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#except where *anyone else’s feelings* were concerned of course
crookedfivefingers · 4 months
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“Impossibly thick, I was.”
Doctor Who . Titan Comics
The Thirteenth Doctor | Read: 201/204
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stangalina · 3 months
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I want to read a fic where Arthur discovers that Merlin is Emrys, but the conflicting feelings of affection for Merlin and hatred for magic cause him to misunderstand the nature of Emrys' existence.
His brain rationalises the situation in the only way it can, and comes to the understanding that Merlin and Emrys are two separate people living in the same body. That Emrys is living WITHIN Merlin without Merlin's knowledge.
Which, if that were true, would actually be a smart move on the sorcerer's part. Arthur would not, will not, and will NEVER execute Merlin. He's also around Arthur all day everyday, so that means he's close by to get whatever he wants or needs from the king. This only further convinces Arthur that he's correct.
He is not correct, of course. But since he's Arthur, he doesn't communicate what he has "learned" with Merlin. He doesn't want to tell his clearly unaware manservant that he's got an all powerful sorcerer buried in his brain. And he certainly doesn't want to tell anyone else out of fear it'll lead to Merlin's death. So he keeps it to himself, like an idiot, and operates every day under the assumption that Merlin is possessed by the most powerful sorcerer to ever live.
Meanwhile, Merlin is thriving. Sure it had been terrifying for Arthur to first learn about the prophecy via a loose lipped druid on the verge of death, and THEN witness Merlin using his magic in order for the thing that killed the druid to not also kill Arthur, but the reveal had gone over shockingly well all things considered.
He did get a whole week of complete silence from Arthur, followed by a few more days of being stared at in a thoroughly unsettling manner, but after that everything went back to normal. Better than normal, in fact!
It was clear that Arthur was incredibly uncomfortable with his magic, which was understandable. Arthur may be a good man, but his quality of character didn't magically erase the prejudices and experiences that had been hammered into his head over and over since he was a child. The way he seemed to be coping with it was by pretending that nothing had happened at all, which was just fine as far as Merlin was concerned.
Gaius disagreed. But what did Gaius know? Healthy communication? Don't need it.
Merlin didn't use his magic around Arthur on the day to day, even though he could be sure he wouldn't get executed for it anymore. He didn't want to make Arthur uncomfortable, so he went along with the unspoken plan of pretending that nothing had happened. Resuming the exact same routines and behaviours that he'd been doing for years now. Gradually, Arthur relaxed. Well, as much as Arthur Pendragon can relax. And life resumed as normal.
Except for one little detail.
Sometimes, Arthur would call him Emrys. Not all the time, and certainly not when people were around to hear or see. But sometimes.
When he needed help. When he needed magical help.
An enchantment on a courtier, an artifact found buried under a house, a monster wreaking havoc on a town, or a hoard of bandits descending upon the two of them in the woods. A tome, a necklace, a potion, a poison, a cure.
If Arthur called him Merlin, he wanted his manservant. If Arthur called him Emrys, he wanted his sorcerer. It was a neat little system, Merlin thought. A sort of code, just for the two of them.
Of course, this equilibrium can only exist for so long before something slips and shit gets messy. But that's all part of the fun!
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hischierswhore · 1 year
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clingy
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pairing: Lando Norris x gf!Reader
tw: none
a/n: me? writing fluff for once? well it's semi fluff. kinda like a comfort fic?? maybe? i don't really know tbh
You and Lando enjoyed hanging out with friends. Whether it was his friends or yours, you both had a great time regardless. There were also times when you would hang out with your friends alone and he would hang out with his friends alone, which of course you had no problem with. You’ve been together for 8 months now, so you had plenty of security in your relationship.
Lando currently had a few of the other drivers over at his house. All the drivers were on holiday so you were able to spend some time with Lando before he had to go back to his hectic race schedule. Unbeknownst to everyone except your boyfriend, you were upstairs watching “The Summer I Turned Pretty” on your TV.
Midway through the first two episodes, you got hungry so you went downstairs to get a snack. Just as you approached the bottom, you heard someone mention your name.
 “Is anyone elses girlfriend super clingy?” Charles asked
“Kika and I just spend a lot of time together” Pierre added
“Y/n is sometimes clingy. It can be a bit overwhelming at times” Lando answered. You heard your name and frowned as you took in his words. You were overwhelmingly clingy? You barely ever saw him.
Hearing that, you turned around and made your way back up the stairs, your appetite suddenly gone as you rushed to pack your bag and leave.
“Oh shut up, mate. Y/n is not clingy from what I’ve seen. Usually it’s you jumping on her for comfort, not the other way around. You’re absolutely whipped” George threw a bouncy ball at Lando’s head.
“Yeah I know, I’m only joking. She’s just so perfect. I love her” Lando blushed as he grabbed the bouncy ball and threw it back at George.
Just then you quietly made your way down the stairs and brushed past the group of guys without a single word as you crossed through the living room to get to the front door.
“Where are you going, love?” Lando stood up from his seat and walked towards you, grabbing your wrist to halt your movements. You turned around to face him.
“I uhm- forgot I have to go walk my sister’s turtle. Bye” You said the first lie you could come up with as you pulled your wrist out of his hold and turned around. You opened the front door and shut it behind you, praying that Lando wouldn’t follow.
Lando turned around and went back to his spot on the couch.
“Is that a thing people do here? Walking turtles?” Pierre asked, confusion written all over his face as he looked around the group for an answer.
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Ever since that night, you hadn’t been over to Lando’s house. He would call and text you to make plans, but you would come up with excuses to not be able to go. You didn’t want to seem any clingier than you supposedly were, according to Lando’s words.
After nearly a week of avoiding Lando, he’d had enough of it. You were in the process of making yourself some pancakes when your doorbell rang. You turned the stove off as your grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around your shoulders, since you were lounging around in a sports bra and shorts. You couldn’t see anything through the little peep hole so you opened the door, shocked to see Lando standing there with flowers in hand.
The smile that was once on Lando’s face turned into a frown when he saw the blanket wrapped around your body.
“Oh baby, are you feeling ill?” He was genuinely concerned. He thought you had the blanket around you because you were sick, and you still weren’t fully up to seeing him, so you joined in on his misconception.
“Yeah, I’ve got a massive cold. I don’t want to get you sick too” You made your voice sound as scratchy as possible before pretending to cough.
“I don’t care if I get sick. Let me take care of you” He said as he pushed himself into your flat. He grabbed one of your arms and dragged you to the couch, where he grabbed both of your shoulders and pushed you into a sitting position. He ran across your flat to your bathroom to get the thermometer so he could check your temperature. You knew you’d be screwed if he actually checked.
He came back moments later, the little green thermometer in hand as he took the clear cover off.
“So uhm… I don’t exactly know how to work this” Lando held the tool in his hand, trying to figure out how to use it.
“No worries. I’m just not feeling great” You fake coughed again. Lando placed the thermometer on the coffee table in front of the couch and placed his hand on your forehead. All you could think was ‘shit’.
“You feel normal. What’s going on, love?” He asked as he slowly sat down next to you.
“What do you mean?” Your voice was back to normal, yet it was quieter than it usually was.
 “You’re being all distant and shutting me out. We haven’t seen each other much. I just…did I do something?” He asked, the hurt in his voice evident as he spoke.
“I’m giving you a break” You answered and he just stared at you.
“Wh—what? A break?” He asked.
 “ Yeah, a break. I heard what you and the other drivers were saying the other night, Lando. I didn’t-” you took a moment to breathe.
 “I didn’t know that I was somehow clingy and that it bothered you” Your voice cracked as a tear streamed down your face.
He wrapped you in his arms and held you as you cried into his shirt.
“Oh my god. Let me explain everything, okay love?” He said as he slowly let go of you.
 “I did say that but what you probably didn’t hear is that I said it was a joke. You wanna know what I told them?” He said and you nodded your head.
 “I told them that I love you and that you’re perfect, because I truly do love you. You’re my girl forever. And if anyone’s clingy in this relationship, it’s quite obvious that it’s me” He joked, hoping to get a smile out of you. You laughed at his words, which resulted in a smile erupting on both your face and his. He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead before engulfing you in a hug.
“I love you. I can’t stand seeing you so upset like this. Plus the house was so lonely without you. Let’s go home?” He asked.
Home.
You always thought home was a physical place, a location. It turns out you’d found you home eight months ago.
“Home is wherever you are” You pressed a soft kiss to his lips before resting your head on his shoulder.
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BONUS
“By the way, you’ve made Pierre question whether or not walking a turtle is a real thing”
“If Pierre was confused, I know for a fact that Charles was just as confused. Plus I’ve seen people do it on TikTok, so I guess it’s a real thing”
“I also feel like they would be the type of people to actually walk around Monaco with a turtle on a leash”
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side note: rip to the pancake Y/n was making before Lando showed up
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taglist
@firehazardxx @judesgfirl @celestialams @xjval @chelseagirl98
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stairain · 1 year
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Down by the Dock.
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After telling Spencer how distant he's been, he's determined to prove just how close he can get with you.
Warnings: Soft Dom Spencer, slight angst, creampie, breeding kink, gentle sex, praise, nicknames, missionary. 
WC: 4.3K
You were sitting on the edge of the dock, lightly skidding your feet into the water of the ocean as you looked onward at the sunset. Swirls of orange, pink, and purple overtook the sky as you sat on the damp wood surface, right outside of you and Spencer’s beach house.
This was supposed to be a romantic getaway from your daily lives, a time where you could be with him as much as you wanted and needed, however, that still didn’t deter the dull ache in your chest. 
A few minutes passed, and you heard footsteps padding closer to you. Spencer walked out onto the deck with a blanket over his shoulder and his hands in his pockets. He saw you and smiled.
"Hi. Ready to watch the sunset?" He asked, gesturing to the blanket he had brought for you. You look over your shoulder at him and give him a solemn smile.
“Yeah..” Turning your head back to the sky, you bring your legs to your chest, tucking your knees under your chin.
Your boyfriend sat down next to you, wrapping the blanket over your shoulders and putting an arm around you as he did so.
"Are you okay?" He asked quietly, his tone filled with concern. You take a deep breath and let the crisp evening air flood your lungs, you look away from him as you bite your lip. 
“I don’t know, Spence..”
"Do you want to talk about it, baby?” He asked gently, rubbing your shoulders and looking at you with a gentle and comforting expression. He had always wanted you to feel the same comfort around him that he felt around you. He wanted you to know that you could come to him about anything. Spencer always did whatever it took to make you feel better, and this was no exception.
He would do anything for you, no matter what it was.
You turn your neck to look at him with glossy eyes and quickly look away. “Are we okay..?”
With a nod, he placed a gentle kiss on your forehead. He smiled comfortingly.
"Of course. We're always okay.”
He said quietly, holding you close after the kiss. He felt a sense of responsibility for you that he had never before felt for anyone else, and he wanted to make sure that you felt safe around him. He wanted to make you feel loved, cared for, and understood, so he held you close to him. 
"What can I do to make us better than ‘okay’”? He asked, knowing you needed comfort. You shook your head at his words and sniffed.
“I-I don’t know.. Just been feeling like we’ve been drifting, recently..”
Spencer’s heart broke at your words, and he held you even closer.
"Oh, sweetheart, I'm so sorry."
He mumbled, rubbing your back slowly in a comforting, soothing way. "How long have you been feeling that way?” 
You let yourself be held by him, and you could feel the tears running down your cheeks, soaking into the blanket he had wrapped around you.
“You’ve just been so busy with work and I know how important it is, b-but I just- I don’t know.. feeling not so important to you, you know?”
He nods as he wiped some of the tears from your eyes with a soft expression of remorse.
