#being apart of a small fandom is genuinely so cursed

[ssaseaprince]

I want to just rewatch this movie over and over again, but the amount of fanfiction between my ship is so minimal that it's putting me off from rewatching it

[allthingswhumpyandangsty]

There is a special place in hell for all the people behind these bot attacks that harm AO3 and the communities we built.

A reminder that Archive of Our Own is not Instagram or TikTok. It isn’t run by a big company with money and power. The site is a non-profit site run by volunteers (fans), for fans. And its main purpose is to bring people within the same fandom together and connect artists with audiences who would love and appreciate these artists’ works. It’s the only platform without any ads, without any censorship, without any of these capitalism bullshit. It doesn’t make users pay for any features and the only source of money they get, to keep the site up and running, is through donations. It’s literally a safe place for every fandom.

To think that it’s a target just because it’s easier to attack than those huge companies is just so sad.

Not to mention that there are so many genuine guest users out there (people who aren’t logged in / don’t have an AO3 account), and these people are directly affected by this whole thing, because they are no longer able to comment and connect with their favorite creators — and this still affects creators directly because I know for a fact that getting comments and being able to connect with their audience mean the world to them. I don’t blame AO3 for disabling guest comments altogether.

I do blame and curse the fuckers behind these bot attacks though.

If you try to sabotage AO3, out of all the other platforms out there, you are pathetic. You’re not just attacking a small, independent company, you’re trying to tear apart people’s communities and safe place. Disrespectfully, fuck you. Burn in hell.

Mad respect to all the brave soldiers that are AO3 volunteers who work harder than god fighting these scums.

I know these brave soldiers will win in the end (they always did, this isn’t their first battle, mind you), but in the meantime I’m sending them all my love and respect. They truly are the heroes.

[reallyromealone]

Title: oh hey a mate(s)

Chapter: one

Fandom: obey me

Pairing: demon brother's x male reader

Warnings: suggestive themes, readers got truama, internalized gender hatred, anxiety, panic attacks, mentions of being a breeding tool, self hate, reader doesn't really understand sex, sexual themes, omegaverse, male reader, mentions of mpreg

🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️

"HE STOLE THEM FROM ME!" (sisters name) Screeched out in a rage as she threw things around "they were supposed to be MY mates! And he stole them! That whore stole them!" She was hyperventilating at this point as her body shook, feeling robbed of her alphas.

Of her life, the thing she wanted more than anything.

"I know sweety but maybe we can set you up wit--"" I don't want someone else! I want the princes!"

And she was going to get them.

She swore it.

'fuck you (name)'

Holy shit this place was big.

God he felt under dressed, especially beside these alphas who were dressed so fancy and perfect.

The floors were marble and two grand staircases winded on each side and paintings that had to be centuries old hung on the walls "we will have one commissioned for you soon enough... Maybe one with us all" Belphegor yawned as he wandered the halls "for now, let's get you settled in" he said and looked to a nervous looking Leviathan who nodded.

(Name) Was nervous as he walked beside the demon who seemed to want to be anywhere but here "I-im sorry if I wasn't who you were expecting... I'll try and not step on your toes" (name) whispered, anxiously fiddling with his fingers and looked down "i-i dont-- fuck... I'm really nervous and anxious and just I don't really talk to omegas often so I'm just--" the demon seemed panicked and (name) felt relief flood through his veins as he pumped out calming pharamones for the Alpha "hey... I get it, if it's any consolation... I'm not great with people either-- hell I think this is the first time I ever left my families property!" He laughed a bit but Leviathan was shocked at his words "you never been into the capital or even your home town?" He asked genuinely and (name) shook his head "nah, my parents didn't trust me going out there-- you know how troublesome an Omega can be"

What the fuck? That's all Leviathan could think as he looked at the Omega worried "I- you're not troublesome?" He whispered and (name) just smiled "I try not to be" (name) giggled a bit as they continued to (name)s apartment, the Omega expecting a quaint bedroom but...

"I think we went to the wrong room.... This is awfully big" (name) said softly to the envy demon who looked confused "you like your apartment?" Asmodeus popped out from nowhere and pulled (name) close with a flirty grin "we had the butlers being your things in, don't worry we didn't let them unpack... Pharamones and all that ~" he pulled (name) into the apartment and (name) felt overwhelmed by all this "there's a nesting room there~ if you need help don't hesitate to ask"

"A-are you sure?"

"Sure of what?"

"That this is for me?"

"You are to be our mate, I personally wanted you with me but Luci wanted you to have your own space... Something about acclimating" his words teasing and (name) chuckled but cut short when his stomach growled and the two demons looked curious "oh yeah! Humans need to eat for survival!"

(Name) Felt embarrassed as he silently cursed his stomach for exposing him like this as the demons looked at one another in a silent conversation.

They were definitely having a sibling meeting later.

(Name) Dissociated during the rest of the evening, eventually ending back in the rooms he was given, the size of his old house if not a bit bigger...

Everything was pristine as he took out his belongings, his prized possessions and small hobbies to occupy him.

A few heirlooms and books and his childhood stuffed toy 'this will go in my nest' he thought as he looked at the nesting room doors, two ornate doors in a rose gold shade, the apartment all light colors unlike the rest of the palace.

It was a strange contrast, almost like they didn't know what to expect so they just made what they thought humans liked. It was funny really, demons trying to understand what humans wanted or needed as he was doing the same, wondering what these demons wanted or liked.

Getting up he went to the nesting room and was overwhelmed by the nesting supplies he was given, piles and piles of blankets and pillows and soft things, his purring could probably be heard from outside the apartment as he snuggled into them, a sense of safety he wasn't quite used to washing over him.

He was excited to make a large nest, spending half the night making it perfect for him to rest in and just not think about the fact he was to be mated on his next heat to seven strangers that were also fucking royalty! Well there goes not thinking about it because here he was!

Also his sister! Holy shit she was mad! And like at his wedding she will be there! Fuuck!

(Name) Was just sitting there head in hands as he processed the fact that within 24 hours he was now engaged and now in the public eye!

(Name) Curled up closer into his blankets and let out a shutter of a sigh, he wondered if he would be able to do the things he enjoyed before... Would he be allowed to garden? Would he have to dress more Omegan? Or would he be able to wear clothes that were comfortable?!

He needed to walk, movement to process this.

Getting up he walked out of his apartment and into the hall, dark and grand, ceilings at least 15 feet tall and paintings lined, some he recognized as the siblings and some unfamiliar as he walked around curiously.

Somehow he made it to the kitchen "I hope they don't mind..." (Name) Whispered as he sliced an apple, careful and gentle as his stomach growled a bit.

"Can I have some?" A voice startled him out of his thoughts causing him to slice his finger "shit!" The voice said and (name) looked to see Beelzebub who in turn looked a bit startled as he took (name)s bleeding finger and put it in his mouth, the Omega looking thoroughly concerned as Beelzebub sucked on the blood "I feel like this is incredibly unsanitary" (name) whispered worried and beez released his finger "demons saliva can heal amongst other things, depends on the demon really"

"Oh " (name) said dumbly as he looked at his wet but healed finger "what else does your saliva do?" He asked curiously and Beelzebub smiled at the others cute and curious expression "ah, well besides healing my saliva can work as an aphrodisiac if ingested!" (Name) Looked concerned and Beelzebub laughed "don't worry, it only works if I were to like make out with you or eat your ass!"

And now (name) was flustered as the gluttony demon kept laughing at his embarrassment "so why are you up so late?" Beelzebub asked after calming down and sealing some apple slices and cutting up some more, handing (name) an orange "just... It's stupid"

"Oh please!" Beelzebub pushed and (name) sighed "I'm just... I'm having trouble processing this stuff, it's stressful and like-- I never left my property let alone this! My sister wanted to be with you guys and she's already insufferable, this is just worse! I'm just paranoid that you guys are going to realize that like this was a mistake and reject me and like the fear of being an Omega in general! Will I be able to do the things i enjoyed before? Will I be a breeding tool?!" He was hyperventilating now as Beelzebub panicked "hey hey, calm down! It will be alright and-- no we aren't making you a breeding Omega.... shhh" beez tried to calm him as footsteps quickly made their way to the kitchen.

"What is happening?" Lucifer and the others seemed startled as the smell of distress was heavy in the kitchen "he's worried we will strip him of his rights and make him carry our young" Beelzebub explained as he lifted (name) into his arms and set him on the counter "were demons but we aren't monsters" Satan said disgusted and Asmodeus smiled "we would never do that unless it's what you're into~" he teased the Omega as they crowded him "I know it's an incredibly hard adjustment but know we mean well, it's literally impossible for us to not fall for each other" it's true soulmates would eventually fall for one another due to the bond "and we are sharing one mate so that means you have seven people to love you" mammon said in a rare moment of genuine care "what do you mean?"

"Oh yeah, he knows basically nothing about secondary gender or soulmates" Levi said softly and the demons looked horrified "well I know what we are doing tomorrow" Satan said simply and (name) looked ashamed and couldn't meet their eyes, feeling stupid for his lack of knowledge.

"Well his town is backwards" Belphegor yawned and wandered off back to bed now that the problem was solved "goodnight...."

(Name) Was led back to his room by Beelzebub and Asmodeus and looked confused when they put sweaters in his arms "the smell of your alphas will calm you~" Asmodeus said simply and the two wished him a good night.

And for once?

He sleped peacefully.

(Name) Spent the next few days learning about soulmates and secondary genders, the two interlocking "when your heat comes, it will be dangerous for you to not mate with your soulmate" (name) read the book in his off time, the book explaining how the bonding is key to not cause rejection symptoms or a drop, he definitely didn't want that. Fuck how does he have sex? Fuck.

Time to go figure that out, he really felt behind on this shit.

(Name) Made home in the library as he looked for any books that would aid him "Hmm? Looking for sex books ~ didn't know our omega was like that" Asmodeus seemed to love just appearing out of thin air and scaring (name) who dropped the book "i-i it's not like that!"

"Hmmm? And what is it about? Oh you're so cute when your flustered!" He cooed and (name) huffed "I am trying to figure out like, how sex works and stuff... I wasn't exactly taught... Just put on suppressants so my family could avoid it" he just constantly felt ashamed with them, their faces of realization and pity as (name) tried not to cry "well, if you like I could teach you~ don't worry I won't touch you where you don't like" Asmodeus could get used to his omega so flustered as he got closer, his alpha giddy at his mate being untouched "the first thing one should know is their body after all~"

"I- uh... I'm not sure..."

Asmodeus let his lips barely touch (name)s as he caged him against a bookshelf and smiled, his tail flickering and (name) seemed a bit startled by it All as the demon gently kissed him "that was... Uh.." "your first kiss?"

"Yeah..."

"Did you like it?"

(Name) Could only nod as the lust avatar giggled sweetly at his adorable Omega "oh, you're going to fit in nicely here~!" He doted on (name) a bit "don't worry darling, we won't do anything your not ready for but if you're willing... To experiment a bit, I'm always a summon away" and with that he was gone, (name) left with nothing more than the smell of his pharamones, sweet Jasmine and warm vanilla.

It wasn't till after lunch that Lucifer brought him to the gardens, a small greenhouse and a garden plot stood "we had it cleaned up, you said you liked gardening" he said simply and looked down at (name) who looked like he was given the potion of youth "really? Thank you so much..." (Name) Was releasing the happiest pharamones and Lucifer kept composure but god damn did that boost his ego as an alpha, making his mate happy.

"Just clean yourself off after you finish" Lucifer said calmly and (name) beamed at this "of course!"

(Name) Puttered in the greenhouse and began planting things, thankfully it was early in the season so he had time to make a nursery for plants "oh, sor--" (name) immediately shut up as he saw Belphegor sleeping in a sun beam, cozy and calm. Looking around (name) found his cape that Satan had made for him and covered the demon with it "it's still chilly" he whispered and went back to work, unaware the demon was awake and watching intently at the Omega who was carrying heavy pots and sacks of soil around.

(Name) Kept quiet for the Alpha, he must be so exhausted to fall asleep in a greenhouse of places so it would be best to let him rest! Eventually (name) moved outside, it was less chilly but a slight chill but movement will keep him warm! Using twine he found in the greenhouse he sectioned spots of the garden plots for various things like carrots and garlic amongst others, they were still in the nursery but it's good to get things ready now, he reasoned with himself.

"Your Highness! It's quite cold!" A servant panicked as she saw (name) in nothing more than a shirt and pants and apron, dirt on his cheek "don't worry! I'm alright!" He reasoned but she was not having it and removed her cape "it's not good for an Omega to be cold like this!"

Before she could drape the cape on (name), he felt fur on his shoulders as Mammon smiled with a warning "don't worry, he's warm" his eyes telling the servant to leave and (name) looked confused "oh hello!" (Name) Smiled at the demon who felt annoyed at how sweet the other was, his bond making his heart beat fast "Luci wanted me to take you into town so get ready" he grumbled and (name) nodded, a simple smile on his face as he wandered to the palace "where's your cape anyways?! It's freezing for mortals!" He chastised and (name) chirped "Belphegor was sleeping and I wanted him to be cozy!" (Name) Couldn't explain why he felt so calm and comfortable with the princes but they made him feel safe, even if they were sometimes like angry chihuahuas.

"You're weird" mammon said with no bite as they walked to (name)s area.

The tailors and seamstresses worked tirelessly to put together some clothes for (name) and his new class, the maids commenting about how the seamstress always kept embroidered sleeves on hand as the brothers always tore clothes during training--- well save for Asmodeus and Belphegor who couldn't be fucked to do stuff like that.

(Name) Felt regal, a beautiful vest made of silk and embroidered with birds and roses and a linen powers shirt and nice pants and expensive boots "you look wonderful your Highness!" A maid commented, (name) growing fond of his personal maids who cheered him in, them all being mated and married betas.

(Name) Was curious as he looked around the city, never really interacting with so many people who looked at he two in awe, the guards keeping a fair distance as he looked at stalls "you seriously never been in a city?" Mammon said incredulously and (name) looked confused "no? It's not right for an Omega to be by himself around alphas, I would be a temptation" reiterating his parents words and Mammon was horrified at the omegas genuine belief that HE was the problem and not alphas who couldn't keep their hands to themselves "well we are unpacking that later"

He didn't even want to get into the family thing, remembering the chat he had with his brothers when (name) had his meltdown and the acceptance that their Omega came from a very problematic living situation but he seemed to be acclimating well.

Or at least he hoped.

Mammon was confused as (name) handed him a stuffed bunny "what is this?" He raised an eyebrow from behind his circular sunglasses "well we didn't get to actually court because of being soulmates so I got you all courting gifts" he chirped out innocently, remembering what he was taught by Lucifer and deciding to put it in action though he seemed to have gotten it backwards as it was supposed to be the Alpha who gave the courting gifts.

"I- uh... Thank you?"

(Name) Seemed pleased as they continued their walk through the cities market, a giant hub of the equally giant city as Mammon stared at the bunny that was made of fabric the same color as his eyes, a small detail that made him flustered.

He noticed (name) budgeting, a soft smile on his face "you know we have basically endless money, right?" Well mammon didn't, he was cut off and put on a strict budget but (name)? He still had his money privileges "that's your money, this is so much!" To (name) it was a lot of money as he did the budgeting of the house back with his family, this was ten times of what they made in a year! "I am fine with this"

Hell, how did they get the exact opposite of them?!

A nervous Omega who was innocent and naive and sweet as honey!

"Oh you are absolutely precious!" Asmodeus cooed at the stuffed rabbit that fit in his hands "I hadn't even thought of courting!" He said with exaggerated sadness and (name) watched the others alphas reactions, though it wasn't the fanciest courting gift, it was a genuinely thoughtful one.

"He was worried about spending the money, he literally budgeted it" mammon groaned and Lucifer snorted "you could do well to learn that" he said as (name) seemed reminded and handed him back the coin bag, the Omega barely dented it "I got a few things for my hobbies but I brought back the change!" He said sweety and Lucifer had cute aggression at that moment as (name) looked at him with so much pride "you know you could have spent all of this right?" He said a little slow, (name) nodding "but that would be rude, I'm spending all your money without care... I don't like that"

Seriously, how did they manage to be fated with the sweetest Omega?!

"He didn't even but himself actual things for himself! He bought things to make us things!" Mammon groaned out but they all knew he equally swooned at the fact their Omega was so sweet.

But also he didn't buy himself anything, Asmodeus has had to bring him to eat and Beelzebub would put food on it.

"Rural Omega culture is different than cities, they're treated more as a commodity" a maid explained to Asmodeus one night as she helped him get ready for bed, she herself being an alpha from the boonies "an inconvenience would be a better word though, everything your saying shows he was treated like how my love got treated, need to make them feel genuinely valued" she went to explain how omegas need regular scenting and assurance to keep mentally regulated and (name) probably never had that.

Which would explain why he seemed like he was constantly waiting for the next shoe to drop despite growing used to them.

Like it was all going to go away.

His dreams were often that, every night he dreamt of waking up in his old room as his sister lived the life she wanted and he was stuck in that musty bedroom where he would rot.

"Your dreams are noisy" Belphegor mumbled as he crawled into bed with (name) and held him close, pumping out pharamones as he thought smugly about the fact he's technically been in bed with (name) before the others. (Name) Snuggled in his chest and physically relaxed, chirping in his sleep as he clung helplessly to him and he was hooked.

He wanted this more and was already annoyed he would have to share with his brothers.

(Name) Let his mates to be plan the wedding though he and Beelzebub thought of food together, the demon horrified at how little foods he got to experience and made him try everything for the wedding and smiled at his happy face with good food "these are mirangue cookies! Like eating plaster that loves you!" He exolained and (name) basically melted at now delicious it was.

Beelzebub was more than happy to share food with him, his alpha wanting the Omega to be well fed to carry his pups after all.

They were all anxious for mating, their bond slowly making them VERY intense about (name) who after weeks, finally sat close to Satan as he read with him though (name) did struggle a bit "omegas being taught to read is laughable, I taught myself as much as I could" he explained and that's when Satan decided he would read for (name), the two spending an hour or two in the library reading together like how Lucifer spent his time teaching (name) new things when he wasn't busy or just dragging him along with things.

(Name) Was always well behaved, he thought of (name)s family and how they were... How did this come out of THAT.

But now, (name) had one worry...

Would he invite his family to his wedding?

