she was still conscious. She asked me what I thought it would be like to die. I told her I didn’t know but I hoped it wouldn’t be painful. She then asked me if I thought I would go to heaven. I told her that I believed I would. She asked me if I thought she would go to heaven, and I told her I wasn’t able to answer that question.

She then told me ‘I am going to heaven and I know it,’ and I asked her how she knew that and she told me something that I will never ever forget. She told me ‘I know I am because that man over there told me so.’ I asked what man and she said the man sitting on the end of the bench. I asked her what he looked like and she said ���he looks just like the Jesus on the windows of my church.’

Well, to tell you I was pretty well affected by that statement. She then went on to say ‘And he says that you are going to go to heaven too.’

We then prayed and I will never forget that interaction between the two of us. About a week later she passed away. I hope she made it to heaven.” – Anonymous

[catboymingi]

the prettiest princess - veninder chap. 3

navi/masterlist

story masterlist

pairing: mingi x reader

genre: maybe this counts as crack also, fluff; eventual best friends to lovers

word count: 6.1k

warnings: insecurities

jeg har været der når det galdt - i was there when it counted

surprisingly enough, you’d managed to sleep through, first waking when your alarm rang the next morning. mingi woke up as well, all groggy and sleepy, and he complained about the unpleasant way of being woken up. his arm had remained wrapped around you all night it seemed, and you had to snake out from his embrace now since he didn’t seem to want to let you go.

“you’re warm”, he whined, and you laughed shortly before telling him that you had to turn the alarm off or he wouldn’t be able to return to the land of dreams. that seemed to convince him, letting go of you while continuing to grumble about how he’d ‘just reached the biggest plot twist in his dream and now he had no way of finding out what happened’.

“what time is it even?” he was obviously displeased with the entire situation right now, and you were convinced he was going to kill you when you informed him that it was 5 in the morning.

“please tell me you’re joking.” he wasn’t sure whether to believe you or not. there was no way you had an alarm set for five in the morning, absolutely not. but sadly, you were absolutely serious.

“i like getting up early”, you explained and he groaned in reply.

“there’s a difference between early and other people’s literal bedtime.”

“i can turn the other ones off so you can sleep more”, you offered in an attempt at reconciliation, but he just turned around wide-eyed as he asked you just how many alarms you had for your mornings.

“well, the first one is 5. then, if i want to sleep a little more, i wait until the 5.30 one. sometimes i don’t want to get up then either, so i have one for 6, and 6.15, and 6.30, and the next one is 8 which is my hard limit”, you told him and mingi’s expression turned into one of utter disbelief, staring at you as if you were an alien.

“don’t look at me like that!”, you said defensively, but there was a hint of laughter in your voice, and he couldn’t help but grin as well, even though he tried very hard to suppress it because you’d just woken him up at an ungodly hour and didn’t seem to have any intention of resuming to sleep either, which meant he’d have to stay up as well since he didn’t want to keep sleeping in your bed while you were doing awake things. so he groaned, again, and sat up, rubbing his eyes forcefully so he could at least pretend he wasn’t dead tired.

“you owe me”, he mumbled in his deep morning voice, and you looked up at him from where you were sitting on the floor, busy with turning off your alarms before he spoke up.

“hm?” then you realised that he was about to get up, and you shook your head vehemently (which also saved you the embarrassment of staring at his naked upper body).

“you should sleep more!”, you told him firmly, absolutely refusing to have him get up with you when he’d looked at you in shock and complete and utter distaste at the current time just a few moments ago.

“not when you’re running around all energetic”, he countered, at least as determined to get his way as you. maybe it was childish, but he didn’t want to feel like he was missing anything when he was sleeping while you were doing things he’d never know because he was too caught up in whatever weird things his subconscious would decide to make the plot of his next dream. you huffed at his response, climbing back into bed defiantly with a ‘fine’ and a pout on your face.

“now lay down.” you were in a half sitting, half laying position as you pulled at his shoulder, trying to get him back to your level. and he complied, secretly glad that you’d chosen this option rather than him having to stay up with you, because while he’d never admit it he really needed his sleep, turning into a giant version of an irritable child if he didn’t get to sleep in.

now, however, he was facing you, and you suddenly realised how close you were and also that he was shirtless, something that had not fully registered in your mind before now. you were hyperaware of his eyes on you as you tried to avoid his gaze, not realising that he misinterpreted it as you feeling bad again, which led to him carefully scooting even closer and putting an arm around you as that had managed to comfort you these past times. that didn’t actually improve your current embarrassed emotional state, but at least it provided you with an excuse for not looking him in the eyes, and you’d take that. it wasn’t like he was the first shirtless man you’d ever seen, but he was the first shirtless man that’d ever been in your bed pressing you to his chest. you weren’t complaining, it was just… unusual. you didn’t really know what to make of it, how to act, especially since you felt like there was some unwritten contract between the two of you that stated that he would only stay in your bed with you like this until you weren’t feeling bad anymore, and now you weren’t feeling bad but keeping him in his belief that you were, so you were in some way breaking the rules that had never even been agreed on out loud. even though nothing was happening at all (except for his arm around your waist) you felt like you were taking advantage of his willingness to help in some way, so you scooted away from him a bit again, making a worried expression manifest on mingi’s face.