"I should have realized sooner. I'm sorry, sweetheart.” He whispered sweetly, stroking your face with his hand. "I don't want you to feel like my work is more important than you. Because in the end, if I had to choose, I'd only ever choose you."
Taking a few staggering breaths, you nod at his words. “Thank you, Spence.. I’m sorry for all of this.” You look down at your hands and begin to play with your nails to distract yourself.
"Stop apologizing, sweetheart. You're allowed to express your emotions. And I'm here to support you, no matter what. Don't be afraid to come to me."
He whispered, his tone filled with understanding and kindness. He gave you a soft smile, wanting nothing more than to help ease your pain. "This was my fault. Not yours. I should’ve noticed earlier on. And you're not alone; I'm here for you. Always."
With another nod, you look up at him and gaze into his eyes, admiring how the colorful sky reflected beautiful light on his features. “I love you, Spence.”
His heart fluttered at your words, causing him to blush ever so slightly. He placed his hands on your cheeks gently, leaning in just slightly and kissing you softly on the lips.
"I love you too, sweetheart."
He whispered gently, holding you close after the kiss. He was grateful to have you in his life, and he hoped you knew just how much he cared about you, how much he loved you.
As soon as he had broken the first kiss, it had only left you wanting more. Hearing his confessions of pure, unbridled love and care for you made a deep passion inside of you ignite. 
You look at him with a faux pout on your mouth.
Spencer chuckled softly at the pout on your face, and leaned in again, kissing you gently on the lips, this time kissing you a little more passionately than the first one. His hands rubbed your back gently, and he ran a hand through your hair, pulling you closer to him as he kissed you. 
As the sun began to set below the horizon of water and the two of you continued to embrace and kiss the other, he reluctantly pulled away and got up to kneel beside you.
“Come on, love. It’s getting cold out.”
In one swift fluid motion, he lifted you up in the air, as if you weighed next to nothing; he carried you through the house and into your shared bedroom, laying you down on the bed gently. 
As you lay against the bed, you sprawled yourself out against the plush material of the cold blankets and pillows, and looked up at him with adoring eyes.
Spencer’s breath catches in his throat when he gets a good look at you laying there, all his. He crawled onto the bed on top of you, getting as close as he possibly could. With wide eyes of his own, he stares into yours before whispering against your face. 
“Are you alright with this, sweetheart?” He whispered, his voice was low and husky, full of passion. When careful fingers find your waist, you all but melt into the soft touch.
You could feel his breath on your skin and the heat his strong body radiated off. The look on your face was one of pure need. The need to be taken care of, to be cared for, to be worshiped. 
You nod, swallowing. 
He smiled and began kissing your neck, moving down to your collarbone as he ran his hands up and down your body. He did just as he knew you needed, and he cared for you, as he always did. You were the most important person in the world to him, and you knew he'd do anything you asked to take care of you, to love you, and to show just how much he meant it when he told you he loved you more than life itself.
Shivers ran through your frame at the feeling of his large warm hands running over your cold skin. The window that was facing the water wasn’t helping with the chill you felt, but you knew Spencer would warm you up in no time.
His warm hands moved over you in a gentle, comforting way, as he placed numerous tender kisses on you, on your neck, shoulders, chest, everywhere he could reach. His kisses were full of love, passion, and affection, and they were meant to take you to a place of total bliss. You knew you could always count on him to make you feel loved and appreciated, and he did it better than anyone else in the world could. He did everything he could for you, and he would always be there for you.
You took a deep breath when you felt his gentle hands pull at the buttons of your shorts, and reached your hands down to help him. But he was quick to grab your wrists and gently place them against your chest, he didn’t want you doing any work right now.
“Hands to yourself baby, you know better.” 
His tone was gentle, yet still scolding. It made your mouth dry and your panties wet. You’d do anything for him as long as he kept speaking to you in that voice of his. 
“S-Sorry, Spence..”
You move your hands so they’re side by side with your head, trying to relax and let him do everything he wants to you.
“I’ll take care of you, you know that." 
He kissed your forehead softly, looking down at you with his light eyes as he continued to undress you. His hands continued moving gently, and he worked your shorts down slowly, taking his time as he did so.
A small gasp leaves you at the way you’re left in your little lace underwear, laid out just for him. And you can hear the sound of your shorts hitting the hardwood floor, and soon enough, your panties, top, and bra, would be joining it. 
"You're gorgeous, darling."
Spencer whispered gently, giving you soft kisses as he did so. With every press of his lips against your goosebump raised skin, it only further turned you on. It was embarrassing to you, how easily he was able to arouse you. But he loved it. He loved being able to get your panties soaked and your cheeks flushed with a blush, just from a few kisses. 
You heard him undo his belt and pull down his pants, taking them off and then dropping them to the floor. The sound of the hardware of his buckle hitting the wood of the night stand made you shudder in anticipation, and you couldn’t help but clench your thighs together in excitement. 
“Are you still doing okay, baby?” 
He looks at you and faintly raises a brow.
“Y-Yes.. Spence..”
He smiled softly at you, and he leaned down to give you a gentle kiss down the lower part of your neck, before he leaned back up and his hands went back down to pull your underwear down slowly.
"Good girl.." 
You squirmed in his hold against the bed as he slowly, teasingly, dragged your underwear down your bottom.
Spencer chuckled softly at your squirms. It made him know that he was doing everything right, and he continued to slowly pull your underwear down your bottom.
"Easy there, darling. You can wait.”
He softly spoke, his tone full of devotion and love as he tried to tease you as much as possible, which proved to be quite easy. You could feel the fabric being pulled away from you body, and all you could do was lay back and let him take control. 
You wanted to wince when you could feel him pulling the drenched fabric off your body, practically having to peel them off of your soaked pussy because of how wet you were. 
You felt his eyes on you, watching with eager interest. They were filled with adoration and arousal. He couldn't wait to show you how much he loved you, and the sight of you was already more than he could've ever dreamed of. 
"You're so beautiful, sweet thing..." Spencer whispers, his voice a husky tone full of passion and excitement as he licks over his bottom lip.
“Thank you.. Spence, y-you’re beautiful, too..” You shyly murmur as you stare at the ceiling, trying not to focus on the embarrassment rising in your cheeks from how hard you think he’s staring at your exposed body. 
And you’re right. His eyes are absolutely shining with fascination at just how soaked you are, from a few light touches and kisses to your neck. He reaches out a gentle hand and pushes your folds around, smearing the slicks all over your thighs and his fingers. You moan at the feeling.
"You're very welcome, darling. You look so beautiful right now.." He whispered, smiling softly and letting his eyes follow every curve of your body. He was absolutely entranced by you, and he could barely control the intense look in his eyes of wanting you more than anything in the world. 
Spencer pulls his hand away from you, and slips them in his mouth for a quick moment, cleaning your arousal from his fingers. You watch the way his eyes roll into the back of his head when he retracts his fingers out of his mouth. 
"I love you. So much."
“I-I love you too..”
The soft crashes of the waves against the dock were audible in the room, and it only added to the calming atmosphere that engulfed you entirely and made you dizzy with bliss.
As he kneels in front of your spread body, he reaches a hand out to stroke over the skin of your thigh. 
“You wanna keep your shirt on or off, baby?”
He knew you were iffy about being completely naked, even in front of him, and you can’t help the swell of your heart at how considerate he’s always been towards you. 
“Y-You can take it off, Spence.. I don’t mind.” 
And his eyes practically glowed at your words, they were filled with admiration and love, at how much you trusted him. 
With a nod, he leans over you to pull up the soft fabric of your top, pulling it over your head, leaving you only in your bra. He reaches out to play with the delicate straps. 
“And this? You wanna keep it on, my love?”
You shake your head hesitantly, you trusted him completely, and wanted him to know just how much. 
His hands reach behind you, and your body arches under him to help. A small smile quirks on his lips at the sight, and he begins to unclasp your bra. 
And once he pulls the lacy undergarment off of you, he tenderly rubs the fabric between his fingers as he stares down at your fully bare body. He licks over his lips and sets the bra gently on the floor next to the rest of your clothing. 
“My god, baby.. You’re incredible.” 
And with the way his voice is utterly dripping with sincerity and pure adoration, you believe him. A small smile of your own creeps onto your face at his praise. 
“Thank you, Spence..” 
He nods, feeling far too emotional to speak at this moment. Kneeling back, Spencer goes down to pull down his own underwear, and even though it's a sight you’ve seen numerous times before, you couldn't ever bring yourself to get tired of it. 
As he threw the thin underwear onto the floor, his thick and heavy cock sways with his body, and god did you need him so badly it was starting to hurt. 
His hand wraps around his member, and he bites his lip at the feeling. You’re forced to watch him give himself pleasure with a pout, because you know you can make him feel better than that hand of his, even though it’s the same hand that’s brought you to countless orgasms before. 
You rub your thighs together in hopes of some relief, and he chuckles when he realizes just how desperate you’ve become. He grabs himself at the base of his dick, and slowly passes it through the slippery folds of your cunt.
The feeling of being entirely coated with your arousal makes his head spin, and it makes your breath grow short. The blunt tip of his cock buts against your sensitive clit and you’d be ashamed to admit that it was already bringing you so close over the edge. 
“P-Please.. Spen-” 
“Shh shh, I know, baby..” 
He’s quick to shut you up, because only he knows what’s the best for you, and right now, he’s giving it to you. 
Spencer rubs his head over your hole, before slowly, so slowly, pushing himself inside of your warm walls. The intrusion makes you wince, he’s always been big, and somehow he always made it fit. 
With each inch he sheathes inside of you, the fuller and fuller you feel. You can feel yourself tightening involuntarily around him, and you can hear just how wet you are when you do. With each squeeze of your pussy around his cock, and quiet squelch can be heard, you were so wet that you were already leaking around him.
And when he’s entirely engulfed inside of you, his pelvis pressing into the sides of your thighs, your legs wrapped around his back, he throws his head back at how warm you are. It’s almost burning him, and he can’t get enough of it, even if you him fuck you forever. 
But he’d still be a foolish man to ever deny the offer.
The man gently caresses your soft skin as he forces himself to stay still inside of you, despite how hard it was, and despite how much he just wanted to fill you over and over again with his cock, then once more with his searing hot cum. 
“Let me know when, baby. O-Okay?”
His voice is wavering at how much control he’s trying to instill, and you’re not doing too hot either. Your body is trembling against the sheets as you try to adjust to the intrusion and keep your release at bay. 
After a few soft cries and moans from you, and a few more groans and heavy sighs from Spencer, you clench around him to let him know you’re ready, and the feeling makes him keel over your body, caging your head with his arms. 
“Fuck, baby..” 
His fingers intertwined with yours beside your head, and began to shallowly thrust into your weeping cunt. 
Looking down was a big mistake, you soon found. Because the second you leaned up slightly to watch the way he fucked you, you threw you head back almost immediately. 
After noticing this, he does the same. He bows his head down to look where your two bodies meet, and he lets out a guttural moan at the sight. 
“God, look at you, angel.. You’re swallowing me right up.”
You shake your head at his words and squeeze your eyes shut. Because you know if you look again, you’ll be trembling and cumming on his cock that instant you see the way his thick cock pushes into your greedy cunt. 
Spencer’s having a hard enough time as is holding himself back, just watching the way he disappears inside your pretty pussy has him rolling his eyes back into his head. Seeing the way your slick arousal has turned white on his length because of how much he’s been encasing himself inside of you. 
The fingers that are intertwined with yours leave your hands, and reach down to hold you in a firm grip at your hips. He uses them to pull your body down against him, further humping his cock into your drenched hole. 
He begins to rub the sweat slicked skin of your hips as he still fucks into you so lovingly.  