[heyitstyyyy]

so remember how I said I had ideas for that Howl’s Moving Castle au?

yeah I went bonkers JSJDJDS (excuse the messy handwriting, if u need clarification for what it says just ask smmssm)

Tang is Sophie, Macaque is Howl, MK is Markl, LBD is the Witch of the Waste (instead of turning to an old woman though she turns into the lil girl), I think I’ll have Lady Iron Fan as the headmaster of magic (I forget the name but I believe that’s what she was called in the movie sjsjsj), Mo is Heen, Red Son is Calcifer, aaannd Wukong is Turnip Head (hehehe Peach Head)

made a few changes to some of it, like instead of a normal curse that’s put on Macaque and Red Son, Macaque had taken some of the Samadhi Fire inside of him while coming across Red Son going bonkers when he was a baby, and so his “monster” form is less bird based and more fire based

the little girl yoinks Macaque’s heart out of genuine confusion and not out of selfishness

MK’s disguise isn’t an old man, it’s his old monkie design

Tang is a worker at Pigsy’s Noodles instead of a hat shop, and finds Macaque while delivering noodles to Sandy, and Yin and Jin are hassling with him and not flirting with him

when Macaque rescues him from Yin and Jin, he mistakes him for Monkie King (which Macaque just chuckles at) and doesn’t realize who he is. he ends up reading up on the Lore with Sandy (who saw him fly in and got him some tea in case he was still freaked out or smth), and is terrified upon realizing its Macaque, who the book says is evil. Sandy’s all like “well he helped you right?” so Tang is conflicted, but overall set on “yea hes evil the Lore says so”

Tang gets caught by LBD after going home to his apartment, finding her there looking for Sun Wukong. Tang is sassy and skeptical per usual, and because he doesn’t turn over the info (that he doesnt even have, but she thinks she does bc she saw him with Macaque before), he curses him as a warning, to show him how powerful she can be. Mei tries to get him out of his apartment that morning (she works at Pigsy’s too) but he plays at being sick. she leaves the building, so Tang is able to slip out easily and head to the mountains to see if he can find Macaque, bc he did help him before, and might know what’s going on

Red Sun turns back into a human(?) after Macaque’s heart is returned, and stays with Macaque and the gang so that Macaque can guide him in controlling the fire himself (and totally NOT because he’d miss them)

Wukong is still well known as the Monkie King and all the lore and stuff with him is basically the same as it was in the series, except the whole “Wukong murdered Macaque” thing didn’t happen, and was a misconception bc they DID know each other as kids, but Macaque disappeared after meeting Red Son, and LBD cursed Wukong WAAAY after that for the lols

also a small detail that I couldn’t illustrate here; Macaque doesn’t start with blonde fur, he starts with white fur! thought that would be a cute nod to that one interpretation of Macaque with white fur, and the fandom’s whole theory that he used to have white fur, but lost it, except that, instead of getting burned or bc he was killed, it’s just cause Tang messed with his hair dye hehe

hope this wasn’t too too much nsjsjs,, I just really love this movie, it being one of my favorites of all time, and ofc when I saw the Inkypages content with it, I got inspired,, I hope it was okay that I took that idea and ran with it like a football,, hehe,, maybe I’ll make a fic out of it! def been thinking abt it, just dunno if I’ll do it yet,,,

og idea by @pechachaos

check them out!!! they’re SUPER talented,,!!

[bocadelicate]

red lips and rosy cheeks

Their faces were inches away now, and Hari couldn’t help but notice the way his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “Oh, really? Well, we can’t have the love of my life being confused about our special activity. You know, she’s quite precious to me.”

She winked. “She’s probably really pretty, isn’t she?”

“Prettier than me, that’s for sure,” he said smoothly and captured her lips with his.

or: taemoo sneaks out to see hari in the middle of the night.

hatae, 1.1k words, written for @eggothemusicalwaffle and i's tayriana songfic challenge! inspired by our song by @taylorswift, also on ao3.

notes:

hi friends (✿◠‿◠) welcome back to my tayriana songfic challenge : hatae’s version !! 

if you’re new — which i assume u are, unless u are also in the ml fandom haha — hi i’m shri !!! i love fluff and cute adorable wholesome moments so that’s mainly what i write <33

essentially a quick rundown of this challenge: i'm writing a songfic for one song from each of taylor & ariana’s albums!! i’ve already posted one for you belong with me, my song for fearless tv, and it’s a childhood friends high school au !! so if that’s something you’re interested in, i’ll link here :)

the song this songfic is for is from debut: our song !! it focuses on hari & taemoo’s secret relationship and has some minor changes so that it’s more convenient for the plot i had planned out XD. i made it so that hari got her own apartment after she got a job at gofood & her parents aren’t in serious debt anymore (as in she can afford her own place fine and her parents are holding up perfectly fine! as they should). taemoo still lives with dagoo like canon suggests, so if you’re wondering if that’s the same, it is.

enjoy :)

NAVIGATION:

1 (you are here!) | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15

our song is the slamming screen door

sneakin' out late, tapping on your window

“Ba-Taemoo? What are you doing here?” Her cheeks burned at the way his lips curved up into a smirk — he most definitely caught onto her slip up — and whispered, “It’s past midnight. I thought you were staying with your grandfather- mmf!”

Taemoo lightly pressed his index finger against her lips, carefully pushing them back into the apartment before looking into her eyes. “I missed you,” he said with a nonchalant shrug, kicking the front door shut simultaneously. “Grandfather has been bothering me about the blind dates all night so I excused myself for the night and snuck out to see you.”

Hari was sure her skin was at least two shades of pink darker. Maybe strawberry red even. “You risked getting caught — in trouble — for me?” His cheeks seemed to take a light red tint, and Hari couldn’t help but pout and wrap her arms around him. The smile on her face grew as he squeezed her back, resting his head on top of hers. It was like he was a giant teddy bear and she was so small in comparison.

She loved that feeling more than anything else, really, but she’d never admit that to him.

“I did,” he admitted and pressed a gentle kiss onto her forehead. “Like I said, I missed you.”

Hari grinned and tugged him towards the kitchen. Sometimes, she wished he weren’t rich and famous and they could have genuine dates in public without being scared of blowing their cover, but nothing could beat the sight of Taemoo — her boyfriend! — searching for a bag of popcorn with a confused expression. She found it adorable how his lips pushed out slightly and his eyebrows knit together when he couldn’t figure something out.

She giggled softly as he opened what was probably the fifteenth drawer. “You would think after dating me for awhile you would know your way around here,” she said in a teasing tone as she went on her tippy toes to open a cabinet. “It’s in, uh, that one,” she said with a groan.

Curse her short genes.

She heard Taemoo chuckle from behind her and couldn’t help but flush again, heat rushing to her cheeks. Was it getting hot in here?

“No, the air conditioning’s on.”

Oh. Her skin felt like it was burning now, and Hari was sure her skin was just as red as the bag the popcorn was in. “Did I say that out loud?”

Taemoo smirked. “Do you need a lift?”

She took that as a yes. “Perhaps. What do you think, Mister Knight in shining armor?” Hari booped his nose gently and held back the urge to coo gently at the way his eyes crossed to look at her finger. 

What she didn’t expect was for him to lift her up with one arm, open the cabinet with the other, grab the paper-like bag of popcorn — she had made it earlier in the day, thankfully — and run towards her bedroom. She would’ve lied if she said it hadn’t been slightly exhilarating, especially when he dropped her onto the comfy cushioning of her bed without any warning. 

His hands framed her in a sense, resting on both sides of her head, and her breath caught in her throat as their eyes locked. This man was so, so, so beautiful, and Hari really was in denial that he was all hers — strings attached. There was no way she was that lucky. 

“You know,” his deep voice cut her out of her mini daydream, “I think we could do something.. else, rather than watch a movie.”

The corner of her smile lifted up and she couldn’t help the flirty tone that laced her words. “Oh yeah? What something else?” She dragged her hand down his button up, kissing away the small droplet of sweat falling down his forehead. “I think I need a more in depth explanation.”

Their faces were inches away now, and Hari couldn’t help but notice the way his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “Oh, really? Well, we can’t have the love of my life being confused about our special activity. You know, she’s quite precious to me.”

She winked. “She’s probably really pretty, isn’t she?”

“Prettier than me, that’s for sure,” he said smoothly and captured her lips with his. His lips were soft — as they always were — and sweet. They tasted subtly like espresso and vanilla, and Hari couldn’t resist the urge to kiss him over and over again. They fit perfectly, like two pieces of a puzzle, and she loved that more than she could express in words. There were not enough words in any language to express the love she felt for him.

As they pulled away briefly, Hari couldn’t help but gasp. “Y-Your.. your lips-”

Taemoo brushed his thumb against his bottom lip and a red tint appeared on his skin. His eyes flickered to Hari’s lips — lipstick all smeared on her lips — and smirked. “Could you get the lipstick you used today, baby?”

Her cheeks felt almost feverish at the nickname — she honestly had liked it when he had called her that constantly when pretending to be her boyfriend — but held herself together as she nodded and got up to retrieve it. The tube was standing upright near her sink and she handed it to him. 

She, however, did not expect for him to open the tube, gently cup her face, and apply the lipstick to her lips again. She was sure the pigment of the makeup matched her skin in the moment, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. He tapped the side of his cheek with a small smile and she grinned, planting a kiss onto his cheek.

“Now everyone will know who owns my heart,” he said proudly, and Hari couldn’t help but laugh and shake her head,

He was so cute.

“What if it washes off before work tomorrow?” She asked genuinely. Lipstick prints didn’t last that long, right?

“Then you’ll kiss me again, perhaps on the lips this time?” He wiggled his eyebrows, and Hari’s heart skipped a beat at how carefree he was. 

“Of course, of course,” she said honestly, a big smile on her face as she wrapped her arms and legs around him. “What color?”

“Red.” 

And, as promised, Kang Taemoo walked into GoFood the next day proudly, with a red lipstick kiss mark on his right cheek.

i’ve heard every album, listened to the radio

waited for something to come along

that was as good as our song

notes: swifties my loves pls dont come for me for using a wildest dream lyric as the title for an our song songfic 🥲

[danganronpa-21]

General Warnings: N/A

Fandoms: Danganronpa

Relationships: Kirigiri Kyoko/Naegi Makoto

Additional Tags: Domestic Fluff, Family Life, Kisses, Post-Danganronpa 3 Hope Arc

Chapter Word Count: 2,191 words

Summary: Makoto hits snooze on his alarm at just the wrong time, and now he's late for work. He's almost out the door when, all of a sudden, he realizes that he's forgotten the most important thing of all!

It’s never pleasant to begin your day with a string of swear words.

 It’s particularly unpleasant if your name is Makoto Naegi and you are unaccustomed to cursing in any great capacity, because when you are cursing in any great capacity, it usually means one of two things:

1.      You have seriously broken or injured some part of your body, and you are probably in somewhat dire need of medical attention.

2.      You are running late when you have somewhere very important to be.

 This time around, there can be no doubt that the scenario is the latter, and the very important place he’s supposed to be is school. Not just as a student, either, but as a headmaster. It might not have seemed like much to be late to some, but not everybody would understand that the name Hope’s Peak has something in its making. For whatever reason, no matter how Makoto changes the school’s policies, there remains a simple problem: the students are full of potential, yet also full of chaos. Just missing a few hours could mean leaving Byakuya in charge of a large disaster, likely something with a flooded hallway and paper clips, and that just wasn’t fair to his friend. It wasn’t his fault that Makoto has a bad habit of hitting snooze even when he shouldn’t.

 Honestly, apart from the whole hitting snooze thing, his wife doesn’t seem to think it’s his fault, either. In fact, she’s quick to blame herself for not realizing what time it became, as if she has not been on maternity leave for the past three months and is not positively exhausted from baby care.

 “I’m sorry, Makoto, I should have said something.”

 She is talking to him, but her half-lidded eyes are fixed on the baby monitor in her hands. Between the two of them, she is definitely the more paranoid parent – every time she wakes up, she has to pick it up to make sure that Hope is still sleeping safely. With the lives the two of them have lived, he can’t say he blames her. He knows that even if she isn’t locked directly onto him and his problems, she is listening and she genuinely is sorry, which breaks his heart a little. She’s so sweet to want to help him.

 “Not your fault.” he mutters as he untangles himself from the sheets. They seem reluctant to release him from their grasp, like a monster swirling its tongue around his leg. “You’re as tired as I am with Hope around. Maybe even more, considering I can’t breastfeed.”

 Any other time, she might have chuckled at the comment. Now, however, she is silent.

“If only I had awoken sooner.”

 Oh, how he longs to climb over to her side of the bed and squeeze her in a hug and kiss her head. There is no reason for her to blame herself for something that was an accident – an accident on his part alone, no less – but he’s so lacking in time that he can’t even stop to tell her that properly. All he can do is offer some words of comfort as he rifles through his drawers, looking for a clean button-down and tie.

 “You were due to get a full three hours of sleep, Kyoko. It was your turn last time, so don’t even worry about it. How were you supposed to know that your husband is a doofus who likes to hit snooze a little too much?”

 Though he does not see the change in her face, he can hear the amused exhale through her nose. It’s not enough to fix her guilt, he knows, but the sound is some small solace.

 “I should know this because this is not the first time that you’ve done it. Not even close to being the fifth or the eighth time you’ve done it, either.”

 He shrugs his shoulders, forcing out a laugh. Even if this situation is leaning towards not being the best, the least he can do is try to comfort Kyoko about it. That’s one thing he will never tire of doing for her. Just giving off an aura of amusement, no matter how sincere, can make a world of difference. That’s something he’s learned with time.

 As he yanks out his shirt and tie, he’s quick to wander to the closet next, snatching up the nearest available suit… Only to realize that the nearest available suit is Kyoko’s, and that he’s not prepared to make a fashion statement today. He eagerly puts it back on the rack and keeps sifting with rapid swipes of the fingers, until finally he settles on a navy-blue suit. Good enough, he thinks, even if it is a lot of blue when paired with his robin’s egg tie. It works for now.

 “Is there anything I can do to help you get ready, Makoto?” Kyoko asks sweetly, flipping the covers off her body, “Maybe I could make you some breakfast?”

 Oh, god no. Kyoko Kirigiri is undoubtedly the love of Makoto’s life, and he would do anything for her, but her cooking tastes is prone to tasting a bit like a mix of a dirt and ashes. She overcooks everything and mixes strange spices, and there has been more than one occasion where the smell alone had been enough to make him pass on it. The offer makes his heart melt, but the idea of her cooking has his mind screaming no thanks.

 “I-I’m thinking I’ll skip breakfast, a-actually!” he says as his throws his clothes down on the bed. “If you could check in on Hope while I have a shower, though, t-that would be great!”

 Kyoko’s lips press together in annoyance, knowing exactly what he’s trying to avoid, but she is kind enough to keep from saying anything. Instead, she simply nods and leaves him to go about his business… but not without sticking her tongue out at him mockingly first. They are both able to snicker at how much he probably deserves that.

__________________________________________

   Speaking of what he deserves, Makoto might deserve a world record for the fastest shower ever taken by anyone after today.

 Seriously. Apart of him is wondering if he even is clean after how quickly he washed. Does it really matter now? The point is that he got it done. Now he just has to focus on making a lunch, grabbing something quick to fill his stomach on the walk/run over, and maybe calling Byakuya to tell him to just keep holding out until he can get there. Thankfully, he made it easier on himself last night by not having a second helping of dinner. At least he’s left himself some leftovers to pile into a bento box.

 Still, guilt swirls within him as he hears Hope fussing in the other room. Sometime during his shower she woke up from her sleep, and ever since had been loudly and angrily demanding something. What that something is, he doesn’t know, but his lateness has forced poor Kyoko to try and figure it out. He feels a bit like a rotten husband, not helping out more. Some men are proud to say they never handle the baby stuff, but not Makoto. If he had it his way, he honestly might stay home with his girls instead. Alas, however, Hope’s Peak needed him, and he isn’t the type of man who is willing to turn his back on his students, either.

 “Are you okay in there, Kyoko?” he calls as he shovels omurice into one of the compartments, quickly moving to squirt ketchup in the other so he doesn’t forget. “Do you need me to do anything?”

 Hope wails louder, as if to tell her father that she is being horrendously tortured in there. She’s not, and Makoto knows she’s not, but it’s still hard to listen to his baby cry. If anything, she’s probably just hungry and has not appreciated the attempts at cuddles and diaper changes. There are only so many times that they can get her requests right on the first try. As much as he relishes these years where she’s small and cute, he’s sure it will be much easier on him and Kyoko when she is able to use her words to tell them what she wants.

 “I’m fine, just worry about yourself,” she shoots back, her typically smooth quivering with frustration as she shuffles around in there to do something he can’t quite make out, “I’m just trying to see if Hope will latch.”

 Hm. It’s a bit early for her to be hungry, but he supposes that he shouldn’t question it too much. Though they as parents have a rigid schedule in mind for when they should be feeding her, Hope might think completely differently. Maybe she burned through all of her milk from before already. She is a sponge for information after all, just as all babies are. It is entirely possible that she may have used it as more fuel for growth than they anticipated.

 “Good call.” He reaches for another container of leftovers, this time prying open the Tupperware for a go at the vegetables. As headmaster, he has to have vegetables. Healthy lunches are expected to set an example for the students. “Thanks for taking care of her. You’re such a good mom to her.”

 Though Hope chooses this moment to squawk, possibly defiantly, he decides to believe that she is actually agreeing with him. She’s just too busy complaining that she’s hungry to notice that her mother is trying to fulfilled her need. If it perturbs Kyoko to be complimented while her child is wriggling and fussing, she does not show it in her reply. Instead, he can hear the amusement in her voice as she replies: “How about you just focus on getting yourself ready for work, instead of going out of your way to be kind?”

 Makoto can’t help but laugh as he finishes piling in the vegetables, snapping his box closed. It’s not the most original lunch, but it will satisfy. That’s all he needs it to do, especially with his decision to skip breakfast… he almost feels bad for telling Kyoko that she couldn’t feed him.

 “Alright, but I just want to remind you that it’s true,” he snickers, “And I want you to keep that in mind before I go running off to work. I’m really grateful for you!”

 “Just get ready, Makoto!” she laughs. There’s no way of telling, but Makoto likes to think that her parents’ ease is what makes Hope finally settle and start to suckle.

 Throwing his lunchbox into his bag and sweeping one last pile of paperwork into his briefcase, Makoto finds himself at the door of the house lacing up his dress shoes. With the complaining of their daughter now settled into the occasional happy chirp as she eats, the house feels almost peaceful. If he stops for a moment, he can almost forget that he is running dangerously late for school. Then he sees just a bit too much sun streaming in through the window, and remembers that he has got places to be. With one last tightening of his laces and a slinging of his bag over his shoulder, he calls out to Kyoko:

 “Alright, honey, I’m off. Have a good day, I love you!”

 “Thank you, I hope you have a good day and good luck! I love you as well!”

 Makoto lets out one final sigh as he pries the door open, struck by the sunlight and the warm spring breeze the second it meets his skin. It’s another one of those times where, if the situation permitted, he might have taken the time to enjoy his walk to school. However, it was not, and so he is forced to press forth with as much speed as he can muster. The door is almost fully closed behind him when suddenly, his stomach drops.

 How could he manage to forget the most important thing of all?

 Forget lateness! There’s no excuse for this!

 The door can’t even find the time to click closed before he whips it open again, tossing his briefcase down on the bench in the foyer. Kyoko’s voice rings through the room as he re-enters, but he can’t quite make out what she’s saying. He can only make out her expression, brows furrowed and lips pressed into a straight line, as he speed-walks towards her.

 “Forgot to kiss you good-bye,” he explains, leaning down to offer him her lips.

 Kyoko can do little else but laugh at him and accept. The kiss is soft and warm, but quick, and Makoto has to fight to avoid going back for more. Timing-wise, he probably shouldn’t, but if he had the time, he absolutely would.