“you don’t have to do this”, you told him, finally looking up at him to give him a reassuring smile despite the fact that you were still somewhat embarrassed by the predicaments you found yourself in. “i’m not feeling bad, so you don’t have to comfort me.”

“you want me to not do that?”, he asked, suddenly realising that this time he hadn’t waited for you to pull him closer but just wrapped his arm around you, and he was scared that he’d made you uncomfortable.

“no you can”, you were quick to elaborate as you noticed that the worry was still apparent on his face, “you just don’t have to.”

“mm”, he hummed and wrapped his arm back around you. “you’re warm.” and because you felt awkward with him hugging you and your arms all but pressed in between the two of you’s chests you decided, for the first time in these past couple days, to hold him as well. your hand ghosted over his waist for a moment, a little uncertain, before you thought that it couldn’t really get any more awkward so you might as well do it, and put your arm around him. it was mainly owed to the nervosity that was still making your heart beat a little faster than regular that you started drawing random shapes on his back with your finger, but it didn’t seem like he minded at all, if the way his hold relaxed around you was something to judge by.

you didn’t realise that he’d fallen back asleep, continuing your finger’s nervous roamings until your arm got tired, at which point you let it drop so that it was less a hug and more like a giant, soggy spaghetti hanging over his waist. you were certain that his body temperature was much higher than yours as you were pressed against him like that, convinced that your hand must feel like an ice block to him and that his comment about you being warm was either a lie or owed to the two of you having reached thermal equilibrium, because there was no way you could actually feel warm against him, who was radiating an incredible heat. it was cosy for you, so you weren’t complaining, but you were slightly worried about his comfort. that worry subsided though when the first little snore passed his lips, and now your focus was on not laughing so you wouldn’t wake him up. you thought it was kind of precious how the outwardly so intimidating giant was now snoring peacefully in your arms, and the fact that he seemed so completely relaxed made you worry a little less about him maybe thinking that you were weird for sleeping all wrapped up in him for the second time in the roughly three days you’d known each other. you had to admit that you liked this, liked being so close to him even when it wasn’t for the sole reason of you needing comfort, you liked the way he was always making sure that you weren’t uncomfortable and how weirdly relaxed you felt in his arms.

you hadn’t even noticed that you’d fallen asleep as well until your 8am alarm rang, because you were serious when you said that was your hard limit. you didn’t want to leave the comfortable warmth mingi’s body provided, but you had to at least shuffle slightly to be able to reach your phone and turn off your alarm. you could once more hear displeased sounds at being woken up leave his mouth, but he seemed a little less grumpy this time since he’d at least gotten another two hours of sleep.

“would breakfast cheer you up?”, you asked him once you’d turned your alarm off, and he grumbled something that you couldn’t understand but interpreted as a yes, so you tried to get up to provide the promised meal. you were surprised when he wouldn’t let you, though, his hold around your waist tightening just enough to keep you in place without hurting you. you realised then that he was cuddly when he’s sleepy, which again was unexpected but endearing. but it wouldn’t fill your stomachs. you tried to get up once more, but he still wouldn’t let you.

“mingi”, you laughed, “i’m just trying to get us breakfast.”

“what breakfast?” it sounded more like a statement, and his tone made you realise that if you didn’t offer something good you’d be stuck in bed until he deemed it an appropriate time to get up.

“i have toast”, you told him, but you already knew that wasn’t going to convince him.

“anything else?” his grip was still unrelenting, and you considered just accepting your fate because you were a little embarrassed about your only other option, but then again you did need to eat, at least mingi did, because you wouldn’t let him be hungry when the only reason why he was here was that he’d wanted to comfort you.

“fruit loops?” to your surprise this did seem to be an acceptable option, because he shuffled and sat up, still very obviously tired but less grumpy now. and again you tried your best to avoid staring at him, pretending to rub the sleep out of your eyes while you sat up when really you just wanted a moment to mentally prepare yourself.

“it’s the bed or the floor”, you told him apologetically - your place was much smaller than theirs, you didn’t have a table to offer and your desk was covered in all the things you’d rather not leave on the floor and risk stepping on, so that wasn’t available for eating either. you were embarrassed about this, because while your apartment wasn’t messy per se it was hard to keep order when you didn’t have enough room to put all your things away securely, and you were scared that he was going to judge you. but he didn’t seem to mind, shuffling some more until his back was against the wall and his legs were somewhat dangling off the side of the bed.

you went to get two bowls, milk and the fruit loops and returned to him, keeping a little distance as you handed him the milk because you were still feeling a little awkward and because he was still quite shirtless. he came closer soon after, though, sitting side to side with you as he curiously watched you pour fruit loops in and then eat them without waiting for the milk.