His touches were so gentle and comforting that it almost made you feel drowsy. You let out a soft yawn and felt your eyelids grow heavier with each tender pass of his cock inside of you.
Spencer was quick to notice this, and pat you lightly against the side of your face, forcing you to look up at him.
“Come on baby, stay with me. I know you can do it..”
His voice was full of so much emotion it made you want to cry. The way he talked to you like you were precious to him never ceased to make you absolutely melt under his gaze.
With a nod, you blinked a few times to bring yourself back to full consciousness, and lolled your head back against the plush pillows as your swollen lips pushed out a soft moan.
“There you go.. that’s my sweet girl..”
Each roll of his hips into you drove you crazy, and the way he was making you feel was out of place with how tenderly he was making love to you. He made you feel like your body was on fire, like at any given moment, you’d be gushing around his cock and soaking his skin and sheets. 
You clench around him to pull him even deeper inside of you, and he groans loudly at the sensation. You were so close already, he might as well have gotten an award. 
Spencer readjusts his body to plant his knees firmer against the bed, and leans down to wrap his arms around your waist to lift your lower body against his own. He began to fuck into you quicker now, just how you needed it. A whiny whimper was what you granted him in response. 
He nodded, and a shudder ran through him at how amazing you felt around him, and how utterly beautiful you sounded and looked.  
“Anytime you need to, baby.” 
Sounding breathless, he grinds his body harder, faster, and longer into yours. You’re sucking him up like it’s your job, and feel him yanking you closer and closer to your release.
Your hands gripped at the sheets, your nails digging into them in a substitute for Spencer’s back. You didn’t want to hurt him right now, not when he was taking care of you like the most delicate thing to ever exist, definitely not.
“I-I love you s-so much.. So so much, Spence..” 
You pathetically yet lovingly confess to him through a moan, and your eyebrows scrunched at the imminent orgasm that was quickly washing over you.
“Oh baby.. I love you too, more than anything.” 
His voice is full of adoration, and you can hear the way he’s fighting off cutting himself off with loud moans and groans of his own. 
Your body trembles as your cunt gives one last greedy swallow of his entire length, and you can practically see the back of your skull with how hard your eyes are rolling. Warmth. Warmth is all you feel. 
You’re gushing around him, feeling your release spill out of you around him and coat your thighs and drip down to your ass. Your orgasm sends you into a state of euphoria, and after your body turns stiff from the impact, you go entirely limp in his hold, moaning and whimpering endlessly. 
“My sweet baby.. You did so well.” 
He whispers through your noises, and starts to push into you quicker, chasing after his own very close release. With your orgasm still wracking through your fragile body, he can just feel the flutter of your pussy around him, begging to be filled with his cum. 
“Baby- Baby I’m gonna cum.. W-Where?” 
His voice sounds absolutely desperate, like if you didn’t answer him in the next second he’d explode. 
Crying out through a moan, you squeeze your cunt harder, pulling him deeper and deeper where you needed him most, where you needed him to claim you, and show you just how sorry he is for being so distant. 
“I-Inside.. Now, Spence.. Oh–Please, I need it so bad.. Please…” 
Spencer shakes his head at your response, as if it drove him crazy. And truthfully, it did. Nothing sounded more appealing than absolutely filling you to the brim with his thick, warm, cum. He needed it inside of you, probably more than you did. He wanted to stuff you with his release, praying to god your body would take his seed into you, and give you the family you always yearned to have. 
You deserve it. You deserve everything. 
Is what he chants to himself in his head, it wasn’t like he needed any help believing it, he just wanted to make sure he did a good job of showing you just how devoted he was towards you, and how far he'd go just to make sure you’re happy. 
With one final push into you, he locks himself inside of you, and keeps himself there. He’s so fucking deep inside of you that you can feel his tip blowing a kiss to your cervix, and yet the both of you craved he could get deeper. A primal moan left his mouth, accompanying your whines of pure pleasure.
Spencer’s hips stutter against your thighs, and you feel him lose all of his control at that moment. He’s pouring his release into you, shooting thick ribbons of arousal and coating your walls. 
And he was tucked so far into you, that none of it leaked out. So he pumped you full of cum, and forced your body to take it, take it as your own. 
When his release starts to subside, he lets out a soft laugh and squeezes at the flesh of your waist. 
“You alright, love?”
You wordlessly nod, and swallow the spit pooling in your mouth. You lean up on your forearms to look up at him with a gaze full of unmistakable admiration and adoration. He returns it. 
With a breathless moan, he starts to slowly pull out of you, but you’re quick to protest. With your legs against his back, you pull him closer to you, and force him back inside of you. 
“Stay, Spence.. Please..” 
He looks up at you with a crooked smile and tilts his head to the side. With a slightly trembling hand, he reaches it up to your face and moves some of the sweaty hair stuck on your face out of the way, and leans down the best he can to press a kiss to your cheek. 
“Baby I honestly think I’m stuck inside of you at this point, you don’t have to worry about that.” 
2K notes · View notes
literaila · 1 month
Note
Can we PLEASE get some angst, followed by comfort (in the same one shot) up in this house?
you know you want to write it 😏
okay, he thinks. this has happened before.
satoru is used to pain and injuries and sending people off to be checked on. he’s used to being chaperoned through a hospital, counting the room numbers as he walks through the halls.
he’s no stranger to curses.
(sometimes it feels like they follow him around, just lurking in his shadow, so sure that he can’t see them from where he’s standing.
but satoru sees everything; he feels it.
he’s learned to bide his time and wait in the dark, wait for the moment of attack—he’s learned how to prepare himself for those types of things).
you’ve done this before, he thinks, so it’s fine.
when suguru got that concussion in shinjuku, when yaga broke his leg while showing them an abandoned district. when he was seven and his instructor led him down these same halls, telling him to keep his eyes peeled for anything, to keep his guard up if it was the last thing he’d do.
and it’s fine. room 303. he’s going to walk in the room and he’ll feel the same as he does every time he’s here—maybe a little bit misplaced, maybe a bit arrogant, angry because he wouldn’t have gotten hurt—but never afraid.
gojo satoru doesn’t feel fear. it was trained out of him by the time he was five.
he might be alone this time, a hole where someone else would be—someone who was actually scared, someone who felt concern like a normal person. but satoru doesn’t need anything to fill that hole.
he doesn’t need to worry.
it’s just a hospital. it’s just another curse, something he’ll easily overcome.
except for the fact that it’s you, of course.
when he walks in the room, the lights are off. satoru doesn’t mind this, really, because he’s never needed any lamp to see. and besides, its not that dark outside anyway—even if the curtains are drawn.
you’re not the first thing he sees. it’s the flowers hiding in the corner of the room, the only void of cursed energy there.
and then satoru turns, and he realizes that there’s another void.
it’s slight, because people have cursed energy even when they’re sorcerers—even if they’re as happy as tsumiki, as carefree as him.
but where you’d usually be bursting with that outline of negativity, it’s dim. barely a shield on your core—one you worked at to keep you safe.
and where you’d usually be reinforcing yourself, building up those barriers to keep anyone out, it’s empty.
satoru doesn’t look at anything like regular people do. he can see the dim of your skin, the sheen of sweat because you have a fever. he knows that your hair is tangled, that your face is scratched up, that you’re going to have another scar on your stomach.
but he doesn’t care about that. he never has.
he cares about the lack of feedback coming from his eyes, he cares that his technique has nothing to bypass.
satoru walks into the room, not minding the dark, but hating the feeling in the air. he really doesn’t like being alone.
it’s fine, though. its always fine.
(he wishes that megumi and tsumiki were here with him. they wouldn’t dwell in the doorway. tsumiki would sit right next to you and hold your hand and megumi would bring you things from home. if someone was going to cry, it would be them. and they could fill that empty space next to him. and they both would talk, even if there wasn’t an answer.
and he wouldn’t be alone).
still, he walks forward. he watches your body and waits until your chest rises, then falls, to keep going. just to be sure that it’s all fine.
because it is.
“still asleep?” he whispers, trying to fill his voice with the same disinterest, the same nonchalance that he would if you were awake.
and there’s no response. not that he was expecting one, really.
he sits down, and satoru knows that he should hold your hand—but he doesn’t. he can’t let his guard down now. he’s sure that the curses are watching, waiting for him to give something up.
“nanami is watching the kids,” he tells you, because you’d want to know. “so they’re fine. tsumiki wanted to get you flowers but i—“ he stops.
this is ridiculous. it’s stupid to talk to you like you’re there. like you can hear him.
i wanted to get here as soon as possible.
and because there’s nothing he can say, he takes off his blindfold. he looks at you with his own eyes, for just a moment.
you look the same—just asleep. if you were awake you would be scolding him, reminding him that he has to get the kids places and pack their lunches.
it’s only been five hours since you got here.
it’s just a nap, satoru rationalizes. shoko will be here tomorrow.
still he wants you to wake up more than anything. he wants to hear your voice, to say something stupid and make you laugh.
he wants to tell you the truth of it all, to finally admit that he cares, that he’s scared.
but satoru knows that he wouldn’t say that, even if you were up.
“you can’t lay here forever,” he whispers, in the dark. “megumi’s got a test he needs your help studying for. and who’s going to do ‘miki’s hair?”
satoru shakes his head, looking to your face for a response.
there is none.
and he might be afraid, he might be completely fine and still absolutely terrified—but suddenly he’s angry.
he’s angry with yaga for letting you go alone, for not sending him instead. he’s angry with himself for not realizing that you would need help. and he’s angry with you because you’re just as strong as him.
because you’re stronger. you might have less cursed energy, but you’re stronger than him—and you could do this so much easier than he can. you could talk to him while he was asleep and you’d probably be able to wake him up. and you’d soothe the kids and make the time to get the goddamn flowers.
“why did you do that?” he asks you, leaning closer. “are you an idiot? you know how to take care of yourself. you know how to block a technique, how to protect yourself. you—you know how to—“
satoru reminds himself that he’s fine. he’s been here before.
it’s the same every time, anyway. it’s loneliness and despair and waiting for the inevitable—for the curse to take over.
he’s been here before.
“are you crying?”
satoru’s head snaps to the side and he blinks at you. his eyes are wide, his face still burning with anger, and his hands moving recklessly across his legs, unable to be still.
you cough, looking around. “it’s rude to call the person in the hospital bed an idiot, you know?”
and the energy flashes around you for a moment, like you’re testing something. and it’s weaker than usual—softer—but it’s enough.
it’s fine.
satoru doesn’t answer you, only stares.
you look around again, blinking like you’re confused. “where are the kids?”
“with kento.”
you nod, reaching for his hand that he’s put uselessly on your bed. “that’s good. megumi hates hospitals.”
satoru swallows. “he hates crying people.”
you snort at him, squeezing his hand. “yeah. wouldn’t want him around you right now. that would be bad.”
and finally, his mouth twitches and he leans in closer. “i’m not crying.”
“well that’s rude,” you say, “i could’ve died, you know.”
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iamgonnagetyouback · 5 days
Text
𝟷.𝟽𝚔 || 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐎 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐉𝐔𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐓
♡ ︎ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: Romeo and Juliet had nothing on you and Jess Mariano.
♡ ︎ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: None
♡ ︎ꜱʜɪᴘ: Jess Mariano x reader
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The small bell above the diner door jingled, signaling your arrival at Luke’s Diner. As you stepped inside, you caught sight of Jess Mariano slouched in his usual booth, a dog-eared book in his hands. His dark eyes flicked up just briefly from the pages before returning to whatever literary masterpiece he was engrossed in.
You and Jess had a thing. Well, not officially. Not that anyone was thrilled about the prospect of it becoming official, except maybe you. You were supposed to be the sweet, well-liked girl in town—the one who got along with everyone, including Rory Gilmore, who always threw daggers your way every time you were caught within a ten-foot radius of Jess.