 “Kiss your daughter before you go, too,” Kyoko reminds him as he pulls back, and smiles as she notices that he is already dipping his head down again to plant one on the babe’s fuzzy little head.

 “Of course. Both my girls need to know how much I love them.”

 She shakes her head, still smiling. “We do, believe me. We do.”

[halorocks1214]

there’s a lot to be said about dream, and both sides (fans and critics alike) have made very valid points about him and his tenure into internet fame. he tends to be brash and his lack of filter gets him into more trouble than anyone enjoys, but he’s also just a dude and a good friend trying do his best to make people’s day a little bit brighter. i know i share my fair amount of both positive and negative things to say (not the biggest fan of how he handles mcc, but in other areas of content he’s really chill and fun to listen to)

now that i’ve branched off into non-dsmp spaces (which are wonderful and full of great people don’t get me wrong) i’ve got to say: the critics feel like they’ve become the stans but worse

the twt stans? yeah, most people agree they suck. tumblr stans agree they suck. if i pick a random mcytblr blog and ask them “do you think twitter sucks” i have a high chance of getting back “yeah twitter definitely sucks”

but if you take twitter out of the equation, we have places like tumblr and reddit that are rife with critics. hell, if we put twitter back in we even have the over-the-top antis that think its okay to send death threats to dream/dsmp fans. and unlike the twt stans, they are free from criticism because idk, its dream i guess? 

the stans are rightfully laughed at for being ridiculous, but the critics seem to be allowed to run amuck and say whatever they want. i’ll see an opinion thrown out there that’s easily disproven, but anyone who dares to try and point that out is lambasted as an “annoying stan” and that “dream isn’t free from criticism”

this includes dsmp blogs. half the time i’ll find a one that has a little asterisk on stuff that screams “WE LIKE THESE PEOPLE BUT WE DON’T LIKE DREAM DON’T WORRY WE’RE THE SAFE ONES” even though literally everyone on that server is his friend and talks positively about him

it is overwhelming. some kind of ego check needs to happen /lh, because i’ve found certain non-dsmp blogs to be just as insufferable and unbelievable as the twitter stans themselves. and it’s fostering a mindset that’s uncomfortable at best. here’s a post i found while looking at cute allay stuff:

do you think this post is sarcastic? nope, it’s legitimate. this feels like that one twitter user that dug up a grave to use the bones to “put a curse” on kaceytron except that the energy is coming from an anti. and it’s frustrating, because instead of having genuine criticisms of dream being taken into account, we have people throwing baseless accusations out there which leads to no growth and more hostility from everyone

listen, i get it. i really do. even i find it annoying how much hc stuff is just dsmp crossovers. it sucks, and you have every right to say you hate dsmp and how you don’t want the fans in your spaces because you find them that annoying /gen

but then you can’t wonder why non-dsmp fandoms are so small in number and complain about how dsmp is "too popular”. if you constantly shit on mostly harmless people who also enjoy blockmen like yourself, then they’re going to stay in the lane they know they are welcomed in. you get more flies with honey or whatever

dream is apart of this community. even if it hurts to admit, mcyt is so often considered a synonym to dream because he sparked an insurgence of mcyt content. yes, the captain has been here for a long time, the hermits have been here for a long time, achievement hunter has been going strong for nearly a decade now, and people should respect that, but it’s unfair to deny that dream added a flare that allowed many others (yes, even your faves) to expand the genre in new and exciting ways

you are not free from your own biases. please remember that

[emily-the-fae]

Every Day is a Lullaby

A oneshot. This honestly came to my mind yesterday night, I do not know how well the idea turned out to be.

Fandom: Supernatural

Pairing: Arthur Ketch x OC

Warnings:probably language, blood, injury, background character death, brief mentions of sex, angst mith mix of fluff

Rated: T

Mr Ketch has many sides, likable and repulsing - but which one of his faces is truly his is sometimes an uncertainty even for him.

Harper reflects on the changes on their relationship as they get out of a hunt gone wrong. While Ketch reconsiders some of his past choices... And reasons why he is still alive.

If he's a serial killer

Then what's the worst

That can happen to a girl

Who's already hurt

I'm already hurt

The first time Harper met him was a coincidence. It was long before the whole nephilim thing, long before she found out what kind of man he was, what kind of hunter he was. Yet even back then in the span of their first couple of meetings  she felt he was no good.

A stupid hunting coincidence.

Harper was not used to hunting alone. She did that to herself - separated herself from the Winchesters. However much she loved Sam and Dean, she could not bear continuously being around them, not after everything that happened. Not after Charlie. Because no matter what Dean said or how Sam reassured her - it was her fault. Charlie was a great friend. Charlie had the brightest soul. Harper was late to help her and now Charlie was no more. It was all Harper's fault.

Driving away and going head first into hunting was the outmost Winchester way of dealing with the guilt and grief. Hunting alone while slowly coming out of her lowest phase - those were the circumstances under which Harper met Arthur Ketch.

The first time it happened it was a coincidence - two hunters choosing the same target is not uncommon. Harper was already on spot and all in the fight when he arrived. "Are you insane going into a whole vampire nest alone?" - those were the first words she ever heard from him. She might have been slightly insane, but he sure was a damn psycho. To be honest if not for him she would have probably ended up dead or turned in that vampire nest that night. Harper hates being honest about it.

The second coincidence happened just a few days after the first one - she would later on doubt if it was a coincidence at all. Perhaps it was. Harper would never really know - what she did know though was that he still had a small scar left above his left eyebrow - a mark of where she hit him with the grip of her gun, thinking it was the witch that was creeping up to her and absolutely not expecting to hear a male voice swearing after her blow. Arthur had not known her for 24 hours in sum and they were already making a scene after a hunt - Harper almost pitied she had not knocked him out straight away.

What happened on the next day? He caught her in the town and suggested to team up to avoid "future confusions". Rule number one how to become friends with Arthur Ketch: hit him in the face. Harper wasn't going to become friends with him - with any hunters for that matter - but fate seldom cared what Harper was going to do anyways.

Harper definitely lied to herself when she said that they were going to be only friends or that she was going to hate him after all the British Men of Letters invasion story. She didn't. Not with the way they met in the first place: him ripping her out of the claws of the angry remnants of the vampire pack - slightly concerned greyish blue eyes and a British accent was what greeted her at dawn that day, even though mid in fight she had accepted she would not see the sun again. It seemed symbolic how he saved her from giving up, from herself. And certainly not after the way their relationship went from mutual curiosity to blind semi-professional trust. Harper did not need a "friend" to console her: if she had wanted that she would have stayed around Sam - she needed someone unfeeling but understanding enough to see through her and consciously let it be.

She remembered it clearly - three hunts into their relationship - a month after their first encounter - they were sharing a hotel room. Two beds, late night after a hunt, she lied on her side and quietly cried. It was a demon hunt. The memories were too much. Arthur came into view and stared at her for a couple of moments before walking to his own bed.

- I'd say you can talk about it when you want to, but I doubt you will ever feel the necessity, - a brief caress of his hand against her shoulder. He did not try to relieve her, he allowed her to get to her own way of coping. For that Harper was grateful more than ever. - We all have skeletons in our closets, it's the downturn of the job.

Oh, dear Arthur, we are both now  aware you knew far too well what you were talking about. Harper doubted any hunter had a closet cemetery as large as Ketch's.

Yet... Even after that - the awkward reuniting with the Winchesters, being pulled away from him as she came back to her old friends and witnessing, luckily from a safe distance, how the man she grew to trust without actually knowing him, uncovered darker and darker sides of his personality. What was worst - after she refused to join the BMoL, he would continue to sometimes keep her hunting company, going on like nothing happened. Like nothing changed. Why worst? It let the image of the heartless killer that she should have seen before her now connect and combine with the image of the man who would patch her up on her darkest nights and put a firm hand on her shoulder when Harper was too deep in memory to restrain herself. His presence around her became a reassurance in itself - because he did not have to know to understand. And because he simply had not been there - looking into his eyes Harper wouldn't get reminded of the times when everything was still right, wouldn't get reminded of that one time everything went very wrong. Probably those were the main qualities that helped him win a spot in her heart. Those and his unending casual flirting.

And now? After everything was over, after his very dark side was revealed, the confessions were made and the redemption was played, what did she think of him? The hunter, turned out just a very well trained assassin - he had served the British Men of Letters, he had served Asmodeus - now here he was separated from any commanding he ever had, living a hunting life of his own and sometimes collaborating with the Winchesters. Therewere many dark moments forgotten for the sake of peace. Many more had yet to come up - judging by how Ketch treated his own history and interests of others.

" - I wonder where Mick went, he was always so nice... Nicer than you, anyways. Pity he went away all of a sudden, - Harper mentioned once after a hunt.

- He did not go anywhere. I shot him in the head just like Hess ordered, - Ketch seemed calm and cold as steel. " Sometimes Harper thought that leaving BMoL would change him, but moments like that she realized how slowly the changes - if any - would have to occur. That night she simply walked away, not saying another word.

If anyone ever asked Harper how Arthur's spot in her heart had shifted after all the mess he had caused? She would say that he never even had one... And think that truth to be told there was no flame hot enough to burn him out of her chest - his name carved on her ribs would have been easier to get rid of than the bittersweet affection she harboured for the moral wreck of a man named Arthur Ketch.

If he's as bad as they say

Then I guess I'm cursed

Looking into his eyes

I think he's already hurt

He's already hurt

Despite that Harper never dared pursue a relationship. Why? She was very sure with people like Ketch the only right strategy was not to expect them to be capable of attachment. The flirting, the sweet promising looks he would give her after a well-accomplished hunt... Harper would dream of believing them to be genuine. She was very well aware thinking him in any way genuine was a risk she was not ready to take. She knew Ketch would not mind letting that affair happen - he made that quite clear. She also knew it would mean absolutely nothing to him apart from some company and a warm body in his bed. Arthur Ketch was cold, unemotional and taught himself well not to get attached to anyone - and even if that was not true, he tried his damn best to make it seem so.

Harper sometimes hoped she saw it in his eyes: a silent "please keep safe" when they would part after a hunt, a sparking "I missed you" when they would meet once again. Arthur sometimes hoped she would see it too - very deep in his soul, deeper than he would ever be able to admit even to himself.

In other words, the outcome of the new hunt would have presented itself sooner or later anyways. They were actually quite lucky to have it present itself the way it did.

The werewolf did not seem such a hard target - away from bigger packs, alone terrorizing the neighborhood - just because he could. Problem and solution crystal clear - a hunt where one clearly sees the root of evil is a blessing for a hunter that's used to all the versions of heartbreaking stories. What Harper did not so clearly see was the gun in their opponent's hands. To be more precise: she did see it, but a little too late.

Two gunshots rang at the same time: her silver bullet hitting right into the monster's heart and his normal one - ... Ketch fell against the wall, sliding down to the floor: his left shoulder bled, the bulletproof vest, even though being pierced in the thinner area, had preserved him from being too deeply injured - but not kept completely safe from wounding.

Several seconds of silence - making sure the werewolf is not a threat anymore - realisation and fear finally hitting Harper.

- Ketch?... Ketch?!... Arthur! - the hunter was too disoriented to answer and his silence was taken as a bad sign. - Oh Lord, Arthur, no! - gone are the self-restraint and professional coldness: the moment she sees blood on his chest, she rushes to his side, forgetting about everything else in the world. She needs to make sure he will be fine. He has to be. - Arthur, please, don't die on me! Arthur! - she calls for his attention, the hunter slowly regaining his senses.

For a moment there he believes he hears Tony. This reminds him of some of his unlucky hunts from the years before, though back then he had certainly had it worse. Besides this definitely was not Tony.

Tony would have said "Ketch's down" and carry on with the hunt, eyes on the target, and when the deed was done she would pass him with a short "How is it?" - more out of politeness than genuine caring. That was exactly what she did the only two times he had been seriously injured infront of her.

- Ketch, answer me right this instant, don't you dare fading out! - panic in her voice, genuine. The idea of someone caring as much as to panic at the thought of his death seems too good to be true - for him at least. Arthur feels hands investigating his chest, checking for the wound: cold thin fingers running over his blood-covered skin. Not Tony - Harper.

- I'll live, darling, it's nothing too serious, - attempting to sound confident, but his voice is rasp. It's nothing serious, but it hurt nonetheless: the blow on the shoulder was much harder than anticipated and the bleeding needed to be stopped.

Harper looks into the light blue, borderline grey eyes - he is staring up at her, his gaze unguarded only for a moment that lets her see the uncommon softness and hope in his expression - just for a moment - she believes the things she guessed about him were true, she believes the pain visible in his eyes is true, only by accident revealed to her. The state lasts only a couple of moments - but even that is more than enough for his visible emotions to imprint into her mind.

Arthur Ketch was able to feel. Arthur Ketch could be in pain. Arthur Ketch was capable of needing help.

I said "Don't be a jerk, don't call me a taxi"

Sitting in your sweatshirt, crying in the backseat ooh-ooh

I just wanna dance with you

Hollywood and Vine, Black Rabbit in the alley

I just wanna hold you tight down the avenue ooh

I just wanna dance with you

It was a wonder that the hotel clerk did not stop them on their way - Ketch looked positively dying - Harper was quite sure there was no legal thing that could have happened to him that would have explained this appearance. This was the reason normal hunters chose motels: less suspicion. Harper briefly wondered where he got the money to maintain his former lifestyle, since he was stripped of the BMoL funding, but she guessed there were other sources on his side and he was just too stubborn to change his ways.

When they stumbled into his hotel room, Arthur made a move to drop himself on the bed, but Harper grabbed him by the collar swiftly, dragging him away in the other direction.

- Ketch don't you dare stain the sheets, they'll report us, - she mumbled, pushing him to enter the bathroom and dropping him to sit on the edge of the tub.

He would have laughed if the sudden movement had not caused sharp pain to shoot through his damaged shoulder, making him wince. Alexandra. He had wondered for so long whom Harper reminded him of and out of all moments they shared it was this that made him realise. The memory reappeared in his mind so vividly now.

"Artie, no! Don't go to your room, you'll stain your carpet! Mum will kill us!" - and the older girl held him under his arms, guiding him to the kitchen.

He still remembered it: the years before school, before Kendricks, him and his sister mostly alone in the house with parents constantly away. Alexandra had brought him up before Kendricks had. Alexandra had a lovely voice, she would read him bedtime stories, she would sing to him, she was kind and caring - probably the only human being in his life that ever seemed to care. When he went to Kendricks was the last time he had ever seen her... Well, alive. Alexandra was kind and caring - and that was probably the reason why she had not made it through the training. In fact her death might have been the only reason why he survived and made it to the top - having no one care about you has a benefit: you don't have to care about anyone too.

After his sister's funeral life had never felt the same and Arthur had been quite certain before that it was for the better. Now, watching Harper rush about, trying to find the medical kit to help him, he thought that he had been terribly wrong all the damn time.

How long has she known him? A couple of years, not more, but the relationship between them reached beyond the borders of friendship or companionship. That little american hunter - the first time he saw her he thought she was suicidal, the second one - bold and full of sass. The following months proved her well capable of combining both while turning out to be so much more, one of which being: to be able to love Arthur Ketch. Of course he knew she loved him - this was among those traits in her that he openly treated with polite contempt and deep down envied more than anything.

He watched Harper come to his side, sliding his hunting gear off his shoulders - her movements so gentle, her eyes filled with worry and guilt.

- I'm so sorry Arthur, I should have... - you're always sorry. You always think it is your fault and none else's. This was most probably the main reason why it was so easy for him to openly reject her feeling: they both knew she loved him, they both knew he saw it, he toyed with her so many times, being suggestive, flirting. "As long as I enjoy the physical aspects of having an affair, the emotional attachment that other people believe necessary to form is rather pathetic" - he told her once. He actually said that, those were his words. I would like to fuck you as long as you shut your disgustingly human little heart. She stared at him for a moment, her beautiful face almost successfully hiding the hurt - then turned away silently, shrugging her shoulders. He was being a jerk. Harper never stopped him from that, Harper seemed to take it all in and believe he was right, believe that her feeling for him was utterly pathetic. That it was her fault.

- It was no one's mistake, love, it was an unlucky accident. Besides it didn't turn out that awful, - he trailed off. She was cleaning his skin over the wound now, preparing to apply stitches. Arthur could sense a little shudder in her at the word "love". He was so used to saying it that he forgot about all the connotations it held. Lord, was he bad at this.

Harper continued her work silently. She felt him studying her face and prayed to be finished as quick as possible - she did not need another heartbreaking hope and she had already made the mistake of looking into his eyes that night. When the last stitch was done, she turned away to put the materials aside and sensed him straighten up behind her back - Harper felt he wanted to say something else, but she could not give him that opportunity. She almost thought he would die that night - seeing him on the floor made her blood run cold - she did not need any more pain to add to the aftermath of the shock.

- I'm going to my room, but please call me if you feel worse during the night, - she spoke, not turning to face him, ready to walk out of the bathroom. Harper felt his hand grab her wrist in a rushed movement and turned abruptly only to see him staring back at her with unguarded softness in his eyes. The only time she remembered Arthur look at her like that was when she twisted an ankle during the hunt all due to his mistake. It scared her a little to see that expression on him.

- Why won't you just stay to keep an eye on me? - his voice low, with an undertone she so often heard when he flirted with her.

- You're a big boy, Ketch, we both know that even stitching you up was superfluous, you can perfectly well tend to yourself, - a smile. Harper tried to brush it off jokingly, ready to make her leave, but his grasp on her wrist only grew stronger.

- Stay.  At least for this night. Please, - the smile disappeared from her face. He sounded wounded, he sounded like he really pleaded. Harper broke away from his grasp, taking a step back.

- You don't need a... - she shook her head.

- But I do, - he stood up, taking a step towards her, not letting her increase the distance between them. His fingers came up to caress her cheek gently. - Harper, stay, - she shut her eyes, standing still and quiet for a couple of seconds, seemingly fighting back emotions.

- You don't mean this, - she said, looking up at him sharply and confidently, but in a moment, failing to restrain herself, she continues more quietly and softly. - Why do you have to be so cruel to me? - he could see tears brimming in her eyes.

They stood frozen in front of each other, her face so close to his, her eyes watering - not because of this particular evening, but because of all those times before he had behaved in similar nature. It was the first time she had so directly addressed the issue of her feelings for him. "Why do you have to be so cruel to me?" She seemed to be waiting for an actual answer. Why was she always so kind to him? Like he was normal, like he didn't hurt her? Arthur leaned down, his hand still cupping her cheek, his lips touching hers gently and firmly.

Harper closed her eyes - not as a girl would do in a pretty romantic movie - she shut her eyes, pressing her eyelids together, holding her breath, shuddering. A single tear ran down her cheek.

When they parted, though his face still stayed just a few centimeters away from hers, Harper opened her eyes again, her breath shaking.

- Arthur...

His free hand circled her waist, pulling her closer to him, as his fingers slid away from her cheek,  moving behind her head, running through her hair. Arthur leaned close to her ear, his breath ghosting over her neck.

- Because I hate how you make me feel like I can still have a life, like not everything is lost. I hate how you make me feel worth being cared about and able to care. I hate how you make me feel, - he said that rushed and quiet. Pressing his front to the side of her head, breathing deeply.