“i don’t like it when they get soggy”, you explained when you saw the way he looked at you and your unexpectedly dry cereal, and he nodded as though he could totally understand but you could see the gears turn in his head as he tried to comprehend what you’d just told him. then a thought seemed to pop up in his head, and he smiled at you brightly, as if he’d just had the best idea on the planet.

“can i try? i already poured milk, so it’s too late to save mine.” and because he hadn’t mocked you yet and because he hadn’t actually mocked you at all, you nodded at him and his smile got even brighter as he maneuvered a whole three fruit loops on his spoon, eyeing them somewhat suspiciously before he put the spoon into his mouth, chewing with a very concentrated expression, as if he was a connoisseur trying to judge whether or not this food would gain his expert approval. his face lit up in surprise when he did actually end up liking it, and he looked at you as if you’d just shown him heaven on earth.

“they’re so crunchy!”, he told you as if that was in any way unexpected, and you laughed because his cute behaviour even managed to make you forget about the fact that he was sitting shirtless right next to you.

“that’s the point.” you were teasing him just a little, but he repaid you by getting a full spoon from your bowl this time, relishing the taste as his eyes smiled at you (his mouth was busy eating your fruit loops). you looked at him in faked indignation, acting like he had just committed the gravest sin imaginable, but you secretly thought this was nice, a somewhat lazy morning with someone that might be your friend, if you were lucky. you wanted him to be your friend, and the rest of the boys as well, because they were nice and kind and you really wanted friends like that.

“what’re you thinking about?”, mingi asked as he noticed your thoughts had drifted off and the teasing smile had fallen from your lips, the slight worry in his tone not yet noticed by you because you were busy being embarrassed about being caught.

“nothing, nothing”, you quickly replied, once more oblivious to just how easily he seemed to worry about you and how you felt. you first noticed when he put his bowl to his lap, leaning against you to give you some kind of comfort even when he couldn’t use his arms or hands due to the risk of spilling milk all over your bed if he did so, and telling you quietly that it’s okay.

“no it’s not that!”, you immediately back-tracked, “don’t worry. i was just thinking how it’d be nice to be your friend.” you refused to look at him out of embarrassment, so you didn’t notice the smile that made its way to his face, which in turn made your anxiety spike because he wasn’t saying anything, he was just grinning at you like an idiot, but you misinterpreted the silence. now you were feeling a little bad, worried, and you shuffled away from him a little while still not looking at him, but he shuffled after you, awkwardly because his hands were still busy trying to prevent the bowl from tipping. first then did you look up, and first then did you see his expression. and because his smile seemed like a genuinely happy smile instead of a teasing one you smiled back at him, but lowered your head again shortly after, seemingly to resume eating but really you were just embarrassed about this situation, still fearing that it might be weird that you actually liked him enough to want to be his friend.

the two of you ate silently for a little, until he went to steal some of your fruit loops again because his were soggy now, as you’d predicted. when you glared at him he gave you an apologetic grin and you smiled back, even though you were still trying to look angry, and the somewhat awkward mood entirely vanished as he laughed at you.

“don’t laugh at me!” but of course that didn’t make him laugh any less; his laugh actually got louder and you took the bowl from his hands because you feared for your bed, placing it on your poor excuse of a bedside table as you moved to get up to put the breakfast items away. but for some reason a certain boy behind you snaked his hand around your waist, pulling you back against him even though you struggled in his grip.

“mingi!”, you laughed while you tried to pry his hand away, but to no avail. he most definitely had a physical advantage, and he used that against you as he held you against his chest tightly.

“when do you have class?”, he asked instead of acknowledging the fact that he was currently effectively holding you hostage in your own bed. and it worked in distracting you, but not in keeping you hostage, which had most likely been his goal.

“eleven. i should probably get ready now, actually.” and because that was a reason he couldn’t argue with mingi let go of you, though not without pouting at you.

“i don’t want to get up yet”, he whined, but he did it anyway, sighing at an exaggerated volume to let you know just how much he didn’t want to get up yet. you just grinned to yourself while picking up some clothes and disappearing into the bathroom, hearing another loud sigh from behind you as you closed the door.

you were relieved to see that the redhead’s upper body was covered again once you came back from the bathroom, and surprised to find him in your poor excuse of a kitchen drying off the bowls you’d used for breakfast.

“what are you doing?” it wasn’t an accusation, just a question, and he could hear that in your voice, too, so he turned around to smile at you.

“i was bored”, and he shrugged as if cleaning up your mess just because he was bored was the most natural thing in the world.

“if you start cleaning when you’re bored then the guys are really lucky”, you teased, remembering seonghwa’s comment when you’d offered to help him in the kitchen.

“they are”, he said confidently, “they should be grateful i live with them.”