Lorelai wasn’t any better. She’d never been particularly subtle, and her dramatic sighs whenever she spotted you two talking were enough to fill a whole novel themselves. And Luke? Well, Luke had his usual I’m going to throttle my nephew expression on his face.
It wasn’t like Jess was helping to ease anyone’s concerns, either. If anything, he seemed to enjoy the chaos. He lived for the thrill of rebellion, the undercurrent of defiance. And you? Well, you were getting a kick out of it, too.
You slid into the booth opposite him, the vinyl squeaking under your jeans as you gave him a once-over. “Hey, Romeo,” you said, leaning forward. “What tragic tale of doomed love are we reading today?”
Jess’s lips quirked up, his eyes still on the page. “Wuthering Heights,” he said dryly. “You know, to set the mood for our inevitable downfall.”
You grinned. “How fitting. Are we at the part where Heathcliff wrecks everything?”
Jess finally looked up, his gaze meeting yours. “Depends. Have you made up your mind to ruin my life yet?”
“Who says you’re not the one ruining mine?” you teased back, earning yourself a full smirk from him. His hand casually turned the page of the book, but his attention was clearly focused on you now.
Before either of you could continue, the door opened again, and in strolled Rory and Lorelai. Instinctively, you straightened, feeling the weight of their disapproval from across the room. They exchanged knowing looks, whispering between themselves, and Lorelai’s exasperated sigh wasn’t even the least bit subtle.
Jess rolled his eyes, leaning back in the booth. “Well, if it isn’t the Montagues.”
You chuckled softly under your breath. “Ignore them.”
“Hard to, when they’re so invested in our tragic demise.”
“Tragic?” You arched an eyebrow at him. “A bit melodramatic, don’t you think?”
He shrugged, his smirk growing. “Just quoting the classics. We are in a small town where everyone has an opinion, and they all seem to hate me. Shakespeare would’ve had a field day with this.”
“Oh, totally. You as Romeo, me as Juliet, and the entire town as the bloodthirsty Capulets.”
Jess’s gaze darkened slightly, his tone playful but serious beneath it. “You know how that ends, right? Double suicide, lots of crying, poetic last words.”
“Relax,” you said, laughing softly. “No one’s drinking poison or stabbing themselves here. We’re more of a modern adaptation. Happy endings.”
“If you say so, Cherry,” Jess said, leaning forward slightly, his voice a low murmur. The nickname slipped off his tongue with a casual ease that made your heart skip a beat. It had started as a joke, something to poke fun at your fondness for cherry-flavored candies. Now, it felt like a secret only the two of you shared, a reminder that he saw you differently from how everyone else did.
You smiled at him, leaning your chin on your hand. “I do say so, Romeo.”
“Speaking of star-crossed lovers,” he continued, “you planning on telling the entire town about us?”
“What about us?” you grinned, glancing around. “Besides, they’ve already made up their minds.”
“Of course they have,” Jess said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “It’s Stars Hollow. They hate me.”
“Not everyone hates you.”
“Really?” He gave you a sceptical look. “Name one person.”
“Michel doesn’t hate you,” you said, leaning back with a satisfied grin.
“Michel doesn’t care about anyone.”
“Exactly.” You smirked. “I talk to him about you all the time.”
Jess’s eyes lit up with intrigue. “You talk about me to Michel?”
“In French,” you replied nonchalantly, picking at the edge of your napkin. “It’s our little secret. So, even if the whole town thinks you’re the worst, Michel remains blissfully indifferent.”
“Lucky me,” Jess muttered, though his eyes gleamed with amusement. “So, what do you tell him? How much you adore me? How I’m your Romeo, destined to sweep you off your feet?”
You shrugged, playing coy. “Maybe.”
“I knew it,” he said with a grin, leaning in closer. “You’ve got it bad for me, don’t you?”
Before you could respond, Luke approached the table, wiping his hands on his apron and glaring down at Jess. “You bothering her?”
“Not at all,” Jess said smoothly, leaning back. “We’re just discussing the great literary works.”
“Right,” Luke deadpanned, clearly not buying it. “Well, whatever you’re discussing, don’t get any ideas.”
Jess raised his hands in mock surrender. “No ideas here, Uncle Luke. Just harmless banter.”
Luke shot you a look that said I know exactly what’s going on before walking away, mumbling something about young people and bad influences.
You turned back to Jess, who was watching you with that infuriatingly smug expression.
“You know,” you said, picking up the book in front of him and flipping through the pages. “For all your talk of tragedy, I think we’re more of a comedy.”
“Comedy?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “You’re sure about that?”
“Absolutely,” you nodded, meeting his gaze. “Everyone’s making a fuss, we’re keeping secrets, and at the end of the day, it all works out.”
“Is that so?” Jess tilted his head, his voice dropping slightly. “What makes you so sure?”
“Because,” you said, your smile softening as you looked at him, “no one dies in our story.”
Jess looked at you for a long moment, his expression unreadable before he finally chuckled softly, his defences melting ever so slightly. “Alright, Cherry. If you say so.”
“I do.” You leaned forward, mirroring his earlier movement. “Now, where were we?”
Jess smirked. “Oh, I think you know.”
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Stars Hollow had never been one for keeping secrets. Gossip moved faster than a Gilmore Girl with coffee, and somehow, before you'd even realized it, everyone knew that something was going on between you and Jess Mariano. Well, everyone except you and Jess, apparently.
You leaned against the counter at the Dragonfly Inn, flipping through the latest book you had been unable to put down, your mind still half in the world of fictional characters and tragic romances. Michel was at his desk, typing with exaggerated annoyance.
“Il est agaçant (He is annoying),” you said in a hushed tone, eyes still glued to your book.
Michel barely looked up. “I assume you’re talking about the delinquent,” he replied, his accent as sharp as ever.
You sighed, a smile tugging at your lips. “Yes, of course. Who else?”
“I don’t get it,” you had said to Michel one afternoon as you sat at the reception desk. “Why is everyone so against him? They don’t even know him.”
Michel had waved a hand, unimpressed. “Parce qu’ils sont tous idiots." (Because they are all idiots.)
The bell above the door chimed, and you looked up to see Jess walk in, his usual smirk firmly in place.
“Hey, Cherry,” Jess greeted you, leaning against the counter casually.
You raised an eyebrow, fighting the smile that threatened to break free. “Mon cher Roméo (My dear Romeo),” you replied playfully.
Jess chuckled, glancing around the empty lobby. “Don’t tell me Lorelai or Rory have been by to lecture you again?”
“Oh, they have,” you said, rolling your eyes. “Apparently, I’m making a huge mistake.”
Jess shrugged, not offended but rather amused by the whole town’s reaction to him. “What can I say? I’m Stars Hollow’s favorite villain.”
“Maybe it’s time for a redemption arc,” you teased, pushing the book you were reading across the counter towards him.
He picked it up, scanning the title with mild interest. “Pride and Prejudice? Not exactly light reading.”
“Well, I have to keep up with someone,” you shot back, raising an eyebrow. “You know, the town’s resident bad boy with impeccable taste in literature.”
Jess smirked. “Impeccable, huh? High praise, Juliet.”
You rolled your eyes. “I just don’t get why everyone’s so obsessed with what we’re doing. It’s not like we’re… I don’t know.”
“In love?” Jess finished for you, his tone playful but carrying a hint of something more.
Your heart skipped a beat. “Yeah, that.”
Jess’s gaze softened for a moment, and the teasing smirk fell from his lips, replaced by something more serious. “Maybe they’re just jealous they’re not living in their own Shakespearean tragedy,” he said, his voice lower now.
You scoffed, trying to brush off the intensity of the moment. “A tragedy? Please. You and I both know we’re way too smart to fall into that trap.”
He leaned closer, his eyes never leaving yours. “Is that what you think, Cherry? That we’re too smart to end up like Romeo and Juliet?”
The reference wasn’t lost on you. It never was. Jess had this way of weaving literature into every conversation, turning something mundane into something more. And you knew what he was doing, teasing you, pushing boundaries.
You bit your lip, leaning in just a fraction closer. “I mean, I do prefer happy endings.”
Jess’s eyes flickered with something unreadable, and then he leaned back, the playful smirk returning to his lips. “Good to know. I’ll keep that in mind.”
Before you could say anything else, the door swung open again, and Lorelai walked in, her eyes immediately narrowing when she saw Jess.
“Oh, great,” she muttered. “Romeo and Juliet. How fitting.”
You groaned inwardly. “Lorelai…”
But she wasn’t listening. She marched over, standing between you and Jess, arms crossed. “Jess, don’t you have a book to brood over somewhere else? Preferably far away?”
Jess just raised his eyebrows, completely unfazed. “Nice to see you too, Lorelai.”
“Yeah, well, the feeling isn’t mutual,” Lorelai shot back, turning to you. “Seriously, you need to be careful with him.”
Jess glanced at you, and for a moment, there was something unspoken in his eyes—something that made your heart race. You knew he wasn’t going to push back against Lorelai, not right now. Instead, he gave you one last lingering look before turning to leave.
“See you later, Cherry,” he said softly, as he walked out the door.
Lorelai groaned once he was gone, turning back to you. “I really don’t get it. What do you see in him?”
You didn’t answer right away, your mind still on the way Jess had looked at you, the way your heart had skipped a beat when he called you Juliet. Maybe you were falling for him. And maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t such a bad thing.
“Je ne sais pas, (I don't know)” you muttered under your breath, catching Michel’s amused smirk from behind the desk.
But deep down, you knew.
Romeo and Juliet had nothing on you and Jess Mariano.
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99 notes · View notes
signedeclipse · 2 years
Note
Hello there :) I’m so glad to see you again :) please could I request headcanons for the hashira men where their normally shy crush is affected by an aphrodisiac from a fight with a demon and suddenly becomes very touchy and flirty with them (please could it be as nsfw as possible) 😉
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Giyuu
Another mission with you was another he knew would be a breeze
You didn't bother him in the slightest, minded your own business and completed your objectives without much struggle
Of course mistakes happen, but this one was just downright cruel
The demon was now dealt with, but when he found you, you seemed out of it
His first concern was poison- not that he seemed incorrect but you didn't seem hurt
Just really REALLY clingy all of a sudden
Of course you had unfortunately been affected by this demon, and Giyuu wanted to help you but all you asked for was-
Okay, he may or may have not used his haori to tie you against a tree, making sure your arms were stuck around it too
He didn't have the heart to restrain you physically or give in to something that might be against your will
But boy was he rock hard about it
Gyomei
You were never all that great at dodging projectiles, let alone something as small as a pin while already caught mid air
The stone hashira thought he had deflected them all, but when you started speaking sluggishly and he went to grab your hand, he felt something stuck in your skin
Of course, there was no doubt about it, you were poisoned and hadn't realized
First he scolded himself for not being more careful, you were the last person he would have wanted to see hurt
Then he lifted you up into your arms and made it back to Shinobu as fast as he could, hoping it was nothing too terrible, but you seemed to be thrashing quite wildly and it was fortunate he was able to hold you still
He even had to restrain you in Shinobu's office, right on his lap as she checked out your blood and made sure everything was okay
"I am happy to say she does not seem to be in any danger,  and any effects it might have will wear off soon! How fortunate."
"Is that so?"
He was mumbling as Shinobu left, though he didn't move an inch
The entire time you had been squirming your ass into his crotch and unfortunately standing up now might show off a little too much to the world
At least he had an idea on what was going on with you
"Please y/n, if you can just stay still till we get home I am sure we can relieve you of your problems."