- And what if you are lying? What if this all is for the sake of one night? I'm tired of guessing if you have a soul or not, Arthur, I'm too worn out, - she wispered after some time, leaning her forehead into his uninjured shoulder.

- Then trust me this one time. I promise. Please.

- Why?

- Because I need you. I need you to feel alive.

Arthur felt her let out a deep breath, her petite form pressing itself to his, her arms sliding behind his back to hold him close. She raised her head, freezing for a moment before their eyes met, then leaning up - their lips meeting now less gingerly than the first time.

- Does that mean you'll stay?

- You're such an asshole, Ketch...

- I know.

Harper hid her face in his chest, sobbing quietly, her form shacking, worn out both physically and emotionally. Arthur kissed her temple softly, caressing her back, for once feeling like he did everything right. For once feeling like they had a chance.

Happiness is a butterfly

Try to catch it like every night

It's escaping from me into moonlight

[vannahfanfics]

Raincheck

Category: Angst, Drama, Romantic Fluff

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Characters: Hitoshi Shinso, Ochako Uraraka

Hello everyone! This is my story for the @shinsoubigbang​! When you get a chance, also check out my partner's artwork; they did an amazing job illustrating a scene from the story. :)

The wind tugged at Hitoshi’s lavender locks and whipped at the capture weapon around his neck as he perched on the edge of the rooftop. He hunched like a gargoyle as he carefully surveyed the sprawling mess of back alleys below his sneakers. Crime always festered in dark places, especially on cloudy, moonless nights like these. Hitoshi could almost hear the whispers of malcontent and mischief rising with the wisps of fog. His instincts were buzzing, tingling just beneath his skin, indicating that his hunt for criminals would soon bear fruit. 

His lilac-hued eyes snapped to the side as the air suddenly rang with the rhythmic clacking of heels. A young woman in a waitress’ garb quickly strode down a cobblestoned back road. She clutched her purse tight to her chest and feverishly looked to her left and right. Despite her vigorous attempts, her caution did not avail her. Hitoshi watched a shadow slink out from behind a dumpster. A knife glinted in the dark as its blade caught the dull yellow light spilling from the nearby streetlamp. The shadowy figure crept up behind the unsuspecting woman, reaching for her brunette hair bunched in a bun— 

and that’s when Hitoshi swung down in a dark fury, his capture weapon wrapping tightly around the man’s wrist. The woman screamed and stumbled into the wall as the hero wedged himself between her and her would-be assailant. The mugger cursed and tugged violently against his bindings, but he could not best the hard-earned muscles of Hitoshi’s arms, which flexed as he drew the capture weapon so tight that it ceased the man’s blood flow and forced his fingers apart. The knife clattered to the ground, useless, and the startled thief met Shinso’s cool, cold purple eyes. 

“Someone taught you the wrong way to pick up women, mate,” Hitoshi tsked while wagging his finger scoldingly. The mugger’s face turned an ugly red-purple hue, and he vehemently resumed clawing and yanking at the capture weapon. 

“You motherfucker! I’m gonna—” He wasn’t going to do anything, actually, which he realized when his jaw slackened and his eyes clouded over as Hitoshi’s Quirk washed over him. 

“Do me a favor and stop struggling, will you?” Hitoshi tutted. The man obediently lowered his arm, standing still as a statue as Hitoshi loosened the bindings and looped them back around his neck. The hero returned his attention to the young woman, who was still pale-faced and hugging the dirty brick wall while staring at the mugger in horror. 

“He… He won’t do anything?” she squeaked as Shinso abandoned him to walk over to her. 

“Him?” he asked with a jab of his thumb. “Nah,” he reassured with a wily smirk. “He’s completely under the control of my Quirk. He won’t do anything I don’t put in his empty head. Now, miss, are you hurt?” Still gawking apprehensively at her attacker, she slowly shook her head. To Hitoshi’s relief, however, her rigid body slowly relaxed, and she turned to look at him. 

“Thank you for saving me… I should have known better than to use this shortcut, but it’s my daughter’s birthday party and I wanted to hurry home after my shift since I couldn’t get off for her party…”

“I’m sorry you had to miss it,” Hitoshi said genuinely. “It’s dangerous around here, though. I’ll call in a police escort to get you home safely in addition to handing over this guy if you don’t mind waiting a little longer, okay?” Though she probably didn’t want to waste any more time, the near-catastrophe rattled her thoroughly enough to comply. Hitoshi walked out of the side street onto the sidewalk flanking the main road. After phoning the police, he paused to open a video message. 

“Hey, ‘Toshi!” Ochako’s bubbly round face dominated the screen, cheeks rosy and brown eyes sparkling as she waved excitedly. “I just got back from my P.R. trip to America. You wouldn’t believe all the amazing things I saw! We should get together for lunch tomorrow so I can tell you all about it. I’m sure you’re on patrol right now and will be until morning,” she said, leaning back in the camera frame, and he could see that she was dressed in a pair of fluffy white pajamas printed with green aliens in spacesuits. It made him chuckle; she always had adored silly pajamas like that. “I’ve got a bit of jet lag so I’ll be awake for a while, so call me when you get off, okay? Bye-bye now!” she chirped while waving before the video cut off. 

Hitoshi stared at the frozen image of Ochako’s big bright smile, a soft one forming on his own lips. After he’d joined Class A in U.A.’s Hero Course, he’d become fast friends with all of them. However, to everyone’s surprise including his own, he’d gravitated the most to Ochako. She was just so bubbly and bright, the perfect counterpart to his subdued and relaxed personality. He found her endless optimism and drive refreshing, so much so that they still kept up with one another even after graduation. 

His big fat crush on her might have had a little to do with that, though. 

Hitoshi waited impatiently for the police with the waitress. He asked her questions about her daughter, and though she eagerly embraced the small talk to ease her nerves, Hitoshi really just let her responses go in one ear and out the other. He was too busy mentally configuring his schedule, trying to figure out the soonest he could call Ochako. In the end his impatience got the best of him, as he ended up calling her number as the police officers were loading the suspect into the back of the squad car and the other was taking a report from his would-be victim. 

“Wow, that was fast.”

Hitoshi smiled at her cheery voice buzzing on the other end of the line. He leaned against the hood of the patrol car and slid one of his hands into his pants pockets. 

“I just happened to have a break,” he shrugged. “I wanted to call and see how you were settling in after your trip.” 

“I’ve only been gone two weeks, but it still feels kind of weird to be back!” she giggled. He could envision her grabbing one of her fluffy pillows— probably the big sun plushie wearing sunshades— as she reclined against her headboard. “America was incredible! I can totally see how it was the birthplace of heroes. I can’t wait to tell you all about it, ‘Toshi.” 

“Are you sure you can wait until tomorrow?” he joked. In the background, he could hear the police radio crackling about a carjacking and a high-speed chase through town. As the sirens began to wail and red-and-blue lights painted the dark night sky, Hitoshi straightened up and looked around with narrowed eyes. “Hey, Ochako, hold on a minute. I think—” 

He never got time to finish the sentence. 

Everything was a blur as the car came careening down the street, followed closely by a police cruiser. The air filled with squealing tires and burning rubber as the police car braked harshly, but the carjacker had no care to do so, instead opting to plow right through the two police cars parked in the middle of the road in his effort to get away. One of the police officers managed to tackle the waitress into the safety of the alleyway, while the other was bowled over by the criminal, who was attempting to use the chaos to escape, even though he was handcuffed. 

Hitoshi was not so lucky. As the car zoomed past the cruiser, crunching the metal with a sickening sound, it glanced him. Even being glanced by a car going over one hundred miles an hour was enough to send Hitoshi flying back into the alleyway. His phone was slung from his hand as he crashed against the rough ground; he released a strangled gasp as he felt several of his bones snap. As he rolled down the alley, the back of his head smacked against the cobblestone. A white rush flooded through him from head to toe, filling his brain with cotton and his ears with a persistent ring. When he finally came to a rest on his back in a mangled mess of limbs, he was staring uncomprehendingly at the sky, blood leaking out of his lips. 

Dimly, he could hear Ochako’s voice echoing through the alleyway. He’d somehow managed to turn the phone on speaker. 

“‘Toshi? What happened? ‘Toshi? Hitoshi?!” 

The sirens continued wailing. The blue-and-red lights flashed around him like the stars falling to earth. He could feel blood leaking out from the back of his head, coating his lavender hair in thick, sticky globs. The woman was screaming and crying, while the police officers were shouting into their radios for an ambulance. As the darkness encroached on the edges of Hitoshi’s vision, he hung onto Ochako’s frantically screeching voice like a lifeline. 

He had to live. He had to live. He was going to meet her for lunch tomorrow…

~~~~~~~~~~

It began with a dull pounding ache. It thundered at the base of his skull, rising in intensity with each inch he crawled towards consciousness. The persistent pain made him want to drift back into the sweet embrace of sleep, but unfortunately the ache prevented it. He groaned lowly, lolling his head from side-to-side and hitting the hard plastic of the neck brace hugging his throat. His purple lashes fluttered open, and his eyes were greeted with bright, burning white. 

He blinked slowly, uncomprehendingly, at the nondescript white tiles above him. He could hear a heart monitor blinking steadily beside him. He could feel a thin hospital gown rubbing against his bruised skin, the casts wrapping his right arm and leg to immobilize them, and the bandage covering his swollen right eye. He was in a hospital, clearly, but what had landed him there in such a deplorable state? 

As he tried to remember, there was nothing. Emptiness. A blank slate. 

He furrowed his eyebrows in mild panic. Now that he thought about it, he couldn’t summon up memories about much of anything. He knew his name— Hitoshi Shinso— but that was it. As he shifted on the bed, breath hitching and his heart rate jumping on the monitor, it alerted the nurses outside. 

“He’s awake!” a nurse called as she bustled in through the doorway. “Hey, hey, it’s all right. You’re safe, in the hospital,” she cooed as she leaned over his bedside. Hitoshi looked at her with wild eyes. “What’s the matter, hun? Are you in pain? Do you need medication?” 

“Don’t remember,” he grumbled. 

“What, honey?” 

“I don’t remember anything…” 

The nurse gasped and straightened up, hand flying to her mouth. She looked nervously at the other nurses crowding the door. As they began to murmur worriedly to one another, the doctor strode in, frowning over Hitoshi’s chart. 

“Doctor, he says he doesn’t remember anything,” the nurse reported in a quiet voice. The professional looked at her before walking to Hitoshi’s side. Hitoshi squirmed uncomfortably under his stern, inquisitive stare. 

“Son, do you know your name?” 

“Hitoshi Shinso.” 

“Do you know how you got here?” 

Hitoshi shook his head as much as the neck brace would allow. “Can you remember anything from the last week?” Another shake of his head. “Last month?” Again, he shook his head. “What do you remember?” 

Hitoshi squeezed his eyes shut as he struggled to summon something, anything, from the recesses of his mind. A few snippets floated up in the sea of emptiness, which served to ease him just a little. “I’m a hero… I graduated from U.A. High School… But I don’t remember going there. I just know I did.” 

“Well,” the doctor sighed as he straightened up, tapping the pages of his chart, “you suffered a basilar skull fracture and an epidural hematoma. We had to puncture your skull to relieve the pressure on your brain, but you still developed a very severe concussion. It seems the head trauma has induced amnesia.” 

Hitoshi’s heart rate skyrocketed, causing the monitor to wail shrilly. 

“Will I get my memory back?” 

“Most likely. It may take some time, however, with an injury like yours. Some of your classmates are here; they’ve been waiting for you to recover from surgery. I can bring them in if you would like. Their presence may help to jump-start the process.” 

Hitoshi nodded robotically, still trying to process the great hole that had suddenly developed in his life. Time seemed to blend together, because the next thing he knew, a green-haired young man was inching into the room with a shaky smile. The doctor probably informed his supposed friends of his amnesia because the freckled boy treaded lightly and carefully— like he was afraid Hitoshi would shatter with one wrong word. 

“Hey, ‘Toshi,” the boy smiled as he pulled up a chair to his bedside. Hitoshi squinted at him. There was something familiar about that quivering smile, nervous twitching, and bright emerald eyes, but that was all. “I’m glad to see it’s okay… It’s me, Deku— er, Izuku Midoriya! Not that you would know that, I guess, considering the amnesia and all… We went to school together, y’know?” 

Hitoshi swallowed, but his mouth was dry so it made it a little difficult. 

“I see,” was all the lavender-haired boy said. At this time, a blond-haired skinny boy with a lightning-shaped streak of black in his bangs bustled in, red-faced and looking like he’d run all the way there. 

“Holy crap, is it true, Deku?” the boy panted, rushing up to grip the back of his chair. Izuku pouted over his shoulder at him. 

“Yeah, Denki… He doesn’t remember anything…” 

“Oh, man,” Denki said while nervously running his hand through his hair. “Ochako’s gonna be devastated…” 

Hitoshi perked up at the name. As soon as it passed Denki’s lips, it sent a jolt of recognition through him. Oddly, aliens and stars and the color pink suddenly came to mind. The two boys immediately noticed his reaction and exchanged hopeful glances. 

“Do you recognize that name?” Izuku asked hopefully. 

“I think so…” Hitoshi said quietly, fisting the scratchy white hospital blanket. “Ochako…” The name seemed to roll off his tongue so perfectly, and it sent a bubbly, happy feeling rising up inside of him. 

“That’s great! She was so worried about you, Hitoshi! It took her forever to get answers out of the first responders, and then she had to handle calling all of us, and then she was really upset when they wouldn’t let her see you because you were in surgery, so she’s been a mess all night—” Izuku babbled, but Hitoshi ignored it as he tried to process the way his heart was fluttering at the hazy image of a sweet round-faced brunette trying to surface in the void of his mind. 

“I think… I think I was in love with her.” 

Izuku stopped mid-sentence, emerald eyes blowing wide. Denki had his hand over his mouth as Hitoshi looked at them in muddled confusion. “Were we dating?” 

“Uh… no,” Denki coughed uncomfortably. Hitoshi’s frown deepened and he looked back down at the blanket. If that was the case, then why did just the mention of her name summon up a sense of deep fondness and happiness within him? “But, uh,” Denki continued, scratching at the side of his face, “we’ve all known you’ve had a crush on her for a long time— everyone but Ochako, that is.” 

“Denki!” Izuku gasped scoldingly, whirling around in his chair. 

“What?! The man’s got amnesia! I gotta help him out, right?” the blond argued defensively. Hitoshi was too busy blushing to listen to their quibbling. So, I do love her… But she doesn’t know. So, did I never tell her? Why not? 

“‘Toshi? Where is he? ‘Toshi! Hitoshi!” 

As she came barging in the room, tears streaming down her ruddy cheeks and brunette hair a mess, he immediately knew why. Even flustered and sobbing and disoriented from lack of sleep, she was the most beautiful creature he’d ever clapped eyes on. Even with no memories, he knew that. She tripped over his IV cord in her effort to scramble to him, face-planting against the tile floor. He jolted up in bed, the heart rate monitor picking up the leap in his heartbeat, but she was so frantic that she immediately recovered and practically threw herself down on the bed beside him. 

“I was so worried!” she sobbed, grabbing at the blankets as her tears rained down on his face and into his lavender hair. “We were— we were on the phone, and, and then, there was this big crash, and then the sirens, and— oh my God, ‘Toshi, you wouldn’t answer me, and no one would tell me anything, and I-I-I— oh, ‘Toshi, I’m so glad you’re alive!” she rambled through her tears before burying her face into his chest. Hitoshi grunted when pain flared across his body as his broken ribs crunched under the assault, but like hell he was going to say anything. Ochako wailed into him, drowning the thin cloth of the gown with tears and snot. As her body wracked and heaved, it jolted Hitoshi a little, but he gritted his teeth through the little stabs of pain. 

When she’d calmed down enough, she quietly asked against his chest, “Is it true? You have amnesia?” 

“Yes,” he admitted in a small breath. Ochako breathed in deeply, shakily. Then, she shot up, her teary brown eyes gleaming with determination. 

“That’s okay! We can work through it!” Hitoshi’s heart fluttered at her use of “we.” She grabbed his hands and squeezed them tight, giving him a watery smile. “I’ll be with you every step of the way, ‘Toshi. We’re gonna get you better, okay?” she said softly and threaded her fingers through his lavender hair. Her fingers skimmed over the shaved patch in his head and the sutures from where they’d had to split his skull open, and she hiccuped as a fresh wave of tears streamed down her cheeks. “I-it’s gonna be okay.” 

He wanted to tell her that of course it was, now that she was here. But words failed him, as he was too lost in the watery sea of her chocolate-brown eyes and the feeling that everything really was going to be okay. He remembered Ochako, and that was enough comfort to him to face all the trials ahead. 

~~~~~~~~~~

He was discharged from the hospital a week later. In addition to his head injuries, he’d sustained a broken arm and leg, three broken ribs, two fractured cervical vertebrae, and a myriad of scrapes and bruises. Because of the severity of his wounds and his amnesia, it was difficult for Hitoshi to manage by himself, so his friends took it upon themselves to care for him. Nothing humbles you like being unable to do even the most menial tasks, like put on clothes or bathe yourself. Hitoshi’s friends took it in stride, though, and always batted away his emotional expressions of gratitude. “It’s just what friends do,” they said. 

It made Hitoshi wish he remembered their friendships. Maybe then it would make him feel less like a charity case. 

Though his friends rotated shifts around their hero duties to help him throughout the day, Ochako always cooked dinner for him— without fail, every night. They would always insist on sharing the load, she stubbornly refused them. Toting in groceries, sometimes still in her hero uniform and beat up from the toil of the day, she’d grin determinedly. 

“My mom always said that nothing helps you heal faster than a good meal. That’s how I can help!” 

Hitoshi couldn’t find the words to tell her that her presence helped him heal more than food ever could. He’d sit in his wheelchair watching her cook, the way she turned up the radio and danced around the kitchen singing into the wooden spoon. Swinging her hips, she’d whirl around to serenade him with a goofy smile. Hitoshi never knew the words to the songs. He’d just grin back, charmed by her zest for life. It was so dazzling, so blinding, that even now he couldn’t find the courage to tell her how he felt. She was like the sun, so radiant and sublime that he felt like he couldn’t ever compete. 

He should say something to her. Really, he should. But… the words just couldn’t come, just like his memories. 

Three weeks in, Hitoshi’s memories had trickled in somewhat. Most of them were dredged up by old stories his friends told him, so there were still tons of gaps. Still, it made Hitoshi feel a little better; he no longer felt like he was trapped in a void and a stranger to himself. Looking back, it was a terribly scary and lonely feeling, for others to know more about you than you did. Though the doctor kept telling him to give it time, Hitoshi had already resolved himself to the fact that maybe he might not ever get them all back. His past would just be a jigsaw puzzle of little snatches of memory and secondhand information. 

As much as he tried to convince himself that it was all right, he couldn’t. He hated the not knowing— the not knowing all that time he was in love with Ochako besides those feelings. He wanted all of it, every moment he’d ever had with her to treasure and savor. It was maddening, not having that, so Hitoshi decided to just make do with the new moments. Now, if he could just get over himself and ask her out. 