“and you’re so humble, too.” it was probably at least partly owed to the weirdly domestic situation you found yourself in that you felt comfortable teasing him like that, but it didn’t seem like he minded at all, teasing you back by swaying a spoon which he hadn’t yet dried off in your direction, causing some small, cold water droplets to hit your face, which had you gasp in feigned indignation. he laughed at that, and though part of you wanted to scold him for his apparent lack of manners the bigger part of you wanted to join in. his laugh was contagious, you noticed, it was near impossible to not laugh along because he seemed so genuinely happy when he laughed, throwing his head back, even, seemingly entirely lost in the feeling. it made you happy to see for some reason, you thought it was nice.

he finished drying the few dishes you had, with you putting them away, and once that was done he asked you for the time, a thought having formed in his head while you were in the bathroom, but he wasn’t sure if he’d still have enough time for what he wanted to do. it was only nine, though, so that should most definitely be enough time, and you already seemed completely ready to go.

“what’s your first class?”, he then inquired further, and then he wanted to know if the professor was nice, and then, seemingly completely unrelated to his previous questions, if you’d like to go and spend some time at his place now, before your class would start. this did surprise you, but you had nothing against the idea and you knew that you’d most likely get hit by an immense wave of anxiety as soon as you were alone, so you nodded. the two of you grabbed your things, and he managed to be silent for a whole two minutes, until you left the building, at which point he just couldn’t stop himself from asking about what you’d said earlier, even though he’d noticed you were embarrassed about it.

“so are we friends?”

you were taken aback by the sudden question, but tried not to show it as you replied: “i don’t know, are we?”, because you didn’t want to be the one to make this decision when it seemed like it would come with a lot more responsibilities for him.

“do you want to be?”

“do you want to be?” your little back and forth was probably annoying to him, but you couldn’t help being insecure. it wasn’t like people were queueing to be your friend - most people didn’t even know your name, opting to call you whichever member of your friend group they found most important’s friend, so it was easy to feel like your only good attribute was your friends and their popularity that had rubbed off on you. and you knew mingi wasn’t like that - or, you hoped he wasn’t -, but it was easier to know that on the logical level than it was to internalise it, to believe it.

your insecurities were momentarily silenced though when he said “i do”, casually, but you could tell he was at least a little nervous by his next words.

“but only if you want to as well, otherwise i take it back.”

maybe you shouldn’t laugh at that, but it was kind of cute, honestly, reminding you of yourself in first grade, when the way to make friends was to go up to kids you thought looked cool and ask “hey, do you wanna be my friend?”, and they’d either say yes or no, and that was how you ended up with your primary school friend group. and now it seemed like you had made at least one friend in a similar manner, roughly fifteen years later.

“no need to, buddy.” you regretted the nickname as soon as you dropped it because it was weird and it wasn’t at all the way you usually talked, so it felt awkward coming from your lips, but mingi laughed before being equally (or maybe even more) embarrassing by saying “that’s good, palio”, and you were about to take back what you’d said because palio was just too much, even when you’d started this by calling him buddy.

“you sound like some middle-aged man calling all teen boys ‘sport’”, you told him, rolling your eyes even though he couldn’t see since you were walking next to each other.

“and you sound like you’re trying desperately to keep me in the friendzone”, he shot back without thinking much about what he’d said, but as soon as it hit him a few embarrassed curses left his mouth and you saw that he was hitting himself against the forehead when you turned your head to look at him.

“sorry, that was creepy. i literally just entered the friendzone”, he groaned and you laughed. his comment had admittedly taken you aback a bit, but you knew he didn’t mean it the way it came across, so there was no reason to fret.

“what’s the friendzone for if not embarrassing yourself?”, you tried to somewhat comfort him, joking to show that you didn’t think he’d been creepy at all, and it did seem to calm his nerves a little.

“i’d prefer if i wasn’t the only one embarrassing myself, to be fair”, he grinned at you, and you sighed while grinning back.

“need i remind you that the first time we met i was sitting on your lap entirely soaking? or how the morning after i was loudly proclaiming that i hadn’t fucked anyone? or how yunho carried me to your table? or-”

“i got it, i got it!” his hands were raised in defeat, still grinning and somewhat glad that you were joking about these things now, because that was objectively better than you being anxious or upset about them.

“let’s say we’re even?” and even though you were convinced that you had embarrassed yourself much more than him you nodded, because the friendzone was also for letting your friends get their way sometimes, and now was such a sometimes.

you kept joking around on your way, happy at how easy it was to talk to him even when you weren’t currently on the verge of a mental breakdown, and he was glad that you seemed to be doing okay, as well. he paid for your train ticket again, telling you that it was his fault you even needed one so he was going to pay for it, and that you could repay him by bringing some snacks to the pyjama party which was most definitely still happening this weekend. you sighed in defeat, accepting the compromise because he’d already paid anyway so you couldn’t change that fact even if you tried.

“your favourite’s back!” is how mingi decided to make his arrival known to his friends, but jongho, who had seen the two of you enter, quickly turned this around on him when he exclaimed: “oh, you’re right! you brought y/n!” you seemed a lot more pleased by this than the giant, who complained that ‘he’d known the guys for ages and they just dropped him as soon as a pretty girl made her entrance’.

