#even when he's screaming? attacking people? being mad? he's just sounds Tired??????

[daz4i]

listen i can excuse bad voice acting sometimes esp in dubs bc it’s harder to get right with timing and such. but not when it’s my baby boy oh my god they massacred chuuya

[wlfhrdlover]

Could you do an ajax x fem!reader where the reader clinically suffers from ptsd and Rowan keeps on doing her triggers (Making loud hitting sounds etc) when they're all in the nightshades meeting and thats the reason why everyone kicked him off the group and ajax is protecting the reader. just general fluff tbh

I'll write it based on my experience around loud noises, so I'm sorry if you don't like it </3

also, I feel like that Ajax is the "i'm always calm and happy but you mess with her and I'll fuck you up" type of boyfriend, idk.

LOUD

Ajax Petropolus x fem!reader

summary: Rowan pushed Ajax's buttons in a Nightshades meeting.

WARNINGS! mentions of violence, PTSD, abusive parents, kinda of a panic attack, asshole!Rowan, reader is a shadow manipulator (please message me if I forgot something).

Rowan was loud when he wanted and you knew it, you and Rowan never got along very well, in your first day you thought that you two would be best friends or at least friends, both being quiet and never getting lucky around people.

But you were wrong, Rowan was mean, really mean. One time he found out about your fear towards loud noises, reason unknown for him, but it was enough to give him something to use against you.

But you were wrong, Rowan was mean, really mean. One time he found out about your fear towards loud noises, reason unknown for him, but it was enough to give him something to use against you.

At first, you thought it was accidental how he would always clap his hands near to your ear or how things would fall right on your side, making you jump and heart race with the loud noise. Then, you figured out that it was just Rowan showing how much of a bully he could be.

The worst times was when you were in the Nightshades meeting, when the library echoed the loud noises and it always took you out of guard, you always ended up throwing up when you walked back to your dorm.

You didn't know why Rowan didn't like you, but you never tried to find out too, Rowan scared you.

Even though you never talked about it, people around you noticed how Rowan would always smirk when he made you jump or when he got a glance of the tears pooling in your eyes. Who noticed it first though was your boyfriend, Ajax Petropolus.

Sometimes he would glare at Rowan whenever he saw how his lips curved, the boy quickly walking away when Ajax approached you, honestly, Ajax was getting tired of it, he hated to see you so shaken up because of someone like Rowan.

Today though was really complicated, you didn't had the best day and you were oddly more jumpy than normal, now you were in your daily Nightshades meeting, Kent was rambling about something that happened on his swimming time and you just smiled softly trying to comfort him, but your smile quickly dropped when a loud noise echoed inside of your head.

Something similar to a belt and it took you completely out of guard, suddenly your mind flew back to your house and principally to your father.

When Ajax heard the sound his eyes quickly darted to Rowan and he was mad, really mad, Rowan was almost laughing at your face.

— Dude what the fuck is your problem?- Ajax groaned throwing the book on his hand towards Rowan's back.

— My bad- Rowan sarcastically said.

— You need to stop doing that Rowan, seriously- Bianca sent a glare to the boy.

Suddenly the library started to get dark and cold, way too dark and Ajax knew exactly who it was, his eyes quickly turning to you.

His blood boiled when he caught the sight of your eyes wide open, your hands shaking and tears rolling down your cheek.

— Rowan get out of my sight right now- Ajax said between his teeth.

— And don't come back, you're out of the Nightshades- Bianca warned and Rowan simply rolled his eyes and walked out.

Ajax quickly made his way towards you.

Your mind was racing, flashes of your father and his belt, the screams, you trying to beg for him to stop.

"You never know how to keep your mouth shut", "SHUT THE FUCK UP OR I'LL MAKE YOU".

When a warm hand held your arm, your legs failed and you fell down, almost crumbling, the shadows around you getting more and more darker, you wanted to be swallowed by them, just disappear.

But your mind was fogged, so when you only saw Ajax's hands lifting to take your hair out of your face, out of instinct you pulled away.

— I'm sorry, I'm sorry, don't hit me please- you cried and Ajax's heart broke completely.

— Love, it's me, it's only me, I'm not going to hit you- he calmly said and kneeled in front of you- It's just you and me now love, no one is going to hurt you again, I'm right here my love- he said.

Your mind slowly started to get back in place, his grip on you never left but you could barely feel it as he held you so gently to not startle you more.

— It's okay sweet girl, just let it out, I'll hold you- he whispered and you cried, you completely broke down in front of him- I'm gonna hug you, is that okay?- he asked and you nodded, he slowly pulled you in his embrace, your head resting on his chest as he caressed your back, your body relaxed on his.

Ajax was so gentle with you, when he noticed how horrified you were of loud noises, he would always arrange your dates in quiet places, bring headphones with him everywhere in case you needed it and always offering his care to calm you down.

You were so grateful to have him with you, he never tried to question about your fear because he knew it was a sensitive topic for you, so the only thing he did was be there for you, whenever you needed and wherever you needed.

He was there.

Ajax was always there.

— Just me and you love, just me and you- he whispered and when you fully calmed down he asked Yoko to bring a cup of water- Give me your hand my love- he asked and you held his hand tightly.

Ajax helped you up, his arm still around your body, your friends looking at you worriedly but smiling softly to assure you that was okay.

Yoko came with a cup of water and Ajax let go of your hand to help you drink it since you were still shaken up, even if you didn't he would help you anyways, Ajax just wanted to make sure that you were okay.

— Let's go back to my dorm and sleep, is that okay?- he whispered and you nodded gripping on his hoodie, he smiled and kissed your head- Okay, I love you my sweet girl- he said.

— I love you too Jax- you muttered.

That night, Ajax held you close to his chest, whispering sweet things in your ear to help you sleep, his hand always caressing your head, always checking to see if you were okay and if you needed anything.

Honestly, the only thing you needed was him and none of you complained about it.

extra!

Ajax made sure that Enid was distracting you when he made his way to Rowan, pulling him inside of an empty room, Rowan looked at him.

— Don't even think about it- Ajax warned and Rowan backed off- Listen to me Rowan, I noticed your little game and I'll warn you, you pull that shit again towards my girl and I'll completely fuck you up, you don't wanna see me mad Rowan, because believe me, the last thing you want to see is a mad gorgon- he said so lowly and in a scary tone that Rowan could see his life passing by his eyes- Stay away from my girlfriend and we're good, understood?- he asked.

Rowan nodded quickly and searched for his inhaler, Ajax smiled sarcastically and forcefully tapped the boy's shoulder, Rowan yelped im pain.

Ajax walked out of the room and you were walking by, your shadows almost hiding you from his view.

— Hey my love, wanna go to the botany class and see the new plants? I heard that some of them are your favorite ones- he smiled and you nodded taking his hand, he glanced at Rowan who quickly walked off.

Good.

[lily-drake]

Death

Death was nothing new in Marinette’s life.  In fact it played a large role.  Her friends and city had died a hundred times over.  Her brother.  Her funny, smart, loving, dramatic brother had died at the hands of a mad man.  She didn’t think it was wrong for her to use the horse miraculous to visit her brother's grave.  It was officially five years after all.  He would be 20, he would have loved to plan out her 16th birthday this year.  She sat down and read Pride and Prejudice out loud, only a few tears falling as she glanced at the grave every so often.  She had also brought a bouquet of white lilies, statices, red carnations, and white daisies.  Soft grass laid over the dirt, the sun gleamed above, and sometimes when she would lean against the grave it was almost like she could feel him.

Dark storm clouds began to cloud the sky, and she knew she would have to leave soon, though she didn’t want to.  Dad would be upset if he caught her, though considering how many weeds she had to remove from the grave and how abandoned it looked, she doubted anyone had visited any time soon.  Suddenly the rain began to pour down and it felt like the earth shook.  She felt a great imbalance, but where, and how?  She touched both of her ears and she could feel her miraculous still there, Tikki even poked her head out from her bag with a look of fear.  A shiver ran down Marinette’s spine as rain came pouring down soaking everything in sight.  She looked around, and she kept spinning searching for something, anything that could have caused or been affected by the imbalance.  She waited there for many minutes just waiting, when she felt the dirt beneath her feet begin to shift a little.  She quickly moved away and watched as the dirt slowly moved and shifted.  She felt sick, because the dirt moving was directly where Jason was lying in eternal rest.  This couldn’t be right, this must be some mistake!  Her brother had died, she had seen the body, it haunted her nightmares for so many nights.  He’s been gone for five years!  This can’t be possible without some type of wish.

The grass began to move and shift away, and a fleshy mud covered hand raised from the ground causing a scream to rip from her lungs.  Her body sprung into action before her mind caught up to her beginning to help dig up her brother's grave, and when she saw the jet black hair covered in dirt and mud she knew that it was him.  She heaved him out from the hole and stared in shocked horror as he just sat there staring at her.  His eyes were the same blue she remembered, but they were so clouded.  Fear, confusion, and nothing shown in his eyes, like he wasn’t even truly there.  This must be a dream, it has to be, no, a nightmare.  Her brother shouldn’t be back, he died, she saw his limp body in dad’s hands, even if Alfred and bluebird tried to stop her.  But the imbalance was real, she could tell, and he was affected by it.

Slowly she raised her hand and hesitantly placed a hand on his cheek.  He leaned into her hand, though his eyes were still clouded and void.  He may be alive, but he wasn’t fully…alive.  She tackled her older brother into a hug and began sobbing onto him, but just sat there, head leaning against hers.  Pressing her ear against his chest she could hear his gentle heartbeat, and just for a moment everything seemed like it would be ok.  Then she felt a sharp prick in her neck and the world faded to black.

________

Marinette awoke to darkness.  She tried to sit up and felt her hands held behind her back being held together by something cold and thick.  Memories flooded back into her mind and she snapped into awareness and looked around.  It was dark, though there was a small light coming from a window far above where she could not ever reach.  The walls seemed to be made of thick stones and there was a heavy iron door a few feet in front of her.  Jason wasn’t there though, he wasn’t in the room, she didn’t understand.  Suddenly the door opened and she looked up and saw her mother’s green eyes.  Her panic grew again, how did she get here, was she captured too?  She had visited her often in Paris.  She was very vague about her job, and she knew it was probably sketchy, but could it be bad enough to be captured?

“Marinette, My Darling.  I apologize for your treatment, I did not realize that you were part of this.”

Talia rushed towards her daughter and unlocked the chains.  She was pulled into a tight hug that Marinette quickly returned.  After a few moments she pulled away but held her shoulders gently.

“I must show you something, come.”

Talia quickly stood and helped her daughter to her feet and walked swiftly through the calls of Nanda Parabat.

“What is mom?”

Talia smiled at that, she had always loved when her daughter called her that.

“It’s a surprise, My Flower.”

A few more twists though hallways and they stopped in front of a thick wooden door.

“I want you to meet someone.”

The door was pushed open and there sat a small baby in a crip with dark black hair, tanned skin, and dark green eyes.  Marinette gasped and covered her mouth,

“Meet your brother, Damian.”

Marinette slowly walked over and stared at Damian through the top of the crib.  He silently watched and studied her without making a sound.

“He’s about 3 months old.”

Talia said, smiling happily as she watched her daughter run her fingers through Damian’s small tresses of hair.  With a snap of her finger one of her shadows stepped next to her.

“Bring Jason.”

And with that order they were gone returning a few minutes later with a boy who was alive physically, but was mentally gone.  She could fix that though, it would be the last resort if all else failed, but she could fix it.  Marinette looked up when she heard Jason’s footsteps and her bright smile fell slightly into a small sad one.

“Jay-Jay.”

She whispered softly as she took slow steps towards the boy.  She quickly ran and hugged him again.  He no longer smelled like mud and he wasn’t wearing his suit, and he was….he was alive again!  Tears fell down her cheeks, because she missed him so much.

________

Marinette stayed with her mom in what she learned was Nanda Parabat.  She trained with Jason, but he was catatonic, just going through the motions blankly.  It worried her, especially as she watched her mother grow more anxious.  She cared for her little brother, and wondered if her dad knew, or if he would even care.  She often looked at Paris news for when she needed to go for Akuma attacks, but if her host parents even realized she was gone.  They hadn’t, nor had any of her “friends” apparently as they hadn’t sent her a single thing from the weeks she’s been gone.

Marinette knew that Nada Parabat wasn’t a good place, knew that the people were bad, knew that her grandfather was the head of it.  He didn’t seem to care who she was, he just thought she was some nurse for Damian, and she was thankful for that.  She knew that the Lazarus Pits were here, what they did, how they were made, how her grandfather used them for selfish purposes.  She didn’t do anything though, she was mad at her father for sending her away, mad that he adopted a bee kid only a year after he sent her away, mad that he never talked to her, mad that Dick never fought for her or looked for her, mad that Jason was forced to wake up and climb his way out of his grave only to be practically brain dead, mad that her classmates believed lies over her, mad that her host parents believed them and treated her like dirt or an invisible object meant to seen and not heard, mad that Chat Noir would leave her during battles because she didn’t return his affections, and mad that no one cared that she was gone!  So she trained as hard as she could, made sure that she perfected everything her mother threw at her.  Took care of her family and made sure they knew how thankful she was for them and loved them.  Then when she finally got a text from someone it was insults for being a horrible person and hurting Lila when she hadn’t been there for weeks!

She threw her phone at the wall and the crack echoed around the room.  Her breathing was harsh and ragged and then the tears she had been holding back finally fell.  Sobs wracked her body as she bit her lip to keep silent.  She tried to take in deep shuddering breaths, but it was no use and the sobs came out.  Her knees felt weak and she crumpled to the ground.  The door burst open and she saw her mom there knife in hand looking around the room with swift deadly eyes.  When she didn’t see any visible threats she kneeled in front of her daughter and looked directly into her eyes.  Eyes a storming blue that flooded with tears and made her heart ache and her want to murder whoever made her precious daughter look so broken.

“My Flower, what’s wrong?”

“N-nobody cares ab-about me!  No one cares that I’m g-gone.  Everyb-body hates me, and I’m so tired of it!  I’ll n-never be enough for an-anybody and I’m t-trying so h-hard to do wh-what everyone needs or exp-ects me to be!”

Marinette stuttered out between sobs.  Talia glared at that and felt anger at Bruce.  She thought that he at least checked in with her every once in a while.  She had guessed wrong then.  She pulled her daughter into a hug and let her cry against her shoulder.

“Shh, shh.  It’s okay.  You are perfect the way you are Marinette.  You don’t have to prove anything to me.  You’re such a good sister, you train so hard, and you have so many amazing skills and talents.  You are enough, don’t let anyone say anything different.”

Marinette gripped onto her mom and they both just sat there in silence as Marinette finally just cried.  After who knows how long Marinette gently pushed away and looked her mom directly in the eyes with complete seriousness said,

“I want you to help me fake my death.  If everyone wants to pretend I’m gone or wants me to disappear, then fine.  I will.  I don’t want to be seen anymore.”

Talia stared at her daughter in shock for a moment then gave her a small smile.

“It will be done my dear, you will be free.”

“Thank you mom.”

Taglist:

@queenz-z @aespades @fandomsaremylifeline @stainedglassm @toodaloo-kangaroo @prettylittlebutterflie @trippingovermyfeet @liquid-luck-00 @unoriginalmess @buginetye @miraculouslydumb @laurcad123

[fanficshiddles]

Toy For Their Pet, One Shot

Summary: Hela and Agatha have a pet Jotun!Loki. But they needed to find him a toy to keep him satisfied. Poor mortal Cora is kidnapped and thrown in to the wild beast to appease him. 

WARNINGS: Rape/Non-con, knotting, rimming. 

-

‘I know I said to bring her here without causing a scene, but I didn’t mean to knock the poor thing out.’ Agatha said.

‘It’s fine, she’s fine. Look, she’s starting to come round already.’ Hela said in defence.

Cora heard the two female voices as she started to wake. When she opened her eyes, she struggled to focus and keep them open. Her body felt heavy, especially her head. Like she had been drugged or hit.

She tried to sit up, but then the room started spinning and she couldn’t focus on the two women there.

‘Oh no, easy, sweetheart. Don’t move too fast.’ Agatha said as she rushed over to Cora and sat next to her, helping her to sit up a bit as she put her arm around her.

Hela rolled her eyes and walked closer, hands on her hips. ‘We don’t have long before he will be awake. I don’t want to have to punish him again just for being horny.’

Cora was too confused to properly take in the conversation. One minute she was minding her own business in her home, the next she was swiftly knocked out. Now she woke up… wherever the hell she was.

‘Wh… what… what’s going on? Where am I?’ She asked groggily as she put her hand up to her head.

‘Relax, honey. We’re not going to hurt you, as long as you’re a good girl and do as you’re told. Ok?’ Agatha said softly, tucking Cora’s hair behind her ear.

Cora’s eyes widened as she was finally able to focus more. Agatha’s words chilled her to the core.

She looked at the woman next to her and the one standing on front of her… and realised she recognised them. It was hard not to realise who they were, from seeing them on the news.

The fact they weren’t exactly hiding themselves made it blaringly obvious they weren’t just two ordinary women. Hela was wearing Asgardian type light armour, her long black hair encased her face with her bold and intimidating make-up.

Agatha looked exactly like you’d expect a real witch to look. Slightly crazy long hair and she wore elegant dark bluey-purple robes.

They were both extremely intimidating in every sense of the manner. Both of them, Hela more so, were very tall. Making Cora feel even more frightened and small.

When she started shaking, Agatha slid her hand round to her back and started rubbing in circles to try and soothe her. But Cora was too scared, she tried to make a run for it but when she stood and took a few steps, she stumbled as she had stood up far too quickly, then she found herself captured in Hela’s arms.

‘You’re not going anywhere, pet.’ She said as Cora started struggling in her grasp.

‘Please… please don’t hurt me. What do you want with me?’ Cora sobbed.

Hela kept an arm clamped around her middle as she gripped her chin to force her to look at her.

‘As my dearest Agatha said, we aren’t going to hurt you… But he might.’ She grinned and motioned to the right with her head.

Cora looked over and she could barely contain a scream. There was a large glass wall that showed through into another room. But right at the front, at the glass… was Loki. A frost giant. She knew of him too from the news, he had been attacking people at random in London. Unable to change back into his Asgardian form, until he suddenly just vanished. Now, Cora knew where he had vanished to...

He was standing right at the glass, hands flat on it as he stared intently over at her. His red eyes blazing at her hungrily, he looked terrifying. And he was naked, his blue skin was really striking with his Jotun markings all over him. But what she also noticed was that he was extremely aroused.

‘Wh… what… no… please.’ Cora sobbed and panicked all over again, struggling against Hela but to the God she was just like a kitten squirming in her arms.

Agatha stood up quickly and walked over next to Cora, looking at Loki too. Hela still had a firm hold of Cora, but Agatha slid her hand up to the back of Cora’s neck and stroked on her skin softly. But it did nothing to ease Cora’s fear.

‘He won’t hurt you… If you just submit to him, let him do what he wants with you. He is just rather… insatiable.’ Agatha said calmly.

Hela looked over at her, raising an eyebrow. Agatha shrugged and mouthed ‘Don’t scare her off before we even get her in there!’

‘Wh… why me? Please, I can’t… I’m scared.’ Cora begged, hoping the women would take pity on her.

Hela lifted her up with ease and started carrying her over towards the door that led through to where Loki was. He was pacing back and fore now behind the glass, eyes blazing hungrily as he kept locked on to Cora.

‘NO! PLEASE!’ Cora tried kicking out but she was getting nowhere.

‘Don’t tire yourself out, dear. You are going to need all the strength you can get.’ Hela purred and unlocked the door with a flick of her finger and a glimmer of magic.

She looked over at Agatha, who followed and nodded at Hela. When Hela opened the door, Agatha went in first, using her magic to put up a powerful shield to keep Loki back.

He tried to get over, but was kept back by Agatha’s magic as she entered, with Hela and Cora close behind her. Loki was snarling and growling at them, salivating at the mouth and desperate to get to the mortal girl.

He was massive in every sense of the word. A frost giant to the core. Cora thought she was going to pass out again.

Hela suddenly threw Cora onto Loki’s bed, she went sprawling across it. Agatha and Hela backed out of the room.

Cora tried to make a mad rush for the door as it closed and she heard it locking. But she had barely taken a few steps away from the bed when Loki slammed into her.

She screamed, but wasn’t sure what scared her the most. Being trapped with such a wild being, or the fact he was ice cold to touch. His body was over her instantly on the bed, trapping her beneath him.