“‘Toshi? Do you not like it?” 

Ochako’s sweet voice dragged him out of his thoughts. He was reclined on the couch with a bowl of noodles growing cold in his hand, the fork still halfway raised to his lips. It had been a new recipe, Ochako had said. Hurriedly, he scooped the noodles into his mouth and gave her an approving hum. 

“No, sorry. I was just lost in thought. It’s really good.” 

Ochako smiled relievedly, melting into his armchair. She set her empty bowl of noodles on the coffee table, idly flipping through the television channels as Hitoshi finished off his food before it really did grow cold and unappetizing. Eventually, Ochako decided there was nothing worth watching and flipped off the television. She rose to get their dirty dishes, and Hitoshi watched her with lidded lilac eyes. How could every move a person made be pure magic? As she waltzed out the room into the kitchen, the fluidness of her body just amazed him. 

Yet… something was wrong. He could tell. Her body was tense, the edges of her smile crinkled, her eyebrows just barely furrowed. She tried to pass it off with a smile to him as she walked back in, but Hitoshi wasn’t buying it. As she proposed renting a movie, he cut her off, gesturing for her to approach. Confused, she walked over and sat on the edge of the coffee table beside him. 

“Tell me what’s wrong,” he ordered. Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment at Hitoshi’s brusque command. She shifted on the wood, pressing her hands between her thighs and rolling her bottom lip under her front teeth. Hitoshi waited patiently for the girl to gather her thoughts. 

“I haven’t been sleeping,” she admitted finally. “I’m tired.” Now that she brought it up, he could see the dark lines ringing the undersides of her eyes and the way that her body sagged. He wordlessly ordered her to elaborate, making her cheeks flood darker. “I… Ever since the accident, I’ve had nightmares, ‘Toshi,” she said hoarsely. The tears sprung to her eyes and began to roll down her cheeks, making her try and wipe them away with the heels of her palms. “That was the worst night of my life, hearing those awful sounds and not knowing what was going on, and— it felt like forever before I could finally find you, and then they told me you were in surgery and you might not make it, and I just— oh, I can’t get it out of my head. That night is just on replay for me, over and over.

And the worst part is that it’s so selfish of me!” she wailed, leaning over and burying her face into her hands. “You were the one in the accident, not me! If anything, you should be the one who’s haunted by it and I have no right to complain, but I… but I… I feel trapped…” she moaned miserably. “If I hadn’t picked up the phone… Then maybe you wouldn’t have ended up like this…” she revealed in a harsh whisper. 

“Oh, Ochako, no!” Hitoshi cried. In his effort to comfort her, he slid off the couch a little, making his brittle bones flare painfully in protest. He didn’t care. Clumsily, he gathered the crying girl into his arms and dragged her onto the couch with him. It was a tight fit, but she still curled into his side, crying into his shoulder as he hugged her tightly with his good arm. “God, Ochako, don’t blame yourself for what happened to me. It wasn’t your fault.” 

“But… If I had done something different…” she protested weakly, shaking her head and smearing her tears across his shoulder. To snap her out of her spiral, he pinched her cheek and tugged hard. She shot up into a sitting position, looking at him with wide eyes and her teeth and tongue peeking out from underneath her stretched lips. “‘Toshi… Ow… Tha’ hursh...” she slurred in protest and blinked rapidly as the tears continued to prickle at her eyes. 

“Listen to me,” he said sternly. “The accident was not your fault. It was just a freak thing, okay? If anything, it’s my fault for picking up the phone because I couldn’t wait until my patrol was over to call you.” As he spoke, the memories of that night and all the nights before came flooding back. As they rushed in like water, the flow of his words rose in tandem. “I was just so excited that you were back that I just had to hear your voice, right then, and I wasn’t paying attention to anything but you, and—” 

He stopped short, cheeks flooding pink as he realized what exactly was tumbling out of his mouth. Ochako stared dumbly at him, a little drool leaking from the corner of her mouth as he was still stretching it. He stiffly released her, causing the skin to snap back. There were pink imprints in her skin where he’d pinched it; she slowly reached up to rub at it, blinking sluggishly.

Well. The cat was out of the bag now, so Hitoshi might as well let it go wild. 

“Ochako… I don’t want you here every day because you feel responsible for what happened to me.” He smiled softly and reached up to cover her hand in his own, cupping her cheek. “I want you here because I love you. I’ve always loved you.” 

“You remembered?” she asked meekly. As a fresh wave of tears streamed from her eyes, Hitoshi’s smile widened, and he thumbed them away. 

“No,” he said with a shake of his head. “I never forgot, Ochako.” 

She sucked in a breath, then let it out shakily. Her throat bobbed as she swallowed a few times, tearfully processing the situation. After a few minutes of just silently crying next to Hitoshi, her cheeks began to flood pink again. 

“I… I would really like it if you kissed me right now,” she admitted bashfully. Hitoshi snorted with laughter, but hell, who was he to refuse? He gently moved his hand to the back of her head to pull her forward. Ochako melted into his touch, allowing him to maneuver her as he would to bring her face close. Her hands felt onto his chest, digging into the soft fabric of his tee-shirt. Hitoshi held her there for a moment, centimeters away, to admire the gorgeous view of her lidded brown eyes and flushed cheeks. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he breathed. Her blush darkened and she shyly bit down on her bottom lip. He chuckled as she wiggled in impatience but opted against teasing her more. He closed his eyes and the gap between them, pressing their lips together in a sweet but passionate kiss. Ochako hummed as his mouth smoothed over hers, so naturally like it had always belonged there. Hitoshi kissed her languidly, savoring the softness of her lips and the aftertaste of chicken broth that was oddly pleasurable. Nothing promotes healing like a good meal, he thought with a mischievous smirk. Ochako would probably explode from mortification if he told her that. She was so cute when she was flustered, though, that it might always be worth saying. 

They kissed idly for quite a while, until their faces were flushed and they were a little out of breath. Ochako had draped herself over his chest and wormed her legs between his, careful not to jar his mending bones. She looped her arms around his neck to play with the ends of his fluffy lavender hair, chin propped on his chest so close that he could lean in and peck her lips every once in a while. 

“What are you thinking?” she asked him after he’d been quiet for some time. A smile slowly spread across his lips. 

“I was thinking…” he said, pausing to give her another soft, sweet kiss, “that we never had that lunch date, did we?” 

A smile slowly spread across her face, lighting her up like the sun. Bright as it was, Hitoshi couldn’t tear his gaze away; he wouldn’t, even if it blinded him forever. He would be glad if it was the last thing he ever saw. Giggling, Ochako snuggled into him, fluttering her long brown lashes. 

“No, we didn’t. You asked for one heck of a raincheck.” 

Hitoshi scoffed, making her stick out her tongue mischievously at him. One heck of a raincheck, indeed. That was okay, though. Even sad moments were moments, too, and Hitoshi valued every moment with Ochako like the most priceless jewel on Earth. Though he’d like to collect every one he could, he thought as they cuddled and began to drowse, he wouldn’t mind stretching this one out a little. It marked the beginning of new memories, after all.

Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to peruse my Table of Contents!

[pearlsephoni]

ItaFushi Week 2021, Day 1: Sharing a Meal

Can also be read on AO3!

Rating: G

Fandom: Jujutsu Kaisen

Pairing: ItaFushi (Itadori/Fushiguro)

Characters: Yuuji Itadori, Megumi Fushiguro, Nobara Kugisaki

Word Count: 1,855

Summary: In the aftermath of the ambush during the Goodwill Event, Yuuji is faced with the grief he left behind when he was in hiding.

A/N: Author’s notes can be read on AO3.

All things considered, Fushiguro had been lucky. He had escaped the curse spirit ambush with bad injuries, sure, but nothing a little time with Ieiri and an afternoon in bed wouldn’t fix. Or at least, that was what Gojo had told Yuuji. 

But Yuuji still couldn’t shake the guilt that had weighed on him since he’d popped out of the cart and been faced by Kugisaki’s angry tears and Fushiguro’s shocked stare. He could ignore it well enough when his focus was needed for his and Todo’s fight against Hanami. Now, though, alone in his room with a silence that was only broken by the occasional shuffles from Fushiguro through the wall...Yuuji felt both leaden and restless, exhausted and buzzing with energy, nervous and excited to see his friend. 

A text from Kugisaki was what finally pulled him out of bed. Against Ieiri’s recommendations, Kugisaki was determined to have a pizza lunch to celebrate their survival of the event’s first day, and Yuuji was only too happy to wire over his share of the delivery price. 

Yuuji: make sure you order meat pizza!  we need meat to recover from today! 

Kugisaki: u need vegetables too, idiot. thx for the money! 

“Don’t use my money for veggies, asshole,” Yuuji mumbled as he made his way next door. 

He’d forgotten his nerves over facing Fushiguro, but they crashed back into him when he faced his door. He knew, logically, Fushiguro wouldn’t be mad at him. He wasn’t the sort to hold a grudge like that. But he also knew, logically, Fushiguro would be well within his rights to still be pissed over Yuuji being alive for weeks without telling him. He’d seen the anger flashing in those blue eyes whenever Yuuji mentioned something that had happened, but it was just as quick to go away as it was to rear its head. 

At the end of the day, though, Yuuji was alive. However Fushiguro felt about the secrets between them, he had to still be happy about that. 

That thought finally let Yuuji’s back straighten and his fist knock against the door. “Come in.” 

“Yo, Fushiguro!” Yuuji called as he opened the door. “Woah! You’re looking good!” 

He really did. Sure, he was wearing pajamas and in bed while the sun was in the sky, something that he would never do in good health. But his back was straight as he sat there, and Yuuji couldn’t see any blood or bandages, and he distinctly remembered how battered he had looked before Panda carried him away. 

Fushiguro apparently didn’t agree. “Please stop saying that when I’m injured.” 

“Hey, I say it other times too!” 

“That’s not the point.” 

Yuuji was too focused on wheeling Fushiguro’s old desk chair over to the bed to notice the intensity in his eyes and the light dusting of pink on his cheeks. “You didn’t eat yet, right? Kugisaki’s grabbing some pizza for us, so we can have a pizza party!” 

“Shouldn’t we be eating something healthier after everything that happened today?” 

“Nah, we should have something tasty! And I told her to make sure to get a pizza with lots of meat, so you can get better fast!” He plopped into the chair, making the old thing creak with his weight, before he caught sight of Fushiguro’s gaze on him. “...What? You feeling alright, man?” 

He reached out to press his hand against Fushiguro’s forehead, falling back on instinct from his days by his grandfather’s bed. He didn’t think about how Fushiguro would respond until it was too late, the other boy’s hand wrapping around his wrist just as his fingertips brushed his forehead. “Shit, sorry, I didn’t-”

His words died on his tongue when Fushiguro didn’t let go. Instead, his fingers found Yuuji’s pulse just as Yuuji’s heart jolted in his chest at the feeling of their skin pressing together. “W-what’s going on, Fushiguro?” 

“Quiet.” Yuuji’s jaw clacked shut automatically, leaving him silent and flushing as he watched Fushiguro. The other boy’s fingers were firm against his wrist, and with each passing second, he slowly, gradually relaxed, until his forehead came to rest gently against Yuuji’s limp hand. “You’re really alive.” 

“Huh? Yeah, of course I am! Didja think I was a zombie out there?” Yuuji winced under the hard stare he received, his cheerful smile faltering at the grief that still tinged that blue gaze. 

“That would make more sense than you suddenly coming back to life,” Fushiguro grumbled. “You were dead, Itadori.” 

“I…I know.” 

“No, listen to me. I saw Sukuna rip your heart out, and I couldn’t do anything to save you. I was useless, and you were dead. I saw you die. And then suddenly you came back, and we didn’t even get to talk before you were risking your stupid life again. You told me not to worry, you said you wouldn’t die, but I couldn’t believe you. How could I?” 

The words left him in a rush, as though they were spilling out faster than he could say them. He was speaking more than Yuuji had ever heard him speak before, and his throat clenched with guilt the more Fushiguro spoke. By the time he fell quiet again, Yuuji could barely choke out the words, “I’m sorry.” 

“…Don’t apologize. I don’t blame you.” 

“Still. I’m so sorry, Fushiguro. I didn’t…I didn’t think…” Fushiguro’s fingers loosened around his wrist, but before he could pull away, Yuuji grabbed at his hand. “I swear, Fushiguro,” his fingers tightened around Fushiguro’s, “I swear I’ll never make you feel like that again. I’ll keep training and I’ll get stronger and I’ll make sure you never go through anything like that again. Or, I mean…not because of me.”

“Okay,” Fushiguro murmured after a moment of searching for something in Yuuji’s eyes. “Then I promise the same.” 

“Okay!” A relieved smile broke across Yuuji’s face, and he distantly noted the dusting of pink that appeared on Fushiguro’s cheeks. “Okay. Good!”

“Ughhhhh, gross.” 

Their hands jerked apart and their gazes jumped from each other to the door, where Kugisaki stood with a pizza box balanced in one hand. “I go get us this delicious pizza, and you repay me by making me a third wheel?” 

“What’re you talking about?” Fushiguro grumbled, barely audible over Yuuji’s excited, “Pizza’s here! What kind did you get?” 

“A kind that you better eat. I’m not gonna grab another one.” 

“Not even for your bedridden friend?” 

“Shut it. You don’t get to guilt trip me, you sneaky liar.” Kugisaki’s voice was flippant, but her eyes flashed with a genuine hurt that Yuuji recognized from Fushiguro’s eyes just moments before. “Still can’t believe Gojo-sensei didn’t let you tell us you weren’t dead.” 

“Yeah, I’m...I’m really sorry, Kugisaki.” 

“You don’t- it’s just-” She let out a huff as she dropped the pizza box onto Fushiguro’s lap and dragged a stool to the other side of his bed. “Can you at least tell us what happened to you? You were gone for weeks, dude.” 

Yuuji was quiet for a moment, his eyes fixed on fingers that plucked at a stray thread in the blanket while he searched for the right words. “I…I lost a friend. During my first mission after training. Did you hear about that?” 

“Yeah. Gojo told us,” Fushiguro said, his voice soft.

Yuuji's eyes drifted back up to Fushiguro’s as he nodded. “I really thought I could save him. I thought I could bring him here, introduce him to you guys and help him finally have a happier life. But he was turned into a curse and killed before I could even do anything. Just like that, he was gone. I didn’t know I could feel so angry and sad and useless. And I didn’t realize you could’ve felt the same way after…after you saw me die, Fushiguro.” 

His voice caught, forcing him to stop and clear his throat. In the brief silence, Kugisaki solemnly handed him a slice of pizza, a gesture that was so out of place, yet so earnest, that Yuuji couldn’t help cracking a small smile before he continued. “A lot of people died that day, and after all of it, I still couldn’t put up a good enough fight. I still had to rely on Nanamin. I think...I think that’s why I was so reckless today. I saw how badly I hurt you guys by not telling you the truth, and I wanted to prove to you all and to myself that it was worth something. That I at least got a little stronger.” 

There was another moment of silence as the other two watched him, letting him blink away the threat of tears and making sure he was done talking. Then, finally, Fushiguro spoke. “You did. You got a lot stronger. I didn’t think you could pull off that kind of growth, but you proved me wrong.” 

Yuuji squinted at him with a small frown. Those words seemed genuine, and he couldn’t see any sign of mockery on Fushiguro’s face, and yet...“Hey, you trying to call me a slow learner?” 

“You’re fast in many ways, Itadori-kun,” Kugisaki sighed, “but not when you have to use your brain.” 

“What the hell! I spill my heart out to you, and you decide to bully me? What kind of ‘welcome back’ is this?” 

“It’s not a ‘welcome back’ for you, it’s a ‘get well soon’ for Fushiguro.” 

“Please don’t pull me into this,” Fushiguro muttered, “You two just wanted an excuse to get pizza.” 

“Besides,” Kugisaki continued loudly in an attempt to drown out Fushiguro, “you still need to do me a favor before I truly forgive you.” 

“Huh?!” 

“Carry my bags for me on my next shopping trip, and all will be forgiven.” The hand that wasn’t holding pizza reached across the bed for Yuuji to shake, as though they were sealing a business deal. For all her bratty formality, Yuuji could see the “favor” for what it truly was: an invitation, a sign of forgiveness in and of itself. Kugisaki wanted to spend time with him, a far cry from the girl who had sighed at the first sight of him. 

Yuuji’s cheeks ached from how wide his smile stretched as he eagerly took her hand. “Deal!” 

“Pleasure doing business with you, Itadori-san.” 

“And with you, Kugisaki-san.” 

“Are you gonna eat this pizza,” Fushiguro muttered, trying and failing to bite back his small grin, “or are you gonna keep this up until it’s cold?” 

Yuuji obediently bit into his slice as he eyed the other boy. “Hey, Fushiguro,” he mumbled around his mouthful, “you’re gonna come with us right?” 

“Don’t talk with your mouth full.” 

“I need someone to keep me company when Kugisaki’s stuck in the dressing room.” 

“Itadori, you-” 

“Gojo will probably make me come to babysit you two anyway,” Fushiguro said, cutting off Kugisaki, who glared daggers at Yuuji, “so yeah. I’ll come.” 

Gojo was a flimsy excuse, one that crumpled under the widening grin on Fushiguro’s lips. That grin almost turned into a proper smile when Yuuji beamed back at him. “Good!”

[voiceless-terror]

Smile and Nod (The Magnus Archives)

Whumptober 2020 Day Six: “Stop, please”

Fandom: The Magnus Archives

Characters: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims, Sasha James, Tim Stoker, Elias Bouchard, Original Character

CW: Harassment, Unwanted Advances

Summary: 

“He said to let go of him.” The voice startles them both and Jon turns to see Martin, a placid smile on his face. He is tall, so tall- was Martin always this tall?

Jon runs into trouble at the Institute’s annual donor party and has an unlikely rescuer. 

The Institute hosted a party for its most illustrious donors every spring. Jon had never been expected to go to it until his promotion to Head Archivist and even then he tried to get it out of it, to no avail.

“I’m afraid it’s part of your duties now as Head Archivist,” Elias had said. “We need to have a face for every department and I’m sure quite a few of our donors are anxious to meet Gertrude’s replacement. You understand, of course.” Jon nodded. “I trust you’ll be on your best behavior.” He hadn’t forgotten his promise to ‘be more lovely’ after the incident with Naomi Herne. 

“Yes, yes,” Jon sighed. He wasn’t looking forward to the event- sticking close to Elias’s side didn’t seem very appealing, but being left to the wolves was even worse. Elias seemed to notice his hesitation and paused, waiting for Jon to continue. Perhaps he didn’t have to go alone. It’s worth a try, isn’t it?

“W-Would it,” he began, cursing his stutter. “That is, I would like to- if you don’t mind, I think it would be valuable to have my assistants attend, as well?” He hated the uptick in his voice that made it sound more like a question. “I-I just think it would be a good experience for them to ah, meet the donors as well. Since they do a lot of the research.” Another reminder that he had no idea what he was doing; Elias hadn’t said anything about his methods in the Archives, so he only hoped that indicated a tacit agreement about the way things should be run. 