“maybe if you wear a dress”, san, who had now entered the living room as well, suggested, but that was quickly discarded when yeosang groaned “please no, don’t make us witness that”. you laughed, informing them that you did have some satin bed sheets that you could maybe turn into a dress for him, claiming that he’d look like a princess with the right styling.

“are you saying i don’t already look like a princess?”, he asked and put a hand over his mouth in feigned shock, and you patted his arm reassuringly.

“you’re the prettiest princess i’ve ever seen”, you told him and he smiled at you, a massive smile that made his eyes all but disappear, and your interaction didn’t go unnoticed by the others, who, while they didn’t exactly mind, were still confused by how comfortable you seemed around mingi now.

“do i want to know why you’re acting like that?” wooyoung seemed to be the least shy about speaking his mind whenever it came to whatever relationship the redhead and you had, asking for the second time about some peculiar behaviour from the both of you.

“she friendzoned me!”, the giant informed them happily, something that did not at all make anything clearer.

“you sound happier about that than you should be when we’re talking about friendzoning”, yunho let him know with a questioning tone to his voice, and mingi was quick to explain that it was an upgrade from not being in any zone at all, at which point his exclamation finally started to make a little more sense, though his choice of words was still somewhat weird.

“so he’s in the friendzone now, but what about us?”, wooyoung complained in a whiny voice, and you laughed.

“the friendzone’s big enough for all of you.” or that was your opinion. the already friendzoned one didn’t seem to agree, saying that he’d been cuddling you much more than the others so he deserved special treatment.

“you can be my best friend?”, you offered in an attempt at reconciliation, because he was right, and you did feel a little closer to him than you did to the others, which made sense considering you hadn’t spent a night cuddled up with any of them yet. and this seemed to be a good compromise because the pout on his face turned back into a smile, which then turned into a tongue stuck out at his friends. despite the teasing he told you to stay with them while he got changed, though, and told them to keep you busy or they’d be forcibly removed from the friendzone as if it was his choice to make.

“please don’t take this the wrong way”, yeosang asked once he was out of sight, “but why is he acting like that now?”

“i thought he’s just like that?” you didn’t really know what exactly the boy was trying to get at - it wasn’t like mingi was the only one of them that had been nicer to you than you’d expected considering how little you actually knew each other. he just seemed more open about it.

“he’s like that but he’s not like that” was the reply you got, as if that made anything clearer at all.

“care to elaborate?” you were curious about what he’d meant. just what way was the redhead acting that had made his friends ask you what had happened? his behaviour was a little peculiar, yes, but not to a concerning degree. he just seemed like a very open person, willing to let new people into his life easily, like all of them.

it seemed like this was a conversation for another day, though, because the one in question returned from his room, smiling at you with his bag hanging from his shoulder. you gave him a confused look - did you have plans you didn’t know about?

“i thought you had late class today?”, you inquired, and he nodded. then, without any further explanation, he made his way to the door, putting on his shoes and looking at you expectantly. and since you didn’t want to just stand there staring at each other awkwardly you joined, putting your shoes back on as well while you tried to think of what his plan could be.

you could feel several curious pairs of eyes on you as you left the apartment with mingi, which made you sigh silently in relief when the door closed behind you. it wasn’t that you were uncomfortable, but you knew as much as them, and knowing that this was peculiar behaviour from the boy next to you didn’t exactly calm your nerves. they were bad enough already anyway, realising that you’d have to face your ex-friends again today, once more left to deal with it by yourself.

and these nerves led to you bursting out “what are you doing?” as soon as you were out of sight from the others, not even able to interpret your own tone of voice because there was just so much going on in your head at once, you didn’t even know what you were feeling. all you knew was that you were overwhelmed, though maybe not only for valid reasons; you were overwhelmed with his behaviour, overwhelmed with the uncertainty his (your?) friends had accidentally caused to sneak its way into your head, overwhelmed with having to go back to class, overwhelmed with trying to figure out how you’d manage to scratch the money for the laptop together, overwhelmed with fear of what would happen today. overwhelmed with life. it was all of this that had made its way out of your mouth with a single “what are you doing?”, the question simple but the emotions behind it anything but that. maybe it was that which made him reply straight out, without teasing - the fact that you sounded strangely upset at him just leaving with you, which didn’t make it hard to guess that there was more going on than you let on.

“depends on how soon you want to get rid of me. i’m either bringing you to class or joining you.”

“you can’t join me”, you told him with an unidentifiable expression. were you angry? disappointed? did you not want him to join?

“can i try?” he wasn’t going to pressure you, and any reason you gave him for your no would be okay, you wouldn’t even have to give a reason at all - if you didn’t want him to, that was it. but if the only reason why you said he couldn’t was because you didn’t think your professor would allow it he’d most definitely try.