Loki shoved his face into her neck and in-haled her scent, growling as he did so. She froze while he studied her, terrified to move in-case she angered him. He began sniffing down her body and with his long nails started tearing at her clothes.

Agatha and Hela stood by the glass, watching intently. Hela leaned on Agatha, her elbow resting on her shoulder. ‘You know, love… I think we might have finally found the right pet for our pet.’ Hela said as she watched Loki tearing at Cora’s clothes and then he began sniffing her all over.

Agatha tapped her lower lip and nodded slowly. ‘I think we have. At least he hasn’t torn into her like the last one.’

Hela sighed softly. ‘She was a stunning woman. Such a mess to clean up, though.’

‘She was... But Cora is a pretty little thing. I think she is more suited for our Loki.’ Agatha slipped her arm around Hela.

They continued watching, pleased that Loki had taken to Cora. Finally, finding the right mate for him. He had already started bonding with her and marking her, licking her skin. He started with her stomach, running his tongue all over her.

Cora was crying quietly, too scared to move or argue with him. She knew there would be no chance of escape, anyway. The best thing she could do, was just let him do what he wanted and get out of there alive.

The way his tongue was lapping over her skin had her almost squirming, she was a little ticklish and his cold licks were light. But she kept still, bunching her hands into fists at her sides.

Loki licked up her body, around her breasts and over her nipples, making her squeak slightly. She was a bit weirded out, wondering what on earth he was doing exactly and why. As she was practically covered all over in his saliva by the time he was finished with her. Arms, legs, thighs, stomach, sides. When he was at her neck, he also bit her a few times that made her cry out in pain. But he didn’t react to her noises.

The final place he hadn’t yet claimed was between her thighs. When he moved down there and pushed her thighs further open, she tried to snap them shut but he growled deeply and bit her thigh really hard, making her bleed.

She screamed in agony and then started thrashing around, Loki bit her again on the opposite thigh.

‘You better keep still, honey. Or else you will end up with more bite marks all over you.’ Came Agatha’s voice. It sounded like she was in the room, but Cora knew she wasn’t, she was safe behind the glass.

Cora wept quietly and did her best to just lie there and let Loki do what he was going to do.

Loki hummed in approval when she stopped moving around. He clamped his large hands around her thighs, keeping her spread open for him with terrifying ease with his strength. She couldn’t look down at the monster between her legs, so she opted to look up at the ceiling instead.

When Loki’s cold tongue started lapping at her cunt, she grabbed the bed sheets underneath her. At first, she was repulsed that he was doing this to her. But as his tongue pushed through her folds, gently lapping at her, she found her body falling under his control more and more.

When Loki licked her clit, her body started reacting to it. Little whines came from her and her body jerked each time. Loki smirked against her as he concentrated on that spot for a while, happy with her reactions, the tip of his tongue circling her clit in firm but slow movements.

She was about there, her body being forced into the pleasure. She could feel her impending orgasm… But it was ruined when Loki sucked on her clit and nibbled, sending pain and discomfort through her instead.

‘Ohh poor pet. So close, yet so far.’ Hela said smugly.

‘Mmm, we haven’t had such good entertainment in so long.’ Agatha said, biting her lower lip.

‘Why don’t we make our own entertainment while we watch?’ Hela suggested and with a flick of her wrist, their bed appeared right next to the glass for them to watch and have fun of their own.

Loki flipped Cora over onto her stomach, he treated the back of her to the same treatment. Licking all over, not missing an inch of skin. Her body was cold not only because of his cold nature, but because her skin was cooling fast in the light air around her with his saliva drying on her.

But she panicked when he spread her ass cheeks apart and started licking around her asshole.

‘NO!’ She screamed and tried pulling herself away from him.

Loki snarled angrily, bit her left butt cheek hard and smacked her right cheek with his large palm. Making her scream even louder. She kept still after that, just letting the tears roll down her cheeks. Pleasing Loki for being still, he went back to rimming her. Leaving nothing untouched.

Cora was so relieved when he finally stopped giving her attention there. She really hoped he wouldn’t go back there at any point. She just wanted this nightmare to be over.

But it was far from over.

Loki grabbed her hips and positioned her up on her hands and knees. She so wanted to try crawling forward, away from him, but she knew better now. And the firm grip he had on her was warning enough not to try anything.

She shivered as his cold breath danced against the back of her neck. Suddenly in one smooth motion he mounted her, an arm snaked around her middle while his other hand wrapped around the front of her neck, at the same time his large cock pushed against her wet cunt, seeking entrance. Even that was cold.

Cora was losing her breath, partly from the sheer coldness of it all, having a frost giant pressed against her back and pushing his cock into her was very numbing, mentally and physically. She made a slight movement that Loki thought was her trying to escape him again, so he bit the back of her neck hard, forcing her to submit to him.

Loki ignored her cries and was able to thrust into her fully, forcing her body to yield to him. His ridged and highly alien-like cock was hitting all the right spots inside her. Her mind was at battle with her body.

‘MINE!’ Loki snarled as he held himself deep within her.

It was the first word that Cora had heard from him and it shocked her. His voice was growly and deep.

He became very possessive as he started rutting into her, his balls were slapping against her skin in a loudly lewd manner.

‘Wow, he’s really hammering into her, isn’t he?’ Agatha said. She and Hela had been fondling one another on the bed, but the action between Loki and Cora was too exciting to look away from.

‘Hopefully he doesn’t end up breaking her.’ Hela drawled.

‘Not after taking his time to mark her, I think he’s finally got a toy he’s happy with. He won’t hurt what belongs to him, and she most certainly belongs to him now.’ Agatha said with a big grin as she licked her lips.

The two continued to watch while Loki completed his mating ritual. He started to swell at the base of his cock, he was able to push it into Cora’s cunt when she had an orgasm forcefully, causing her to howl in pain and surprise pleasure as his knot then swelled, locking them together as it throbbed on her g spot.

As Loki started cumming inside his new mate, he locked onto her shoulder with his teeth, drawing more blood from her. No matter how hard she squirmed and tried to move, he wouldn’t let go. He pulsated within her, spilling his cool cum deep into her. She could feel every single drop filling her, it felt like her stomach was going to explode.

Loki collapsed down fully on top of her, almost crushing her. But the mewling from Cora had him quickly rolling them both over so they were on their sides, he kept her close to him though.

She couldn’t stop shivering… a mix of cold, fear and confusion.

Loki nuzzled into her hair, grumbling and making light noises as he stroked over her stomach. He was still knotted inside her, and when he moved a bit, she whimpered as he tugged on her.

He softly kissed her shoulder and the hand on her stomach slid downwards, he lightly touched her clit and when she started moaning, he traced patterns over her until she came on his cock again, her walls fluttered around him as he groaned in pleasure.

‘I’ve never seen him be gentle like that before.’ Hela said as she cocked her head to the side.

‘He’s like you, love. Has his sweet and tender moments, it just takes time to show and the right lover.’ Agatha laughed wickedly at the glare Hela gave her. But she was right.

After Loki ravished poor Cora for hours upon end, she finally passed out in pure exhaustion. Loki’s knot took a while to go down enough for him to slip out of her, a big mess of cum came pooling out.

He wasn’t happy when Agatha and Hela went in to retrieve the mortal. But Hela and Agatha’s powers together was too strong for him. They promised it was just for a short time to let her recover. But Loki’s anger was enough of a sign for them that he was most certainly not happy about her being taken away.

When Cora came round, she wasn’t sure whether she was relieved or not to find herself in Agatha’s arms, on her lap.

‘Hey, honey. Are you alright?’ Agatha smiled sweetly at her.

Cora froze, not sure whether to try escaping or not. Though when she looked around, she saw Hela was sitting right next to them. She knew she wouldn’t have a chance against one of them, never mind two.

Hela reached out towards Cora’s lips with a strawberry in hand. ‘Come on, eat. You must be famished, and you need your strength.’

Cora looked at the offered strawberry like it had insulted her. But her stomach was grumbling, she really was so hungry. She parted her lips and Hela slipped the fruit into her mouth.

‘That’s a good girl.’ Hela praised and hand fed her some more. They were really juicy, so flavoursome. Like from another world.

‘Loki really likes you, which is simply wonderful.’ Agatha beamed happily.

Cora tensed on her lap. ‘I’m so sore.’ She whispered, tears brimming in her eyes.

‘Shhh, shhh. It’s alright, you’ll get used to it.’ Agatha said softly and began stroking her hair.

‘Please… Please, don’t send me back in there with him.’ Cora sobbed and panicked, she clung to Agatha and buried her face in against her.

Agatha pulled a sad face as she gently rubbed Cora’s back. ‘Oh, sweetie.’ She looked up at Hela, smirking and she winked. ‘Unfortunately for you, Loki has mated with you. You’re bonded now, and for a Jotun that means for life. It would hurt him physically and mentally if we kept you apart... And we just can’t do that to him.’

Hela pursed her lips together at Agatha.

‘Agatha is right, my dear. But don’t worry, we will look after you and make sure you’re well fed and watered. Loki isn’t a complete beast all the time, he will want you to be cared for too. And he will be gentler with you now his initial frenzy has calmed.’ Hela said.

Cora wasn’t so sure about that, she was so sore and was sure her insides were bruised. The thought of having to go back in with him was utterly petrifying.

But she knew she had no choice. Up against a powerful Witch and the Goddess of death? The poor mortal girl had no chance, and she knew it.

She belonged to Hela and Agatha’s pet Jotun now. Nothing more than a toy for their pet.

[skellebonez]

Because I'm sure this is going to be inevitable, how about some angst for the Chaos Trio (Mei, Jin and Yin)? With 61 and 52

Oh I have been looking forward to Chaos Trio angst since you sent me this, anon. Despite how they act in show... I think Jin and Yin are not exactly harmless. Especially if you mess with people they start to consider family.

The Cursed AU and the Chaos Trio in it come from @winterpower98!

Warning: blood and head injuries, enemy demons limbs (not detailed).

That is not a good hiding spot./I am a really bad actor.

Things had been going pretty well, all things considered. Jin and Yin had no problem getting Mei to join them in a little bit of... let's say "competitive insurance" as it were. They had to make sure they were secured in their own little tech related ventures, and after some financial setbacks they needed extra fallback. They’d planned the whole thing out with her help, more than 2 steps and everything! She was good at that.

The problem was that someone got a lucky hit.

They would have made it out with no problems, if they all hadn't decided going on Mei's motorcycle as a group (which, now that Yin thought about it, was probably incredibly dangerous and illegal with 3 of them on it... not that they cared about legality for themselves but somehow when it came to Mei that suddenly made them concerned). But nope. 1 bike. 3 people.

One lucky shot to the rear tire.

The three of them went flying, Mei landing very impressively on her feet whole Jin and Yin bounced on a bush and thanked anyone listening that demons were sturdier than humans. They didn't thank anyone for the pieces of bike that came flying at them all, and they were certain that they heard a piece make contact with something hard, maybe the nearby light pole, but couldn't be sure.

By the time they looked up they just knew they had a group of very angry demons that were pissed they stole and then wiped their code for... something, didn't matter to the twins what it was. They just wanted their competition out of the way. For solely selfish reasons. Nothing else. Not like they wanted it to see what it was and maybe figure out a counter attack so that certain overpowered people with monkey motifs would have an easier time in the future.

Not a chance.

As they fought off the attacking demons they insisted to themselves they didn't care that much.

"That is not a good hiding spot!" Jin yelled across the battlefield as Yin ducked behind crates. "Just chuck it for now and beat em with the blunt end of something else!"

"Just give me 2 seconds, I can fix it!" Yin yelled back, trying his best to reassemble a part of his sword hilt that had broken off.

"Come on, these guys ain't so tough!" Mei laughed out, easily dodging projectiles and backsliding and slicing and dicing as she went. No one was actually killed, but they were lucky because the only reason for that was the young woman wasn't exactly out for blood. They'd be feeling every single hit well into morning though! She was doing much better than the two of them. "Grab a pipe or something! Wish I had MK's magic building power though, I'd rather not be here all-YIN!"

The younger twin looked up from where he had been crouched, eyes widening as he saw the form of a much larger demon hulking over him and ready to batter him with a club.

Things had been going well. All things considered. Then someone got a second lucky hit.

Right as Mei dove in to push the younger silver twin out of the way.

For a second the fighting stopped. There was just the sound of wood hitting hard plastic and fiberglass as the club was sliced in half by her sword and the lopped off half continued it's trajectory and slammed into Mei's head to lead to her crumbling on top of Yin. Jin stood on too of a pile of crates, watching as a line of red seeped through a crack in her visor and stained the white of her suit.

And then his entire vision was red as he lunged at the demon and sliced, sending his arm flying in the opposite direction.

The demon screamed, holding the stump that was his arm from the elbow down, backing away as quickly as he could. "W-what the hell!?"

"Mei," Yin said softly, carefully clicking the emergency release button to make her helmet digitize away. Her eyes were closed, blood dripping from a slice running along her scalp... but as far as he could tell it was from part of the helmet being cracked and cutting her. She was most likely knocked out from the impact, breathing odd but steady in her unconscious state. "You... we're going to get you to the hospital."

His tone hardened as he carefully laid her on the ground, standing tall as he grabbed his broken weapon and a nearby piece of broken steel.

"You. Are going. To pay for that," Yin said coldly, stance no longer lose and half playful as it had been the whole battle. His stood tall, eyes wide and cold and the demons surrounding them felt a chill run down their spines.

Jin stood in front of him, blood from the other demon splattered across his face and chest in a stark contrast to his orange visage.

This... this wasn't the pair of Gold and Silver Demons they had heard about before. They were known for not taking almost anything seriously, making bad deals and pacts and weird blood oaths they wasted on bizarre favors. They were known for being good at tach but not much else, most demons in the area knew vaguely of their history with the Monkey King but even that ended in failure. Their plans were half baked, goofy, and lately they'd heard they'd gotten roped in with the Monkey King's successor and renewed flame of the Six-Eared Macaque.

The two standing before them did not look like the demons they'd heard about.

Mei hadn't wanted to seriously hurt anyone. The demons heard her yelling as much on the battlefield. But now Mei was hurt.

And the twins did.

It happened fast. They wanted to get it over with quickly. Mei had also not wanted to kill anyone at the very least the twins could do was keep up their promise from earlier in the day to avoid that. And they did.

That didn't mean there weren't lost limbs. Hands and arms. A leg or two. More than a couple eyes were lost. Someone lost an ear. Another a tail and horn.

Injuries they could recover from meant as warnings.

All it took was 3 minutes and the entire storage area they crashed in was a mix of grey and brown and red. Demons holding their injuries or running off.

The one who had attacked Yin and hurt Mei stood in awe and fear, looking down at the smaller twins who has decimated an entire group so fast.

"I-how!?" He yelled, backing up slowly. "This isn't possible, you're not this strong!"

"Who told you that?" Yin asked slowly, tilting his head and watching as the demon realized... he'd never heard they couldn't fight. "We don't fight like this because we don't want to. Never meant we can't."

"Why?"

"We are really bad actors," Jin said, wiping the blood off his weapon on an unconscious demon's shirt. "Why bother trying to hold back when we can just hide it by not trying?" He turned to the demon, glowering coldly as he watched his brother pick Mei up carefully. "Tell anyone who asks nothing. We'd like to keep it that way. Unless you want a round two where someone else doesn't hold us back."

And then they were gone.

~

"What in the actual hell happened?" Macaque asked in an even tone. Practiced even. A dangerous even.

"Well-" "You see boss-" "we kinda-" "-there was-"

Jin and Yin tried to think of a reasonable excuse, faltering as everything they thought of sounded worse and worse in their heads.

The two sat in Mei's hospital room, towels draped around their shoulders. They’d been smart enough to stash Mei's bike somewhere safe and wash off in the ocean before coming to the hospital, less covered in demon blood meant less scared humans when they rushed in with Mei in tow, and it was easy to make the nurses believe them.

Simple bike accident, friend hurt, help please.

With Macaque staring them down with his patented death glower, shadows growing and warping around the room in response to him, it was infinitely harder.

Of course Mei's emergency contact was MK. Of course MK could call Macaque before her parents (who were apparently on their way back from some kind of dragon family business trip when they learned). Of course Macaque would show up almost immediately and begin asking questions.

"It was my fault," Mei chimed in, voice slightly off from having awoken with a nasty concussion. "I thought it'd be fun to go on a joy ride late at night, I've done it before without issues! But, uh... I've never had two passengers before... and we hit something. Don't be mad at them?"

Macaque looked like he believed Mei as much as he believed Tang would lose interest in the Monkey King and switch his field of study to obscure methods of basket weaving. Which is to say: he didn’t. But he sighed, giving Mei a small smile as the shadows returned to normal.

"Ok," he said softly, tone much more gentle with the dragon descendant as he reached out to brush loose hair out of her face. "I won't be mad at them. I'll be very disappointed-" his tone hardened for a second at those words as he turned to the twins with a glower again. "-but I won't be mad. Do you need anything?"

"Maybe a candy bar from the vending machines outside?" Mei asked with a smile.

"Sure," Macaque laughed and shook his head, moving to the corner of the room. "I'll be right back."

He sunk into the shadows, a cool trick that the twins would always be impressed by, and they breathed a sigh of relief at knowing they were alone. For now.

"You didn't have to do that," Jin said, frowning at Mei in concern. Maybe it was just because he was now the eldest in the room, but some kind of protective feel pulled at him.

"I know," Mei said with a tired laugh, laying back into her pillow. "But you guys are like... my bros. I gotta stand up for my bros."

And that made both Jin and Yin pause. They looked at each other, eyes widening as they both came to a realization that was probably a very long time coming at that point.

"Yeah..." Yin said, a soft smile forming on his face. "We'd do the same for you... you know, if you didn't take that hit for me you probably would have kicked everyone's ass way better than us! We barely got out by the skin of our teeth!" A full truth and a blatant lie, but he hoped Mei wouldn't pick up on that second part.

"You know it, boi!" She didn't.

It was odd for him in particular. Yin had never really thought of himself as an older brother before.

First time for everything.

[pastelwitchling]

“What do you mean he’s been hit with truth serum?” Michael demanded.

Alex giggled from where he had his head rested against the wall, his half-lidded eyes on Michael. “You’re pretty.”

Michael and Liz stared at him a moment, Michael’s cheeks warm.

“Exactly what it sounds like!” Liz said urgently. “Look, it’s all my fault, I – I got in an argument with Max, I wasn’t paying attention, the solution was about to erupt, Alex jumped in to protect me, and he got hit!”

“It’s not so bad,” Alex said from the corner. He pointed at Michael’s open flannel. “I love it when you wear your shirt like that, by the way. Unbutton another one.” He straightened. “Never mind, don’t. I don’t want anybody staring at you but me.”

Michael exhaled slowly. He looked to Liz whose eyes were wide, her cheeks pink. “Why were you making truth serum?!” he snapped.

“It was unfinished!” she argued. “It wasn’t supposed to be a truth serum!”

“I like the way you smell,” Alex told her dreamily. “Makes me feel safe. Well, it did, until you played favorites and encouraged Maria to go after the only man I’ve ever loved. Did you ever consider what that would do to me? It killed me every second, by the way.” He perked up. “Oh! I left my copy of Little Women under the sofa! I’ll have to remember to check when I get back.”

Neither Liz nor Michael said anything in response to that for a long time. Michael felt an uncomfortable twitch in his spine at the mention of his ex, and Liz looked no more pleased with herself for her mistakes.

Michael shut his eyes. “Why am I here? Don’t you think I’m the last person who should be around Alex when he’s spilling his guts out?”

“You’re the only other person who can help me find an antidote to this!”

“Aww,” Alex laughed. “You’re both so scared of the truth. I don’t think my feelings have been any secret.” He pointed at Michael. “I’m in love with you –” He looked to Liz “—I’m disappointed with you.” He shrugged. “And I can’t even look at Maria anymore without wanting to scream and cry my eyes out.” He slumped. “I’m hungry. I don’t eat nearly enough.”

“I can’t –” Michael shook his head. “I can’t do this, I can’t be here.”

He turned to the door, made it just to the handle, and Alex called out in a singsong voice, “Michael’s running away again!”

Michael stopped, his whole body tense and on edge. He turned slowly to Alex to find him staring blatantly back at him, his smile intact, but his eyes glassy, as if a small part of him was still conscious of what was going on.

“I don’t run away from you, Alex,” he said.