Jon watched several emotions flit across the man’s face, irritation and disappointment giving way to resignation. He tried to ignore the first two and focus on the last. “Alright,” Elias agreed with a sigh. “Please stress the formality of this event, particularly to Mr. Blackwood. You’ll be representing the Institute, and as such you will be expected to interact with our donors. See that you don’t use your assistants as a social crutch.” Damn. There goes his plan. At least I’ll have some support. 

So here he was, standing in the hallway with his assistants in an ill-fitting suit he last wore to the funeral of a distant cousin. It didn’t fit then, either. He hoped he didn’t look too much like a child in his father’s clothes, but the snickers from Tim and Sasha dashed any hope of that. They looked wonderful, of course, as they always did. Martin was in the same boat as Jon, fidgeting in a blazer and non-matching pants.

“Well boss, looks like it’s time to schmooze!” Tim clapped a hand on his shoulder and steered him through the door. Elias liked to have his parties in the main library- it was the most beautiful part of the Institute, aside from the entrance hall. The tables and desks that normally populated the center of the room had been cleared away to reveal a rather spacious area for guests to mingle and talk over the sound of a tasteful string quartet. The whole event was incredibly elegant and Jon felt like he very much did not belong.

“Ah, there he is!” He heard Elias call from the right-hand corner of the room, where he was surrounded by several well-to-do donors dressed to the nines. He gestured him over with a magnanimous hand and Jon instantly flushed. Tim squeezed his shoulder and pushed him in their general direction. “This is our new Head Archivist, Jonathan Sims. He’s been doing fine work thus far.”

After a moment Tim’s hand is replaced by Elias’s, firm and weighty on his shoulder. He’s exchanging pleasantries with people whose names he forgets almost instantly- their hands are cold and their voices distant, they talk over him as if he were a child they judged and found wanting. Elias’s hand did not move and he was anchored in place, even as they made no move to include him in their conversation.

He saw Martin give him a look of pity from the corner that he was currently occupying with Sasha and Tim. They had their hands full of hors d'oeuvres and drinks and Jon wished desperately for a glass of water, anything to keep his hands occupied. He turned to realize the  conversation had stopped and his companions were staring at him expectantly. “I’m sorry?” he hazarded, wondering if he’d been addressed.

“Our son George,” the woman over-enunciated, her tone condescending. Jon remembered vaguely that she had some connection to the Fairchilds, though her name wasn’t familiar. “-is over by the bar. I think you’ll find his company a bit more interesting, hm?” The group tittered and Jon felt shame rise in his throat as his boss’s hand tightened on his shoulder.

“Yes Jon, why don’t you introduce yourself?” Elias said genially enough, though Jon can tell he had disappointed him once again. Jon nodded, excusing himself to go to the corner to get a much-needed drink and to embarrass himself further. There was a man roughly his age fiddling around on his phone with a bored expression. He was tall and handsome but in the soft way of the rich, cruel and cherubic in equal measure. It unnerved Jon and he summoned up a smile that felt more like a grimace.

“G-George?” he asked, willing his voice to steady. The man looked up, expression unchanged as his eyes bored into Jon’s. “I’m Jonathan Sims, the new Head Archivist-”

“Parents send you over?” he smirked and Jon felt the tension in his shoulders ease just a bit. “Sorry you had to deal with them. This your first time at one of these? Median age here is usually around seventy five, give or take.” He laughed and Jon smiled, the man’s candor a bit charming even to him. 

“Y-Yes, I’m not really sure I should be here,” he admitted as George slid a drink into his hand. He took a grateful sip and closed his eyes at it’s smooth burn- this was expensive liquor and Jon was going to savor every last bit.

“That makes two of us,” the man nudged him with his elbow and Jon started to think the night might not be as bad as he thought. He glanced quickly over to the other side of the room- Tim winked and gave him a thumbs-up (which he ignored) and Martin’s face was carefully blank. Jon did not know what to make of that.

George, it seemed, was not all that bad. He listened patiently when Jon went off on a rant about book-binding, nodding and smiling at all the right parts. In return, Jon let him talk about finance for longer than was polite (and God was it boring). They’ve now had two drinks and Jon is feeling much, much looser. The smiles are genuine and unforced. He watches Elias nod in approval out of the corner of his eye and feels his chest warm with pride. Not a complete disappointment, am I?

But George is getting closer. It was fine when they were awkwardly perched on opposite ends of the bar and needed to hear one another, but this was getting too cozy for Jon’s tastes. He tries to take a casual step backwards but stumbles. George’s hand goes to his elbow to help steady him and stays there. 

“I-I think I need to-” he starts to mumble an excuse but the man is not having it.

“What do you say we get out of here?” He whispers, coming in closer. Jon’s nerves reach a fever-pitch but he does not want to show it, doesn’t want to make a scene so he keeps the smile pasted on his face. “My apartment’s not that far-”

“O-Oh, I’m f-fine, thanks,” he says, trying to dislodge the man’s arm but it is no use- he is much stronger than he looks and has at least half a foot on him. “I actually have plans-”

“With who?” George asks pityingly as Jon tries desperately to meet anyone’s eyes, even Elias’s. He tries to convey his plea without making it obvious to any other bystanders but his boss’s eyes slide right over him. He knows he saw, he knows-

“That’s why they sent you over, right?” George continues, his mouth dangerously close to Jon’s neck as he leans into whisper in his ear. “Pretty thing like you, get me to open the cheque book-”

“Good Lord no, let me go-” at this Jon scoffs, horrified as he tries to yank his arm away.

“Don’t make a scene,” the man says in a low and calming voice, though the leer on his face is clear to see. Jon feels terribly small. “You don’t want to disappoint the boss, do you?”

“Please,” he begs, all out of words. “Stop, please-”

“He said to let go of him.” The voice startles them both and Jon turns to see Martin, a placid smile on his face. He is tall, so tall- was Martin always this tall? 

“I’m sorry?” George replies with a sneer, his voice raising in both pitch and volume and Jon is sure if people weren’t looking before, they’re looking now. “I’ll thank you to stay out of this, we were just leaving-”

“No,” Martin replies in that preternaturally calm voice, still smiling. “You weren’t. Now let him go, and we can forget this all happened, hm?” He puts a hand on the arm that’s holding Jon and there’s real strength behind it. George tries to wrench his arm away but Martin’s got it in a solid grip and he barely manages a wiggle.

“Let go of me now, or I’ll-”

“You’ll what?” Martin sounds bored. It is mystifying and Jon can do nothing but gape at the man. “You don’t want a scene, do you? Not in front of the family. Not again. So smile, and walk away.” There is a moment where Jon thinks they will come to blows but it passes. George manages to turn his scowl into a neutral expression, saving some dignity though he throws one last glare Jon’s way. “Not even worth it,” he mutters as he walks away. Jon leans against the bar, releasing a breath he did not realize he’d been holding.

“A-Are you alright, Jon?” Martin has a hand on his elbow but it’s okay now because it’s Martin and it feels right. His face has that same look he gets when he asks Jon whether he wants a cup of tea, or how he’s feeling or if he’s eaten that day. Worried, gentle.

“W-What was that?” is all Jon manages to get out, his voice in an embarrassingly high-pitch. Tim and Sasha are now making their way over with schooled expressions, though Jon can see the worry in their eyes. “Did you know that man? I-I mean, what the hell?” Jon realizes he’s sputtering and tries to get a handle on his swirling emotions. “N-Not that I’m not grateful, but good lord. ‘Not again?’”

Martin laughs, suddenly bashful. “I just guessed with that one, honestly. He looks like the type that’s thrown a fit or two, doesn’t he?” Tim and Sasha reach them and Martin is himself again, hunched over like he’s taking up too much space. This is the Martin that tiptoes around the archives, that’s always smiling and chattering about his day. Jon has never contemplated the man in much detail, but he is finding it hard to reconcile this new side of him. It’s not necessarily unwelcome. 

“Alright there, boss?” Tim inquires, good-natured but anxious. “Was going to come over, pretend to be your boyfriend and all but Martin said that would be ‘demeaning’ or whatever.” Tim rolls his eyes at this.

“I don’t know, Martin seemed to diffuse the situation pretty well,” Sasha eyes him curiously. “What did you say?”

“N-Nothing, really-”

“He asked him to leave,” Jon says, finding his voice and unable to take his eyes off Martin. “And he left.”

“Damn, okay,” Tim gives an appreciative whistle before knocking back the rest of his drink. “Working that Mart-o magic, I guess. This party blows, let’s hit the bars. Night’s still young!”

Sasha cheers and Martin looks at him questioningly- he surprises himself by nodding in agreement. “Yeah, let’s go.” He studiously ignores Elias breaking off from his group of sycophants and heading their way. He watches as Martin straightens himself minutely, blocking Jon with his body as Tim ushers them out the door before they can get stopped by the man. Jon knows he will get a tongue-lashing out of this but he doesn’t care right now. He feels small in Martin’s shadow but it is a safe small, like a blanket wrapped around him on a chilly night.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Martin asks as Tim and Sasha chatter ahead of them, arguing over their destination. “We don’t have to go out if you don’t want to. I can take you home.”

I can take you home.

“I’m fine,” he says though he knows the situation hasn’t quite set in yet. “I’d rather not be alone, I-I think.” Martin nods and gives him a smile. It is almost charming, and Jon returns it. He doesn’t really want another drink but he needs a distraction, any distraction.

The night is cold and Martin is close, big and safe and warm. And if Jon leans into his side when they finally agree on a bar, that’s nobody’s business but his own.

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26856373

[zodiyack]

Ladies With Brains

Requested by anon: Might be a strange request, Could you please write an imagine where reader is dating Patrick Bateman and she has mental illnesses as well so when he says “you could always be skinnier, look better” she admits that she knows that he’s a serial killer and was just waiting for her turn to die, but he can’t bring himself to kill her because he has fallen for her?

Pairing: Patrick Bateman x Female!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, angst, mention of murder, slasher stuff

Words: 1,305

Summary: (See Request)

Taglist: @matth1w​, @redspaceace-writes​, @fandom-puff​, @darling-i-read-it​, @simonsbluee​

Masterlist | Slasher Masterlist

Though he was good-looking, Patrick was not the most desired of men to be dating. Then again, he wasn’t as much as an asshole as his coworkers. Y/n was a guest; one of said coworkers cousins. She caught his eye rather quickly and peaked his interest to a point he’d never thought existed.

They had some stuff in common too. Right when he met her, he learned of one. Like Patrick, she hated the social gatherings, constantly rubbing her temples and itching to escape the crowded room to some place more quiet and relaxed.

When she finally found her escape, Patrick followed her. He watched as she pulled out a small thing of pills and grabbed her glass of water she’d brought from the other room. Though he wondered what they were for, he moved on to engaging with his prey.

“Hello.” His voice broke the peaceful silence, but Y/n did not move a muscle.

“Oh, hello. Patrick, is it?” When she turned around, Patrick couldn’t help but stare. She was far too beautiful to be stuck in a business party. Patrick admired her beauty, imagining her death a little too happily.

“Yes. You are...”

“Y/n. Y/n L/n.” She held out her hand to shake his with a small smile on her face, more than likely fake due to the visible exhaustion running over her entire form. When he didn’t shake it back, she shrugged, “Not a fan of human contact I see? Don’t worry...it’s the same here. My cousin scolded me the last ten times, so now I either put on a smile and shake their hands or stay at his home and babysit for him.”

“Why not stay at your own place?”

“My roommate’s anniversary is today...so she kicked me out for the night. Every anniversary I get kicked out. It’s alright though, I’m used to it now.”

“And?” Patrick scoffed. He ignored everything else she’d said after the part about being kicked out. He spoke as if everything he said was obvious and easy, “You could live on your own.”

Y/n shook her head as the smile dropped from her face. “Patrick, not all of us can afford luxuries such as that. And even if I could, there are some things I just need another person to be around for. Not everyone is like you, not everyone is like my cousin, and not everyone is like me. I’m glad we had this talk, but I’d like to be alone for now.”

“I- uhm...” Patrick wasn’t too used to this rejection. Sure, he’d usually get odd looks, but rejection? “How about this, you and I go to my place and you don’t have to be somewhere you don’t want to be?”

“Patrick. That would be taking me somewhere I don’t want to be.”

The disappointment could be seen on his face. To her, he was disappointed because he wanted to get to know her, but to him, he was disappointed for numerous reasons. None of which, were legal. Nevertheless, he nodded. Seeing his reaction, Y/n continued with what she was going to say.

“However...you could take me on a date. Maybe after a few of those...I’ll be willing to go over to your place. Alright?”

He thought it over before nodding again, “Deal.”

They went on Patrick’s promised dates. Everything went as plan, smoothly and successfully...well...almost everything. Patrick had a complication that could be the thing that ruined everything he’d worked for. The dates started as a plan for three. Then it turned into one every other week. Their relationship continued to grow.

He caught feelings for Y/n, and her him. Patrick didn’t want to admit it. He didn’t know how to admit it. He didn’t know what would happen if he did admit it. So, as a solution to all his problems, he ignored everything he felt for her.

But then the day came. Y/n was in his living room with him, the two making small talk as per usual. She flipped through a magazine for a bit before scoffing and throwing it down. “These magazines, models, companies; it’s all fake. They’re just trying to get girls to feel insecure enough to buy their products.”

“Well, are you?”

“Am I what?”

“Insecure enough to buy their products?”

She shook her head with a sarcastic laugh, “No. But I admit, I’m feeling the envy they somehow make the models give to the viewers, but, it’s not like I can do anything about it.”

“You could always be skinnier.” He suggested, speaking honestly, face and voice expressionless. “Look better.”

“Patrick. That wasn’t nice.”

“And?”

Y/n sighed, looking away from him. “If I wanted to look like some plastic Barbie doll, I’d join the women you’ve murdered. Your preference in women seems to match that description.”

Patrick’s head immediately snapped back towards her. “What did you say?”

“Blond, skinny, so on. My question is why you have yet to kill me? Is it ‘cause I’m not as Barbie-looking as you’d like me to be?” She was being serious, genuinely confused, and intrigued, as to why she wasn’t already one of the people in and on the news labeled as missing but in reality very much dead.

He stood up quickly, grabbing the weapon beside him as he rose from the couch. Patrick pointed it at her and furrowed his brows. He told himself to do it, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t.

Y/n acted as if there was no weapon pointed at her, as if she had not known Patrick was a murderer, as if nothing was wrong. He wanted to say that he hated that she wasn’t scared of him but he knew he would hate it even more if she was.

“Patrick. If you want to kill me, then kill me.” Even through the horror of their complex situation, Y/n remained calm and soft spoken. Patrick couldn’t decide if he hated or loved it. She was a woman he could get use to, that he agreed with, but her brains drove him crazy. A smart woman was beautiful yet torture all at the same time.

“Get away from me!” He yelled, pained by his own human feelings for her.

All she did was stand up, providing him with a clean shot. He knew he could kill her, but his body refused to do anything that would bring her harm. His mind was filled with more worries than temptation.

“Leave! Get out! Run before I hurt you!” She didn’t budge. “I’ll kill you, you little bitch!”

Patrick groaned in anger as Y/n kept quiet and still. It was like she was silently calling his bluff. Bateman had never felt this before, thus his hesitation had been self-explanatory. Did he hate the feeling? He wasn’t sure. But would the feeling turn negative for him if he rid the world of one person in his life to make him feel as such? Would it disappear? He didn’t want to find out; any person could see the risk was too high.

“You won’t. If you wanted to kill me, you would’ve done it by now.” She didn’t move, and he hated it. He hated her for making him feel this way. He hated himself for feeling it.

He hated himself for showing weakness. He hated himself for dropping the weapon and giving in. “Just...give- give me time. I need to think-”

“We’ll need to talk about this at some point. Just know that I’m not scared. I know you won’t hurt me.” Y/n nodded and began to walk out of his apartment, turning and giving him a final understand look. “Call me when you want to talk. We...we have a lot to talk about.”

Why’d he have to pick the smart one? Patrick cursed himself; they really did have a lot to talk about.

[chibamari]

If I could love you

Fandom: Ikemen Revolution Pairing(s): Dalim Tweedle x Laura [OC], Sirius Oswald x Kisa Ryujin [OC] Word Count: ca. 1900 Warnings: fluff to spice (minors DNI!), betrayal and angst Author’s Notes: To my dearest friend @iluvsexyvoltageguys as a celebration of Dalim’s route being announced! I know you’ve been waiting for him since day one girl, enjoy 💋

0:45am… What an evening, I thought as I waved goodbye to Sirius, a sleepy Kisa on his back. Ever calm and collected, he couldn’t hide his irritation when he saw Kisa chatting away with her ex-fiancé Jonah earlier. Little did he know that all she did was ask for advice. There were still some secrets uncovered, who knows what’s going to happen between those two. Tired, I closed the door of my pub. I should be happy with how well business has been ever since a certain little princess started working here, however, the copious amounts of attention that she received made the whole ordeal less amusing. Not that I could blame any of them, she was a rare beauty, this one, not only look-wise, though she certainly had her charms in that department as well, but more so her aura. The ladies that belonged to my usual clientele were show ponies - pretty, flaunting what they got, well-mannered, and so shallow it was almost sad. Sad, but enough for a little fun here and there.

Laura was a wild horse. Independent, beautiful and rough around the edges. Absolutely indomitable. Which made my mission all the more alluring - seduce the princess and make her come to the Magic tower. Make her fall for you so deeply and irrevocably that she’ll do anything to ‘save you’. I’m afraid that it was too late for that, having given up my morals and anything important to me a long time ago so I could serve the greater good. I had my own plans and was willing to use any means to achieve them, even if it meant giving up on myself and any chance at happiness.

Some days I regretted this choice, this burden I had laid upon myself. Days like this, breezy summer nights, enjoying a drink after my evening shift with a lovely lady by my side. How wonderful it would be to court you and fall in love with you without the deadly shadow that was looming over my existence alone. Would you believe me if I told you that deceiving you like this was what I would regret the most?

“Dalim, are you okay?” I felt a gentle warmth on my shoulder and I turned to be met with hazel eyes, gazing at me worriedly.

“Are you worried about me? I assure you, there’s no need.”

“I’m not sure I believe you, but it’s fine if you don’t want to talk about it.”

You are far too good for me, princess.

Turning I positioned myself in front of Laura until her back hit the counter, placing my hands on either side of her, trapping her. She wasn’t afraid. You shouldn’t trust me, princess. You should run, Laura Kingsley.

“Are you sure? You might find out a thing or two that’ll make you want to run far, far away from me.” I lifted my hand and gently put a strand of her hair behind her ear. She wasn’t a shy one, but I wasn’t blind to the effect I had on her. My plan was working.

“... I’d never run from you, Dalim. And I’m not scared of you either.”

Her genuine words made my heart ache and my facade crumbled for a moment. Your eyes, princess, they tell me everything I need to know.

I carefully laid my hand upon her cheek, letting my thumb caress it gently.

“You’re so warm, princess.”

I didn’t know what overcame me when I put my arms around her small frame, nuzzling my face into the crook of her neck, letting her scent engulf me. She felt so right in my arms and just for now, I wanted to pretend that this was real. I felt her arms circle around me and pull me in closer, a warm, peaceful sensation spreading throughout my entire body, giving me goosebumps.