“do you even care about sociolinguistics?” he’d noticed at least somewhat of a pattern in the way you talked by now, that you wouldn’t say things straight out but rather imply them through saying other things that only made sense in the context of you already having given a clear ‘yes’ or ‘no’, and it seemed like now was such a case as well. you hadn’t told him yes, but him caring about your class would only be relevant if he actually joined you in that class. and because of this roundabout way of talking you had he figured that bringing attention back to the original topic would do little to make you feel better when you were actively avoiding answering it directly. so instead he played this situation off as not a big deal, because it didn’t have to be.

“i’m open to expanding my horizons.”

“you ask.” and this time it wasn’t hard to understand your tone - this was the last you wanted to say about this. and he wasn’t complaining, having gotten his way with you so that now his only obstacle was your professor. but in his experience professors didn’t actually mind interested students from other subjects, so he didn’t exactly worry about that. and who knew, maybe sociolinguistics was actually fun? he was more of a maths person, but depending on what kind of student you were he could maybe even get you to explain some things to him. either way, he’d be there to have your back in case something happened again, though he hoped his presence alone would be enough to avoid that, at least for the moment.

the rest of the way to university (during which he’d paid for your train ticket again - by now you gave up on trying to stop him) was mainly him asking you questions about the course, and even though he lacked even the most basic terms you seemed happy to explain all of them, some of them several times because to him things like the concept ‘dialect continuum’ or the difference between sociolect and idiolect were incomprehensible, his own inability to understand a seemingly easy concept frustrating him until he saw the excitement on your face as you got to talk about something you seemed genuinely passionate about with someone that did seem to want to actually understand rather than pretending they did just so you’d shut up quicker.

this rambling had clearly distracted you, in a positive way, because you hadn’t even really registered that you’d reached your classroom already, and even as you waited with a respectful distance to mingi and your professor the anxiety hadn’t returned full force. it probably would as soon as you were left alone again, but judging by the smile on both your professor’s and your friend’s face you’d be spared from that at least for the next few hours, since it seemed like the red-haired giant had sneaked his way into both the man’s mental list of favourite student and his class.

“where do we sit?” you didn’t understand why he seemed so happy - he neither understood nor cared about sociolinguistics, so this class would just be him watching everyone do their thing and being either bored or confused -, but you had no intention on questioning him because the bright smile on his face was better than an annoyed expression. you just went to your regular table, him following suit and seemingly not even noticing the curious looks he was given, just sitting down with you and near begging you to tell him the basics of where you’d left off last lesson so he could at least pretend to be smart. you laughed, getting out your notes and trying your best to make the terms and concepts comprehensible to him, and you were so caught up in that that you forgot that you were supposed to be at least somewhat anxious in this situation.

that was, until you heard a familiar voice from in front of you.

“i’m pretty sure you’re sitting on my seat.”

[arukou-arukou]

A Non-zero Chance

I jumbled the timeline as I was writing this. Just go with it, okay? For @stevetonygames prompt Fluff: Sparring, for team angst. Also adding fic non-linear and tropes: soulmates. Angst with a hopeful ending. Mentions of sex acts. Canon typical violence. There is a read more line after the first section.

 Many many months after that faithful day in Sibera, Tony returned to the scene of the crime. The site was untouched. He hadn’t told Ross about it, and apparently T’Challa had decided well enough was better left alone. The holes they’d put into the bunker of the facility had completely covered over in frost and ice, and Tony had to wonder how Zemo had even dug the little hillock out in the first place. Though there had been a snowcat parked outside when they all first arrived. Without any care, though, it had once again faded into the arctic surroundings. Only someone who knew what they were looking for would find it.

Tony broke in through the holes rather than the front door. He wasn’t really in a mood for digging, and as satisfying as it might be to melt snow with an overloaded repulsor, this mission was also supposed to be stealth and secretive, and he didn’t really need Ross any further up his ass.

Inside, the evidence of their fight wasn’t as big or horrifying as he remembered. There were some structures that had toppled, and a few spots where he’d scorched cement with a repulsor, but it didn’t look nearly as bad as he remembered it being. The Avengers had certainly done worse elsewhere. Tony ran his hand over a shield-shaped crack in the wall.

—

 “This is ridiculous, Cap, we need to know how to fight together, not fight each other.”

Steve smiles back over his shoulder. His ridiculously broad shoulder. “After Wanda mind-whammied us, I’m not taking any chances. We should all know how to incapacitate each other just as a precaution.”

“Only incapacitate, Steve? Not maim?”

Steve chuckles and starts strapping on boxing tape. “No maiming on the docket today. Maybe next Tuesday.”

 —

 Tony followed their trail of destruction back into the heart of the bunker, where the super soldiers still rested suspended, illuminated in sickly yellow. There was the fucking TV, right there. The thing that had ruined it all. Tony stared down at it, wondering where the tape reel itself was located. Probably back in that room Zemo had been hiding in. The bulletproof one. Somewhere in the hallways, Tony could hear water dripping. Impressive, really, given the permafrost all around. He would’ve thought the systems had frozen over long ago. Near his foot, there was a gun, the semi-automatic Barnes had been carrying. It was useless now, its clip and firing mechanisms slagged by his repulsors. He picked it up all the same and aimed it at the glass where Zemo had hidden. The suit’s fingers were too thick to fit over the trigger—what was left of it anyway—so Tony just imagined how satisfying it would be to fill that glass full of shrapnel, to watch Zemo crumple to the ground.