Kyojuro
He is the type to see you were poisoned and then decide to get himself hit too so he can instruct you on how to stop the poison the best
Will literally ask the demon to inject him and then cut its head off a second later
Except as he feels the effects start to draw on him too, he realizes the exact scenario you are both in
Harmless, of course, but also...
"I must confess! I really like you and would like to court you this instant!"
It was just the thing he needed to get that confession out
Once he got enthusiastic consent he was lifting you up and bringing you back to where you'd been staying for the mission and making sure you get a real good impression of how good he'll treat you from then on
Muichiro
He was far more focused on himself and the mission to notice you had changed
One thing at a time, please!
But once the demon was dead, it at least helped the aphrodisiac nullify before he even started to notice your predicament
Sure, sometimes he was clueless to things, but sometimes Muichiro would play dumb on purpose, especially with you
With anyone else he would blurt out that they seemed heated, but he knew his words might be harsher than he intends and kept it to himself
"God, it's getting really hot out here-"
"Is it?"
Oh he knows what's going on the longer you walk together, and steadily his face is getting as pink as yours from the very insinuation that maybe- just MAYBE you were thinking of him
When you mentioned going to see Shinobu, he asks why you'd ever need to do that
Okay, maybe that attempt at playing dumb was a bit too obvious
"We can just wait it out."
He would take you to his estate partially so no one else sees you like this, but also so he can savor how much you stuck near him
Muichiro both wasn't one for PDA but also not one to tell you he even enjoyed being next to you
But god, did he, you were clinging to his sleeve and following him everywhere he want, and speaking to him often
Not that he stood for you being poisoned but...part of him wished he had taken some of that venom before he killed the demon
Obanai
Would likely think that the way you are acting is a joke, to try and test him or distract him from his duties as a slayer
Until the demon is dumb enough to reveal why you were so shaky and having a hard time breathing correctly to use your techniques
If anyone has an antidote for poison, especially with Kaburamaru, it’s him
Even knowing this, Obanai decides he should keep the fact he carries it to himself
The fact is that the demon is dealt with in half the time he expected it to take
Partially because he resents it even more for touching you, partially because he wants to get to you before everything wears off
The more hot and bothered you get it's almost like he mirrors you, and he will take you then and there in the forest next to the decaying demon corpse
If you ever find out about the fact he always carried antidote and ask he will simply lie and say he forgot he carried it, though I'm sure you'd see straight through the lie
Sanemi
Honestly the first thing he does when you start acting all weak and struggle to fight the demon is yell at you to get up and stop being a crybaby
But you can visibly notice he is tensing up and fighting a lot harder to protect you and end the fight before you get involved again
He does prevail and finishes things off, but by then you are just trembling on the floor and avoiding his gaze
If you wont move after he nudges you the first few times he'll pick you up and dangle you over his shoulder
"If you keep acting like this I'll show you who runs shit around here!"
His vague threats likely only make your situation worse, but once he's got it all figured out he gets a lot more flustered
He wouldn't leave his favourite girl trembling and struggling there all by herself, though
Once you are all held down with both wrists pinned to the bed by one of his hands, he'll make sure the other one gives you all the attention you need until satisfied
Uzui
It isn't unlike you both to get a little heated after a mission together, but you seemed way more impatient than usual after this one
Way sooner too, right after the demon had scratched you you became a little dizzy so he had to finish things off first
Honestly, Uzui didn't care why, the moment he inspected you to make sure you weren't poisoned or worse, he was more than happy to respond to your touchy hands
Thank goodness this demon was far away from any towns, because it was about to get loud
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Authors Note - AND HERE WE ARE! I sat on this a while because of some characters and decided to just do my best <3 Thank you for requesting, I hope its something you'll enjoy!
Disclaimer - All characters within have been aged up to at least 18 or older, and have been altered to reflect such change as needed.
2K notes · View notes
iloveinej · 2 years
Text
𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠'𝐬 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠
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Steve rogers x reader
Category: Angst, fluff
Warnings: Description of an injury and blood, mentions of nausea, fainting
Summary: (Name) has never had the currant to tell Steve about the injuries, afraid of bothering him. Not realizing that it can backfire.
Words: 2.6 k
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(Name) loved Steve Rogers with her entire being, and she believed that every person she met felt the same. With his blue eyes, kind smile, and charisma. How he cared about every living, breathing thing around him.
But it didn't stop her from shutting down whenever he was irritated, mad, or even tense. Maybe it was because of past trauma, or that she simply didn't want to become the reason why he was mad. But every time he became like that, (Name) felt almost scared.
Not of him, of course, but scared that he don't want her near him. It has happened before with other people.
Which was why she was sitting in a corner of the quinjet, headphones over her ears as she tried to control the pain that bloomed like wildfire over her back.
It was an unsuccessful mission. And she knew Steve, like everybody else, hated unsuccessful missions. He was leaning against a wall, both arms crossed over his chest with a hard, stony look on his face. He didn't speak to anyone, stuck in his little world.
And she didn't want to be an inconvenience by whining about the flesh wound on her back. Especially if he hadn't noticed that she was in pain.
Either way, she planned on patching it up herself, and then going to bed, hoping that the storm would calm enough for the next day. And if she were feeling luxurious, she might even go to the med bay to get the wound checked on.
Except she hadn't planned on the fact that the wound was efficiently placed on her back, therefore making it out of reach for her to clean it. And she was way too exhausted to ask anyone else or to even care about the matter. So she grabbed the bandages and wrapped them around her chest and back, leaving it like that before turning off the lights in her bathroom and throwing herself headfirst in the bed.
Not knowing Steve lay on the other side of the wall, waiting for her to come and say goodnight.
--
The next morning, the ache in her back had gotten worse, and her left shoulder strained whenever she tried to move it. She needed to get to the med bay at least once today. But first, she required a big cup of coffee.
When she made it out to the sunlit kitchen, the pain in her back had spread. Now, her head ached just as much, and every time she turned too fast, black splotches would show.
And earlier, when she changed her bandages the blood had entirely seeped through, leaving it soaked in red. But the blood had been diluted with another liquid, which she found mildly concerning.
She poured herself the coffee that was left in the coffee machine and put it in the microwave since it was cold. And while she stood there waiting she noted that the kitchen was empty, which was strange to be at this time of the day.
"Jarvis? Do you mind telling me where everyone is?" She asked the AI.
"I believe that Mr. Wilson is still sleeping." She let out a humorous scoff." Mr. Stark and Mr. Banner are currently in the lab. Ms. Romanoff in the training areas with Mr. Rogers."
(Name)s ears perked at the mention of him, and her mind spiraled into calculating thoughts. "Did Steve already eat breakfast?"
"Yes. An omelet, made of three eggs and a cup of coffee, one teaspoon of sugar, and milk." A frown tugged at her face. Steve never ate breakfast without her. Unless they were fighting, which was a rare happening. Steve believed that the most important meal of the day was breakfast, and therefore always made sure that (Name) ate it with him. But so that he could have company, and also make sure that she ate enough.
"Alright then. Thank you, Jarvis." She smiled up to the roof, hoping that he could see her appreciativeness. Then she made a beeline back to her room with a downturn of her brow, planning to do paperwork before throwing herself into her, not so fantastic anymore, day. Completely forgetting her visit to the med bay.
--
Paperwork had always been a somewhat calming thing to do for her to relax, turn off her brain, and go on autopilot. Often when she was stressed, Steve found her with her nose in her computer typing away without any knowledge around her. It always worked.
Except for today.
The pain in her head only got worse after all the caffeine, and she couldn't lean back into her chair either because of her back. And not only that, but thoughts of Steve plagued her mind. And not the good, lovey-dovey thoughts. But instead, the toxic, poisoning thoughts were so loud that it was the only thing she heard.
She had no idea what to do about their situation. And she was really afraid that she had accidentally done something the day before to upset him, giving her a reason for his strange and unlike actions.
"Mr. Rogers would like me to alert you that there is a team meeting in the conference room in five minutes." She jumped in her chair and a small yelp left her lips as Jarvis spoke, making her back strain. And that made her wince painfully.
"I apologize. It was not my intention to frighten you." A grimace covered (Name)s face in an attempt to smile, and she carefully rubbed her shoulder.
"Don't worry about it. I was just stuck in my head."
"How so?" And (Name) went quiet. She hadn't expected a question from him.
"Nothing special." She absentmindedly hummed for an answer, and that seemed to get Jarvis less curious.
"If you say so. 3 minutes left." And with that, she quickly grabbed her things and bolted out of her quarters, right towards the elevator.
--
She turned out to arrive just in time as Fury was about to close the door, and she quickly slithered in, choosing a stool at the back of the table so that she wouldn't get questioning eyes on her. When she entered she could feel Steves's's stare burning into her skin, but she doesn't have the time nor thought to greet him, which would perhaps leave consequences for later. But now she just longed to sit down before she fainted.
She didn't even notice when Fury started speaking because blood was rushing through her ears, and beads of sweat ran down her neck, sending a shiver through her ice-cold and fire-hot body. It was like she running a fever in an ice bath. She dared to subtly raise a shaking hand towards her back, slightly touching the wound, only to have to suppress a wince and bring back blood-stained fingers.
She was at least wearing black.
Her attention shifted when Fury changed places with Steve, and let him take his place in the front. It was hard to know if she found it either positive or negative.
Positive because she could focus on something that brought her calm, and hear his voice instead of the roar in her ears. Focus on his plack t-shirt and nice fitting jeans, which was something he didn't wear often. How soft hir hair looked and his pink , kissable lips.
Negative because now he could see how colorless her face had become, along with a thin cover of sweat by her throat and her lifeless tired eyes.
And perhaps it made Steve speak a tad bit faster, and perhaps he skipped over some of the parts he was supposed to introduce. But it looked like his girlfriend was dying, and Fury didn't need to know that his two most capable agents were in a relationship.
He could her heartbeat picking up more and more as he spoke, and it was a relief for him when he could finally dismiss the team.
She slowly stood up as the rest of them collected their things and one by one filed out. But she couldn't do anything as quickly as she liked, not even walk. She had no choice but to take a tight grip on the chairs lined up, and use them as crutches.
And when Steve turned his back to gather a pile of papers, she took a breath, straightened her back, and took two quick steps towards the door. But Steve heard the increase of speed in her steps in quickly caught her arms in a fierce grip, stopping her from escaping.
"Damn it." She mumbled, making sure that Steve couldn't hear her. And then she turned her head to meet Steves's's eye, trying to look as normal as possible, which didn't trick Steve at all. Only made him more concerned.
"You alright?" He let both of his hands smooth over her shoulders and arms, looking at her with those blue, affectionate eyes.
"Mhm!" She hummed, trying to sound as carefree as possible while plastering a smile on her face. But he didn't look convinced. Not at all.
He let his left hand travel up to her cheek, and he was about to say something. But when his palm touched her cheek, he flinched and removed his palm to see that it was damp.
"Steve-" She warned, but it was no idea. He had already raised his sleeve and laid his wrist over her forehead. And she couldn't protest because his wrist was oh so warm while she had been freezing and sweating cold ever since she entered the room.
"You're burning." It didn't feel like she was.
"Are you sick?" He asked, a frown on his face as she felt for her temperature. "Why haven't you said anything?"He scolded, and she shrunk into herself as his hands continued to investigate her. Until his hand came in contact with her wound. And she recoiled away from his hand, trying to get as far away from the pain as possible. Tears gathered in her eyes at the fire in her back, and she glued them shut as she tried to let it pass.
Steve brought his hand up to see when he felt something on the tips of his fingers, and his eyes widened in horror. There was a vermillion stain on his fingers, running down his hand. And (Name) saw both concern and panic as he looked down at her, as she was now leaning against his chest, too tired to stand on her own.