“You too…”, she sighed contently. 

I didn’t want this moment to end and yet it did, when something happened that surprised even me, as Laura cradled my face with her soft hands and pressed her lips on mine. 

… What?

I wanted to cry, whether out of happiness or regret, I couldn’t tell. Her lips were softer than I imagined, something I’d done a hundred times or more. 

Oh Laura, you shouldn’t-

Feeling her fingers rake through my hair made me forget everything else. I gently bit her lower lip, eliciting a tiny gasp from her. I let my tongue taste her lips that she opened willingly, continuing to cautiously explore hers.

Was I still putting on a facade?

Her hands were now roaming over my body, moving from my biceps, down my sides, to my hips and-

Fuck.

I couldn’t stop the moan when her nimble fingers undid my belt. Slowly disengaging from the kiss, I breathed heavily, as I let my forehead rest on hers.

“Princess, you don’t-”

“I know, but… I want you. Do you not..?”

Oh, if you only knew.

Should I be happy that my plan succeeded? That she wanted me like this? That soon enough I could take her to Lord Amon?

No… I wasn’t happy. Not even one bit. How could I be when I had to betray the person who has come to mean the most to me?

“Of course I do.”, I hissed, as her hand sneaked her way into my trousers, grazing my growing hardness.

“Mhhmm, I can feel that.”, she smirked and grabbed me, pumped me a few times before she pulled down the layers of clothes, her body moving downwards along with them.

Oh no.

My breath caught in my throat when she pressed a kiss on the tip, a few milky drops now adorning her rosy lips. The duality of this gesture stole all reason from my mind. Her gaze met mine, and without breaking eye contact she took my pulsing hardness into her mouth all the way.

I whimpered and it spurned her own and my knees threatened to give out beneath me. My entire body shivered when her nails gently scratched down my thighs, one hand reaching up to fondle my other private parts. 

Fuck, my princess really knows what she’s doing.

A sting of jealousy interrupted my enjoyment - Has she done this with many guys? Imagining her with anyone else at all was not a pleasant thought. Who am I to judge though… I was not a saint myself, and she knew that. 

In order to have some sort of stability I gently grabbed a fistful of her hair, observing if she gave any sort of response, but she just continued, and I knew I wasn’t going to last much longer. Laying my hand on her cheek, I pushed her back, forcing her to look back up at me.

“You’re gonna be the end of me, princess…”, guiding her to stand back up, I grabbed her hips and lifted her on top of the counter. Perfect.

I positioned myself between her legs, pushing them apart, giving me a great view of what was underneath that skirt… Red lace. My naughty princess. My body completely controlled by lust hoisted up her skirt, swiftly removing her damp panties.

“A little souvenir for myself if you’ll allow it.”, I brought them up to my face and took one deep breath. Delicious. Her panties found a new home in my breast pocket before my hands returned their attention to her naked legs, stroking up and down, each time a bit further upwards until I could feel the heat that her core emanated. As if pulled by an invisible force, my hand disappeared completely below her skirt, touching the velvet wetness in between.

I shivered. She wants me that much, huh? I was no stranger to female desire, but I can’t say it has ever given me the kind of confidence that it did right in this moment. God, she feels so inviting. I laid my chin on her shoulder, so she wouldn’t notice the blush that was surely spreading on my face, slowly starting to rub her, closely observing her every reaction. She gasped when I stroked over the sensitive pearl, desperately holding onto me when I increased my speed. I felt my hardness twitch at her reactions. How much I want her…

Let’s see what she does when-

“Fuck, Dalim-!”

My princess cursed when two of my fingers found their way into her. She clenched around me, sucking my fingers in and I nuzzled my face into her hair, as my other hand held the back of her head. 

I love it when you say my name, like I’m the only one who can make you feel like this.

Her tiny hands grabbed my bum and it took me everything to keep it together. But my efforts were to no avail when she pulled me closer, only to grab my wrist and take my fingers into her mouth. Her cashmere tongue swirled around my fingers and I was hypnotised by the sight.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?”

The question was more rhetorical than anything, because she’d never understand the extent to which she has shaken up my cursed life. My chest felt tight when I looked into her eyes, so vulnerable, so completely open with her desire… If I could only-

“Show me then.”

Without another word I grabbed her thighs, aligning myself in front of her entrance. Could I really do this? Sex never meant anything to me other than to relieve myself, maybe seduce one or another aristocratic lady into telling me the newest rumors in Cradle… But what about now? Is reaching my goal still the only reason? Then why is my heart beating so fast and why… Why do I want this to mean more for her too? I laid my lips upon hers as I slowly pushed myself inside of her. 

This is not sex, this is more. So, so much more. She moaned my name when I started to move, clinging tightly to me and I kept kissing her. Whatever happens, princess, I hope this will make you understand. Please, please understand that nothing about this is a facade. This I could never fake with you. 

Right now you are completely mine and I am yours. And I wished you always were.

Her nails dug into my back, waves of pleasure shooting through every fibre of my being and I moaned into her mouth, unable to hold back any longer. My thrusts became harder, out of rhythm and we melted into one another. Wanting her to finish before me, my fingers found my way to her clit again, rubbing her as if my life depended on it. Please, please enjoy this as much as I do.

“Please cum for me, princess-!”

Laura tightened around me and I slammed my hand on the counter, one, two final thrusts and I came undone inside of her, shaking as I held her against me, leaning on the counter.

We basked in the afterglow of our lovemaking. Yes, lovemaking, I didn’t know any other word for it. I kissed her gently, still holding her close so I could enjoy the feeling of being inside her warmth as long as possible.

“Dalim?”

“Mhm?”

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this.”

Oh, princess.

If I could love you… I’d be the happiest man on earth.

[some-cookie-crumbz]

Sparking up Something

Sparking up Something Fandom: My Hero Academia Pairing: DabiTwice Summary: DabiTwice Week Day 1 Prompt Fill: There are a couple of things about the summer that cause problems. The heat always leaves Jin’s skin crawling and prickling, his anxiety ramping up. He doesn’t like the heat, doesn’t like what it represents. Which is strange, considering his boyfriend is the living embodiment of smoldering coals. Standard Disclaimer: If you read and enjoy this, please give it a like/ reblog so I know if I should write more.

Trigger Warning: Mentions of Child Abuse, Mentions of Domestic Abuse

Fireworks, Jin thought, probably weren’t the best thing for them, as the League of Villains, to be indulging in.

Meanwhile, his alter thought this was an absolutely splendid idea! Perhaps they would catch something ablaze and make a nice little ruckus! Add some real excitement to this miserable summer evening!

He could feel his hand starting to twitch against the lawn chair he was sitting in, wishing he had his mask on. But with how miserable the heat was, wearing his mask was a sure fire way to give himself heatstroke. And he really didn’t want to spoil everyone else’s good night by passing out like a complete ass.

The heat was something he’d never been good at dealing with, admittedly. Ever since he was a kid.

Pa and Ma were simple folks, for all intents and purposes, so their living arrangements had never been anything glamorous. A lot of things about his parents had been simple, when he stopped to think about it. They were a simple couple married in a rush because they were expecting him and their resentment at him for that was always present. Pa was much more vocal and open about it, taking any small mistake as a chance to bruise his only child’s body and mind as viciously as he possibly could. Ma showed it in her lack of attentiveness, in how she would ignore his pleads for help while Pa loomed over him, slurring out ever curse imaginable. The love between them had been gone long before he was born, Jin knew, and their marriage was for appearances.

The summer was always when things in the family home became their most unbearable. The squaller they lived in meant their rundown homes were often small heating units, raising the temperature and hostility. There were more times than not he’d walk in the door to his parents having themselves about furious round, which always dissolved into a match between him and Pa instead. Sometimes just because he came in too loud, sometimes because Ma would lie that he’d fucked up somehow, but it always went that way.

A lot of those days, he’d lay in bed not knowing what was sweat from the heat and what was blood from his wounds.

He felt his arm visibly jerk as Toga released an excited squeal as Compress presented a wide variety of fireworks, mind snapping back to the present. Pilfered, most likely, as Shigaraki would most likely not spend their limited funds on them. Well, unless Spinner caught him in a particularly good mood and coaxed him, anyway. He reached up to wipe some of the beading sweat from his brow and had to do a double-take when his hand came back smeared with red. His breathes became frantic as his vision flickered back and force with ever blink.

Red. Clear. Red. Clear. Red. Red! RED! RED! RED RED RED RE-!

“Hey, up here,” A familiar voice drawled, surprisingly soft and careful, tearing Jin’s eyes away from his hand to eyes a hypnotic, oceanic blue. They simply held eye contact for a few beats as Jin’s mind struggled to catch up with him.

He was on the roof of an abandoned building with the other League members.

They were going to be shooting off fireworks because why the fuck not.

He was 31 years old. Not seven.

He was at the top of a building. Not in a closet hiding. Not strapped to a chair in his apartment.

“Dabi,” he breathed after he wasn’t sure how long, his words cracking a bit.

Blue eyes glint in amusement before he flopped over into the empty chair beside Jin. “Good to have you back with us,” he said, holding one hand out to him again. In either hand he was holding a dripping glass bottled drink. Non-alcoholic, he noted, as he reached out with shaking fingers to take it.

Compress had most likely insisted it, to keep Toga from having something she shouldn’t. He made a mental note to thank him for that later.

The cold, wet surface helped to ground him in the moment further. “Thank you,” Dabi made a noise of acknowledgement as he popped off the top of his drink with one of his rings. Twice did the same, taking a quick sip of his bottle. The drink was cold and more sugar than anything but it would do the trick. “I’m sorry. I just... Got lost. In my head.”

“You don’t need to explain if you don’t want to,” Dabi said with a shrug as he shifted to be more comfortable, hunching in his seat a bit. “We’ve discussed the fact that we both had shitty parents. Just... Is it the fireworks that set you off?”

He shook his head. “If it was that, I would have said so sooner,” He glanced up, grey eyes staring up as the first firework - as far as he was aware, anyway - was sent into the air, erupting in a flicker of silver lights. “It’s the heat. Gets in my head.”

“Heat bothers you?” There wasn’t any accusation or disbelief in the other’s voice, just genuine concern. For as much as the darker haired man liked to play off as aloof and unperturbed, Jin knew better. That was just a front designed from fear. He feared being rejected for who he really was, for expressing his feelings too much, as it had happened before. He didn’t give away too many more details, but it was enough for Jin to know.

He, too, was someone whose parents had resented who he was.

“More the humidity, I think,” Jin said, shifting his drink to his other hand and reaching out. He let his fingers curl tentatively around the other’s wrist, hesitant to go straight for his hand proper. “Can’t really wear my mask so... You know. Mind going way too fast. Your heat doesn’t bother me. I know you’d never use your flames on me.”

The other stared at his hand for a moment before moving his hand to lace their fingers. “Good,” he mumbled, though Jin wasn’t entirely sure how to take it. Good that he knew Dabi’s flames would never hurt him? Or good that it was more the humidity that bothered him?

He opted against thinking too hard on it. Instead, he focused on the warmth of Dabi’s hand in his, of the lukewarm staples pressing into his skin, and just existing in that moment.

[bluenet13]

A Bloody Mess

Written for @badthingshappenbingo

Fandom: SEAL Team.

Characters: Sonny Quinn, Lisa Davis, Clay Spenser, Stella Baxter.

Prompt: Bloodstained Clothes.

Summary:  Lisa and Clay are always a phone call away. Especially when his relationship is on the rocks again and Sonny ends up in the middle of a fight after trying to drown his sorrows at a bar.

Links: ff.net - AO3

When Lisa's phone rang, her first thought was Sonny. But then she remembered the night before, how her application to join Echo Team had been denied, and the conversation that had followed. Her heart aching as she realized that Sonny wouldn't be calling her anymore, at least for things not related to national security.

Letting it ring, Lisa figured if it was important enough they would call again. She wasn't really in the mood to deal with anyone and it was her day off.

After a few minutes of silence, Lisa sighed, thinking that it was probably a spam call or one of the Bravo boys taking the hint that she wasn't available. But, not three minutes later, the phone rang again so Lisa ran to the kitchen counter where she had left it charging.

Instinctually, Lisa almost grabbed her work bag at the same time as she finally decided to pick the call, but ended up just frowning, hand falling to her side, as she saw the name pop up on her screen. It wasn't the base that's for sure.

"Hi, Stella," Lisa greeted the woman on the other end of the line, grateful that this was just a phone call so she didn't have to fake a smile, along with her cheerful tone. "Is everything okay? Clay alright?" She couldn't help but ask.

"Hi, Lisa… Yeah, Clay's okay. Well, most of him anyways," a nervous laugh escaped Stella and Lisa's frown deepened. "But, it's Sonny, I'm calling about…"

Taking in a deep breath, Lisa drew her hand down her face, because of course it had to be Sonny.

"Have you seen him?" Stella asked nervously as Lisa failed to say anything to her previous comment.

"Not since yesterday," Lisa explained, "when I left Ray's house, the boys were still there, and I don't know what happened afterwards. We haven't spoken since."

"Umm, okay, okay," Stella sounded nervous, and Lisa desperately needed to know what had happened, but she also knew she needed to get some distance from Sonny, regardless of how much it hurt. "Well, thanks anyways. Let us know if you hear from him."

"Wait, Stella," Lisa practically shouted. But then fell quiet. Things with Sonny were complicated, as complicated as they had ever been, but she couldn't just turn off her feelings for him. Sonny had her heart, and deep down she knew whatever happened, she would never be able to stop caring about him. "What happened? What's wrong?"

Stella didn't answer right away, instead Lisa could hear shuffling and whispering, or more like hissing, coming from the other side.

"Davis," another voice said after a few minutes. Clay. Of course he was there.

"Spencer," Lisa muttered, not surprised that whatever trouble Sonny was in, Clay was involved too. "What's going on?"

"I'm sorry to call you, I know this might not be what you wanted," Clay said, sounding genuinely apologetic. "I was about to head to Sonny's apartment but Stella suggested we check in with you first."

"Okay," Lisa said simply. Not really surprised that Clay already seemed to know what had happened between her and Sonny the day before. But as much was obvious from his tone. "Clay, what happened?"

"Um, well…"

"Clay! Get on it with it," Lisa hissed.

"Okay, okay, sorry. It's just… Sonny called me last night, like an hour after the rest of us left Ray's house. He didn't sound okay and there were too many voices around for him to be at home, so I asked where he was. He was at a bar. Not one we had been to before. I could hear shouting too. But anyhow, I met him there. And there might have been a fight at some point after that…" Clay's voice cut abruptly, and more angry whispering could be heard on the line.

"Give me the phone, you're taking too long," Stella chided, before she obviously took the phone from Clay. "Sorry, Lisa. The point is Clay went to meet Sonny at the bar, and they ended up in a fight." Stella was trying to sound casual, but her voice was too tight to sound fully natural, and it only told Lisa that she didn't yet know the specifics of said fight. "Afterwards Clay tried to get Sonny to come to the apartment with him, but he refused. They just got an Uber together instead and Clay asked the driver to drop Sonny off first. So we know he made it home, but now we can reach him."

"I've been trying to talk to him all morning, but he's not picking up," Clay resumed the explanation, practically giving Lisa whiplash from all the jumping between the two. "We just thought maybe you had heard from him. But you haven't. So I will just go to his apartment. Thanks and, again, sorry for calling."

"Clay, I'll go."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, I live closer to him anyways."

"Okay," Clay agreed easily, his tone betraying that he didn't believe for one second that was the only reason why Lisa wanted to be the one to check up on Sonny.

"Keep us posted, please," Stella added, to which Lisa promised to call back when she knew more, before ending the call.

Sighing, Lisa closed her eyes for a second as she tried to tamper down her emotions. God knows she was really making an effort to respect the rules and get away from Sonny on a personal level, but he just kept reeling her in. She couldn't really say she minded, but Bravo was already under the microscope, and they couldn't further jeopardize all their careers.

But, Sonny was in trouble, so none of that was important now. So, grabbing her purse and keys, Lisa wasted no time in going to his aid, because regardless of the status of their relationship, she would always move heaven and earth to save him; and whether that be from Tangos in foreign lands, or from his own self-destructive tendencies at home, didn't really matter.

-x-x-x-

Not fifteen minutes later, having broken more than a few speed limits in the process, Lisa reached Sonny's apartment and the first thing she noticed was the door being unlocked. Getting closer, Lisa tentatively pushed it open and stepped inside. Feeling a small amount of relief when she found the living room seemingly undisturbed. But her worry returning as soon as she realized Sonny was nowhere in sight.

"Sonny?" Lisa asked, walking further into the familiar apartment.

Getting no answer, Lisa went to Sonny's room but found the bed not slept in, which she was sure of because Sonny was not the type to make his bed before first getting breakfast, and the kitchen had been similarly unused. "Sonny?" She called again, louder this time. But she met only silence.

Moving to Sonny's bathroom Lisa found it empty too and her worry began to increase as she realized that so far she hadn't seen his keys or wallet either. For a brief moment she wondered if maybe Sonny had contacted another member of the team, like Trent since he was the medic. But all further questions flew out of her mind as soon as she noticed the first droplets of blood on the living room floor. Following the path, Lisa reached the last place she had not searched yet.

"Sonny?" Lisa asked again, as she got close to the guest bathroom. The door was slightly ajar but the sight didn't look inviting at all. Lisa couldn't really explain why, until she saw what looked suspiciously like a bloody handprint on the otherwise white wood.

Her mind in overdrive, Lisa pushed the door open and gasped as soon as she saw Sonny collapsed on the bathroom floor, blood soaking the tile and pooling under him. His clothes were so bloody that Lisa wondered how she hadn't seen a blood trail as soon as she came into the apartment, or maybe she had, and her mind had just tried to protect her by blocking the sight until it just couldn't do it anymore.

"Hey, Sonny, wake up," Lisa said as soon as she was kneeling next to him, doing her best to avoid all the blood on the floor. But Sonny didn't answer or even stir.

Running back to Sonny's room, Lisa grabbed the medkit that he kept in his bathroom before she again kneeled next to him. Slowly, she lifted Sonny's hand from where it was pressed to his side, quickly having noticed this was the bloodiest spot on his shirt, and instantly cursed when she noticed the very obvious stab wound.

"Damn it, Sonny," she said to herself. "And damn you, Clay." Because how could he not have realized this would need stitches and probably antibiotics too, just to be safe.

Trying to be careful but effective, Lisa grabbed gauze and pushed down on the gushing wound, attempting to halt the flow of blood, because seeing how much of it was currently on the floor and on Sonny's jeans and shirt, Lisa knew he couldn't afford to lose any more of it.

Lisa's movements must have been careful enough because Sonny didn't wake through it all, but as soon as she began packing the wound, he began to stir and grunt. His eyes flying open as soon as Lisa pushed the gauze further in.

"Stay there, don't move," Lisa said through gritted teeth as soon as Sonny tried to move away. She hated to cause Sonny pain, of the physical kind at least, because she knew the day before she had caused him a lot of emotional ache. But she knew enough of first aid, from her own training and also Trent, to recognize she needed to pack the wound to stop further hemorrhaging.