Liz held a hand up. “Michael, he’s under a serum’s effects, he doesn’t know what he’s –”

“Don’t you?” Alex whispered, but his sad tone and teasing smile were enough to blanket the lab with a heavy silence. “Never seems to matter what’s happening to me, how hurt I am, how scared or lost or confused . . . you’ve never stayed for any of it.”

He stretched out his arms and legs. “Sure wish it had been that easy for me to abandon you like that.” He laughed. “But no, I kept coming back. Kept hoping. Then you’d make some joke about me –” he faltered, like a lump in his throat constricted his words, “being good for nothing but sex, and I’d feel like an idiot every time.”

Michael took a step towards him. “I . . .” he breathed. “Alex, no, I never meant any of that.”

Alex hummed. “I know, Guerin. I always know.” His smile turned small as he looked down at his lap. “But you were nice to her. I was always jealous of that. That you were so nice to her, but you were fine with making me feel . . .”

Liz was watching with furrowed brows, her own eyes glassy at the exchange. Michael suspected she only now was realizing the damage she’d done when she’d – as Alex had put it – played favorites.

“Feel what?”

Alex smiled like it was all a fun, tragic joke. “Unwanted.” His eyes turned dazed, his smile small. “I’m so tired. I don’t sleep nearly enough.”

Without another word to either of them, Alex curled up against the wall and closed his eyes. A moment later, he was breathing deeply.

Liz let out a shaking breath and sniffed, wiping her cheek. Michael watched as Alex slept, then turned to the table, pulling off his jacket. He levitated it over to gently cover Alex.

“What’re you doing?” Liz asked as he pulled out a few beakers.

“Working on an antidote,” Michael said. His voice was distant and dark to his own ears. “Before he wakes up.”

 Michael worked fast when he was pissed off, and he was pissed off, but only at himself. All this time, Alex had spent it with his shattered heart in his hands, and Michael had never noticed. Or maybe he had. That was the most frightening thought of all. That he’d known how miserable and tired Alex had been, and left him alone to deal with it.

He finished an antidote in less than an hour.

“Here,” he handed the spray to Liz, watching Alex. “You do it.”

“Right,” Liz took the antidote glumly, like a child being told to clean up their own mess. Either that, or she, like Michael, was still reeling from Alex’s honesty.

She sprayed several times around his face, let him inhale the odorless, colorless serum, and he woke with a flutter of his eyes. He blinked up at Liz who must’ve looked like she was about to attack him with perfume, and his brows furrowed as he pushed himself off the wall.

He looked around a moment, seemed to realize Michael was there, and his frown deepened.

“Did I miss something?”

“Quick,” she said. “Tell a lie!”

“Uh – about what? What do you mean?”

Liz glanced back at Michael, then took a deep breath, bracing herself. “Are you mad at me for talking to Maria about Michael?”

Alex blinked, startled, then his expression cooled and his impartial laugh slotted right into place. “What? No, Liz, what’s going on?”

Michael’s jaw clenched. “He can lie.”

Liz’s shoulders slumped, but guilt accompanied the relief in her frown. She wrapped her arms around Alex’s shoulders and hugged him tightly. “He’s okay. You’re okay.”

“I can lie?” Alex frowned, and Michael could see the gears in his head turning. “I couldn’t before?”

Liz pulled back. “You really don’t remember? My truth serum exploded, and you were hit!”

A moment of panic crossed his face before it was gone, so quickly that anyone that didn’t pay attention to every single thing Alex did would’ve missed it. But Michael did pay attention, so he hadn’t.

“It was truth serum?” he asked, then, “Why the hell were you making truth serum?”

“It wasn’t supposed to be truth serum!” she defended, exasperated.

“Liz,” Michael said darkly, “give us a minute.”

Liz looked between Michael and Alex for a moment before she silently nodded, brushed back Alex’s bangs, and left the lab.

Michael and Alex sat alone in the silence for a long time before Alex said, “I talked, huh?”

Michael shook his head. “Yeah,” he said. “You finally did.”

Alex met his anger with a cool glare. “I came to your trailer to talk, remember? You never showed up. I offered my help, you told me you liked someone else.”

“Stop it,” Michael growled.

“That’s what happened,” Alex reminded him. “What did you want me to do, Guerin? You went after her, you didn’t come after me.” He shrugged. “I don’t know what else there is to say.”

“Stop talking like that!”

“Like what?”

“Like you’ve given up on us!”

Alex stood, his expression darkening. “I wasn’t the one that fell in love with someone else, Guerin.”

He turned to leave, but Michael grabbed his wrist and turned him around so that he stumbled right into his chest. Michael wrapped his arms around Alex’s body, keeping him pressed against him.

“Neither was I,” he whispered against Alex’s lips.

Alex, startled, searched Michael’s face.

Michael’s eyes burned and his grip on Alex tightened. “I didn’t want to be unwanted.” Alex faltered. “I knew you wanted to have me,” he shook his head, “not that you wanted to keep me.”

Alex’s frown deepened and he sighed, turning his face away before Michael gripped his chin and pulled him in for a kiss. Alex gasped against his lips, shocked, but Michael couldn’t get his expression out of his mind; when he’d told the truth of how hurt he was, the way he’d smiled because he’d believed no one would care, and knew he had to be fine with that. Even under a serum’s effects, he’d warned himself not to show too much emotion, not to break in front of the people he no longer trusted.

It made Michael pull him in deeper, kiss him harder, tilt his head and taste Alex’s tongue and nearly tear off his shirt. He wanted to touch every inch of Alex’s skin, to whisper his love for him against his lips, his neck, his chest, his stomach, his arms, his legs. All this time, he hadn’t realized just how badly he’d been suffocating, and now, with Alex back in his arms, he felt right. He felt like he could finally breathe.

Alex pulled away. “Stop,” he panted, his hands curled to fists on Michael’s chest. “Stop, you can’t just . . . I don’t trust you anymore, Guerin.”

A lump lodged in Michael’s throat, and he held Alex tighter, holding him close enough that nothing could’ve fit between them.

“I’ll earn it back,” he promised, pressing his forehead to Alex’s to keep them close. “I’ll earn your trust back, I swear.” He swallowed. “I want to be good for you, Alex.”

Alex tensed, doubt flickering in his eyes. Michael cupped his jaw and held on tight, his thumb brushing Alex’s cheek.

He growled, “I know I can be good for you.”

Alex’s lower lip trembled, and his eyes filled with tears. He whispered, “And what if I’m not good enough for you?”

Michael scoffed, unable to help the grin pulling at his lips as he closed his eyes, taking in the warmth of Alex against him.

“No one’s better for me than you.”

*** Shrug.

[not-me-simping-for-blasty]

I Melt With You - Bakugou Katsuki

All Parts:

Part 10:

“Hey, Bakugou.” You greet easily, waving at him. “Can you believe it?”

“Jesus- what the hell are you on about now?”

“Nothing. Just, this marks the third time I’ve seen you without injury. Good on you buddy, setting a personal record and everything.”

He huffs, pushing off the wall. Bakugou is without his costume, clad in just normal sweats. The sight makes you feel a little bad- it was obviously his day off, but there he was working. Sacrificing his time for you.

“Fuck you.” He grumbles, without any bite. “Seriously. Fuck you.”

“C’mon, grumpy, don’t get so huffy.” You say playfully. “I was mostly joking, but I did mean it. I think I like you a whole lot better when there’s no blood involved.”

He starts to smile, just for a second, before he quickly evens his expression. It’s like he’s trying to hide the fact that it was there at all, quickly spinning around and starting off at a brisk pace. 

“Woah, slow down, no need to run, speedy. I’ll take it back if you’re so allergic to me being nice.”

Bakugou doesn’t respond, but he does slow down. Just minutely. Hardly even at all if you really think about it, but hey, at least you’re not basically running after him anymore.

“What’s got you so cheery, hah?” He asks after a beat, making an intentional point not to make eye contact. “It’s late- you’re not tired again?”

His tone catches you off-guard, something accusatory underneath that has you scrunching your nose. You’re not exactly sure what he’s getting at, but you can read his prickly tone for what it is- Bakugou is making fun of you. 

“No. I’m actually not tired, thank you very much.”

“That’s not what you were saying last night.”

“You know, that sentence from anyone else would offend me- but from you?” You scoff, squinting your eyes at him. “Well, I’m sure it was meant as an insult, not an insinutation; so I’ll refrain from calling you a pig. For now.”

“Call me anything and see where it gets ya, leech.”

“What’re you gonna do? Fight me?”

“Please, it wouldn’t be a fight.” He snorts, kicking at a rock in the road. It flies down the alley, all the way past the streetlamp’s glow. “See? I’d slaughter you.” 

“Yes! Probably!" You say in faux exasperation. "But it’s because you have way more practice at slaughtering people! I don’t know why you’re bragging about that- that’s totally not something normal people brag about!”

You throw your hands up, gesturing wildly, and Bakugou just sort of watches you. Doesn’t really react other than to evade one of your errant hands. You just barely miss him, the tips of your fingers clipping the fabric of his sweatshirt.

“What- nothing? You’ve got nothing to say about that? Course you don’t- because you’re proud of slaughtering people. Is that it? Huh?”

“I’m proud of winning.”

“That’s not what I said.”

“Close enough.” He shrugs. “'Sides, it’s not my fault I wasn’t listenin’. Ya said so many damn words to me.”

“That’s so rude! You-“

Seeing his smile, you cut yourself off half-way. It should hardly even count as a smile, really, it’s much more of a smirk- something entirely self-indulgent and dripping with arrogance. You’re not sure if you wanna punch him in the mouth or giggle.

“You jerk. You’re messing with me!” On impulse, you knock your shoulders into his. Bakugou doesn’t flinch- nor does he budge whatsoever. “You’re just being mean on purpose, aren’t you?”

“Course.”

“Why? Just, I don’t know, be nice?”

“Fuck that. No thanks.”

“You incredibly rude- you know that?”

“And you’re fuckin’ annoying.” He retorts, knocking his shoulders into yours. Bakugou smirks when you stumble. “See- I’d murder you in a fight.”

“No one was debating that!”

He just bites his lip, throwing his head back. It’s like Bakugou is trying to hide his smile; exposing the strong column of his throat to you, pale skin gone 10 shades of gold under the streetlamp.

It steals the breath from your lungs- how devastatingly beautiful he can be. You have to tear your eyes away.

“Hey, Bakugou, it’s your day off right?”

He eyes you a little strangely. “Yes? Why?”

“Geez- Don’t be so suspicious.” You laugh. “I only asked because I was curious.”

“The hell you have to be curious about?”

“Just what you’d be doing right now otherwise- you know, if you weren’t stuck walking me-“

“‘m not stuck. Wouldn’t do this if I didn’t need to.”

“Yeah, but still.” You take a breath. “What I mean, is that, I’m sorry if this is burdening you. I know this probably isn’t what you wanted to do on your day off.”

He eyes you, sniffing for a moment while he juts his chin out. “Eh- it’s fine. Walking this far outta my way is good excercise anywa-“

“This far? Oh my god- are you serious? Where do you live?”

“Far enough.”

“Bakugou.” You say sternly, staring him down. You’re well aware he’s not a man who’s easily scolded into revealing the truth, but damn if you weren’t going die trying. “Seriously- how far?”

“Fuck’s it matter to you for?”

“Because it just does! Now, c’mon really, I’m gonna feel like, super bad if you say you’ve gotta take a train her-“

“No train, so quit bitching.” He scans the street for a moment, before turning back to look at you. “Not that far. Half an hour, maybe, if I was running.”

“If you were running? What about walkin-“

“Not walking so it doesn’t matter.”

“It does!”

“It fuckin’ doesn’t-“

Then he’s standing ram-rod straight, slapping an open palm over your stomach and pushing you back. You’re flying back into the shadows, back slamming against the brick wall. Gasping, air knocked clean out of your lungs, it’s all you can do to keep your eyes open and watch him leave.

Bakugou hardly even looks back before he’s soaring past the end of the alley, explosions igniting under his palms. There’s no one, all is quiet, silent and tense and then- bam.

A mottled mass of muscles and pulsating flesh barrels through the building beside Bakugou. Debris rains down onto the street, down onto the exact spot you were standing moments ago. The flying detrius knocks Bakugou off course, and the blonde hardly dodges before the creature is slinging fists his way.

“Shouldn’t’a been makin’ such a scene!” Bakugou is all smirks and haughty confidence, seamlessly twisting and dodging the creature’s strikes. “Gave yourself away- I’ve got you now!”

Even breathless and winded, you can’t help but stare. Bakugou truly is something else- a terrifying bullet in the air, bordering on frenetic as he dodges. He’s so fast you’re worried he’ll catch fire. There’s a reckless sort of smile on his face, stretching his lips back around canines you’re sure are sharper than before. He’s throws his left palm out, explosion recoil throwing him just past the creature’s next attack. It’s enough of an opening for Bakugou to surge in, flashbang fingertips making contact with the beast’s abdomen.

“Really, that’s all?” He challenges, grinning like mad when the beast flies back from the impact. “No strategy at all? That’s not gonna fuckin’ work!”

And then he looks back at you, just for a singular moment, while the beast is bent over from his previous blow. The sight nearly knocks the air out of your lungs all over again.

Bakugou is terrifying. Manic and bloodthirsty and feverish almost, chest heaving with every labored breath. There’s something wild in his eyes, coloring his features in blood that hasn’t even been spilled yet. It’s intimidating and scary and overwhelming, but he’s dazzling too. A crazed smile, so blinding and brilliant, that it leaves an after-image long after he’s blasted away again.

Something snaps in you then, and you’re diving behind the nearest dumpster. It’s a little gross and cramped, but you hear plaster cracking around you, and suddenly it’s not so bad anymore. Your eyes are wide, watching the battle- and even when hidden it still feels too close.

Your heart is trapped in your throat, a battering ram even as you try to catch your breath. Everything is loud, and chaotic, and you’ve never been this close to a real battle before. It scares you. You clasp your hands around your ears, trying to block out the gargling and explosions. It’s not enough, your breath still picking up as explosion impact rattles the asphalt beneath your feet.

“You’re done!” You hear him shout, and suddenly the air goes white and hot, and bright.

You screw your eyes shut, and bite back a scream as an explosion rattles every surrounding window. The sound swallows everything, and the light show is even worse. Even through your eyelids it’s blazing. Bright enough to have you diving to the ground and tucking your head between your knees.

Then it’s quiet. Complete silence other than the ringing in your ears. You hear impact, a warbled groan, and then the sound of his voice.

“You fucker.” He roars. “I’m fuckin’ busy, you weak bitch, can’t ya fuckin’ see that?”

Another thud. Another groan.

“All this shit for some cash? Just get a job, you fuckin’ loser. Like the goddamn rest of us.”

You peak your head over the dumpster, and see Bakugou standing tall over the collapsed body. You’re not entirely sure how the villian’s quirk operates, but the mass of flesh is deflating by the second, leaving behind a skinny mess of bones and sinew.

“A front, hah? Pathetic.” Bakugou sneers, grinding his teeth before he snaps. “On your fuckin’ feet weakling- ‘m taking you in.”

Bakugou hauls the skinny man to his feet, trapping rail-thin arms tight to the man’s back. It’s only then that you choose to emerge, staggering slighty on your shaking legs. It’s like you’ve got tremors- your body practically bowled over by the sheer amount of adrenaline coursing through your veins.

“H-help- I didn’t-“ The skinny man starts, before Bakugou is sending a knee into the base of his spine.

“Don’t speak to her, you shit-stain.” Bakugou curls his lip. “Shut the hell up.”

You’re not really sure what to do then- caught between wanting to high-tail it in the complete opposite direction, and surging towards Bakugou. Because, if you weren’t certain before, you definitely were now; Bakugou knew what he was doing. And if worst ever came to worst, he’d stay true to all his threats. Nobody was getting to you while he was around.

“Follow. C’mon.” Bakugou nods towards the end of the street. “Police station. You know where it is. Let’s get the hell to it already.”

You just start walking- almost on autopilot. There’s a weird fuzz settling in your brain, the adrenaline seeping and leaving nothing but exhaustion behind. It’s disorienting because you weren’t even part of the fight- Bakugou had shoved you back long before you could have ever been in any real danger.

You’re not sure how he knew- how he could have possibly predicted the villain coming through the wall, but even still, you’re gratetful. Because you’re not hurt, only frazzled where you would’ve been massacred without him there.

Bakugou waits for you to pass him by, and only once you’re a good few steps ahead, does he start shoving his prisoner forward. The walk is tense and silent, the only noise being the occasional pained groan from the skinny man. There’s an undeniable air of intimidation coming from Bakugou, rolling off his skin and permeating every spare inch of air. It only adds more stress to an already harrowing situation.

The police station lies just where you remembered it, but you’ve never been this close before. You’d only seen it down the end of the street as you passed by- only through the fuzzy haze of exhaustion after your shift ended. Now there’s nothing hazy about it- just a stark white building and big glass doors. Big glass doors that Bakugou is surging through, prisoner in tow, and ordering you to stay behind.

When he’s through the door, it’s like your heart finally starts to catch up. You can feel it’s thud slow against you ribs, no longer jumping at every slight sound. You eyelids feel heavy, further weighed down by the headache you feel coming on. You lean against the wall of the station, bending slightly at the waist as you ground the heels of your palm against your temple.

“All good?” You hear his voice some time later, Bakugou’s footsteps heavy as he approaches. “You get hurt?”

“No- ‘m fine.” You chew your cheek, straightening as you look up at him. “I think.”

He studies you for a moment, red eyes flitting across your face. Bakugou grimaces. “You’re shaking.”

“Yeah. Was scared.”

“It’s fine now.” He huffs, frustration lacing his features. Bakugou clenches his hand, releases, and repeats twice over before he speaks again. “Got ‘em already, so you can chill the hell out now. Alright?”

“Yeah- yeah sure.”

You try to agree, but your voice doesn’t sound right when it leaves your throat. It’s a little too hoarse, empty of almost all inflection. You’re not particularly pleased with it and Bakugou is even less so.

“You need a few minutes or something?” He pinches the bridge of his nose, like even asking the question pains him. “Need to call somebody?”

Bakugou looks incredibly uncomfortable- eyes shifting around wildly and refusing to settle. All of his battlefield-confidence, even that self-assured smirk seems to have disappeared entirely. He huffs a pained breath and leans back against the wall next to you. His shoulders are just barely touching yours, voice pinched and tense when he speaks.

“I know it’s loud- but it’s over now. Now you just go home, and you sleep. Nothing is gonna happen to you.” Stuffing his hands in his pockets, Bakugou tilts his head skyward. He grinds his teeth, once, twice, and smooths out his grimace. “And I’ll fuckin’ be there so don’t go spiraling about it, alright? You’re safe now.”

You nod, rolling your lips together for a moment. He’s not meeting your eyes, not even attempting to, but you can’t help but stare. Can’t help but track all the lines of his face; the way his nose slopes, and the set of his eyebrows. He doesn’t look like before. Not crazed, or manic, or brutal. He’s just Bakugou. Maybe a little grumpy, but mostly just uncomfortable- exactly the way you’ve come to know him.

Something in you settles at bit at that.

“Yeah. Yeah, okay. Let's go." You kick off the wall, putting one foot in front of the other. "I'm more than ready to be home."

Bakugou just watches you, and you can see him reach a hand out before immediately dropping it. His lip curls up in disgust- and that just confuses you. You wonder where the Bakugou from a few minutes ago went; the one who seemed so entirely sure of himself.

"Faster." He says, overtaking you in one long stride. "Stallin' around at night is never a good idea."

You suppose he's right, but you never would've believed him before.

Prior to tonight, you had never been a part of a villain attack. You hadn't even seen a villain on anything other than TV re-runs. Your neighborhood was quiet, the streets never holding any danger, even at night. Now, though, every shadow seems suspicious, every sound a precursor for something far worse. Your well aware you just got caught in the wrong place at the wrong time that night, but that didn't make the reality any easier to handle. If Bakugou hadn't been there, if he hadn't show up dead on your balcony months ago, then you would've been gravely injured by all that falling debris.

The thought makes you feel weak all over again. Has your fingers curling in your gloves- itchy and uncomfortable and helpless.

You're quiet as you walk, caught up in a million spiraling thoughts. Bakugou doesn't seem keen on conversation either, keeping a few paces ahead and scanning for other danger. Occasionally he'll turn back, check to make sure you're following, and all you can really offer is a nod and a shaky sort of smile. It doesn't satisfy him at all- you can see that every time he sets his jaw.