"I'm fine, promise." She said, lime on autopilot.
"We need to get you to a doctor." He insisted, about to take her under the knees and carry her there. But the second he tried to m, she leaned away.
And the guilt was there again. Steves tired but pretty face showed concern and panic, but she wasn't supposed to make him concerned and panic. As his partner, she was there to make him calm, happy, and satisfied. Sure, if Steve would hide a wound like this one from her, she would be livid. But that's hardly classed as the same thing.
"It's fine Steve, I'm sure I can get there me."
He scoffed and looked almost hurt.
"No, you're not going anywhere yourself. Not by how you're looking"
A protest lay prepared on the tip of her tongue, but she didn't get further than opening her mouth before a strong wave of nausea and dizziness washed over her body. And she swayed, once, twice, before her footing came undone, and she lost all sense of balance.
And it felt like she fell into a warm pillow, or perhaps she was just delirious. But it truly resembled a warm, fluffy pillow. And she snuggled into it, ignoring the distant calls of her (Name). And Steve's breath got caught in his throat when he saw her closing her eyes in his arms.
--
Steve was aware that something was nagging his lover's mind, and he had been aware of it during the last week. It was like she walked on eggshells around him and it bothered him. Because something bothered her. Something about him bothered her.
He hadn't done anything differently, not that he was aware of. He hadn't said anything either. And he liked to think that he had a great memory.
And he still couldn't figure out why she didn't tell him about her injury. Banner had told him that she was lucky that the infections in her wound hadn't reached any further. But Steve had a hard time seeing anything positive with the situation at all.
Duobts clouded his mind and made it hard to think straight. How could he know that she hadn't hidden other injuries that she could've gotten?
As if her mind was connected to his, as if she heard his self-deprecating thoughts, she came to her senses and let out a long and low groan, snapping Steve out of his head.
He quickly discarded his block and pencil to the side, leaving the drawing on the small table by the side before crouching down to her height.
"(Name)?" He dared to ask, and his heart felt lighter when he saw her eyelids twitch in response. A sigh left her dry lips before her eyelids slowly cracked open and presented themselves to Steve, giving him a confirmation that she was there with him.
"Steve." It came as a breath, her voice warm with love as she saw the familiar face.
As light as a feather, he let his fingertips ghost along her temples, repeating the momentum over and over again. Her eyelids relaxed, and Steve's back tensed as she once again closed her eyes. But (Name) could feel his muscle become rigid, and let her hand gently enclose steves wrist, running circles on his inner arm as comfort. As she always did.
"Why didn't you tell me?" An audible sigh sounded from her mouth, and for a moment Steve was afraid that he had annoyed her. But her fingertips were still dancing along the expense of his arm, and he let that comfort him. Although, she didn't provide him with an answer.
"You can trust me. I want you to trust me." He reassured her, and vulnerability spilled through his voice. He grabbed her other hand that rested on her stomach, entangling their fingers.
"I do trust you." She hoarsely whispered, throat dry and mouth like sandpaper.
But when she forced her eyes open, Steve looked at her, unconvinced.
"Then why? Why didn't you tell me that you were in pain?"
She wanted to bathe in the softness of his voice. Get nurtured by it, drink it, and stay by the sound to the end of time. The fondness, bonded with her worrying, guilty, and anxious emotions from before created bittersweet sparks under her skin. And it took form as a watery mist, covering her live full irises.
"I do trust you, but I don't want to be a nuisance to you." She painfully admitted and laid her hand on his cheek as a peace offering." You work so hard to succeed Steve, so hard that when you don't succeed, you become very tense. I don't want to be there to make you even tenser."
He shut his eyes tightly and nuzzled his cheek further into her palm, and a drop of water fell from his eye, rolling down his summer-tinted cheeks.
"Why are you crying?" Worry etched in her brows, but he only shook his head.
"I made you think that you would be a burden to me whenever I felt a negative emotion." She shook her head, already beginning her protest." A partner is not supposed to do that (Name)."
He leaned down and kissed her forehead. "I'm sorry."
"Steve, it was not on you. You didn't make me feel like a burden. I did. And I'm sorry for not telling you about my injury." She smiled sadly at him when he kissed her palm.
"I want to take care of you, and comfort you. I want to be that person to you, so let me be that the next time." And she could only nodd, her heart being free from the shackles of heavy emotions. Instead, she felt light as a feather.
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My requests are open;););;);)
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g-n-c-quoi · 16 days
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i feel like the idea of “treatment” when it comes to being disabled is a very complex and nuanced concept and the way able bodied society as a whole but doctors especially approach it fails to address most of those nuances and in doing so fundamentally fails to meet the needs of disabled people. which, of course, is nothing new really, but i think a lot about this particular aspect of it and how deeply detrimental it can be
anecdotally, a lot of my personal experiences with doctors involved them prescribing me treatments that were, at best, completely asinine, and at worst, actively harmful to my health, and then treating it as a personal moral fault of mine that i wasn’t enthusiastically pursuing them
for example, i insisted repeatedly to my parents and providers alike that physical therapy for my EDS was proving not only agonizing in the short term but appearing to have little if any benefit in the long term, and was repeatedly brushed off because i “just wasn’t doing it consistently enough” and it was insisted to me on multiple occasions that this was the only way for me to feel better, while at the same time i was being denied access to mobility aids because they didn’t want me to become “dependent”
a lot has changed since then and as i’m learning more about my body and how to take care of it it baffles me how much more pain i was in on a daily basis and how little anyone around me was willing or able to help
and, like, i know none of this was a result of outright malice. i am lucky enough to have had most of my doctors be, at the very least, genuinely intending to try to help me. where the shortcomings were was in the response to me not engaging with a form of treatment that was proving to do more harm than good.
i think this happens for two reasons, the first being one we know already, which is that people in general- doctors in this case, but people as a whole- do not like being wrong. when what they have learned to be immutable fact proves to have exceptions, the way every rule does, they cannot comprehend it. some even take personal offense. it’s like, “i know your body better than you because i went to school for it and you didn’t”. a lot of disabled people are deeply familiar with this one, because it’s deeply pervasive in the medical field especially.
the other reason is that people cannot comprehend the idea of refusing something that is intended to make you feel better. when i went off my meds, when i would refuse over the counter painkillers, when i would flake out of therapy of either the physical or mental variety, i was met with shock and outrage because “i wasn’t trying to get better”, never mind my repeated assertions that these things were not helping me get better in the first place. no one could imagine i would opt out of something that was done to improve my symptoms for any reason other than teenage petulance, and so all of my concerns and complaints were dismissed as just that.
and, of course, now that i’ve found things that do help me- occasional mobility aid usage, medicinal use of cannabis, etc- it’s dismissed by all the same people as risky and not worth it. the same concerns i had about the treatments i was receiving.
another issue is the fact that once the one default Thing for your condition doesn’t work or you don’t want it they basically treat you like you’re out of options and are just doomed to feel like this forever. for me it was physical therapy, and in another case the stimulants i was prescribed when i was first diagnosed with adhd that they took me off of and then never tried anything else until like four years later
the whole thing is set up to make disabled people as reliant on doctors as possible for things that may not even be the best option for them
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ristois · 3 months
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Canon divergence AU where instead of Kanade finding Mafuyu in the rain, Mafuyu gets sucked into a broken fragment Sekai because of her broken phone and the Sekai does some memory fuckery.
Seriously, we need to talk about the implications of Akito's memories being wiped and whatever happens with the leaders after joint lives.
The fragment is based on Mafuyu's desire to run away, but it's twisted so that the memory of Mafuyu as a person is erased from most of the world. The only people who remember are people who have Sekais, which leads to a lot of panic from pretty much everyone who remembers her.
No one except for Niigo notices at first, because everyone who remembers her brushes off her disappearance as being sick or something, and the Sekai memory fuckery is making them overlook any strangeness from Mafuyu's disappearance. But Mafuyu is a crucial part of Niigo that can't be ignored, and they were previously looking for her, so they quickly realize something's up.
The rest of Niigo are frantically contacting their friends to see if anyone has seen Mafuyu, which ropes everyone else in the cast into helping them look, and subsequently realize that Mafuyu has been erased from everyone else's memories.
A whole thing happens where they try to figure out how her memory was erased and why only they can remember her (and also if they might be mass hallucinating this girl), which ends with them finding out about the other Sekais. And then they can finally get somewhere with the plot, because Akito brings up how his fragment Sekai gave him amnesia.
Cue the panicked concern from everyone else about memory bullshit, and also a Shinonome bonding moment with a worried Ena.
Anyways, they summon all their virtual singers to explain/help/give moral support, but having all five Mikus summons the OG Miku, who finally explains what happened. She tells them that they need to get stuff that was precious to Mafuyu so that she can get her out of the broken fragment.
And then the second round of concern for Mafuyu begins, because Niigo have to awkwardly explain that 1. She doesn't have many things that she likes, 2. The list of stuff they do know she likes is very short and includes intangible things (Niigo's music and hanging out with them), 3. They have beef with her mom which means they can't get her aquarium, and oh yeah! The Sekai that she formed on her own (Niigo have a worried conversation about Tsukasa also forming his own Sekai) and that is reflective of her feelings, is barren. The implications of Niigo's mental health definitely comes up at this point.
But in the end, they get bunny apples (courtesy of Ichika), the aquarium from Sekai, pictures from some of Niigo's outings, and Kanade's phone playing Niigo songs. OG Miku appears and sucks all of the cast into Empty Sekai along with the stuff, and with the power of friendship and Miku, and also a song because of course, Mafuyu gets saved! And Mafuyu can finally be domestic with Kanade.
Okay what the heck. I started with a funny little 'haha what if Mafuyu was betrayed by the Sekai's memory fuckery?' and this devolved so fast. I only sat down to write down my idea and instead I spat this entire thing out of my head in one go???
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ichxraaa · 9 months
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the little things ft. nanase haruka
⤷ sometimes haru can´t help but wonder f you wud be better with someone else, someone... less boring.
⊱♥︎ is the free! fandom as dead as a ghost town? probably, do i care? not at all, i have been watching the last season and this little thing came up, i have many feelings about haruka nanase.
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Haruka wouldn’t necessarily call himself boring, but if put side by side with his friends he could. He doesn’t have Asahi’s boldness, or Nagisa’s bubbliness, or Kisumi’s way of making anyone feel welcome, much less Rin’s ease to break the ice stating that even while having a girl’s name he is a boy, and of course he is far from having Makoto’s wit to start a conversation with any topic. 
And after the first awkward stage of your relationship breaks, the one from the first 3 months give or take he begins to worry about it in a way he simply didn’t care about before. 
He finds it odd, new. The past year he has been so confused and then hesitant to take your friendship from just that to a relationship that he never really thought how things would be once you were together. 
And it’s been bothering ever since he accidentally heard a conversation you had with a friend last week when he went to pick you up from the library. 
“…But seriously, what do you two even talk about?” She laughs, and you laugh with her. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard him say more than three words together”.
“You just haven’t been lucky then, but don’t worry about me, Haru is plenty interesting even when he is quiet”.
And your answer eases him, and yet he can’t help but be bugged about it in an intrusive way that shows up even when he is trying to eat. 
Right now you’re lying next to him. Your feet are on his lap and his are next to your hips. Sitting on opposing sides of the couch you’re both reading. He can see you’re really focused by the way your brows have furrowed. 
Is this really what you’d like to be doing right now? It is Friday night and even if he has practice tomorrow morning, you don’t. 
“Do you wanna do something else tonight?”
“Mmm?” Your eyes lift from the page with a curious look headed his way. There’s always something in the way you look at him, so openly and intensely yet kind and soft that has him nearly blushing.