"Lisa?" Sonny asked, eyes now at half-mast, his breathing coming in small puffs of air, except when he gasped every time Lisa pushed more gauze into the wound. "What are you doing here?"

"I should be asking you that question, Sonny," Lisa argued, barely able to suppress her anger, "you should be in a hospital!"

"No need, I took care of it," Sonny explained, a sad imitation of a grin on his face.

"Does this look taken care of?" Lisa hissed, lifting a bloody towel to show Sonny how not taken care of this really was. "You're lucky you didn't bleed out! Of all the stupid things… I swear I will kill you myself if you ever pull a stunt like this again." Lisa continued to rant, even as she never stopped working, finishing packing the wound before taping the gauze in place and moving to check the rest of Sonny.

"Okay, maybe not taken care of," Sonny admitted softly, letting out a nervous chuckle. "But, don't be mad," he whined, looking up at Lisa as his eyes began to flutter shut. "I don't like it when you're mad with me."

"Don't you dare pass out on me, Sonny Quinn," Lisa threatened, "and if you don't want me to be mad, then stop doing stupid shit like this!"

"I'm sorry," Sonny said with a pained exhale, "didn't mean to get into the fight, just wanted a drink…"

"Didn't you have enough drinks at Ray's?" Lisa asked incredulously, even as she knew she was the reason he needed more.

At that, Sonny just shrugged, letting his eyes finally close.

"Sonny!" Lisa shouted, shaking him awake, and gently slapping his cheeks.

Opening his eyes, Sonny tried to focus on Lisa, throwing her his best apologetic look, but his eyes began to flutter again. "Sorry, tired," he mumbled.

"Come on, please Sonny you got to stay awake," Lisa begged.

Finally convinced that the worst of the wounds was treated for now, and Sonny wouldn't bleed out in front of her, Lisa took her phone out of her pocket and searched her favorites list for Trent's number. But a weak hand on her arm stopped her so she looked down.

"What are you doing?" Sonny asked weakly.

"What do you think I'm doing? I'm calling Trent, then I'm calling 9-1-1," Lisa snapped.

"No, don't call Trent. I'm okay. And, the team can't know about this." Sonny explained weekly, using his remaining strength to try to lift himself from the floor, but he only made it a few inches before he collapsed again, ending up slumped in between the sink and wall.

"Sonny how do you expect to hide this?" Lisa asked, gesturing to his body.

"And this," a voice said from the door, and both Sonny and Lisa turned to find Stella pointing at Clay's black eye, and split lip.

"How can we help?" Clay said at the same time as Stella spoke, his key to Sonny's apartment still held tightly on his hand.

"I think you already helped enough," Lisa quipped, looking at Clay with accusatory eyes.

"I, um…" Clay ran his hand through his hair, wincing when he got too far down and bumped the bruise on his eye. The explanation of what had happened was something for Sonny to share with Lisa, so with nothing to say, Clay just ignored her and moved forward, kneeling on Sonny's other side and beginning to pack and wrap a smaller wound.

"It's not his fault," Sonny said.

"The hell it's not!" Lisa all but shouted, "why is it you two always end up in trouble together?"

Clay and Sonny shared a brief look at the question, both shrugging because they didn't have a good answer.

"Clay was only helping," Sonny explained, his voice barely above a whisper. "I got into a fight at this bar, and even I have self-preservation enough to know I wouldn't get far against seven. They were blocking the exit so I hid in the bathroom and called Clay."

"And you just showed up, just like that?" Lisa couldn't help but ask.

"Yes," Stella said simply.

"Of course," Clay said at the same time, his tone basically asking how could he not.

"So, yeah, Clay showed up and I was still locked inside the bathroom," Sonny stopped as he began to stumble on his words, "he tried to get the men to back down and leave us alone. Apologized for whatever had happened. But then I heard a crash and Clay grunting. I got out, and well, a fight broke out. And one of them must have had a knife." He ended the explanation with a hopeless shrug.

"I'm sorry I couldn't stop this from happening," Clay said sincerely, looking at Lisa, "but this is the first time I'm hearing anything about knives. My guys were all fists," he explains, pointing to his black eye.

"A lot of fists apparently," Stella added, stepping close to Clay, and lifting his shirt to show various hand-shaped bruises on his abdomen.

Uncomfortable with the attention, Clay pushed his shirt back down and continued working on Sonny's injuries. Now gently prodding the bruising on his friend's stomach, trying to determine if they should also be worried about internal injuries or broken ribs.

"Lisa, did you already call Trent or should I?" Stella asked with a wince, needing to feel useful but also feeling sympathetic towards her boyfriend and his best friend, because Trent wouldn't be a happy man when he set his eyes on them.

"No Trent," Sonny said again.

"Come on, Sonny. Even you must be smart enough to know we can hide this from the team. They will find out eventually," Clay retorted.

"Bravo is already in hot water. Can't make it worse," Sonny tried to argue.

"Okay, we can figure out what to do about the team later, but I'm calling 9-1-1 now," Lisa said, stopping any further discussion and already beginning to dial.

"Can you just put in some stitches? I don't care if the scar is pretty," Sonny begged.

"Maybe last night, but now you also need a transfusion and antibiotics. Too bad you didn't think it important enough to ask for help when this happened," Lisa pointed out.

Grunting, Sonny let his head fall into his chest, knowing that he wasn't winning this argument.

"I'll go make the call. Stella, keep an eye on these two and make sure they don't make any more dumb choices," Lisa said, even as she sent a grateful look Clay's way. Because even with Stella back in the picture, Clay had dropped everything and got himself into a fight just to help Sonny. And Lisa was sincerely thankful knowing that Clay would always be the one standing alongside her on Sonny's self-destructive corner.

Stella just nodded but said nothing, and as Lisa walked out, she had the decency to silently wonder if maybe she should have asked the other woman to call instead. Stella was looking a little green, and her stomach must have been queasy at the sight and smell of all the blood. Another reminder that this world she had chosen was really different to hers, but showing this time she was fully committed to making it work because her love for Clay was greater than her fears.

"Ambulance should be here soon," Lisa said as soon as she stepped back into the room, instantly going back to the floor and sitting next to Sonny. And, against her better judgment, intertwining their fingers together.

"Thank you," Sonny whispered, squeezing her hand weakly.

"Anytime, Sonny, anytime," Lisa promised. And even if the previous day had again shaken their dreams and thrown new hurdles their way, Lisa was certain those words would always be nothing but the truth.

A knock on the door broke the moment, as everyone moved back into action. Stella going to open the door for the paramedics, and Clay moving to Sonny's room to grab his go bag and some clean clothes so he could later change out of the bloodstained ones, while Lisa stayed right by Sonny's side.

With the two stab wounds already packed and their patient stable enough, the paramedics made quick work of loading Sonny into a stretcher and wheeling him down to the waiting ambulance. Lisa, Clay and Stella following close behind.

As they reached the parking lot, Clay and Stella stood to the side while Sonny was moved into the ambulance, Lisa jumping in after him, her posture and scowl daring the paramedics to object. Both Clay and Stella ready to get in her car and follow them to the hospital.

Just before the double doors to the ambulance closed, Lisa looked back at Clay and mouthed a silent thank you. Because as it turned out she wasn't the only one ready to move heaven and earth to keep Sonny safe.

Silently, Clay nodded nonchalantly, moving closer to Stella and drawing her to him. Holding his girlfriend's hand, Clay nodded again, a smile on his face. His eyes telling Lisa all that his words weren't. There was a lot to figure out and Lisa still needed to learn the specifics of what had happened at the bar and to remind Sonny that he needed to take better care of himself, not only for them, but also for his unborn child. But at that moment, Lisa truly believed that in the end everything would be okay. All the proof she needed was standing right in front of her, because just a year ago Clay and Stella seemed impossible, but here they were. And someday in the future, Sonny and Lisa would be too.

[fanficsforheartandsoul]

Haunted | [Darth Maul x Fem!Reader x Savage Opress]

Notes: 

Lol I said only 1k per request but well… I got too invested xD

Haha, it happened again xD I hope this is somehow what you expected, Anon. Thank you for your request!

Fandoms: Star Wars, The Clone Wars

Warnings: Angst, Death, Alcohol Use, Mention of Rape, Slight OOC, Fluff

Summary: Some men follow Y/N after she got drunk at a bar. She’s not capable of protecting herself but thankfully she has two knights with red lightsabers who take care of her pursuers..

Word Count: 2′262

Taglist: @princessayveke​

If you want to be tagged in my stories send me a pm with the fandom/character name! Or comment on the fic :)

Masterlist

This is loosely based off my  Cold Skins and Warm Hearts  oneshot!

They hadn't seen each other for a long time. 

Well, it was understandable, the brothers were at one end of the galaxy, causing havoc for the Republic, while she was laying low somewhere on Corellia. 

But although all three of them were busy, they thought of each other from time to time. The brothers more often than her though. 

They could not forget their last encounter, the feelings still too prominent. They needed an answer. 

What feelings did the woman have for them? Were they indeed just platonic? 

So it was no wonder that they actively searched for her. 

And albeit she was trying to lay low, they found her rather easily because of her force presence. Both of the Zabrak could not forget its radiating pull after all. 

But when the brothers found her, they also encountered annoying pests. 

Obviously, they would get rid of them immediately. 

-

Y/N did not have the energy for any trouble today. 

She had been feeling unsafe for a week now, but she wrote it off as her being paranoid after all the things she had gone through. 

It wasn't a mystery she knew she had some trauma after having fought for the Jedi for so long. Her nightmares were proof of that. 

Usually, she wouldn't have tried to find comfort at the bottom of a bottle, but after feeling so stressed out, the fiery heat of Corellian Whiskey felt satisfying in her throat. 

She did drink more than she should have, though. 

But there was no one to tell her to stop, she was her own master now, and she enjoyed it. 

But when she stumbled home, her hand on her lightsaber, while her head spun, she did not expect to be followed. 

She didn't notice at first, her attention muddled from all the alcohol. But after somebody walked by, and rudely bumped into her, Y/N felt a little less smashed, and therefore she noticed the eyes on her that followed her body's every move. An uncomfortable feeling rose in her stomach, and she turned her head slightly to look if somebody was pursuing her, but she was too intoxicated to see clearly. 

The streets in her district were all dimly lit, and only the cantinas and occasional dancer bars had flickering neon lights, which made it hardly possible to see the faces of the few people who were still awake at this hour. 

But she could feel that someone was tailing her. 

Her hand automatically reached for her lightsaber, but there was nothing at her hip. 

Fuck, I didn't take it with me! 

She cursed inwardly and quickened her pace. 

The knowledge of being watched sobered her up enough to remember that she didn't have that many options anymore when it came to a fight. The force wasn't with her any longer. 

Y/N hadn't been able to use it for a few weeks now, that's why she had decided to move away from the Outer Rims where the chance of getting into a fight was much higher. 

But maybe she had made the wrong choice with Corellia. 

The woman knew that she couldn't possibly hold her guard against several attackers while she was drunk. Hence, she could only flee. 

As soon as she turned around a corner, she began to run. 

Genuine fear trickled through her veins, and the former Jedi felt nauseous. 

If she got caught... 

She had a good idea of what could happen and desperately wished that it wouldn't come that far. 

Her breath quickened, she knew she was close to a panic attack, and she dreaded it. 

Y/N saw the familiar green glow of the bar one block away from her small run-down apartment, and she breathed out in relief, only to catch her foot in a pothole and crash face down onto the pavement. 

Her whole world spun, and she knew she was only a few seconds away from throwing up when she heard footsteps approach the alley she had just turned into. 

Fuck, here we go. 

She struggled to get on her knees when a gloved hand suddenly materialized before her, and a deep soothing voice said: 

"Do you need help?" 

She tilted her head upwards and could make out a tall figure with horns. 

"Sa-Savage?" 

Her voice was weak, and before she could even think about why the Zabrak was here, she wheezed and crumbled, her adrenaline rush and fear too overbearing that she fell unconscious.

-

Maul and Savage hadn't expected to see the woman, who had entranced them both, in such a miserable state. 

They had been following her to the bar, trying to come up with a plausible reason why they suddenly showed up, their pride too big to actually just tell the true reason. 

Savage just wanted to walk right in there and say hi, but his older brother wanted to follow the woman some more from the shadows. 

Something was different about her, and they would find out what it was. 

So they waited, waited for a very long time. 

"She seems to be quite a drinker", commented Savage, surprised about the revelation. 

Both of them wouldn't have expected that. 

Y/N L/N didn't seem like a big fan of alcohol. To tell the truth, if they remembered correctly, she had rejected the wine when they had met for the third time. 

So it seemed rather weird for the former Jedi to suddenly go and visit a bar to drink. 

But neither of them knew what had happened to the woman in the last few months, so they couldn't judge if something was wrong with her. 

They loitered around in a small alley from where they had a good view of the bar's entrance. Savage almost fell asleep when his brother gave him a shove, and he stood up out of reflex. 

Maul pressed a finger to his lips and pointed at a small figure leaving the bar. 

Both could immediately feel the connection they had somehow established that one night on Ilum. The emotions from their connection felt weirdly numb. 

Savage frowned, and the two used the force to jump on the small building to get a better view of Y/N. 

If they followed her directly she would probably notice them too soon, and they wanted to avoid that. Although it seemed unlikely that the former Jedi would spot them. 

The woman walked like a sailor, she staggered forward, clearly having drunk too much for her good. 

Worry sprouted in both the brothers' chests, and they followed her silently. Y/N followed the main road, but then she suddenly froze.

It was only for a second, but her head turned back as if she was searching for something. Maul immediately noticed what she was looking for. 

A group of men loafed in a dark corner and ogled the woman hungrily. They seemed to discuss something, and right when Y/N turned back around and started to move faster, they left their corner and began to pursue her. 

Maul concentrated on the force, and he could feel the malicious intentions of the group. 

"...Let's get her today, I know her usual route and..." 

His eyes darkened considerably, anger burned in his chest, and he said with a growling undertone: 

"You go get her, I'm going to crush some insects." 

Savage eyed him from the side, but when he followed the other Zabrak's nod and heard a snippet of the men's conversation, his expression turned sour too, and he snarled: 

"Leave some for me, brother." 

Maul rolled his shoulder, and right before Savage jumped to the next building, he uttered: 

"No promises, these bastards made a mistake I can't forgive." 

He jumped down the building and landed silently right behind a closed food stall.

The men noticed how Y/N turned around a corner, and they hastily followed her. He did too. 

He stalked them like prey, contemplating whether using his lightsaber to obliterate these bugs would cause him more satisfaction than his fists. 

They rounded another corner when they began to run, and Maul decided now was the time to strike. He used the force to close the distance between him and the five men. 

His yellow eyes glistened with rage, but the Zabrak tried to restrain himself. 

"Good evening, gentlemen", he greeted them with a silky voice. 

They turned around abruptly, definitely not liking his sudden appearance. 

"What do you want?", asked one of them annoyed. 

He was a dirty looking human with bleary eyes. He wasn't the only one who seemed to have drunk too much. 

The alcohol plume around the men stank terribly, and Maul snarled in disgust. 

"Oh, I only wanted to inform you that you shall not live to see the dawn in the next few hours." 

Before one of them could even react, he had clenched his raised hand to a fist, and the only Twi'lek of the group began to cough and grab his throat. He crushed the man's windpipe, while his friends shouted in disbelief and shock. 

Maul sneered at their cowardice, and he gleefully wiped out their lives and disgusting plans they had harbored for his love. 

"How dare you look at Y/N with such disgusting thoughts!", he lost his cool and punched one of the men repeatedly, not even showing mercy when the men's face was completely bashed in. 

The noise of breaking bones and their blood-curling screams resounded in the alley, but no one came looking. 

"How convenient", muttered Maul and shook his fist, but then he changed his mind. 

The ignorance of the Corellians might have killed Y/N if he and his brother hadn't shown up. 

The burning fury in his chest did not diminish, instead, it burned even brighter, and he couldn't stop himself from crushing one of the dead men's skull under his boot. 

The crunch calmed him down a little, and he wiped his shoe at one of the other dead bodies. 

Satisfied, Maul turned, and he strode into the alley where Y/N had disappeared, only to see the woman crumble and fall right into his brother's arms. 

"Y/N!" both he and Savage shouted at the same time, full of worry. 

-

When she woke up, she was wrapped in a warm embrace. Her head pounded, and she frowned in pain. 

Where am I? What happened? 

She turned her head only to look straight into Darth Maul's face, the Zabrak she had kissed only a few months ago. 

She blinked, then noticed the arm on her hip didn't belong to Maul. 

A sigh escaped her lips, and she could imagine what had happened. 

It didn't really surprise her to see the brothers, although it probably should have. But it wasn't the first time where they just showed up out of nowhere. 

Y/N breathed out slowly and right when she wanted to sit up, a deep voice muttered: 

"You're awake." 

She turned to her left, Savage's sunflower eyes boring straight into her. 

"Hi", he whispered breathlessly, and she couldn't stop herself from grinning weakly. 

"Kind of a weak greeting, if we think about the fact that we're laying in bed together, wouldn’t you say?" 

The Zabrak's cheeks tinted, and her grin widened. 

The younger brother had a shy side to himself, and she loved it. Mainly because it was such a huge contrast to his tall and intimidating looks. But then he grabbed her hip tighter, and she couldn't stop herself from shrieking. 

His face was suddenly way too close, and he eyed her lips with a somewhat hungry look. 

"Are you suggesting something?", he whispered, and his deep voice resonated in her ears. 

A pleasant shiver ran down her spine but then a voice interrupted them: 

"Savage." 

It was only a single word from his brother, but both the yellow Zabrak and Y/N could hear the threatening undertone and the warning in it. 

She turned again, and Maul squinted his eyes at her. 

"Good to see you too", she mocked, and he lifted an eyebrow. 

"Is it?" 

The mattress dipped behind her when Savage shifted and supported his head on his arm. 

"Would you mind explaining why you drowned yourself in alcohol only to almost get raped?" 

Y/N stiffened, she remembered the last week of feeling unsafe, and she couldn't stop herself from sinking deeper into the bed, her shoulders quivering slightly. 

"I-I was...", she tried to find some words to explain, but the fact that Maul's angry words held so much truth hit her right in the gut. 

She could have been raped. Or kidnapped and killed. 

She remembered her sad attempts of using the force but not succeeding, and she blinked, tears forming in her eyes. She stared at the ceiling of the brother's spaceship, not noticing how Maul's anger turned into worry, and both brothers watched her with burning gazes. 

"Don't worry", said Savage finally, "you're safe now." 

Maul brushed a strand of hair out of her face and Savage wiped her left eye just in case. 

Y/N breathed out slowly, her voice shaky when she muttered: 

"Thanks, guys. I'm really happy to see you again." 

Both Zabrak flashed a grin and then the younger asked: 

"What to sleep some more? You seem to need it." 

She nodded and yawned as if to confirm his words. 

Y/N smiled and warmth spread in her chest, when they wrapped their arms around her again. 

Both brothers simultaneously tilted their heads to give her a kiss on her forehead, but what she didn't notice was the jealous glares they sent each other when they moved back. 

"Sleep some more, Y/N. We got you."