"Oi- Leech." He snaps in front of your eyes, waving his hand back and forth. "It's- stop lookin' like that already. All freaked the fuck out. You look ridiculous."

His haughty tone as your blood warming, fingers clenching at your sides as you walk. You're not sure what reaction he's after, but all you can really think to do is get angry.

"I am freaked out! You were there! You saw that guy! He was huge!" You snap, squinting your eyes and waving your hands around. "If you weren't- I- what am I supposed to do when that shit happens? Huh? I can't fight, and even if I could I wouldn't, so what am I supposed to-"

"Nothing." He interrupts. "You do nothing, and you hide. Like you did."

"Yes, because you pushed me! If you hadn't I would've been crushed by all that- and how on Earth did you even know he was coming?"

"Vibrations. In the ground." He squints at you, a little confused. "Did you not-"

"No!"

"Damn," He huffs a laugh, shaking his head. "You really couldn't feel that? Jesus, you really are clueless. No wonder you were so freaked out."

In that moment, you're a little sure you could strangle him. All his skill you'd seen earlier suddenly didn't matter at all, and you were sure you could take him down with nothing but rage alone.

He- vibrations? You didn't feel anything! You felt nothing and even if you had, you would've assumed it was an earthquake. No one except for him and his battle-addled brain would've ever assumed it was a villain of all things!

"Calm down," He seems to be fighting a smile, lip twitching up. "You look fuckin' ridiculous right now. 'm not scared of you, leech."

"You should be! I'm about to strangle you right now-"

"For what?"

"For- for- I don't know! You just make me so angry with your 'Oh, you didn't feel that?' bullshit!" You tilt your voice lower, coating it in gravel to mimic him. "Of course I didn't feel anything! I'm not like you- I don't have freaky super-human instincts and explosions and I can't just go fight somebody!"

True to his word, your outburst doesn't seem to scare him. If anything if seems to pull the smile from him more, lips pulling back into a grin even he has no chance of hiding.

"There she is." He stuffs his hands in his pockets, falling back a little to walk right beside you. "Thought you'd gone into shock or somethin'."

"So you- on purpose?"

"Said that shit about vibrations? Yeah." His smile turns wolfish, all sharp canines and pink gums. "There were no fuckin' vibrations, idiot. I heard the plaster cracking."

In that moment you're the surest you've ever been- you were going to murder Bakugou Katsuki.

"You dick!"

Your hands are out before you can stop them, shoving forcefully at his side. He just looks at you, rolling his eyes, and then decides to let you tip him sideways off the curb. It's the worst kind of victory- a pity one that he let you have.

"Chill out, already." He laughs. "Only said shit so you'd stop bein' all miserable. You should be fuckin' thankin' me."

"I'm not thanking you!"

He steps forward, one long stride eclipsing you entirely. Then he spins, facing you with another crooked grin, and you're digging your heels into the cement to avoid crashing directly into his chest.

"I said-" He starts, hands in his pockets and leaning forward until he's practically towering over you. "You should be thanking me."

His voice is low, sly and challenging as he grins. He looks positively predatory- but attractive too. The worst kind that leaves your heart stuttering in your chest for almost no discernable reason.

"G-get away from me." You fluster, taking a step back. "I'm not thanking you."

He shrugs, falling back to a safe distance. You don't miss it though- the way his grin goes just a little wider, entirely satisfied. He won, and he knows it.

"Suit yourself, then leech." He says, voice light. "If ya wanna mouth off so much, then 'm not fuckin' saving you next time."

He says the words, but you're almost entirely sure he doesn't mean them. Not with the way he is now- beaming and pleased under the moonlight. You wonder if he always gets like this; so happy just after a victory. It's the kind of sight that almost makes the entire ordeal worth it. Almost.

You walk through the doors of your apartment, shuddering a long sigh of relief. The walls feel safe, security and peace etched into familiar walls. Even with Bakugou stomping behind you, the serenity isn't disturbed all that much. He's still in his rare good mood apparently, and he doesn't even grumble whatsoever.

Truth be told, you're still a little shaken, but the interior of your apartment puts you at ease. Even if you don't feel nearly as infallible as before, home is a good feeling- it always is.

"You know- you know that you just got unlucky, right?" Bakugou seems to struggle for a moment, kicking the door shut behind him. "It's- that's- shit like that doesn't usually happen here."

You're not sure where his sentiment is headed, and he must see it on your face. He flares his nostrils, sighing something long-suffering and dramatic.

"I'm sayin'- that wasn't part of anything else. It was just the one idiot, so it's not any more dangerous here than it used to be. 'm sayin' don't waste your time worryin' about that shit."

Something in you warms a bit- just a fraction. You're not sure how he knew, how he always seems to know just what you're thinking, but at this moment you don't care to find out. There are some comforts better left experienced instead of studied- and you figure this might be one of them.

You smile, something soft and fond. "I take it back- I will thank you. So thank you. I'm sure I'd be a lot worse off if you weren't around."

You watch him fluster, watch him itch in his skin and shift his weight around. Eventually he settles on turning his back, moving towards your fridge as he speaks.

"Probably. You froze up completely- woulda been piss poor job performance to let you get killed." He's swinging the fridge door open, and the white light just makes it more apparent- his cheeks are pink. "Got ice packs in here somewhere?"

"I-Ice packs?"

"Yeah. Knuckles are gonna bruise up if I don't ice 'em."

You look a little closer then, at his fingers curled around the handle of your fridge. His knuckles are a little swollen, bruised up and red where the skin had split. It doesn't look too bad, much less serious than any other injury he'd come to you with, but that doesn't change the itching in your own fingers. You want to help him- now more than ever it seems.

"Shit- sorry." You breathe out, nearing a little to get a closer look. "I was so freaked I didn't even think about asking- are you okay? You're okay, right? Nothing else, no bones or blood or-"

"Calm down. 'm fine."

You look at him again, squinting for eyes for a moment. He just rolls his own, extending his arms out and flipping them. He was telling the truth- there's only one other scratch on him, and even that was already scabbed over. The only issue were his knuckles- and that sets you at ease.

"You want me to wrap them for you?" You ask, looking up at him. "Oh wait- actually, you'd probably want to do that yourself, huh? Since you're not on the brink of death this time and actual-"

"You do it."

"Huh?"

"I said- you do it." He won't meet your eyes, turning back to your fridge and opening it up once more. He makes himself right at home, grabbing one of the water bottles off the shelf without asking. "Did it all the other times, so you do it. Don't think you're gonna get away with cuttin' corners on me."

"I didn't mean it like that. I just meant, that I know you find it annoying when I'm all fussy so I just-"

"Shut up already. You continuing to run your mouth is the only thing that's annoying me right now."

You're about to retort, something offended and assuredly juvenile, but you decide against it. That night had been filled with far too much conflict for your liking, and you weren't about to incite more of it. If he wanted you to wrap his knuckles, then you'd wrap his knuckles. You figured it's the least you could do for him.

Turning your back on him, you start for the bathroom, and the first aid kit inside. A part of you considers just permanently moving the kit into the kitchen, but that sort of seems like you're just inviting more misfortune. You keep hoping that one day you'll stop having to patch Bakugou up at all, but from the looks of it, that isn't likely. Not even a little bit considering his obvious bloodlust.

"You wanna-" You start, walking back into the kitchen. You're shocked into stillness by the sight of him searching through your cupboards. "Um, what exactly are you doing?"

"Hungry."

"Okay, caveman, I just- you're not seriously trying to cook right now are you?" You near him, hands hovering in the air. You're sure he wouldn't appreciate it, but a large part of you just wants to grab at his shoulders and shove him away from everything. "Stop that- lemme get you fixed up first. Then I can call for something. I'm not gonna let you exert yourself any more than you already have."

Bakugou seems a little perturbed by that, whipping his head around until you can see wild red eyes. You almost sigh; what you wouldn't give for him to just chill out for once.

"I'm not saying you can't cook. You probably could, I don't know." You near a little more, dropping the first aid kit onto the countertop. "I'm saying, you've already done enough today, and you deserve to take it easy. So let me help you by wrapping your hands up. That's all."

Bakugou's in the midst of another internal struggle, before he visibly forgoes it. His shoulder's drop and the tension leaks until he's settling into one of your dining chairs. He sets his hands out on the table, clearing his throat at you until you kick into motion.

At this point, cleaning up his hands is practically a daily chore. You've gone through the motions more than enough times to be adjusted, but even still, his hands still freak you out a little. You'd never seen anyone who radiated so much heat- even just being next to him was like sitting in front of an open flame.

Your fingers are gentle, skidding over his hands with feather-light touches. He seems to slump in his chair, eventually just laying his head on the outstretched arm you weren't actively working on. He watches you closely the entire time though, red eyes burning holes into the side of your head.

"Do it again." He says. "Too loose. Do it again."

You're half-way through wrapping his right hand, only a small amount of bandage left. Not only would you have to do the bandage over entirely, but you'd have to unwrap it completely first.

"You always say that," You mutter, exasperation coloring your voice. "What makes it so much better the second time around, huh? I do it the exact same."

"It's just better. Takes longer."

You're not really sure what he means by that, and Bakugou doesn't look all that thrilled that he said the words at all. He jumps in his chair, cheeks gone pink as he digs his face into the skin of his arm. He's hiding.

It strikes you as even but odd, but you shrug off the strangeness all the same. You're getting far too used to his particular brand of bizarre.

"All better now?" You goad, patting the bandage after you've finished re-wrapping. "Everything feel nice and perfect for Prince Bakugou?"

He lifts his head. "You're not funny."

"You always say that too. But it's okay, I know one day you'll finally come around and appreciate me."

He just laughs under his breath, but he smiles too. Grins something tiny and small that he hides in his shoulder.

You start finishing up his other hand, and Bakugou doesn't say anything otherwise. He just sits, resting his head on his arm, and watching you intently. He's all calm and even breathing, chest rising and falling in perfect rhythm. You'd thought him adrenaline-crazed earlier, but it seemed he was coming off of that high rapidly. You could feel the exhaustion too- almost lulled by your movements just as much as he was.

You start gathering away all of your materials, and he doesn't even move. Just sits in perfect stillness at your table.

"I- I didn't accidentally touch you right? That's not why you're like that?" You ask, smothering a yawn. "Super exhausted, I mean."

He shakes his head. "Nah. Normal tired. Didn't fuck up this time, leech."

You don't have it in you to respond, hardly even rolling your eyes at his remark. His jabs don't hold much bite anymore- you begin to wonder if he's actually getting nicer or if you're just growing a ridiculous tolerance.

You brush off the thought, pushing away from your table and rising from the chair. "You still hungry?"

"Yeah. Wanna sleep first though so don't worry about it."

"Okay; well, I'm definitely going to so-"

"I said don't." He supplies evenly, finally sitting up in his seat. "It's fine. 'm not fuckin' starvin' or anything."

"You're sure?"

"Yes."

His insistence sells you, but you're not sure if it's because you actually believe him or because you just want to. Either way, you figure it doesn't matter much in the end, not to the way your limbs are quickly bowing to exhaustion. You feel the fatigue settling in, and you'd like to blame that for your next actions.

"C'mon then, sleep time, I guess." You say.

Then you cross the kitchen, passing behind him, dropping your hand on his shoulder. You hardly let it sit, just running your thumb over his shirt once, twice, and then continuing on your way.

He takes several seconds to finally follow you into the living room. Enough to have you looking back in confusion, unable to understand why he looked so very stunted where he still sat.

"Jesus, you're annoying." He finally grumbles, rubbing at his eyes.

His steps are loud as he crosses the room, stopping just a few inches in front of you. He grabs at your arm, raising your wrist himself and plucking the glove off in one fluid grab. It if wasn't so sudden an action- so ridiculous and fast and borderline violent, you might have even been flustered.

As it was though, he just grabbed your wrist before you could really register it.

Familiar warmth floods your veins. The same burning, slow heat that makes it;s way through each vein and artery. You think maybe your knuckles ache a little bit too, but it's too hard to tell through your quickly increasing sleep fog.

Bakugou lets you go pretty quick, falling back on your couch in almost the same moment.

"Better?" You ask, mirth warming your words. "Had to do it yourself because I was taking too long?"

"No, 'cause you pissed me off."

"Doing what?"

"You know what you're fuckin' doing."

Then he's grabbing the blanket, settling it over himself gracelessly while he flops over. He's face-first into the cushions now, effectively ending the conversation in much the way he typically does- by refusing to engage entirely.

You just roll your eyes a litItle fondly, still not even beginning to understand.

/-/

ooooo boy i am so sorry y'all for this late uPDATe,,, pls i usually update my fics way faster than this but sometimes life rlly just do be happenin lmaoooooo

n e wayz, ty for reading and supporting my work!! y'all are the absolute best i could ever ask for!!!

[equizona]

Shielding Embrace

Fandom: Obey Me!

Characters: Mammon

Format: Drabble

Warning(s): Mentions of abuse(?) Angst(with a happy ending), crying, swearing, calling Lucifer a stuck up little bitch, OOC.

Summary: MC is tired of hearing Mammon get picked on so often, by his own brothers no less. As the second-born demon has always protected them, they think it's their turn to protect him.

Note: I wrote this a while ago, since I'm tIRED of Mammon getting bullied all the time. He deserves better-

"Diavolo, stop being such a scumbag Mammon-"

It wasn't uncommon that the brothers would call the second-born mean words. Scumbag was their favorite, along with dumb or stupid. You agreed that he didn't always make the best choices, but they were always so cruel about it. It never gave off the vibes that they were only joking either. It was like they meant every word.

You hated it with your whole being. Mammon had been the nicest to you, and he had been the one who had been there with you since the start, ever since Lucifer made him your 'guardian' in a way. He wasn't the best at showing his emotions, but you could tell he cared. Sometimes, it felt like he was the only one who cared.

You wanted to shout, or scream at them, for all the cruel things they would say to him. He deserved better than that. He was their brother, so why were they always so mean to him?

"MC? Are you okay?" You were forced out of your mind by Satan's annoyingly Loud question that brought the attention of everyone at the table to the two of you.

You remember when he tried to kill you. You remember when all of them tried to kill you. You remembered when Belphie actually killed you.

All those times never quite left your mind, and you could still feel the fear you felt in each of those situations. Mammon was the only one of them you felt completely comfortable with anymore, as he was the only one who never seemed to lose control and attempt to harm you.

You decided you wanted to stand up for him like he stood up for you all the time.

"Actually, no, I'm not. What's wrong with you guys?"

Satan's eye twitched, and it was oddly satisfying. You could see all of the brothers about to speak up about what you'd said, though you didn't give them that chance.

"I don't understand why all of you keep calling Mammon a scumbag. Is it because he's greedy? 'Cause if that is the case, then I want to remind you that greed is his sin. He's the avatar of greed. And I mean, why get mad about him for that? As far as I remember, all of you don't ever try to deny your sins."

You didn't feel satisfied just yet, so you decided to continue. You wanted to make them feel just as horrible as you assumed Mammon felt each time they threw those words at him.

"I mean, Lucifer is a stuck-up little bitch with too much pride and he can't ever seem to apologize or see that it's his fault no matter how obvious it is. Leviathan is constantly envious of everything to the point it can be fucking unbearable. Satan has extreme anger issues, and gets angry at the smallest things and Asmo is constantly flirting with people and usually not stopping until he's in their pants. And please, don't even get me started on Beel. Then of course, Belphie just seems to never bother lifting a finger to help anyone. But I never see anyone complaining about all of that, do I? It's not like any of you do anything to deny the sin you are assigned to, so why do you expect Mammon to do it, hmm?"

You raised your eyebrow in a judgemental way, just to add that extra spite. You could clearly see Mammon's shocked expression.

You preferred watching the reactions of the others more though. Beel looked guilty to some degree, Asmo looked offended, Levi and Belphie looked annoyed at the whole thing while Satan and Lucifer looked downright pissed.

You could see that Mammon was about to say something, probably about how he was okay and you should calm down, and Satan looked ready to snap and attack you, again. Though neither of them had the chance to react before Lucifer stood up while slamming his hands down on the table, glaring at you.

"Excuse me? Run that by me again, won't you?"

You'd normally apologize and leave the room to do something else, but you were tired with their bullshit and this just seemed like yet another way you could call them out on it.

So, you gathered up all of your courage and looked Lucifer straight in the eye, glaring at him as well, despite the fact you knew it would have little to no use.

"Or what? Are you going to try and kill me again? Because let me remind you that all of you have attacked me before, except Mammon. Oh, and of course, one of you actually managed to kill me. Remember that, Belphie?" You shot him a mean look, and at least he seemed to have some guilt over the situation.

"And you know, Lucifer probably would have killed me before as well, hadn't it been for Lord Diavolo. Oh, but you never quite did apologize for that, did you? You never apologized to Luke for attacking him either, did you? And it's because you have so much pride. Because you're so high and mighty and you can never do anything wrong, can you? Ah, but nobody ever tells you that, do they? Because they know it's the sin you represent and they know it's a part of who you are."

Lucifer blinked at you, shocked, and nobody else seemed like they were going to say anything either.

"Actually, in my opinion, I think Mammon is the least 'scummy' and 'lowlife' person in this room. And he somehow managed to be the one with the most control. Seriously, at this point I'm certain that you all only ever say those things to him because you all know you're the real lowlives and you're just too pathetic to admit it."

You didn't want to stay there anymore, and since they all seemed to shocked to say or do anything, you stood up and quickly made your way to your room, though it wasn't long until someone was knocking on your door.

"Uh, human..?"

Mammon's voice.

You almost wanted to cry. He didn't usually knock, he preferred to just barge in with his stupidly cheerful attitude that never failed to make you smile.

"You can come in."

You voiced it quietly, a small part of you hoping that he wouldn't hear you and just leave instead, but seconds after he opened the door and let himself in.

He didn't say anything as he sat down next to you on your bed though, most likely trying to figure out what he should say in a situation like this.

What you weren't expecting was to hear the sounds of sobbing.

Worriedly, you say up and moved next to him, concern filling your entire body as you gently put your arms around his shoulders and made him lean on your chest.

"Hey, hey, shh, are you okay? Do you want to talk about it?"

You tried to make your voice as gentle as possible. You weren't entirely sure what to do, but you never liked it when he was sad. His negative expressions and tears always layed heavy on your heart, so much that it was almost unbearable.

"Did- did you mea-mean it-?"

He stuttered out after a few minutes of you running your hand through his hair in an attempt to calm him down. You frowned, not entirely sure which part he was asking about.

"Which part are we talking about specifically?" You questioned him, though you made sure that your voice was soft.

"All of it." As soon as he answered your question, he got out of your embrace only to put his hands around your neck for a hug. You grinned, hugging him back.

"Of course I was. You're the one that's been there for me since I came here, and while I can agree that you don't always make the best decisions, they don't always make the best decisions either. They are your brothers, and they should never be saying things like that to you. Actually, from now on, each and every time they say something mean towards you, I want you to come to me so I can smother you in my love and affection."

Oh shit, fuck, did you just-

"Wait- like- uh- no- uhm- like in a-a, uh-"

He moved away from you, and you wondered if he regretted that considering how red his face was. You'd probably burn your hand if you touched his face at this point.

"I'm sorry, but you're going to have to say that again."

You gave him a patient smile, wanting him to feel comfortable. You were almost certain that he liked you back, since he wasn't exactly very good at hiding it, but you hadn't wanted to act on it before now incase you made him uncomfortable or that you were wrong.

Though his reaction only made you more certain.

He took a few moments to collect himself, before trying to speak up again, though he didn't seem able to look you in the eyes.

"Do, uh- do you mean like- like in a, uh, a rom-uhm.."

"Romantic?"

You inquired softly, and to your delight he nodded, still not looking at you.

This wasn't exactly a side of him you saw often, since he would usually try and deny anything, but you were happy about it.

You moved to hold his face in your hands, though he still refused to look you in the eyes.

"If you want to. I'm not sure how you feel, since nobody but you can be certain about that, but I know I like you, and wouldn't mind smothering your face in kisses each day."

Your tone was playful, be genuine. You felt his face heat up even more, if that was even possible. He changed the direction of his gaze to look directly into your eyes, and you felt like you would get lost in the ocean his eyes had.

He leaned forward for another hug, and you grinned, barely taking a single second to process it before you were moving your hands to hug him back.

"I like ya too."