“I was just wondering if maybe you wanted to go out or something…”
You smile, hand reaching for his calves and softly massaging the hard muscle. “Not really, do you want to go out?”.
“Not really”.
You laugh and put your book down on the floor while snuggling into the armrest. He inadvertently moves to give you room to accommodate yourself.
“Do you wanna watch a bad movie and order take out?” You ask.
Haru smiles, softly and  nearly missable from the untrained eye. 
Sometimes Haru worries you’re gonna get bored of him, he frequently quotes his grandma as a source of wisdom, he eats nearly the same stuff every day and he is obsessed with water. 
If only he knew those same particularities are such a big part of why you fell in love so quickly, why you went to bed dreaming of the day where you would be bold enough to tell him how you felt. Except he had beat you to it.
Sometimes he worries you’re gonna get bored of him, but fortunately right now his biggest concern is what kind of mackerel dish he’s gonna get for dinner.
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This isn’t a bodega
based off this prompt
-
Tim stared at the glowing boy that had just entered the cave. the boy seemed unreal, with pale skin, white hair, and a vacant expression. they glowed with a faint white light and were floating a few inches off the ground. the blinked a few times looking around the cave as though they were lost.
“are you guys seeing this?” Tim asked, making eye contact with the boy. his eyes were glowing a familiar Lazarus green. Tim would normally take that as a sign that they were here as a threat except the being was raising it’s eyebrows and looking confused as hell.
“hmm?” Dick hummed, not looking up from his spot at the bat computer.
“the glowing dead kid,” Tim clarified.
Dick yawned, “i think you need some sleep, Timmy.” he still hadn’t looked up.
Tim frowned. he was tired. he didn’t think he was hallucination tired yet though, that usually hit around the three day mark. Tim was solidly at two and a half. but no one else seemed to be acknowledging the being so Tim did the only logical thing.
he approached the boy to get more information. normally that would be considered dumb and reckless, but hey, it wasn’t like he was alone. if the being started attacking him, the others would at least notice that.
“are you real?” was the first thing he asked the glowing boy. it seemed best to rule that out first.
the boy blinked a few times. “i think so. i mean probably.”
Tim nodded, more to himself than as an answer.
the boy gazed at Tim, “this isn’t a bodega.”
Tim nodded again, this time in agreement. he was right about the boy seeming lost.
they stared at each other for what most would consider an awkward amount of Tim.
“can you point me to the nearest source of coffee?” the boy asked.
coffee, mmmm...
Tim took a moment to process the rest of the sentence. “oh, uh... Alfred cuts me off after midnight now.” he pouted. he wasn’t allowed to drink the coffee that was upstairs.
“okay.” the boy said.
the stood silently again. Tim thought some more.
“there’s a gas station on the edge of the city limits that’s not far. probably only 7 miles or so.”
the boy lit up. literally, his glow brightened. “can you show me?”
“oh yeah, for sure, the coffee is crap but it’ll do the job. can I come? I need to get my bike.”
“Dude, of course you can come, i have no idea where you’re talking about and I somehow ended up underground. I need you, bro.” the boy said reaching out a gloved hand. Tim noticed that he was wearing a hazmat suit for some reason. he didn’t recognize the company logo on the front. “and don’t worry about the bike, I can just fly us there.”
oh so he was a superhero. that made sense and probably explained why he was glowing and floating and could access the cave despite the security.
Tim took the heroes hand, smiling happily. he was gonna get him some coffee
-
Dick went to bed, under the impression the Tim had already went up. Bruce, who had a meeting in the morning, had already headed to bed and left his kids to finish the case files for the night. Damian had gone to bed the moment they returned from patrol because he had school in the morning.
it would be many hours before anyone noticed Tim wasn’t in his bed or at his job. Bruce and Damian went off to where they needed in the morning. Alfred had knocked lightly on Tim’s door but decided to let the boy sleep in. dick had slept in and spent the morning lazing around the manor because he had another day before he had to return to Bludhaven.
it was around noon when Alfred decided to properly wake Tim up and found his bed empty. he asked dick if he’d seen him. dick answered in the negative. he called Tam at Wayne Enterprise and received a negative answer. he texted and called Tim’s cell phone and received no answer, only later finding the phone in the batcave charging on an outlet. Alfred was starting to feel concerned so he contacted Barbara.
it turned out the last anyone had seen Tim had been last night when dick told him to go to bed. Barbara checked the batcave camera’s and found something quite bizarre. a spot of static appeared on the cameras from multiple angles. it was like the static was in reality rather than a glitching of the screens. 
Tim stared at it. Dick didn’t notice it. Tim walked up to it. Tim seemed to talk to the static for a long moment. Tim touched the static, Tim's form became static. the static disappeared soon after. all this happened unnoticed behind Dick’s back.
Barbara set out a red alert and started searching her cameras for any other instances of static since Tim had gone missing at 1:34am. it had been almost 12 hours.
-
the trip to the gas station had been uneventful by Tim's standards. they flew over, entered the shop portion and ordered coffee. the worker barely blinked at the glowing boy, and he was well used to seeing Tim at ant hour. the hero paid for both their drinks and Tim held and sipped at his paper cup.
ahhh, this was shit. but it was warm and caffeinated and that had to be enough for now.
slowly some of his finer brain functions came back to him and he found himself staring at the glowing boy and realizing he had no idea who the guy was or even if he was registered with the league. he’d bought Tim coffee so he doubted the boy was evil, but hallucinations didn’t generally buy him coffee so this might well be a person he was interacting with.
“what’s your name?” he asked belatedly
the boy sipped his own coffee. “Danny.” he said as though he too were confused at how they had both wound up there but was too content to drink shitty gas station coffee to act overly concerned. “you?”
Tim glanced down at his clothes to see if he was still wearing his costume. he wasn’t he was wearing bike shorts and a large pink t-shirt that said “snexy (snail sexy)” in bold letterers. his guess was that it used to belong to either Dick or Steph. it was his now. “Tim,” he finally answered.
Danny nodded. “so want me drop you off back home?”
Tim tilted his head, turning his cup in his hand. he wasn’t allowed to have the coffee at home. “i have time,” he decided.
Danny nodded again. “is there a place to get better coffee at this time of night?” he asked, clearly knowing that the shitty gas station coffee wouldn’t sustain him for long. Tim of course agreed.
“there’s a 24 hour internet cafe on grotto st.”
Danny held out his hand. “lets go”
-
Tim and Danny ended up playing doom in the internet cafe for 4 hours. Danny it turned out was really good at it and knew a lot of cheat codes Tim didn’t. Tim tried not to take that personally. it was still surprisingly fun and normal and no one has tried to kill them in the 5 hours they’d been out. Tim wondered if Danny was shielding them from harm or something. maybe he was just lucky? Tim didn't want to jinx it.
finally they wound down, the workers were changing shift and that was usually a good indicator that it was time to leave. Tim stretched and Danny stretched further. he reminded Tim of Dick a bit, it was like his bones were made of rubber or something.
“now what?” Danny asked and Tim checked his watch. he was definitely hitting the territory of sleep deprivation where he’d start hallucinating and he doubted Danny would be much help given he also was clearly just as sleep deprived as time. they’d both been chugging espresso while playing doom. Tim felt wired but also tired.
never let it be said that he didn’t recognize his own limitations. “guess we should probably head to bed. you live near here?”
“me? live?” the boy chuckled raising his eyebrows. then his smile dropped. “i have no idea where here is.”
“okay, that’s chill. i’m too tired to think of a solution yet, so how about we just crash at one of my safe houses and i’ll call you a cab when we wake up and figure out where you’re from.”
the boy made a face, possibly because Tim said safe house instead of apartments. but shrugged anyway. “sounds good to me.”
-
the nearest safe house was one of Jason's but Tim doubted he’d be using it or mind overly much if Tim slept there. Jason was one of the biggest worriers about Tim's sleep schedule so he’d probably appreciate the fact that Tim was sleeping.
Danny crashed on the couch and Tim watched as two rings of light spread from his middle out and turned him into a normal looking teenager in ratty clothes. it was honestly better than a hazmat suit. he even stopped glowing and floating. so Tim mentally shrugged and put it in the superpower column of what he knew about Danny and went to the bed to sleep.
it was several hours later, but not long enough that someone burst into the apartment. Danny being closer to the door rolled blearily to his feet and raised his fists to fight whatever ghost had decided to interrupt his nap. Tim wasn’t far behind, bursting out of the bedroom holding a long lamp as a makeshift staff.
“what the fuck, Tim!” Jason yelled and Tim needed a moment to process that it was his brother who burst in.
“oh, hi, Jason,” Tim put the lamp down but Danny didn’t leave his fighting stance. he looked slightly more confused and relaxed when no one immediately attacked him.
“don’t hi me, where the fuck have you been? who the fuck is that orphan wannabe? what’s going on?”
Tim, still half asleep, shrugged. “that’s Danny.”
Danny was staring at Jason with squinted eyes. “you smell bad.”
“excuse you?” Jason hissed eyes flashing green.
understanding dawned on Danny's face, an expression Tim had found to be rare in the hours he’d known Danny.
Danny stepped out of his fighting stance and went to stand directly in front of Jason. “any recent portal accidents, my guy?”
“what?” Jason asked, only to be cut off by Danny shoving his hand into his chest. there was no blood or gore or anything. Danny just cleanly passed through Jason like he was made of mist.
“what are you doing!?” Jason gasped alarmed as Danny seemed so rotate his hand like he was spinning yarn around it. time was also getting alarmed and picked his lamp back up. before he could hit Danny over the head with it though, Danny finished what ever he was doing and pulled his hand out of Jason’s chest. Jason was seemingly uninjured.
around Danny's hand was what looked like red glowing goo. the slime ran down his fingers and smelled rank even from this distance.
“all done,” Danny said sleepily and reached into a back pocket with his clean hand to pull out a thermos. he clicked a button and suctioned the red goo off his hand with a flash of light.
“what the hell...” Jason whispered, putting a hand to his chest. he no longer felt the hazy green pit rage that had haunted him for the last three years.instead there was just a feeling of warmth. like a hot bath, like steam at the center of his being. “what did you do to me?”
Danny yawned. “cleaned your plasm. you smell less like fruit loop now.”
that clarified nothing.
“what are you?” tim asked, now somewhat awake enough to ask the questions he didn’t last night.
“halfa” Danny shrugged. “so is this guy, though he’s a lot weaker. needs to drink him some non-contaminated ectoplasm. will probably help stabilize his core.”
“what...?” Jason said. he was still whispering, clearly going into some sort of shock.
Tim inwardly shrugged. he needed coffee before he could start a proper interrogation. “hey Jay you have any coffee?”
Jason gave him an incredulous look, but Danny hummed in agreement and started checking cabinets
“i should probably head back to my hotel before my sister freaks out,” Danny said finding the beans and giving a small cheer. Tim cheered with him and helped Danny set up the pot. Jason was still standing in the doorway, hand against his chest and staring into space like he was haunted by something. “i had fun though. it’s been a while since I've had such a normal outing.”
Tim thought for a moment about everything they did and the weirdness that was Danny. finally he hummed in agreement. it was one of his more normal outings. “wanna exchange numbers?”
“sure,” Danny said. “we should do this again sometime.” Danny glanced at Jason. “and i guess you should call me if you guys have any questions about him. being a halfa isn’t easy, especially when you’re figuring it out alone.”
“halfa...” Jason repeated in a distant voice.
the coffee finished brewing and Tim poured them both a mug. Danny took a deep sip, cradling the cup in his hands and just enjoying the aroma and moment. he wrote his number on a napkin on the counter and then smiled brightly at Tim. this time he wasn’t literally glowing, but it was no less bright.