 —

 “Why are you even training me, Rogers? I’m retired. Aren’t you supposed to be looking after the rookies?”

“Just because you’re retired, Tony, doesn’t mean trouble won’t come looking for you. You’re a pretty attractive target.”

“Why yes. Yes, I am. Thank you for noticing.”

Steve punches his bicep gently before offering a bottle of water. Tony takes it, squirting some into his mouth before moving on to his sweat-drenched hair. On Steve’s left wrist, he catches sight of the red band that hides Steve’s words. It would be rude to ask. Totally taboo. But Tony can’t stop himself.

 —

 Tony managed to jimmy his way into the control room, and there he found the VCR, still loaded with the incriminating tape. If he were smart, he would just rip the thing apart, burn the tape and shatter the shell. And Tony was smart. Just not smart in the right ways. He fired up the power to the TV, rewound the tape, and then hit play again. He’d rewound too far. Barnes was in his cryo tube. Some slimy scientists were hauling him out, shoving him into some horrifying chair, pushing down the nodes, saying the words.

No. Tony didn’t want this. He didn’t want to feel sympathy for Barnes. He wanted to let his rage fester and corrode him until he didn’t care anymore. All caring had ever gotten him was betrayal.

 —

 “Do you know who they belong to?” Tony asks, looking up defiantly, refusing to be sheepish about his lack of willpower. Steve glances down at his band before looking up again.

“Yeah. Yeah, I do.” He looks wistful and boyish, sweet and beautiful. Tony wants to kiss away the sorrow he sees in that face.

“Who?”

“Doesn’t matter. He’s dead now.”

“Oh.” Tony touches his own band, thinking of the words beneath. He’s my friend. The most significant thing anyone will ever say to him. The thing that, if the romantics would have him believe it, points him toward his soulmate. He’s never really gone in for that, though. His parents had had each other’s words, and their marriage was anything but blissful and romantic.

No. Tony’s got a different theory about the words.

 —

 There. Tony spotted it before even knowing he was looking for it. On Barnes’ collarbone. Had fate known he would lose the arm? It was unusual for words to be somewhere else on the body. Non-dominant wrist. That was the norm. The tap quality was shit and Tony couldn’t enhance it without bringing the tape back to Fry. And like hell he was bringing the tape home. Were the files somewhere? Hadn’t Zemo had a book? Maybe it was here?

Tony searched the control room, trying to find evidence of the thing Zemo had used to control Barnes. There was no sign of it, but what there were were dozens of filing drawers, all of them covered in a layer of dust. Tony started digging.

 —

 Steve’s off his game today, Tony can tell. He’s distracted by something, mind not in the ring, and Tony takes advantage. Just like Steve and Nat taught him to. He sweeps Steve’s leg, rolls on top of him, pins his leg in a position that's precariously dangerous even for a supersoldier, and applies weight. “Yield?”

It’s late, the halls are quiet. Tony hadn’t even meant to do sparring with Steve today, but Steve had asked, so Tony had delayed his return to New York City and well, the late hour puts his mind elsewhere.

Their eyes lock. Tony’s still on top of Steve, holding him in place, threatening his knee joint. Between one breath and the next, their positions are flipped, Steve on top of Tony, both of them hard, teeth clacking. Tony doesn’t make it back to New York City that night.

 —

 What felt like hours later, Tony finally discovered what looked like a medical log. He’d been trying to learn Russian, but adding a new script was harder than adding a spoken language, and he was a busy man, what with covering Rogers’ ass every other day. Natasha might have been a master spy, but Steve was a puppy who hadn’t learned how to control his tail wag yet, and he left destroyed crockery in his wake. There was always some trail to some terrorist or smuggler or weapons dealer that needed cleaning up, lest Ross take notice. The point being, Tony’s Russian wasn’t exactly sparkling.

But he’d double-checked ahead of time to know what he was looking for and now he was pretty sure he’d found it. Flipping through the file, Tony found what he wanted to know almost instantly. ‘Til the end of the line. The words. Those words.

 —

 It’s a thing. Sort of. Tony comes to the compound. They spar. They fuck. It’s only their third time sleeping together that Steve drags him into the shower, wristband conspicuously absent. Tony touches the thin skin, for once asking permission before he looks down. Steve nods, trusting, contented. I’m with you to the end of the line, pal. “He” Steve had said. Tony doesn’t need to ask to know who “he” is. There was only one really important “he” in Steve’s life way back when. And it makes sense, too. After all, Barnes plunged to his death trying to protect Steve and Steve had tried to protect him just as hard. Of course they’re important to each other.

“Can I see yours,” Steve asks, kissing Tony’s band. Fair’s fair, Tony thinks to himself, and nods.

Steve gently unclasps the snaps and sets the band aside outside the shower. He looks down at the words and then up at Tony with a silent question. “I don’t know whose they are.”