You grinned even brighter, squeezing him tighter. You didn't ever want to leave his embrace, and while you knew that you would have to face both his brothers and the world later, it would be a lot easier with him by your side.

[dessarious]

How the Sirens Adopted a Ladybug Pt1

So when I was writing the last chapter of How to Not Get a Date it went full blown angst. Since that wasn’t what I wanted for that story and rewrote the chapter that I posted but the other idea decided to blow up into yet another story so here we go again.

AO3   Next

“I don’t suppose I could convince you not to steal that?” Catwoman spun around to find a girl in what looked like a dark red armored suit with black spots. In the Louvre at two in the morning. What the hell?

“And just what are you supposed to be?” The girl just gave her a sardonic smile and Catwoman couldn’t help but notice how tired she looked.

“I’m Ladybug. Hero of Paris.” The sarcastic tone was unexpected and it took her a minute to actually process the words.

“Since when does Paris have Heroes?”

“Since some megalomaniac found a Miraculous and decided to use it for his own selfish desires. If not for the fact that he targets people with strong negative emotions I wouldn’t care what you do. But since the last time the curator of this exhibit was Akumatized it was a three day battle, I would really like to avoid it if I can.” She just continued to frown at the girl. That couldn’t be real.

“Did Harley and Ivy put you up to this?” That just got her confused frown mirrored back at her. She was either a really good actress or she wasn’t lying.

“Look, this exhibit is moving to London in under two weeks. Could you please just wait until it leaves Paris to take whatever it is you’re after?” This was so strange. She claimed to be a hero but didn’t seem to care that Catwoman was stealing, just that it would become her problem. Even most of the bats frowned upon that sort of thing.

“So you’re just going to let me walk out of here like nothing happened?” She sighed and ran a hand through her hair, refusing to make eye contact.

“The police have made it clear that it is not my job to apprehend criminals.” There was a lot of anger under those words. Catwoman walked up to the girl and gently lifted her head so she could study her. Seriously, what was it with black hair and blue eyes? Between the bats and Superman she was starting to wonder if it wasn’t a coincidence.

“When was the last time you slept?” She watched Ladybug’s eyes unfocus as she searched for the answer. “How about the last time you ate?” That produced a flinch.

“I can take care of myself.” Well that wasn’t a good reaction. The girl reminded her a bit of Tim and Jason. The sleep deprivation was all the baby CEO but the amorality screamed mister gun nut.

“I’m sure you can. I’ll tell you what; I’ll do what you want but in return you’ll come with me to meet a couple of my friends and let us feed you.” She hesitated but Catwoman didn’t see any worry in her expression. She wasn’t scared of being alone with criminals so it was likely pride holding her back. “I want to talk to you more about the situation here. It’s odd that I haven’t heard about it.”

“No it’s not. The Miraculous magic is very good at containing itself. Very few people outside of Paris have any idea what is going on.” That tone was odd. There was a trace of bitterness but it was mostly resigned.

“How old are you?” The way she held herself said she was experienced in what she did, but everything else screamed that she was still just a kid.

“Old enough to do what must be done.”  Yep, she was dealing with a baby.

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

“Will you quit worrying? I’m sure everything’s just fine.” Ivy just shot Harley an annoyed glance. She loved the woman to death but she really needed to take things a bit more seriously sometimes.

“She’s two hours late Harls, that’s a time frame for worry. Not to mention I’ve felt off ever since we got here. There’s something wrong with this city and I don’t like it.” She was constantly on edge and her skin felt like it was trying to crawl off her body. Ivy wanted nothing more than for Selina to get back so they could leave. Sightseeing be damned.

“As always your instincts are dead on.” She let out a relieved breath and turned to yell at Selina for trying to give her a heart attack but couldn’t manage to speak once she saw the person with her. Or rather once she felt the power coming off of them. She pulled Harley behind her and prepared for the worst. Selina was just looking at her like she was insane but the girl was studying her.

“Seriously, you’re scared of a kid?” Harley’s words made her really look at the person and that just made her more worried. Given what she felt this girl was capable of destroying the world without even trying.

“How can you not feel that? The energy radiating from her should be enough that even you should feel it.” Harley and Selina both just looked confused but the girl looked surprised.

“You can actually feel it?” Ivy just nodded. “I’ve never met anyone who could sense the Miraculous before. Whatever you sense though, I assure you I don’t mean any harm. There’s only one person I actually want to maim and I have a feeling when the time comes I won’t even be able to do that.” Well that was… odd. Even Harley was eyeing the girl like she had a screw loose.

“This is Ladybug. She’s a hero here in Paris.” Well that at least explained why she was late. “She’s asked me to hold off on my transaction until it leaves Paris.”

“And you agreed? She’s just going to go to the cops and make things more difficult for you later.” Harley’s words caused anger and hurt to flash across her expression before she controlled it.

“I said I wouldn’t. They wouldn’t take me seriously if I did anyway.” Now she saw why Selina brought her back with her. The girl looked like a stray cat. The stiff way she held herself was exactly like a cat who’d learned that people can’t be trusted, but she refused to run or show fear either. Then Ivy noticed the girls hair and eyes and almost groaned out loud. Selina had been spending so much time with her boyfriend that she was picking up his adoption preferences.

“I wanted to talk with her more about what’s going on here in Paris. We should order food since I have a feeling it’s going to be a long discussion.” Ivy saw the girl's cheeks turn pink and took the time to really look at her. She was the kind of thin that came from not eating rather than just being fit. Her mask hid any bags that might be under her eyes, but even standing still her body was swaying a little. The girl looked like she was about to pass out.

“Of course. Here, have a seat.” Ivy made chairs out of plants for everyone and the girl's face went completely blank before she turned to Selina.

“Is that normal for her?” Harley just started giggling but Selina gave Ladybug a sympathetic smile.

“Yes, Ivy has the power to control plants.” Ladybug let out a relieved sigh.

“Thank Kwami. I don’t think I’m up for another Akuma today.” Ivy shared a confused look with Harley. What the hell was an Akuma?

“You’re fighting people that control plants?” The girl blinked at her in confusion for a moment before understanding dawned.

“No, it’s complicated. I haven’t had to explain this to someone in a long time so I might not make much sense.” She sat while Harley went to order food. Ivy sat across from her and noticed how she melted into the seat. She obviously wasn’t used to being comfortable. When Harley came back in the room they were about to start asking questions when a little black cat shaped creature appeared. It was emitting just as much power as the girl.

“I don’t suppose any of you are willing to spring for camembert?” Harley gave out a squeak of surprise but Catwoman just looked stunned.

“Plagg! Are you out of your mind? Not to mention how rude it is.” Ladybug couldn’t seem to decide whether to be annoyed or embarrassed.

“Given that this one steals for a living I doubt they stand on good manners. Besides, you don’t know if you don’t ask.” The cheeky tone caused an eye twitch in the girl.

“What exactly is that?” Selina hadn’t stopped staring at the creature.

“I’m Plagg, Kwami of Destruction. I power the Black Cat Miraculous.” The girl actually threw her hands up in frustration.

“Tikki’s going to kill us both. Of all the people you could have decided to come out for why would you choose criminals?” Poor kid sounded close to tears and the creature flew up under her chin and started purring. Selina was grinning like a mad woman. Ivy had a feeling things were about to get a lot more complicated.

“Everything will be fine Bug, you’ll see. I’m the Kwami of bad luck and I can feel yours shifting.”

“I thought you said you were the Kwami of Destruction?” Selina sounded far too amused. Ivy shook her head at the woman. She still didn’t understand how no one else could feel the danger here.

“I’m both, just as Tikki is the Kwami of Creation and Good Luck, which is the Miraculous that gives Ladybug her powers.” The Kwami suddenly flew right up to Ivy to study her. “You’re an interesting being. Your abilities are inherently creation but you use them to destroy as well. She could be a good influence for you Bug.” Ladybug let out a sigh and pinched the bridge of her nose.

“I’m not using your powers to smite the people you think have wronged me Plagg. And I would really like to stop having this argument.”  

“You act like it’s an opinion rather than a fact. Even Tikki agrees with me there.” The Kwami sounded indignant and more than a little angry. The energy around it was getting steadily stronger. They really needed to divert it’s attention.

“What were you saying about camembert?” The Kwami perked up immediately but Ladybug cringed.

“Kwami need food to recharge and while just about anything will do in a pinch they each have favorites. Plagg’s favorite is extremely smelly and extremely pricy cheese. Which I haven’t been able to provide for awhile now.” Plagg’s expression dropped at her tone.

“Oh kit, it’s not your fault.” The creature flew back to her and began purring again. Ladybug wouldn’t look anyone in the eye but Ivy could feel the guilt and worry coming from her. Whatever was going on this kid needed a break.

“I just need to go change. Then I can run to the store while we wait for the rest of the food.” Plagg looked ecstatic at Selina’s announcement. Ladybug looked mostly worried but there was a bit of relief under that.

“I wasn’t kidding when I said it was expensive. I feel bad enough, don’t let them guilt you into buying something that isn’t really necessary.” Selina scoffed.

“I know exactly how temperamental some creatures are about food and given Ivy’s reaction I’d like to stay on their good side for the moment. Besides, the money isn’t an issue.” She was walking out of the room before the girl could respond. Instead she frowned at Plagg who was still looking after Selina.

“I thought we agreed no more surprises.”

“Tikki and Wayzz agreed, I didn’t. Besides, an opportunity is presenting itself that we don’t want to miss.” Ivy shared a confused look with Harley, who just shrugged at her. Ladybug seemed just as clueless about what they meant. That couldn’t be a good thing.

AO3      Next

[angry-geese]

Favourite Worst Nightmare

Secco x Reader and that gross green guy i guess >:(

Warnings: sfw. Mentions of violence and injury but nothing too graphic. A little suggestive towards the end. Gn!Reader

Notes: ehhh idk what this is but I feel like i should apologize for it. Reader ends up running a job for Cioccolata and Secco and survives the encounter

Part Two

There were very few things you hated more than running packages for Unita Speciale.

As a courier, you were one of the more replaceable- albeit necessary- parts of the gangs; the gears that kept the machine of Passione running. To put it lightly, this was never a life you wanted. When you came to Italy you never planned on spending the rest of your days as a half-rate mobster.

Technically, you worked independently. You didn't fall under the jurisdiction of any specific group. It was a fancy way of saying you were on your own. God help you if you accidentally pissed someone off because no one was coming to your rescue. Considering you could be targeted by warring gangs for running packages, you hoped the pay would be decent.

It wasn't.

Italy's underground wasn't how you expected it to be. It was harsh- you knew it'd be like that- but nothing like the mafia movies you watched as a kid. As cheesy as it sounds, they were still people, each with their own stories to tell. Being in your position, you listened. It was safer to play along and make friends than become the enemy of your worst nightmare. Jobs for smaller groups were typically safer but didn't pay enough to survive. Those with more reach- specifically ones closer to the boss- paid better.

From the outside, the building was unassuming. It was once an apartment complex- still is, technically- but only two people live there. Long ago it was designated as a hideout.

You've never spent much time at the place. You weren't often desperate enough to take their jobs. People talked. It's reputation was not unknown to you. You were well aware of the doctor and his... whatever the hell the other guy was. Assistant doesn't feel like the right word, and pet- however fitting- seems a bit dehumanizing. Though maybe it should. You've been warned these two were dangerous.

The sooner you get this over with the better.

You knock in the pattern Passione uses to identify other members. Two-three-two.

A set of unblinking purple eyes stares at you from the crack in the door. Part of you is glad its him who answered the door and not the other one. Your meetings with them have been few, and only in passing. These are not people you want to give the benefit of the doubt. Physically, Secco isn't very imposing. But beneath Oasis is lithe muscle that could drop you in an instant.

You pull the package from you bag, offering it to him.

"What is it?" He asks.

"A parcel." You say.

You know better than to open it, but you'd be lying if you said you weren't tempted to. It's likely money. Which you could use, though they'd notice it missing before you could even leave the city. Someone seemed to want it- evident by the man who attacked you. Clearly you won, but you didn't come out unscathed.

"Let them in." Someone says from the other room. It's faint, but clear.

The hairs on the back of your neck stand.

The room is sparsely furnished, with a single leather couch and coffee table, and blank walls. If you hadn't been told someone lived here, you would think the place was empty. It's sterile, white, and clinical in every sense of the word. At least get some decorations or something. You may be a mafioso, but you at least make your apartment look lived in. They don't seem to take interest in creature comforts the way you do.

The door seems to echo in the room as its shut. You take a few stiff steps forward, stopping just a few feet from the entrance. Its then the other man appears- covered up to his elbows in blood. He has the gall to look rather annoyed.

"You brought a gun," Cioccolata circles you, "cute."

"It's nothing personal, Signore." You say. "I need to defend myself."

"Are you not a stand user?" He asks.

"No."

It feels safer to lie. Maybe he'll go easier on you. Having gained one rather recently- and then never using it- meant you didn't have the best grasp on your abilities.

"Sit," he switches out his gloves for a new pair, "I'll stitch up that wound."

"That's not necessary."

"Consider it payment," he passes the package off to Secco.

Despite everything within you telling you to run, you sit. It's only a stab wound, though you should get it checked out. God forbid it gets infected. Someone like him doesn't do good deeds, but nothing about this strikes you as dubious. Often times people offered you smokes or drinks in return, this isn't too different.

He doesn't numb the wound before stitching it up. It hurts, but not bad enough to say something. Part of you is alright with that- he didn't drug you. That thought is comforting.

Those unblinking eyes stare up at you from your lap. Secco's hand not-so subtly reaches into your bag, pulling out a stash of chocolate you meant to save for later. The two of you lock eyes.

"That's a weird looking dog." You don't really mean to say it out loud.

He sits by your feet, gnawing on the sweets, rubbing up against your leg like a cat. As uneasy as it makes you, you fear his reaction if you ask him to stop. It wouldn't kill you to suffer through a few minutes of this. Pissing him off might.

"Secco seems to like you." Cioccolata mentions.

You're not sure how you feel about that. It doesn't seem quite so innocent.

"Those sutures can come out in a week." He says. "I'm sure you know the drill; don't get them wet, keep them clean, don't tear the wound back open."

You gather your things and leave.

Maybe that job lured you into a false sense of security.

If they wanted you dead, you would be. The reasoning seems sound enough in your head.

You'd go on to run more packages for them.

The pay was decent enough. Nobody else tried to mug you. People in general gave you a wide berth. For the most part, you were left alone. Whether they had something to do with it- or if it was just rumors- you'd never know. You didn't question it. To be the one who looked the mad doctor in the eyes and live was reason enough. Your situation was far from good, but you were a long stretch from being at rock bottom.

It became a routine for you. Your run wasn't long, and it wasn't in a shady part of town either. Get to a pickup point, deliver the package, try not to die. You got comfortable.

Secco opens the door before you can even knock. He seems to have a sixth sense for whenever you're around. He does his usual act of raiding your bag for sweets- of which you make sure to keep a small stash of. It keeps him occupied, and usually far away from you.

You sit while Cioccolata finishes up whatever he's doing in the basement. Don't question it. Those definitely weren't screams. You should know better than to go poking around where you don't belong. Despite growing used to the sterile nature of their apartment, the basement brought up a visceral fear in you.

Secco practically climbs into your lap. Despite not being too imposing physically, he's heavy. You absentmindedly scratch his head while you wait.

"Stay with us," Secco runs his icy hands up your sides, squeezing the fleshy parts of your hips. His grip is strong, and only tightens when you try to squirm away. He grows tired of you struggling, and pulls you up into his arms, heading towards the basement.

[darkmoonstore]

🍨 .்۫۫ › Headcanon:

❥ Pronouns: Not specified

❥ Summary: The Demon Brothers if they were cats

❥ Warnings: Reference to anxiety

❥ Request by none:

Hey! I hope you are doing great today, if you aren't, I hope that this can help a little.

At first I thought about doing a scenario where they turned into cats because of a curse, but I changed when thinking about a tittle to put on the edit. I also changed how this was gonna be write, so know that most of my others headcanons will not be like this — Shiro

.˚ 🌱ˀ⌇How you adopted them:

⚘݄݃  Lucifer: Even tho Luci was a really good looking cat, most people didn't wanted him because of he being a black cat. A lot of people were afraid or promised violence if he got close, so he saw all the others cats being adopt but not him. Until you came, you had gone directly to the cats area, Luci didn't even bother to directly look at you, he lost hope of being adopted, it really surprised him that you chose him instead of the others cats.

⚘݄݃  Mammon: Mammon as always got in a lot of trouble, even being a stray cat he did a lot of people mad. One time when running from another cat he got on your way, you almost kicked him, but thankfully at that time you had a fast reflex and took your leg off the way. Since then, Mammon always followed you when passed thought that area and one day you simply decided to take him in.

⚘݄݃  Leviathan: Levi was the most shy cat, afraid of everyone and everything. He run away from everyone that tried to get next to him, so it was really difficult to find a owner for him. You were a friend of one of the people that worked in the pet shop, they asked you to get something for them and let it on the shop and you did it. As you had some free time, you decided to play a little with the animals there, you got to the cats area and found Levi in a corner all alone. Tried to play with him, and for the first time he didn't run away from someone, you two played for a time and you decided to adopt him, he was so cute it's impossible to resist.

⚘݄݃  Satan: Satan was a really "savage" cat, always fighting with the others cats and trying to escape from the visitors and staff. No one could tame him easily, he was really fast and scratched everything that gets to close. You decided to adopt a kitten so you went directly to the cats area, getting close to Satan and trying to get him close, he of course attacked you too. But you were persistent, you comeback almost everyday to visit him, so he would feel more comfortable around you before adopting him.

⚘݄݃  Asmodeus: Asmo were the cat that everyone wanted, people looked at him and was immediately enchanted, but he is really picky, so it was difficult for him to find a owner since he rejected most people. Of course, until he saw you, you were the first person he wanted to be close by choice what really surprised the staff, even tho you weren't enchanted as the others you still liked him and decided to adopt it.

⚘݄݃  Beelzebub and Belphegor: Beel and Belphie were both stray cats, they were abandoned by their mom at a really young age. In your way home, you found both cats cuddle up together trying to get some heat from the chilly night, before trying to take them in you checked if their mom had really abandoned them. Since you didn't found the mom cat, you took both in, with some fight from both of them, but they weren't strong enough to stop you.

.˚ 🌱ˀ⌇What kind of cat they're:

⚘݄݃  Lucifer: Luci is a really scary cat, no one ever knows what's going on his head, but you know exactly how to read him and you respect his space. Likes to go out during the day, but don't worry he will always comeback, sometimes even with a gift because he's afraid you gonna die of starvation, since in his point of view you have no idea how to hunt and find food.

⚘݄݃  Mammon: Mammon is a really greedy cat, he always wants your full attention and pets. He also give headbuts on everything that in your house, he sees like everything is his so he put his smell on everything and everyone, but specifically on you and your rooms things.

⚘݄݃  Leviathan: Levi is a really anxious cat, he is afraid of everything that makes loud noises and things that move alone. If you want to make something and you know it's gonna make a lot of noise, put him as far as you can and don't let him comeback or he will be really scared and get anxious.

⚘݄݃  Satan: Spite of looking angry by the first impression, since he gets comfortable around you and your house he will start to show a more calm way. Even tho if another cat try to get in his territory he will kick the other cat butt, he is really territorial and don't want to share with anyone besides you. He also is really close to you, sice you're the only human he trust you will never see he going to another person's room.

⚘݄݃  Asmodeus: Asmo really cares about his fur, if you mess it up he will be mad at you and probably attack your feet at night. If you just washed your hand or took a shower/bath and pet him, he's gonna attack your hand and clean himself because how dare you put a smell that isn't his on him. He will try to groom you and if you try to get away he will paw slap you.

⚘݄݃  Beelzebub: Beel really enjoys food, he wants all you can give to him, make some homemade food that are eatable for cats and give it to him, now he loves you forever, just don't do it all the time or he's gonna get really addicted to it. He is really close to Belphie and they cuddle a lot, he is very influenced by his brother in certains things.

⚘݄݃  Belphegor: Belphie is a really lazy cat, is always taking a nap in the most inconvenient places, like on the way to the kitchen, on your laptop/computer and way more places. Sometimes he even get Beel to go with him, so you have two cuddle up cats at places they aren't supposed to be.

  .˚ 🌱ˀ⌇Favorite toy:

⚘݄݃  Lucifer: Squishy mouse. Luci likes to hear the scream of his victims, wouldn't be funny to torture without them begging for help, but for humans the sound it's really annoying so it's recommended to you to go to a different room.

⚘݄݃  Mammon: Glitter ball. He enjoys shining things and what call his attention, so make sure to hide your money, wallet and any jewelry because he will steal them right in front of you.

⚘݄݃  Leviathan: Feather wand. Levi doesn't like toys that make noise, so the best option is a feather wand since even if you beat it on something, it will not make a sound.

⚘݄݃  Satan: Paper ball. It's not really a ball, but he enjoys playing with it so much, if you want him to play just make or find a paper ball and toss it in the same room that he's in.

⚘݄݃  Asmodeus: Mirror. For some reason he really like look at himself in the mirror, but sometimes he try to catch something in the mirror and starts paw slapping it.

⚘݄݃  Beelzebub: Food shaped toy. Any kind of food shaped toy he really appreciates it, just show him the toy and he will happily play with it, you don't even need anything else to make him entertained for a long time.

⚘݄݃  Belphegor: Pillow. You don't understand how he would play with a pillow that's bigger then him, honestly I don't know either but he totally would and after sometime he would get tired and fall asleep on the pillow.

  .˚ 🌱ˀ⌇Favorite place to sleep:

⚘݄݃  Lucifer: Your table. If you have a table in your room, where you put your things like computer, notebook and things like it, make sure to open a space for him or he will sleep on top of your things.

⚘݄݃  Mammon: Your lap. Everytime he want to take a nap and you're sited or laid down he goes directly to your lap.

⚘݄݃  Leviathan: Your shoulder. Levi likes your company and your body it's warm, so what better place to sleep then a part where he can always stay? If you're laying down, sitting or even walking he can stay on your shoulder.

⚘݄݃  Satan: High places. Any high place on your house, be a wardrobe, a cabinet or even a refrigerator.

⚘݄݃  Asmodeus: Your bed. Asmo it's a really picky cat, he will not sleep anywhere, he just sleeps where it's most comfortable and that will not mess his fur and make it dirty.

⚘݄݃  Beelzebub: Your tummy. When you're sleeping or just laying down, he gets next to you and just lay down on your stomach, sometimes on top of it or on your side but his body it's always touching your belly.

⚘݄݃  Belphegor: Anywhere. Literally anywhere, it doesn't matter what it's or if it seems to fit him or not, one day you will find him sleeping at those places.

  .˚ 🌱ˀ⌇One habit:

⚘݄݃  Lucifer: Stare outside, even if he can get out and explore, sometimes he prefers to just stay in and watch the outside from inside the house. Most of the times he goes out, but if it's a cold day or he just doesn't feel like it, he enjoys just watching.

⚘݄݃  Mammon: Follow you, when you're at home he is always following you and sometimes even tries to walk between your legs, you're his favorite human and he enjoys watching you just as much as he always want your full attention.

⚘݄݃  Leviathan: Purr, for apparent no reason, you talk to him, look at him, give him some pets or just breathe and he's purring. He purrs the most when you let him on your shoulder, not only to sleep, he really enjoys being there at anytime you let him.

⚘݄݃  Satan: Ask for you to read out loud, yes it's a little bit odd to a cat do it, but he enjoys the sound of your voice. So everytime he sees you reading something, he will get close to you and meow until you start to read out loud.

⚘݄݃  Asmodeus: Groom you and himself, he wants you to look good and smell like him, so he will definitely try to groom you and will not be ashamed of grooming his privates parts in front of people, he's just getting clean after all.

⚘݄݃  Beelzebub: Sit and stay at your side everytime he wants more food, what happens very frequently if I'm being honest, so you will have to stop whatever your doing and put food for him.

⚘݄݃  Belphegor: Try to attack your feet everytime you pass through him, it doesn't matter if he was taking a nap, if you pass next to him he will try to attack your feet.

[jadelynlace]

NSFW Prompts / Ink Drinker Modern Vikings AU Request [Ivar x F!Reader]

request by: @quantumlocked310 & @alexhandersen-marcoilsoe-fandom (I combined two!)

author’s note: you can find the complete NSFW prompt list here, and you can find the request by the love of my life, I mean @quantumlocked310 here. the notes on this post contain the request from @alexhandersen-marcoilsoe-fandom

content warnings: angry sex (spanking, doggy & creampies); prompts will be bolded.

synopsis: Ivar wants to help you, and you just want to forget.

✎

You couldn’t say you had better coping mechanisms, dark humor and caffeine fueled mock-heart attacks were usually how you dealt with what horrors came from work. Bottling things up, shoving them under the rug that simply could not hold much more. But you never called Ivar a name out of anger. Or out of any emotion other than petty annoyance because there were times you couldn’t believe “Jack Ass” wasn’t his legal name. 

Bitch. 

You’d been called that before, by patients, by your ex, by Hvitserk if there was a loving application to the wording and there always was. But with how the name dropped off of Ivar’s tongue over the phone, there wasn’t an ounce of love in sight. And when the line went dead after his small outburst Ivar knew something had nipped at you. He just wanted you to consider the problem from his perspective—Ivar wasn’t one to talk about his own mentality and although he wasn’t the best example, he still saw someone professionally. You lacked that luxury and he thought you should do it. And you thought you should not.

“Why do you have to be a bitch about this?”

Sigurd even sucked in a quick hiss when the words left Ivar’s mouth, and then when his brother pulled the phone away from his ears quickly, damage was done. Ivar mumbled something about a smoke, anger on his face as he stomped through the shop, but Sigurd couldn’t tell if it was anger for you or anger for himself.

You were no happier when you went home after an unplanned extension to your shift. Taking a patient to the medical center almost an hour away on their own wish was your least favorite thing to hear when your shift ended five minutes prior. Anger might as well spill from your pores as you walked in to see Ivar at the dining table, a bottle of whiskey, two glasses, and eyes on you. And he looked pissed.

“Sit down.” He demands.

“Fuck you, Ivar,” You spit back.

“No, you don’t get to do that if you’re going to be a bitch about this,” Ivar says and he stands. You can only laugh, spoiled and rotten as the joke rings through you and annoys you even farther.

“Like you’re someone who talks about their emotions,” You say, stepping in through the threshold.

“I never said I was,” Ivar starts. “But there’s someone who gets to hear them once a week and all I want is for you to fucking think about that. That’s all I asked. Because I only know half of what you see on a daily basis, and what I know ain't great, and I can’t imagine what else there is.”

“Well, it’s a good thing you’re not a medic,” Your words come to be blunt as you walk past him.

“Oh my fucking god,” Ivar groans and pushes the chair back to thunk his weight across. “Why aren’t you letting me help you?” His words come next and you hear the bottle being opened, and you hear the sloshing of the liquid across the lowball glass and then your hear him toss it back. “I just want to fucking help you,” And Ivar is speaking to the table top now, eyes pinching shut as he scrubs his hands to cover his face. There’s another pour into the vessel and he tosses it back again. “Call me when you want to talk.” He says as he stands, feeling far too unwelcome, pulling his leather jacket back on and fishing through his pockets for his lighter and final cigarette. You hear the stomp from his boots and the deadbolt unlatch and you turn stalk out from your room. Now with bare feet that waltz you back over to where he is, slamming the door into its home and Ivar turns. There’s a look of confusion on his face, unlit cigarette ready to fall from his lips as your eyes bore back up to him.

“I’ve had a shit day—one where nothing goes right no matter what because some people can’t be pleased. Even when I drive them to the medical center, an hour away, and they have to wait in line to get checked in. Do not come over here to be a dick because I don’t want to talk to a shirk about the stupid shit like that. Have you ever seen a burnt body, Ivar? I’ll talk to a shirk about that—but not petty shit that comes with my certificate because it’s called petty shit for a reason.” You say lowly.

“Then what do you want me to do?” Ivar replies.

“Take the fucking cigarette out of your mouth.” And as soon as he complies you’re tugging his face down to yours. His hands move clumsily for a brief second, shocked in a sense with your change of emotions, and they finally latch on to your face. Your feet take you backwards, Ivar with you and you’re all but dragging him. There’s a wait for him to take control, and when you stand back alongside your bed simply looking at him, he catches his cue. 

You’re spun quickly, pushed to bend across the sheets and his hand is over your pajama pants. Slapping a palm across your ass and the sting sends your mind back to the present and it makes you moan. It makes the sharp thoughts dull and you ask him for another one. And another one. A balancing act starts between both of his hands, swatting your back side again because with each time you moan louder, you get wetter and Ivar is still trying to quickly get his own jeans off with his free fingers. He watches you climb up the bed, leaving the shorts in your wake and your wiggling from your shirt, on all fours before him. His jacket lands somewhere behind him, climbing up after you and you’re covered by that man, his hand back along your ass as he slaps it to darken a brilliant shade of red.

“Hang on,” He says lowly by your ear and he can’t help but dip his fingers between your folds, parting you to see how wet you’ve grown for him. A moan slips through your mouth as he does, pulling his fingers back and sliding your juices across his shaft, lubricating his journey and there’s a final slap before Ivar pulls your hips back. As you arch your back in response he grabs a hold of himself, nudging your thighs to part with his knee cap and there’s no slow pace as he pushes himself into you. Spreading your walls roughly and the tip of his cock pushes against your sweet spot instantly, melting into the sheets and your hair is yanked forcefully from his grasp. “I just want to fucking help,” He grumbles from behind you, gritting his teeth and he wants to stay mad at you but the ways your body conforms for him makes it a battle he’s willing to lose.

“Harder,” You beg and he hasn’t even moved yet. “Ivar, harder,” And he watches your fingers dig into the sheets as his free hand grips your hip bone. “Please—I need you so badly,” You whimper and that catches him. “Just make me forget,” The first thrust he offers you snaps you up the bed, rutting the headboard to bounce back off of the wall and you moan. “Harder,” Comes your plea and he drops your hair, free hand taking home to your other hip for leverage and he pulls back to slam into you even harder. The wetness radiating from your cunt echoes to meet the noise of the headboard as Ivar fucks you, your mouth dropping open and the angered thoughts from the prior hours are all gone. Taken up by the pleasure as his body meets yours, torso coming to cover you and Ivar reaches forwards, bending your body so your back meets his chest, and his lips can rest on your ear.

“I want you to forget everything and everyone else, but me—and this,” Ivar whispers in your ear, craning your chin as his hand slithers to grab your throat, sending his point home as his cock pierces you, causing you to whimper as your only way to respond. “And I want you to come all over me,” He grumbles, his voice faltering as his hips stutter, trying to starve off his own end to make you meet yours first. You can only nod in response, not even sure that he sees it as your climax creeps across your skin. Taunting you just out past your grip and the frustration makes you whine.

“Harder—‘m so close,” You whimper and one of Ivar’s hands drop suddenly, pushing against your clit and that sends you to cry out, dropping forwards as his hips moves as fast as his tired body will let them. Snapping up as his wrist moves to try to match it and he feels your walls grab him like a vice, a scream of his name rolling off of your mouth as you lurch in his grasp, soaking him and the whole complex surely hears you come. Crushing aftershocks of your orgasm ripple against Ivar’s shaft and there’s a few final slower thrusts, stuttering as he halts when he comes, the sound of his long groan heavenly on your ears while his arms all but crush you. Panting soon echos between the two of you and Ivar’s quite certain his back popped out of place with the force of his orgasm. As he trails his lips to your temple, gone slick with sweat that lingers from his own hair line, you finally apologize.

“Don’t need to be sorry—I get it,” He says quietly and the grimace from his earlier words are lightyears away. “Just tell me what you need so I can do it,”

“This,” is all you can reply.

“This might have to wait like an hour,” Ivar mumbles, his lips moving to your shoulder blade. “I can’t feel my back,” His confession sends laughter to ring from your lips, his echoing not too far behind and its the first sliver of decency you’ve actually felt since you left for work that morning.

“Bring the whiskey back,” You say, turning your head to seek out his lips and when they plant along yours you can’t help but hum. 

“Don’t like it when you’re upset,” Ivar adds, slowly creeping away from you, slipping back out and you climb through the sheets. In the plush oasis you curl around with the duvet, watching Ivar pull back as his eyes scan to find the path where his clothes were haphazardly flung. Red boxers are back on and he’s looming back over you, grabbing your cheeks to push them together with his fingers as he places his mouth on yours. “You’re not a bitch,” He tells you as his lips move only millimeters from yours.

“I’ll be the first to admit that I am,” You say, cheeks still squished together and Ivar can’t help but smile. He’s back a few seconds later with the bottle, tossing it to roll along the sheets and you’re quick to take a hearty swig. “Is he taking new clients?” You ask as he climbs in beside you.

“She is,” Ivar says back, palm out reached and you hand him the bottle.

“You have a lady therapist?” You say and he nods, setting the bottle back on the night stand. 

“We’ll talk about it in the morning,” Ivar tells you and you turn, moving to rest back along the sheets and his head comes down on your chest, slinging an arm loosely over your waist as he gets comfortable. And then he’s squeezing you closer as your hand take to his hair. “Wait—hold on,” Ivar says after a minute, laying back next to you and you’re suddenly pulled, laid across his chest as your naked body moves limply and he snickers at how easily your limbs are oozing. His arms are around you then, pushing hair from your face as he curls the ends around his fingertips, sliding those same digits down your spine, the swell of your bare ass, and then back up again. The warmth of his hand presses against you as you rest over him and he pulls the covers back over the two of you. “That’s better.” Ivar whispers and he presses his lips against your hair.

“Thank you Ivar,” You say from your spot.

“You’re welcome baby, get some rest,”

“I love you,” and Ivar squeezes his arms around you once more as you say that, the words always sounding better each time you speak them.

“I love you too Y/N,”

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[kumqu4t]

In (Gold) Sickness and In Health

Pairing: Human Female!Reader/Thorin

Request: @anjhope1 requested a human reader with Thorin for the prompt: “I’m done. We’re done.”

Brief Summary: After the Battle of the Five Armies and Thorin’s actions under the Gold Sickness, you wonder if things between you and Thorin will ever be repaired.

Warnings: Violence and injuries

A/N: Gold sick Thorin is a gold mine (pun intended) for angst. Thanks to @anjhope1 for being so so patient and kind!!! I’ve never really written anything other than headcannons and I really enjoyed this!! I have a long list of fic ideas that I hope to write after school ends and this really got the ball rolling! :D

 @fromthedeskoftheraven (who inspired me to actually start writing <333)

 —————————————

 “Thorin?” You called into the seemingly empty castle. Your voice echoed hauntingly. No response. You turned the corner and ventured into the treasury, though a part of you hoped you would not find him there. It was the only place he ever seemed to be, and not for good reason. You followed the sound of digging and hushed whispers. There you found Thorin talking to himself in furious murmurs, his voice tinged with hysteria. He seemed to be digging through the millions of glimmering treasures, bringing each item close to his face for a thorough inspection, and then scoffing angrily and throwing it over his shoulder at the discovery that it was not, in fact, the Arkenstone. You approached him quietly, gnawing on your bottom lip worriedly. You were soon only a few steps behind him, his back to you, yet he made no notice of you.

“Thorin?” He didn’t even flinch. You, about fed up with all of this, put your hand on one of his shoulders and lightly shook it. He whirled around instantly, a mad expression on his face that only eased slightly when he saw you.

 “Ah, (Y/n). How have you been?” He asked absentmindedly, his gaze still stuck on the gem in his hand. 

“Well, I’ve been better I suppose. Things are not looking good out there Thorin. I worry.” You made sure to keep your voice as non-confrontational as possible, because if you were being honest, you were a bit afraid of Thorin at the moment. You weren’t sure if you even recognized the dwarf in front of you. He finally raised his eyes to look at you. His lips curved into a slightly mad smile, one that showed altogether too many teeth. “You have nothing to worry about, my love. Once I have the Arkenstone, everything will be taken care of. The world will finally put itself to rights.” His eyes seemed to reflect the very gold covering the floor. You frowned at this response. 

“Thorin, I know finding the Arkenstone is important to you, but I don’t know if it is the… greatest concern at the moment. The people of Laketown need our assistance, and there is talk of an orcish army heading our way.” Thorin’s head snapped up, and he took an intimidating step forward. You were almost nose to nose.

“Finding the Arkenstone is my one and only concern, as it should be yours,” he snarled. “Are you not on my side? Do you not want to see me as King?” You took a tentative step back. 

“Of course I’m on your side, Thorin. I only want what is best for you.” Your voice turned stern. “But a King should be generous and fair, should know when to help others. 

“A King,” he growled, “is measured only by the amount of wealth he has. If I don’t have the Arkenstone, I have nothing but these pathetic jewels.” You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Your stomach churned at hearing the words he spoke. This was not Thorin. The man you knew and loved, who once spoke so passionately of honor and loyalty. Your sadness and grief were soon overpowered by anger. Not only does he speak such horrid, greedy words, but he would dare be so dismissive and uncaring towards his own beloved? 

“You have nothing?” You asked in disbelief, your voice hard. “What about me? Your wife, remember? What do I mean to you? We have spent almost no time with each other since Laketown, I am surprised you even remember my name,” you said bitterly. Thorin’s eyes seemed to lighten a few shades. But it was still not your Thorin. And his next words only proved that. 

“I have not forgotten about you amralime. I will have you. Seated on a throne next to mine. Adorned in precious jewels and fine cloths. My most prized possession.” 

You suddenly lost all of your fear. Fists clenched tight at your sides, you spat out, “I am not a thing to be had! I am my own person.” 

“You are my wife!” He roared back, “You will do as I say, and you will like it!” Your lip curled in disgust and dismay at this.

“Is that really what you think marriage means?!” Your tone, while still angry, held a hint of desperation, as if you were hoping Thorin would apologize for whatever sick joke this seemed to be. But alas, that did not happen. He only stayed silent, his eyes unfocused. Whatever clarity they had gained earlier had once again vanished. 

The harsh silence created a lump in your throat. You swallowed once, and in a shaky voice said, “Well, then. I am afraid I don’t know what to say. I don’t even know who I am looking at. Who even are you? This is not the Thorin I know and love, not the Thorin I married!” 

His mouth opened in outrage, prepared to no doubt yell back, but you continued before he could get a word in. “You know what? I can’t do this anymore,” you started. You grabbed your marriage bead- elegantly and thoughtfully crafted by Thorin, and once so tenderly braided into your hair- and harshly ripped it out. You definitely pulled out quite a few hairs along with it, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care at the moment. 

You curled your shaking hand around the small bead, and spoke. “I’m done. We’re done.” In a fit of intense anger and disappointment, you chucked your bead straight at Thorin’s head. You instantly ran as fast as you could in the opposite direction, fearing his reaction. You figured he did not see that coming, and was frozen in shock and confusion for a moment.

As you sprinted down the vast empty hallways, you heard Thorin’s enraged roar in the distance. You ran and ran and ran. You quickly gathered your belongings when you passed the room you had been staying in, and made your way out of the mountain. You said goodbye to none of the company. You ran and you didn’t look back. You squinted your eyes, trying to find your way in what was left of the daylight. 

Tears ran in rivers down your face, and they didn’t stop. Not when you found Bard in Laketown. Not when you reunited with Bilbo and approved his plan. Not when you came across a small room to spend the night in. 

You slid down the wall of the room, sobs tearing at your throat, as you looked at the split pieces of hair that once secured your marriage bead. How could everything have gone so wrong so fast? Smaug was dead. The mountain was reclaimed. Everything was supposed to be back to normal. You were supposed to be living happily in Erebor with Thorin. 

But you weren’t.

You screamed into the night, “Why? Why?” Why did things have to happen like this? Why did Thorin have to be struck with the Gold Sickness after everything he had been through? Why did you two not gain happiness and peace? Did you not deserve that? 

There was no answer. The universe was silent. 

You were not only angry with Thorin. You were angry at yourself. Were you a coward for reacting the way you did? Did you give up too easily, running right when things got hard? Maybe you were a coward, but you simply couldn’t stand to see Thorin like that any longer. It made you sick to your stomach and tore at your heart. 

With a wet laugh, you thought back to your wedding, which took place only about a month earlier. It is odd how things can change so much in so little time. That day had been the happiest of your life. Now here you were, at your lowest, with not even your husband to comfort you. 

The company had been staying in Laketown for the time being. After a much needed relaxing night (free of the stress of orc attacks), you awoke blearily to Thorin’s smiling face. His rough hands tenderly cradled your face.