“And you’re still okay with us?”

“Steve, I’m standing naked in a shower with you. I’m pretty damn okay with this.”

The bright grin Steve gives him feels like a gift.

 —

 Tony left, hauling the tape and the filing cabinets behind him. They would be useful sooner or later, he was sure. And it felt so important, hauling his literal baggage along with him back to the US. Well, first a pit stop in Wakanda so Shuri could make copies. Fry flew the quinjet on autopilot, which was maybe a mistake. Tony needed distractions and all he had were files rendered in Russian, which were frankly giving him a headache. He wanted to hate Barnes so much. But fate was literally sending him a message. Barnes. Rogers. ‘Til the end of the line.

Eventually, frustrated, he managed to sink into a fitful sleep, which took him to Wakanda’s borders. T’Challa sent along an escort at the shield wall to make sure Tony was alone and also to make sure Tony didn’t cause any undue trouble. As if he could manage anything more than a nervous breakdown at the moment. Shuri was waiting for him on the platform, and for her and her brilliant mind, he managed a tired smile.

“Brought a present for you.”

“Thank you, Tony. I would get them myself, but—”

“No, no. You’re busy in Oakland kicking science ass and shooting layups with the youth. Let the old guy take care of the analog—” Tony shuddered theatrically “—files.”

Shuri smiled more brightly and kissed him on the cheek. “You look tired. Go see my mother. She’ll be wanting to mother you.”

“I shouldn’t. I’ve gotta—”

“My brother has already ensured that General Ross cannot find you. Go. Eat some food. Get some rest. Perhaps we can talk about your latest arc reactor designs in the morning. I have some ideas.”

“I bet you do.”

Tony knew when he’d been dismissed, and he also knew he was being handled a little, but it felt nice to be handled. It felt nice to not have to be trying to outwit Ross at every turn for a little while. So he allowed Ramonda to stuff him full of delicious, spicy food and then shuffled off to the guest wing, intent on getting at least four hours before he took off.

But the second he laid down, he was awake and restless, unable to settle. His thoughts kept going back to those files, going back to the “end of the line,” thinking again and again about the letters carved into Steve’s skin. How many times had he kissed that wrist? How many times had Steve kissed his? How was it fair, that Steve would be Tony’s words, but Tony wouldn’t be Steve’s?

Fed up, he yanked on a pair of loose cotton pants and a loose cotton T-shirt and wandered the palace, looking for distraction. None of the guards stopped him, though they watched him with considerable distrust. He didn’t blame them. He wouldn’t trust him either. Not anymore. It was only when he heard the sound of skin slapping leather that he stopped short. That sounded like… But it couldn’t be. All the same, he pushed through the door, freezing as he discovered a huge training ground, Steve inside, alone at a punching bag.

Steve froze too, and the bag caught him on the backswing, smacking him straight in the nose. Tony found himself caught between laughing and rushing forward with concern, and ended up doing a bit of both, snorting as he approached, though he remained well out of Steve’s personal bubble. “Smooth, Cap.”

“Tony, what are you doing here?”

Tony scuffed his toes into the mats, which felt solid right up until he kicked them and then gave way like kinetic sand. It felt heavenly and he wanted to play with it and see what it was made out of. “Oh, you know. Just dropped in for a cuppa with the King.”

“Did…did you bring those files?” Steve remained sprawled on the floor, looking up at him, a trickle of blood trailing from his nose.

“And if I did?”

Steve swallowed heavily, rubbing at the blood and smearing it. And then he was up, faster than Tony could react to, holding Tony, kissing him sloppily through mumbled “I’m sorry’s.” Tony didn’t know how to react. Was this what an out-of-body experience felt like? He remained motionless even as Steve broke away, jumping back, looking more unsure than he’d looked since he and Tony first met. “Shit. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have… You don’t want…” Steve took a huge breath and squared his shoulders, looking Tony in the eye. “That was wrong of me. I hurt you. In so many ways. It was wrong of me to kiss you.”

“Also pretty sure you’re cheating on your boyfriend if you kiss me. Don’t forget that bit.”

The little line between Steve’s eyebrows deepened. “Bucky and I, we’re not… We’re just not. I thought we would. But I can’t. Every time I tried, I felt like I was betraying you. And Bucky felt like it was wrong, too. We didn’t…we didn’t click. Not romantically, anyway.”

“You’re not…” Tony could barely dare to let himself to hope. “Didn’t you back in the war, though?”

“No. No, we didn’t. It was too much, running missions, fighting Hydra. Plus, he was afraid I’d get caught and outed. So we didn’t. I should’ve told you. But I didn’t think it mattered.”

All the thoughts Tony used to have about the words, the idea that maybe they had nothing at all to do with romance, came back to him. He ran a finger over his own wrist, where Steve’s words were hidden.

“Hey, Steve?”

“Yeah?” Steve stood there, square, looking as though he was waiting to be punched, ready to take his punishment like a man.

“Wanna spar?”