“Will you marry me?” He asked it in such a soft tone, and you were still so tired, you couldn’t help but wonder if this was just a strange, albeit wonderful, dream. After clarification that it was not, in fact, a dream, and a discussion with Thorin, you two decided to get married that very night. After all, you two were each other’s Ones. Why should you not? You were crazy in love, and you two hadn’t known contentment like you did during this resting period of the quest. There was also the lingering fear that one, or both of you wouldn’t survive for much longer. 

After your affirmative response to Thorin’s question, tears of joy were shed by both of you. That day was full of warm, fuzzy feelings (and frantic planning by Dori and Balin, who despite being quite pleased with the decision, were extremely frazzled with the short amount of time left to prepare). You didn’t have an expensive, ornate dress (you borrowed one of Sigrid’s). There wasn’t a huge crowd. Just the company (plus Sigrid, Tilda, and Bain- Sigrid and Tilda because they wanted to experience the romantic declaration of love and commitment, and Bain because, in his words, his sisters “forced him to come”). 

But it was perfect. It was all you could have wanted. Kíli, ever the jokester, insisted on being the “flower girl.” Fíli was the bead bearer (like a ring bearer, but with beads, because you and Thorin wanted to do it the dwarrow way). Balin was the justice of the peace. Bombur made a wonderful cake, especially considering the lack of resources.

It was a magical day. Your wildest dream had finally become a reality.

You remembered the vows from your wedding. You remembered the promise you made on that day. ‘For better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health.’ You couldn’t help but snort at the unfortunate irony of that. 

You wondered what Thorin was thinking right now. Was the gold sickness still plaguing his mind? Or was he too thinking back to your wedding day, to the broken promises left between you two? 

You crawled into bed and tried to calm your thoughts, to no avail. You laid your head on the flat pillow, feeling oddly numb. You let your eyes flutter shut, a lone tear escaping to trail down your now puffy face. 

No sleep was had that night. 

 ———————————————

 Around you, the battlefield raged. You had arisen early in the morning, for the orcish army was no longer just a rumor, but a promise. A promise of war. The knowledge of the bloodshed the future held electrified you, helping you to use your fear and anger to aid your fight. You wielded your sword with ferocity and confidence, a scowl on your face as you quickly swiped at the blood that dribbled down the side of your face. Your head swiveled at every sound as you frantically looked to see if you recognized any faces around you. 

You plunged your sword into an approaching orc, making a face at the horrid squelch it produced as you pulled out your blade. You ran across the battlefield, swiftly killing any orcs that dared get in your way.

What you saw in the far distance, through squinted eyes, made your heart drop into your stomach. 

You saw Thorin, fighting Azog on the ice. 

You watched as the pale orc fell off of the chunk of ice he stood on, and into the murky abyss. You prayed to all of the Valar that he was dead. But fate was not on your side. You watched in horror as a knife plunged upwards from below the ice and impaled Thorin’s right foot. 

You heard his guttural roar of pain, and your body moved into action. You ran as fast as you could, your chest and legs burning. But you were still too far away. Everything now seemed to be happening in slow motion. You could still hear the echo of Thorin’s cry in your head. 

Suddenly, Azog jumped out of the water and landed on his feet. Thorin was on his back blocking each strike from Azog to the best of his ability. All that you heard was the sharp clang of metal against metal and your own blood roaring in your ears. 

You felt something harden within you. You were no longer afraid. You had only one job, and that was to save Thorin. Azog’s blade was now only inches away from Thorin’s chest. Thorin grit his teeth and gasped deeply, using every bit of his strength in an effort to block the attack. 

You were sprinting straight towards Azog’s back. You had absolutely no plan. Common sense and battle strategy had officially left the building. Yet your rage towards Azog, who had already taken so much from Thorin, fueled your fight. 

You propelled yourself up, in a strange burst of strength, and clawed your way up Azog’s back, clinging to him. He grunted and twisted his head around. But before he could do anything more, you drove your sword into his back with all of your might. 

Azog’s roar seemed to shake the very ground he stood on. Your hands, slick with sweat, burned as they tightly grasped the hilt of your sword. Your heart sped up as you tried to pull your weapon out to strike once again, but it was stuck. Azog turned, his face now pulled into a sickly sneer, and he slashed at your shoulder with his sword. You hissed in pain, and jerked yourself away. You saw Thorin breathing deeply and attempting to get up out of the corner of your eye. 

Go, you screamed at him in your head. Go, my love. Leave and get to safety. 

Seeing Thorin in pain, thanks to Azog, filled you with a boiling rage. It filled you up from the bottom of your feet to the top of your head- a fiery, molten lava swirling inside of you. 

Your lips twisted into a ferocious snarl as your hands tightened on the hilt of your sword. You twisted the sword further into Azog’s wound, plunging it deeper into his mangled flesh. As you twisted one last time, you pulled it out with a hard gasp. Azog’s stinking, black blood splattered your neck and arms.

You still clung to the pale orc’s back and shoulders, your nails digging into his scarred skin. He thrashed and blindly slashed at you, but you held tight still. You kept your mind sharp, blocking and ducking to avoid his stabs. Reaching your hand into your bloodstained tunic, you hurriedly patted yourself down, frantically searching, until your hand was greeted by your hidden blade. 

You grabbed the hilt of the sharp knife and whipped it out. You positioned yourself so that your feet were pressing into Azog’s back. You drew your arm back and threw the blade, with masterful precision, into the back of Azog’s neck. He roared once again, his head spasming, and made to grab you. 

Unfortunately, this time, you were unable to avoid his grasp. His sharp nails dug into your neck as he grabbed you and pulled your body off of his back. He held you in front of him with only his right hand, the blade at the end of his metal arm pointed at your throat. You felt the pressure building on your throat, and a low buzzing noise started to take over. The blade dug painfully into your flesh, and you felt it begin to break the skin. All of your previous confidence had vanished. You were now at the mercy of the pale orc. 

Azog gave a sickening smile, his pointed teeth glistening with blood. He issued a raspy chuckle that chilled you to your core. Time seemed to slow down once again as he drove the blade of his arm into your side. You gave a sharp intake of breath, as if you could not fathom what was happening, before you let loose an ear-splitting yell of pain. Your voice crumbled and cracked as you screamed until your vocal cords were weak. In the back of your subconscious, you registered a voice, desperately screaming your name. You struggled uselessly, trying to escape the pain. The blade felt hot, as if your insides were being lit on fire and seared open. You wondered for a moment why he did not completely skewer you, and quickly rid himself of your bothersome presence, until it hit you. He wanted your death to be agonizing. Slow and painful. You felt the blade being slowly pushed deeper in, creating a sickening puncturing sensation, and you could do nothing. It must have been almost halfway through you at this point. He tightened his other hand around your throat, and you saw spots floating at the edges of your line of vision. 

You were dancing at the edge of oblivion, barely holding onto consciousness, when you felt your hand which dangled at your side, still clutching your sword. A glimmer of hope sparked inside you. With a guttural cry of pain, you used your last bit of strength. Your arm elongated at your side and rose before you swiftly cleaved Azog’s head from his shoulders. Your face was promptly sprayed with his blood and innards, before his hold on your neck loosened, his grasp slack. His severed head hit the ground with a satisfying klunk, his eyes glazed over. His body collapsed to the ground with a loud thud, bringing you down with him. 

You gave a low groan of pain at the impact. Azog’s arm, still impaled in the side of your torso, left the two of you attached. You slowly took your sword, whimpering softly at the painful stretching the motion caused, and sawed off the small bit of flesh that attatched the metalwork to his body. You were left sitting on the ice, a blade sticking out of you, as a ringing filled your ears. You heard your name being called, and a blurry figure made its way into your field of vision. You squinted your eyes, trying to see who it was. Once your vision cleared, you breathed a shaky sigh of relief.

Thorin was here. 

He hobbled over to you, his wounded foot dragging behind him. He lowered himself to the ice slowly. He looked at you with such sorrow as he scooted closer and cupped your face. His warm hands grounded you to reality. You felt every callous on them as he softly ran his fingers along the sides of your face, his touch only a whisper. 

“Ghivashel,” he started, his voice cracking. “I-

“No,” you interrupted, your voice hoarse from the abuse it had endured. You gave a pathetic cough and said once more in a slightly stronger voice, “No. Not right now.”

Tears ran down his face, their clean tracks a stark contrast to the dirtied skin it ran down. “I am so sorry. So very sorry. I cannot even begin to apologize for all I have-“

You reached forward and put your finger against Thorin’s lips. You gave a soft smile. “I know,” you replied. You brushed his hair out of his face gently. “We have much to discuss. Many things have been left unsaid.” You gazed into his warm blue eyes, “But right now, just be here. Be here with me, my love.”

Thorin’s lips quivered slightly as he gave a sad smile of agreement. He gently positioned you so that your head was resting in his lap. You gazed up into his face. The soft cloth of his tunic tickled the back of your neck. The warmth of his body was much more comforting compared to the harsh cold of the ice you both lie on. The pain would have been almost unbearable, but Thorin’s presence was like a balm to both your soul and body. He took on a tinge of panic as his eyes locked onto the blade sticking out of your side. Knowing he should not simply pull the weapon out, he quickly tore fabric from his body and wrapped your side with it, securing the sword into place, so it wouldn’t move and cause more damage. You reached out and grasped his hand, your fingers shaking slightly as they ran over his bloodied knuckles. 

“Thorin,” you rasped. “You are here.”

“Aye,” he replied softly, his eyes glistening in the light. 

“My bead,” you begged. Thorin looked confused for a moment, before understanding lit up his eyes. He pulled out your marriage bead, that you had thrown at him not long ago, from inside his tunic. He had evidently kept it on himself. He took your hair into his hands, and quickly wove a small braid into your hair, placing the bead at the end of it. He moved aside his own hair, showing you his marriage bead that still lie in his own braid. You gave a watery smile as you clutched at his hand.

After a pause, you spoke. “You are mine, and I am yours.”

“Always,” he replied, his voice strong. “My wife,” he added after a moment, the word an unspoken promise. My husband, you thought warmly. He ducked his head down to meet your own, and placed a soft, lingering kiss on your lips, his hand cradling the back of your neck. You responded in kind, deepening the kiss. You felt as if the part of yourself that had broken earlier had been sewn back together. You were whole again. You let out a soft sigh of contentment as Thorin pressed his forehead gently to rest on your own, his eyelids fluttering shut in the moment.

The King slid himself down, so that he too was laying down. Your head rested on his chest. His large hand rubbed soothing circles gently on your back as you breathed shakily in and out. You gazed out over the ice and saw eagles flying in the distance. You gave a grin of relief and squeezed Thorin’s hand. Healers were rapidly bustling about, gathering the wounded and tending to them. You had no doubt that you and Thorin would receive the help you required soon. 

But for now, you were here. And he was here. You were together at last, once again. Your hands intertwined in each other’s, your head tucked under his chin as he planted soft kisses on your head and murmured soothing words into your hair.

“My King,” you said softly, petting the soft hair of his beard as your hand ran over his jaw.

“My Queen,” he responded, his voice full of emotion, as he pulled you into one more kiss, your bodies melding closer together.

The eagles were coming. And all was well.

 ——————————————

  A/N 2: I hope you guys liked that! I am very new to writing, so I know I have lots of room for improvement, but I really enjoyed writing this. By the way, I do not picture Thorin and the reader dying at the end, but it is kind of a vague ending, so if you want to imagine that happening, no problem! (It would be quite tragically romantic, them dying in each other’s arms). Though personally, I like to imagine that they both eventually recover from their injuries and everyone lives happily ever after in Erebor with their beloved King and Queen under the mountain! :)

[superanimeidiot]

Karma decks Gakuhou (or: the moment we’ve all been waiting for)

Haha, yeah, you know that time Gakuhou hit Gakushuu and sent him flying into a wall?

Yeah, Karma kinda has a problem with that.

TW: discussion of child abuse. Not super graphic, but be aware.

As a kid, Karma always thought he would be the one to first know the feelings of his father’s hands against his face. He’d longed for it, almost - that sign his father cared about him enough to get angry, to be angry enough to hit him. He’s constructed the entire scene in his head and played it on a loop: Karma, saying the wrong thing or moving the wrong way as he always seemed to do in his father’s presence; Gakuhou, frustrated and empty of patience; the sight of his father’s hand rising in the air; the helpless knowledge of what was to come; the numb acceptance of the blow; and, finally, the loud smack! and sting of flesh. Karma knows this fantasy like he knows the scars on his hands. Gakuhou never needed force to hurt him, though; his words and the ever-present look of distant disapproval was more than enough to leave lasting, if not physical, scars.

Still, if his father ever was to hit one of his children, Karma would have bet on himself. The idea of his father hitting Gakushuu - his precious, perfect golden child who mastered every lesson taught with haughty ease - has never even crossed his mind. Until today.

Karma stares at the bruise blooming ugly across Gakushuu’s cheek. He thinks he knows what it’s from and who caused it, but he doesn’t know. Gakushuu is staring right back, eyes hard as steel, and he wonders if this is how Gakushuu felt when Karma was showing up to class bruised and angry.

“Was it him?” he asks, and he doesn’t need to clarify who him is; they both know who he’s referring to.

“Yeah,” Gakushuu says. “Guess he finally got tired of using his words.” He smiles too, like this is funny. Like this whole situation - like the purple and green mark on his face - is one big, funny, ha-ha, hold-your-sides-until-you’re-crying joke. Karma wants to strangle him.

No, actually, he wants to strangle Gakuhou. Karma turns on his heel and moves to do just that, but Gakushuu grabs his wrist and drags him back.

“Stop,” he says, exasperated, as though talking to a child. “I’m fine. I’ve taken harder hits when sparring.”

“You think that makes it better?” he asks, incredulous as he tries to free himself from his brother’s iron grasp. “You know the difference between being hit while sparring and being hit by your father? One of them is illegal.”

Gakushuu frowns. Karma, sensing the waver in his brother’s certainty, takes full advantage. He twists his wrist away and breaks the hold, but immediately seizes Gakushuu’s own wrist, holding him still and demanding his attention.

“Gakushuu,” he says. He taps a gentle finger against the bruise marring his stupid, perfect face. “This is not okay.”

Gakushuu breathes - a long, slow inhale he holds for a few seconds then releases in a gusty sigh. “I know.”

Karma chews at his lip, hesitating, before asking, “Has he ever-”

“No,” Gakushuu denies, quick and firm and leaving no room for argument. “He’s never done this before.”

“You’d tell me?” Karma presses. “If he has, or if he does again?”

“Yes.”

“Promise me,” he demands. 

“Who’s the older brother here again?”

“Promise me.”

“Okay, okay,” Gakushuu relents, cracking a tiny grin that looks more real than any of the smiles he pastes on for his lackeys. “I promise I’ll tell you if he hits me again.”

Karma, solemn as a funeral, holds up a single pinkie. 

Gakushuu eyes it. “Seriously?”

He nods.

Gakushuu sighs again. Rolling his eyes, he wraps his pinkie around Karma’s. “I promise,” he repeats.

Karma releases his pinkie, mollified for the moment. “Okay,” he says, then abruptly changes the subject. “So I was planning on making you buy me ice cream since, you know, I scored the highest on finals.” He flashes a smug grin at his brother’s groan. “But now I feel bad for you, so I guess I’ll buy you ice cream. I am the kindest, most loving and adorable little brother in the world, after all,” he preens. 

Gakushuu stares at him. “You’re insane,” he says flatly. “You have so many screws loose, I’m surprised your head is still attached.”

Karma squawks indignantly, poking his brothers harshly in the ribs while crying mean! mean! while Gakushuu tries to fend him off. The tense atmosphere has faded, for now, and they’re both happy to see it go. 

The conversation isn’t entirely finished, though. Later, Karma will probe into what life was like with just Gakuhou as a parent, and Gakushuu will ask pointed questions about the origin of the injuries Karma would always show up to class with and brush off. They will both get angry, they will both shout, and they will both part ways frustrated and hurt and so, so scared. Even later than that, though, they will both apologize (with a hug) and all will be forgiven, but not entirely forgotten.

They both learned a long time ago to always look after each other, even when no one else would, and those instincts, while rusty from misuse, still hold as strong as when they were little boys whispering promises through the sound of their parents screaming.

****

Later, Karma knocks on the front door of his childhood home. He hasn’t been there since he was eight years old, and maybe if he could feel anything other than the ice cold rage flowing through his veins he would be afraid or lost in the melancholy of past memories, but he can’t and he’s not. He pounds on the door again. 

He expects a maid to answer the door, but when it opens he’s greeted with the sight of his father, barefoot and dressed casually, blinking at him in surprise.

“Karma?” he says. Maybe he was going to say something else too, but that’s all he gets out before Karma punches him in the face.

Karma has had a lot of practice hitting people. He’s good at it. He knows how far to pull his arm back, how to keep his wrist locked against impact, how to twist his hips for more power, and how to pour his whole body into a punch that leaves his target breathless (or, once, unconscious). He was good at it when he was fighting thugs on the street, and he got even better when Karasuma drilled proper martial arts concepts like form and technique into his head. Karma is naturally strong, and a year of hardcore physical training only added to that strength. 

The point of this being: when Karma slams his fist against his father’s face, Gakuhou, unprepared for such an attack and faced with a trained, rage-fuelled combat assassin, goes down like a sack of rocks.

Karma doesn’t follow him. He stays standing in the doorway, chest heaving with barely-contained fury. His father pulls himself up so he’s sitting rather than sprawling across the floor, staring up at Karma with wide eyes as though he’s never seen him before. He hasn’t, really - not like this, anyway. In his father’s presence, Karma had molded himself into the perfect child; he was quiet, and sweet, and well-behaved. He said please, thank you, excuse me, I’m sorry. He was everything he thought his father wanted, but it didn’t matter because it still was never enough. 

Karma hasn’t been that kid in a long time.

“That,” he says, flexing his hand and ignoring the sting of split knuckles, “was for Gakushuu. Maybe he won’t punch you back for your crap, but I will.” He crouches down, then, so he can stare his father right in the eyes. “This is your only warning. If you ever, ever, lay a hand on him again…” He flicks his wrist, and his switch-blade makes a brief, grim appearance before disappearing up his sleeve again. He looks directly into his father’s eyes, and he lets him see the resolve burning in his own. “I swear to God, it’ll be the last thing you do.”

Gakuhou nods, both an acknowledgement and acceptance. Karma smiles the cold, satisfied smile of an assassin and stands, knocking his knuckles against the door-frame as he leaves.

He shoves his hands in his pockets as he walks off down the street, whistling merrily to himself. Gakushuu will probably be mad at him later - if he finds out, of course - but Karma refuses to regret his actions. No one, not even their father, is allowed to lay a hand on Gakushuu and get away with it. That is Karma’s promise, made to himself and sealed with his father’s blood spilled in retribution.

He’ll keep it until the day he dies.

[bluefirewrites]

While You Sleep

One shot based off a Juke headcanon I had about protective Luke. This is for this momentous March 4th JATP trending day. Here’s to clowning with you!

___________

She noticed him there one night. An almost indistinguishable blob huddled out her window, dark clothes blending in with the shingles, the trees- the night.

It was too late for either of them to be up.

Yes, Julie was aware that ghosts had no need to sleep. No bodies meant no circadian rhythm.

But he wasn’t supposed to be there.

Rubbing her eyes and groping her desk for her glasses, Julie tiptoed across the room, mindful not to make too much noise. It was past midnight after all.

She cracked open her window, the slight breeze playing with her hair as she stuck her head out.

“Luke?” she called, startling the ghost.

“Julie!” He all but yelped. Normally cool and confident, Luke Patterson scrambled, limbs moving wildly, “Uh, hey. What are you- What are you doing up?” he coughed then shot her a smile.

Would have been that perfect smile Julie had raved about to Flynn if it hadn’t come off as hesitant, as a ruse. It didn’t push against his cheeks like they were supposed to. If he hadn’t been a ghost, she would have chalked it up to fatigue.  

She nodded her head at the door, “I had to go to the bathroom.”

A yawn snuck out her mouth. Luke’s eyes softened at the sound.

“You should go back to sleep,”

Julie looked him over again, noting his attire. A beanie, his torn up jeans, and… that flannel. The brown one.

She shimmied out and carefully sat next to him on the roof, knees pulled up like his was, “Luke, is something wrong?”

“No. Just get back inside,” he urged, shooing her away. And when she didn’t budge, his tone grew a tad bit more authoritative, “Julie, I mean it. Go to bed.”

“I’ll go when you tell me why you’re out here,” She may be tired, but two could play this stubborn game. And as if she was going to bed without figuring out what’s bothering Luke.

His shoulders rose and sunk, “To think. For some privacy,”

It came out as more of a question, as if he wasn’t entirely committed to that story. At Julie’s judgemental silence, he continued spinning.

“Not sure if you know this, but Alex and Reggie?” he leaned in, hands cupping his mouth, “They can be a bit much.” he stage-whispered teasingly.

She raised an eyebrow, “Alex and Reggie?”

“They’re, like, so,so loud. Real annoying. Very hyper,” he said, “Like I tell them ‘Boys, keep it down’, ya know?”

“Uh-huh,”

She wondered if he legitimately thought this was working on her. And Julie thought she was terrible when put on the spot.

“You have the power to poof literally anywhere and everywhere, yet you choose my roof?”

Seriously, out of all the places to get privacy, Luke thought being a couple feet away from her window was enough seclusion.

Again, he shrugged, emoting a  ‘don’t know what to tell ya’, which only irritated Julie even more.

She scooted over, getting into his space, but the ghost wasn’t allowing it, bringing up his arms to keep her at bay, and maybe to move her in the direction of the window.

“Luke, enough with the games just tell me what’s going on-” she reached for him and ended up grazing his ever-jerking shoulder. Her hand landed on something behind him.

It wasn’t a shingle or a leaf. Whatever it was, her finding it made Luke’s eyes widen and had him stuttering out pleas to leave it alone.

With cat-like reflexes she wasn’t aware she had at this hour, Julie grabbed it before he could swipe it away.

Under the moonlight, she inspected the item in her hands, confused.

“Salt?” It was the same can of salt that Carlos had tried to use on the boys, supposedly trying to ‘burn their souls out’, “Why do you have this?”

Luke chuckled nervously, “Oh that? Well that’s just… that’s because...” he faltered, “Because…”

He sighed dejectedly.

“Uh, you mind waiting a couple minutes? While I come up with an excuse?” he tried, his usual charm doing nothing for Julie at the moment.

She stared at him, hard and unwavering. “I don’t like it when you lie to me, Luke.”

The ghost deflated. His features tightened, almost pained.

“I never want- argh-” he growled, pounding at the surface before cradling his head, frustrated, “Look, I never wanted to lie to you.”

“Then why do you do it?” her voice warbled as she pressed. He still did this? After all they had been through together? It hurt her to think about, somewhat insulting.

But of course there must be a reason. A good one because whatever he was hiding, it was clearly weighing heavy on him. Much like when he had visited his parents. And when he was suffering from the stamps…

“Something happened,” she surmised.

Luke didn’t want to admit it, she sensed that. But she could sense his resolve breaking, the more she looked at him, looked into his stormy hazel eyes.

Julie inched near him and the moment her hand came up to rest on his shoulder, his whole body shuddered, his breathing becoming less controlled- God, he was falling apart, as if he had spent so long bottled up, the pressure only escaping out now.

He kept shaking his head, refusing to let it happen, but Julie’s hand moved to his other shoulder, pulling herself towards him, her left side locking into his right. He practically melted, and with unplanned synchronicity, their heads rested against each others’.

They sat there, the quietest they had ever been with each other, but the moment screaming something that Julie had yet to decipher.

She thought she could speak ‘Luke’ by now. No two people could engage in something as personal as songwriting without picking up a thing or two on how the other person thinks, feels...

A sort of jitteriness existed in him and all Julie knew was that she just needed to quell it, to calm him down. Her fingers traced patterns into his shoulder, dancing en pointe to the rhythm of her breathing, and soon Luke’s. Slow and steady.  

“The night of the Orpheum,” he finally said, “after you left. We were gonna meet you there, I swear we were. But then…”

“Caleb?” she dared to speak his name out loud.

With the way Luke’s form tensed under her arm, she regretted it.  

He swallowed hard, withdrawing his head from its comfortable position against hers so he could look at her properly.

“He was here, Julie,” he gritted out.

Her stomach dropped.

Caleb had been here. At her house.

Logically, it was to be expected. He was a ghost, like the boys, able to go anywhere and everywhere. It made sense to come here to get them.

But the fact that he could…The fact that he had...

This man, who could so easily inflict pain, who had no qualms in threatening non-existence to three teenage boys, all because they wouldn’t do what he wanted, had been in her home.

The thought rattled her, and she was almost close to losing her regular breathing pattern. Sensing this, Luke’s hand shot out and coated hers, quick to soothe with guilty fingers.

None of them ever told her this. Of how they ended up at the club before the Orpheum. They must have wanted to shield her from the distress, taking it upon themselves the burden of worrying. Worrying when he would come back. If he ever came back.

“Look, Caleb’s this all powerful ghost. The things he’s capable of,” he shut his eyes, breathing deeply, “I don’t like knowing that he knows where you-”

He couldn’t bring himself to finish, voice cracking. Instead,  his hand reached for the can of salt, stealing it back.

Julie noticed it. In the way he held the can, that he didn’t need to open his eyes to grab it; it was instinct. If his palm had been large enough, he could encapsulate the whole thing. He couldn’t be gripping it any tighter.

“But Luke…” she tried to remind him gently.

“I know this doesn’t do anything. Doesn’t burn souls or whatever,” he slammed it down on the roof, “But it’s better than nothing.”

Julie bit her lip, not wanting to ask, dreading the answer.

“Have you been up here? Every night since?”

Luke hesitated.

Oh.

“I don’t spy on you or anything. I’m not a creep or-” he tried, “I just wanna make sure. Make sure you’re alright.”

Julie was at a loss for words.

She didn’t know what to feel. The gesture would have warmed her heart if the visual that presented itself wasn’t so utterly devastating.

The Orpheum performance had been months ago.

That meant many nights of Luke keeping vigil on her roof, outside her room, clutching onto that can of salt like a lifeline, always on edge. Never sleeping, just… sitting there in silence. Anticipating for some attack.

That could drive any person mad.

He didn’t tell the boys either. She knew that. Otherwise they would be up here with him, all armed with their own cans of salt.

Luke bore the burden of worrying.

And he did it alone.

Julie cursed herself for not picking up on it sooner, but there was never any residue of the anxious nights. The electric smile at its full wattage always greeted her when she woke up and visited the studio first thing before leaving for school.

But she should have noticed. Noticed in the way Luke’s gaze seemed to linger on her for a beat too long when he thought she wasn’t looking. In the way he embraced her, squeezing her tight, reluctant to let her go even so she could go to school.

She had always thought it was him relishing in the ability to touch her, never taking it for granted after months of never thinking such a thing was possible.

Finding out why- it hurt. It hurt knowing how much Luke was hurting and he didn’t let it slip once.

All to protect her.

“You don’t have to keep watch, Luke...” she didn’t want to put him through that anymore. Her peace of mind should never be at the expense of Luke’s. She refused.

He shook his head, “No, I do. Because if anything happened to you, I wouldn’t- I couldn’t-”

“Hey. I should be the one who’s worried. You guys almost…” she stopped, not wanting to dwell...

“Look. you’re who he wants. Not me. I should be the one to be,” she eyed the can of salt “to be standing guard outside the studio, protecting you.”

“We’d never want for you to put yourself in danger. Not for us. No way,”

“Well that’s tough because there’s no way I’m gonna let him take you away from me again,” she cried, desperate.

That gave Luke pause and she realized her mistake.

She had meant to say ‘you guys’.

But also at the same time, she didn’t.  

The moment of vulnerability made her want to run and hide, but it was already too late. The damage was done. Luke blinked at her, stunned and sad.

His hand on top of hers shifted, curling around until he was holding it, thumb grazing her knuckles,  “I’m not going anywhere, Julie,” he promised, “We’re not.” he corrected for her.

“Well, neither am I,”

It should feel like a lie. What both of them said.

Nothing about their situation was fixed. A promise from a ghost to Lifer and vice versa shouldn’t mean anything. Not when he could leave, cross over to the great light at any time. Not when she could grow old and leave him behind along with the memories of her teen years.

Their interesting little relationship was already doomed. No Caleb required.

But she meant it. And that felt like enough.

Luke meant it. And it was.  

She wished she could enjoy this.

Another agonizing silence flowed between them, and soon Luke’s hand left, the echo of his touch chilled by the night. She pocketed both of her hands in her sweatpants.

“How did you break free?” she asked, “You were at the club, right? How were you able to get out?”

Luke smiled, “You called. And we came. Duh.”

She sang. Somehow her singing had summoned them, had brought her boys back to her. It had always been that way sorta. There was this feeling she had ever since she played their demo, that there was something tethering them together.

They always knew where to find her. And when.

At first, it annoyed her. Like, who wanted three new responsibilities?

But now it gave her comfort.

She needed to voice this to Luke.

“You can’t be sitting here every night. It doesn’t help anyone for you to be on edge all the time,”

He opened his mouth to interject, but she kept going.

“I know. I know you can’t just turn off all your worrying. It’s scary not knowing what’s gonna happen,” She sneaked one last squeeze to his hand, “But If anything does happen, you’ll know. And you’ll be here” she snapped her fingers, “just like that.”

“But-”

“For me. Please,” she had to say, desperate.

And she watched as any further arguments died on his lips. She was lucky that it took this time.

She brushed away his bangs before cupping his face. His eyes fluttered closed at the contact. “I don’t like seeing you like this.”

That seemed to seal the deal.

“Ok. For you,” he nodded. Then he carefully guided her hand off and he cocked his head towards the open window, “You seriously need to sleep though.”  

It was her turn to nod, “I will.”

And with that, they both stood, with Luke guiding her back inside, ensuring she didn’t slip and fall off the roof. Once safe and away from the cold, she hung back, elbows perched on the window sill. Luke did the same from the outside.

“Goodnight, Julie,” he whispered.  

She smiled, a first for tonight.

“Goodnight, Luke,”

The ghost returned it, and it reached his eyes this time. He moved to leave but he froze. Pulling out the can, he opened the spout and began lining the entirety of window sill with a small stream of salt.

“Here,” he remarked upon finishing, “Just in case.”

Julie didn’t have the heart to correct him. Him standing guard may be for her benefit, but the can of salt was definitely for his.

“Thanks,” she said instead, brushing stray particles to fill any gaps in her protective barrier.

She watched him poof away before closing the window and crawling into bed and succumbing to sleep.  

********

Julie hadn’t seen Luke on her roof since.

It had been weeks and there was a definite improvement in the way Luke carried himself from then on out. It was miniscule, of course, but Julie could see it in his eyes that he had been receiving the equivalent of a well-needed slumber.

That didn’t stop him from keeping an eye on her from time to time. Though it never reached ‘stationing on the roof’ status. The boy had found a loophole and she found herself anticipating surprise visits by her locker.

She never did say anything about school.

And everything was fine.

Until it wasn’t.

Julie wasn’t sure why it took so long for the fear that Caleb’s visit had instilled to rear its ugly head.

But it did.

And in the form of nightmares no less.

It was the night of the Oprheum all over again, except when she launched herself at Luke, she merely passed through. No magical hug to save them, she was forced to watch as those jolts, those painful jolts, slowly killed them.

She remembered screaming and crying, the looks on the boys' faces when their light had been snuffed out, when they were nothing more than shimmering particles that faded away into nothing, it was something she never ever wanted to see again.

Her body jerked awake, her body sweating and she was startled to find the screams and cries had followed her- her face damp and her throat coarse. Bringing her knees to her chin, the horror of what she had witnessed was still fresh in her mind, and she was sobbing.

In the midst of all this, she barely registered the tugging feeling, somewhere deep inside her, somewhere she couldn’t really place.

Then suddenly, a telltale sound of a ghost poofing in diminished her cries.

“Julie. Julie!” she heard Luke, frantic. His form, blurred by her tears, moved about the room until he was sitting at the foot of her bed. “A-Are you okay? I felt it, I felt you calling-”

She wiped her face with her sweater sleeve, readjusting to reality, “I’m- I’m fine. It’s just-” she sniffled, “I had a nightmare.”

Once Luke’s face came in view, the nightmare image of his disappearing out of existence overwhelmed her again and some wayward tears flowed against her better judgement.

“Hey,” he moved and was at her side immediately, drawing her to him, “Sh. It’s okay. You’re okay.”

She buried her face into his chest just to make sure. Because forget her. He was okay. Caleb didn’t take him away from her. He was still here.

The tears she was shedding were ones of pure relief.

It had been awful. For a second, she was powerless. She had felt that way when she lost her mom, her sickness taking hold. She couldn’t stop it from taking her mom, and that left her feeling so hollow.

Julie wouldn’t know what to do if it happened again. If it happened to her boys.

She didn’t know how long Luke held her, wiping her cheeks dry with his thumbs and keeping her hair from clinging to her forehead. But somehow during all this, they both had reclined on her bed, the worst of it having passed.

Even when she had stopped crying, his arms still encased her.

“What can I do?” he asked, unsure, “Tell me. What can I do?”

“Just…” her fists curled around his shirt, her breathing steadying and eyes pleading, “Can you stay here? With me?”

He nodded,resolute, “I’m not going anywhere.”

Julie sighed and she was struck with that promise they made weeks ago. And she allowed herself to relax into him.

It should scare her. How much she trusted him. To be there. There weren't any guarantees in life. Not for her. Especially not for him.

But she called.

And he came.

A constant.

And as much as she didn’t want him to worry about her, she knew that she wouldn’t easily be able to not worry about him.  

And encased in arms that would phase through others, and even with the threat of Caleb still hanging over their heads, Julie never felt more safe.

He wasn’t supposed to be here. Not in this house. Not in this time of 2020.

But he was.

And she slept peacefully from then on.  

tagging @blush-and-books and @lydias--stiles (I will sleep now)

[imabookadict]

not that I don't love az but could you do an az x reader angsty one shot? full on fighting, yelling n screaming, just 100% pain.. az and his mate who's been drifting from him because of her own insecurities and not to steal from one tree hill, but az saying "I'm not pushing you away, I'm holding on for dear life. why din't you tell me about the pills and why din't you call me when you needed me, why won't you ever just let me all the way in?"

i’m sorry this wasn’t as angsty and dramatic as requested, and i also didn’t proof-read so also sorry about that. but i do hope you guys don’t hate this and thank you for all the love!!<3

summary: you can’t help but feel as if your mate doesn’t want you anymore

warnings: swearing, pills, lack of sleep and eating, mental health, low self-esteem, panic attacks

Azriel was late. Again.

You sighed quietly, and put down the book you had been reading as an attempt to distract yourself. Of course he was late again. It seemed as if he was never home anymore.

A part of you believed it was you. Maybe he got tired of your sarcastic comments and teasing jokes, your trust issues and random mood swings. Maybe he realized you weren’t enough. Or perhaps he just fell out of love.

He also could’ve found someone knew- it wouldn’t have surprised you. Azriel was beautiful- glorious tanned skin, sculpted body, full lips, gorgeous hazel eyes. He looked like a winged-prince straight out of a book. He could get any female- or male, you supposed. So why did he stay with you, of all people? He must feel like he has to, for the sake of the mating bond. But you could always split the bond, couldn’t you?

You were snapped out your thoughts when you heard the front door open then close, and footsteps approached where you sat on the couch in the living room. Azriel walked into view, looking dreadful to be home. “Hello, darling.”

You wished he wouldn’t pretend to care. You wished he would just admit he couldn’t stand to be here- in this apartment- with you. But he never did. You gave him your best attempt at a smile. “Hey, Az.”

Your mate’s brows furrowed, and he frowned. “Are you all right, Y/n? You look exhausted.”

You felt it, too.

“I’m fine. How was work?”

His frown deepened at your attempt to change the subject, but he answered your question. “It was alright. We still don’t know how the wards around Velaris were broken, and I’ve been talking to Elain a lot in hope that she may be-“

You drowned out his voice when you heard the name. Elain.

It was probably her. Azriel must’ve grown tired of you, and began talking to her about you. She had never been too fond of you, just close-lipped smiles and little ‘hellos’. They probably talked about all your flaws and non-lady-like traits at dinners they secretly planned. Your heart dropped into your stomach at the thought.

“Love, you aren’t alright. What’s going on? Are you sick? You’re pale.” Azriel was crouching in front of you now, and tears were beginning to pool in your eyes. It was her it was her it was her.

“Why are you never home?” You could barely hear your own voice over the roaring in your ears. Oh Cauldron, you were going to begin hyperventilating soon and completely break down in front of him like a pathetic child.

Azriel frowned again, confusion written across his face. “I have work. What’s the matter, little love?”

Little love. He called you that because of how short you were compared to his tall frame. Did he call her that too?

“Do you love me?” You blinking furiously, determined to wait until you could excuse yourself to the washroom to break down. Those pills were still there from months ago when you had a rough time. They would make this feel better.

Concern spread across his face, he slightly tilted his head to the side. “Yes. Why? Do you think I don’t?”

You hated yourself for thinking this. You never should’ve asked, because now, with your tears beginning to slip down your face and your lower lip trembling, he’ll feel like he has to stay with you. Azriel’s guilt would eat him alive, but he’d stay with you, even if he wasn’t happy with you but with someone else instead.

When you failed to answer, he inhaled through his nose and out through his mouth. He did that when he was losing patience. “Why would you-“

Not being able to sit here anymore, with him suddenly seeming angry and you already crying, you pushed off the couch and rushed to the washroom, locking the door behind you.

You dug through the cabinets, desperate for the pills. Desperate for help.

Little love.

It was her.

You were sobbing now, frustrated and tired. Azriel was still pounding on the door.

“Y/n, I swear to the Mother if you don’t let me in, I’ll have to break down this door. Come out and talk to me.” He sure sounded mad. Mad at you, or mad that you knew something was up, you didn’t know.

You wanted to pull out your hair when you couldn’t find the little vial containing them. You slammed the cabinet door shut, and Azriel’s knocking stopped for a moment. But then there was a flare of blue light and the door swung open, revealing your mate still in his leathers and his jaw clenched.

“Why are you like this?”

The way he talked- calm and cold, as if he didn’t know you- made your fingers begin tapping nervously on the ground. “Y-you’re mad,”

He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “I’m not mad,” his eyes darted from you to the cabinet. They narrowed as they looked back to you. “Were you searching for the pills, Y/n?”

Shit.

That’s why you couldn’t find them- he had taken them from you. You should have known. He was the spymaster, after all.

You nodded once, and he sighed and began to pace. “I found them when I was cleaning out the washroom a few weeks ago. You never told me about them. Why?”

Ignoring his question, you brought your knees up to your chest and rested your chin on them. “You’re mad. You’re p-pushing me away because it’s her. Not me. You l-love her.” Your voice was quiet, but he heard you clearly. You refused to look at him.

He was quiet for a long moment. When he didn’t start talking, you looked up at him. His hazel eyes were staring down at you, and he looked so, so sad. Unshed tears were shining in them. His voice was hoarse when he finally began speaking. “I’m not pushing you away, Y/n, I’m holding on for dear life. Why didn’t you tell me about the pills, and why won’t you just let me all the way in?”

You just stared at him. Let him all the way in? What was Azriel saying?

“What do you mean, ‘let me in all the way?’ I’ve always been open to you!”

Your mate just shook his head and lowered him onto the bathroom tiles across from you. “Not when it comes to your health. Your mental health, Y/n. I know you like to keep your emotions and thoughts all bottled up, but it needs to stop. When you do it, you’re distant. Exhausted. You don’t sleep, you barely eat, and you stay inside all day. I’m tired of worrying all the time.” He glanced to the floor. “It’s not an excuse, but that’s why I work so much. You don’t tell me anything- you’re too stubborn. Work helps me distract myself from all the worry and concern for you.”

“The pills shocked me, Y/n. It hurt to know you needed drugs to feel better. I’m a shit mate for not coming to you when I found them and asking you about it. I am so, so sorry my love for letting you deal with that alone. But I do love you, okay? You- I love you more than anything.” He was crying now, silent tears streaming down his beautiful face. You’re heart ached at the sight.

“I-I love you too. I’m sorry.” Tears were still rolling down your own face, and Azriel slowly leaned forward to kiss them away. Giving you time to pull away- you didn’t.

His lips brushed your cheek, kissing them away, one by one, and when he pulled back he smiled softly. “I’m sorry.”

You opened your mouth to tell him not to apologize, but then his brow furrowed and he spoke instead. “Who we’re you talking about when you said I loved ‘her?’”

“Elain.”

Another tear escaped his eye, and you brushed it away with your thumb. “Y/n,” he whispered. “She’s nothing to me., because you are everything.”