“see ya, Tim” he said transforming in a flash of light and flying through the wall. he took the coffee mug with him.
Tim blinked several times sipping his coffee and finally waking up enough to realize that that was not at all a normal encounter and he probably should have asked a lot more questions and what the hell did that kid do to Jason? Tim looked at the number on the napkin and hoped it was real because he definitely had questions.
maybe if he was lucky this would all be a hallucination after all.
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kinkandkreep · 7 months
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♡︎ 𝐂𝐖: 𝐌𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐥 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲, 𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐫
♡︎ "__" 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞
♡︎ 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞
♡︎ 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @missgab @sucidalbutpretty @kawaiimusiccollection @nekogeisha-blog @k-cris @dreamsygirl @fishisahappydog @mikeyaki @mytaiyakeylover @tampon-earrings @wakashudou @aaria-malfoy @halparkebitch @cashout-princess @loveameripanshipperlove
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Following your episode at dinner, you and Izana made yourselves comfortable on his plush leather couch, snuggling close to one another, with Toto finding his home curled up in your lap. You’d slipped out of your dinner outfit, now clad in one of Izana’s big shirts and some leggings.
Something was queued up on the television, but neither of you paid what was on much mind. Instead, you were both caught up in your own thoughts. 
Izana, though he knew it probably wasn’t the most appropriate thing, kept replaying your earlier words in his head. 
‘__ slept with Hanma? Does that mean there’s potentially something more between them?’ 
The white haired man worries his bottom lip as he thinks, eyes glazed with concern. 
It’s somewhat shameful, he knows, but upon hearing that Manjiro had made such a huge, terrible decision and pushed you away, Izana thought that perhaps now might be his chance to do what he should have done years ago before the little blond bastard snatched you away from him. 
He wasn’t too apt to admit it, though he wasn’t necessarily ashamed of it, but Izana was fairly certain he’d been in love with you for about as long as he’d known you. Of course, as cognizant as he was of this, and as good as he was at masking his emotions most of the time, he figured that neither you nor anyone else would be privy to that information. 
Except for one person. 
Izana’s frown deepens at the thought that Manjiro had known about his love for you, and that his decision to marry you was partly motivated by spite. It’s certainly a horrible thought, but it’s a thought Izana can’t help but have nevertheless. 
Now though, with the revelation that you’ve actually slept with Hanma, Izana can feel the most minute amount of fear creep along his spine that you’ll be swept away from him again. 
His hand absentmindedly rubs your arms in a manner meant to be comforting, but it also serves to ground him as his thoughts spiral.
You, on the other hand, are consumed with thoughts about where this night is headed. 
You’re not sure why you divulged the fact that you’d slept with Hanma to Izana, but now that you had, you felt a strange sort of tension between the two of you. 
You hoped Izana wouldn’t judge or think differently of you now, even though you knew the likelihood of that happening was nearly nonexistent. 
But why then were things now so awkward?
‘Was it because I cried? Now that I think about it, that was kind of embarrassing. Aw man, I knew I should’ve just kept quiet.’
You sigh, which of course catches Izana’s attention. 
“You ok __? If you’re tired, you’re welcome to the guest room, or even my bed if you’d prefer that.” 
You looked over at the clock mounted on the wall. It was pretty late, running up on midnight, and your earlier crying session had admittedly left you a little worn out. 
“Thanks NaNa, I actually am kind of tired. I’ll take the guest room, no problem. I wouldn’t want to kick you out of your own space.” Standing, your cradle little Toto, who up to this point had been asleep, to your chest, placing a little smooch on his fluffy head.
“Where should I deposit the little one?”
Something about the visual of you cradling a little bundle dressed in an article of his clothing has Izana’s heart fluttering a little bit. 
“Uh, his bed is in my room. Here, I’ll show you the way.” 
You follow Izana, cooing at the sleeping Toto the short walk to his bedroom. 
Once there, you gently place the sleeping pup down, watching fondly as he shifts slightly before settling. 
"I'm happy he's so comfortable around you. I don't think I mentioned it before, but Toto was a stray. I found him wandering the streets near my apartment one day, if you can believe it. He was really hesitant initially for anyone to come near him, but overtime he's grown more open to other people. Though you seem to have left an especially good impression."
Izana chuckles, clasping a hand on your shoulder and gently squeezing. 
You smile. "Just call me the pup whisperer." 
A little bit later, you've settled into the guest room for the night. It's around 1 o'clock now, and while you mentioned being tired earlier, you find that you’re having trouble falling asleep. 
Visions of your earlier encounter with Mikey and flashes of the pictures exposing his infidelity plague your mind this particular night, causing you to toss and turn. 
You stop for a moment, listening for Izana. 
‘Ugh, this is so stupid. Why can’t I just forget and fall asleep?’
You huff, frustrated with and frankly over the whole situation. 
It takes a few more minutes, but eventually you decide that you’ve had it. Standing, you quietly make your way over to Izana’s bedroom. The door is slightly ajar, and you peek inside. 
The man seems to be sound asleep, laying lateral with his right hand tucked under his head. His breaths are quiet and even- long, white lashes fanned out over stubbornly plump cheeks. 
You can’t help but giggle quietly at the thought. NaNa always complained about how stubborn the fat on his cheeks was, and how they’d never slimmed down like Mikey’s. 
Steeling yourself, you push the door open more, easing inside and carefully shutting it behind you. 
You stand to the side of the bed for about a minute, contemplating your next move. 
‘Should I just…get in bed with him? That would be kind of invasive, and I’d hate to wake him up over something so silly.’
Having successfully convinced yourself that this whole endeavor was stupid, you prepare to turn and exit the room, being stopped when you hear a low voice mumble “__?”
You turn, only to see vibrant lavender irises blearily focused on you.  
“Hey NaNa. Sorry, did I wake you? I was just…ugh, what was I doing?”
You sigh, feeling even worse now that you’ve accidentally woken your host. 
“It’s ok. What’s the matter? Come here.”
Izana sits upright, opening his arms and gesturing for you to come closer with his hands. 
Before you really recognize it, you’re launching yourself into his embrace, feeling more than hearing the rumble of a chuckle he releases in his chest. 
“It’s ok, __. Would you like to talk about what’s bothering you, or do you just need someone there to help you sleep?”
Your response is muffled, but Izana can make out the word “both” before you begin to pull away from his chest. He’s still somewhat groggy from sleep, but he can see the beginnings of tears well up in your eyes. 
“Sorry to wake you with this,” you say, rubbing the heels of your palms forcefully into your eyeballs. 
Izana chuckles, shaking his head dismissively. 
“It’s no bother at all. I’m glad you find some comfort, however small, in me.”
You can’t help the tiny smile that forms at Izana’s words. You’re grateful in the moment that you’ve got such an amazing support system surrounding you. 
“Thanks NaNa, I truly appreciate you.”
The two of you snuggle close to one another as you lie down, your face buried into Izana’s neck and chest. You breathe in deep lungfuls of his naturally spicy, slightly sweet scent, happy to find that the rhythm you’ve adopted in combination with the comforting smell is slowly lulling you to sleep. 
Izana tenderly and lightly scratches his fingers over your scalp, hoping to soothe you even further. Trying to be as subtle as possible, or at least, more subtle than you anyway, he breathes in your scent as well, eyelids fluttering over lilac irises as it invades his senses. 
“I love you, __.”
Mostly asleep by this point, and not thinking too much of it, you respond:
“Love you too, NaNa.”
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When the morning arrives, you find that you’ve slept quite fitfully. Being snuggled up to Izana left you pleasantly warm and comfortable, and your mood has improved drastically from the night prior. 
Yawning and stretching until you hear a satisfying pop sound, you look over to your host, finding that he’s still fast asleep. 
He looks adorable, curled up and breathing quietly through his slightly parted lips. 
Smiling, you lean down without thinking and place a kiss on his exposed forehead. NaNa’s hair has grown out over the years, not being as long as it was when you were younger, but it still reaches about shoulder length, and is much fluffier than before as well. 
The gentle touch of your lips to his skin causes Izana to stir, and he eventually blinks open tired eyes to focus on you. 
“Good morning, __.” Izana’s voice is much raspier after sleep. 
“Good morning NaNa. So, what shall we do for breakfast? If you’re awake enough for that.” 
The man chuckles, slowly sitting up and stretching in much the same manner as you had earlier. 
“How about we try this European recipe I discovered a little bit ago? I should have all the ingredients, and it’s very simple to make.”
You nod, ecstatic about the prospect of food. “Sounds good to me.” 
About 30 minutes later, after both you and Izana have washed up for the day, you find yourselves in the kitchen, an assortment of bread, cheese, fruit and preserves laid out before you on the counter. 
“Wow NaNa, we haven’t even made whatever you’re talking about yet and it already looks delicious.” You can feel saliva pooling in your mouth in anticipation as Izana laughs. 
“And that’s not all. No breakfast anywhere would be complete without eggs.” 
Grabbing the eggs from the fridge, Izana spends the next 15 or so minutes showing you how to make lightly buttered brioche toast coated with fresh strawberry preserves and paired with fluffy, goat cheese eggs and even more fresh fruit. 
“Here, put some of the egg on your toast and try everything in one bite.” Izana holds up an egg covered portion of the buttered and jammed toast for you to taste. 
Leaning forward and taking what was probably a larger bite than would be considered polite, you hum approvingly, thoroughly enjoying the melding of the flavors, from the sweetness of the fruit to the tanginess of the cheese and savoriness of the eggs and butter. 
“This is delicious NaNa. It’s a good thing you found this recipe. And it’s so simple! I could make this for myself when I go back-...home…”
The thought of having to return to where Manjiro is halts you in your tracks, and your expression subconsciously falls.
Seeing this, Izana frowns, before placing a comforting hand on your shoulder and squeezing reassuringly. 
“Hey, you’re welcome to stay here for as long as you need. No rush, no need to stress.”
You offer him a sad smile, one which he readily returns, though his has a more cheerful edge to it. 
“Now, enough of that sadness. We’ve got the whole day ahead of us, and I don’t plan to let it go to waste.”
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Spending the day with Izana seemed to be exactly what you needed. 
The two of you hit the town with a vengeance, stopping by all your favorite stores and small shops, not spending a whole ton of money but splurging here and there. You wouldn’t normally have indulged in retail therapy to soothe your frazzled nerves, but you found that it was actually proving to be quite effective. 
Around lunch time, you and Izana decided to hit up a new spot, one that specialized in Western cuisine. 
“So, feelin’ better?” Izana asks over a mouthful of Chicago deep dish pizza. 
“Much, all thanks to you.” You give him a much brighter smile than before, proceeding to stuff your face with your own slice. 
The two of you relax, chat and eat for the better part of an hour in the little restaurant, your previous vexations all but forgotten. 
Izana seems to have swiftly become a balm for all your worries, one which you are increasingly grateful for. As he eats, you observe him quietly, not realizing you’re staring so intently until you hear him distantly calling your name. 
“__.”
You startle a bit, blinking a couple times before humming in response. 
“Uh, yeah? Sorry, I didn’t mean to zone out there.”
Izana smiles, shaking his head. 
“No worries. But I asked if you had decided what you were going to do regarding the situation with Manjiro.” 
You sigh, picking up and absently wiping at your hands with a napkin before setting it on your now cleared plate. 
“I haven’t. Not really anyway. I’d initially decided that I was going to “make him suffer,” and while I do feel that I’ve, at least to some extent, been successful in doing that, I haven’t really made myself feel any better either. This situation is just so terrible and messed up, and I hate the fact that I’ve been pushed into it.”
You can feel the tears creeping up, and you lift your eyes, tilting your head back and taking a deep, steadying breath in and out to stave off the impending waterfall. 
Izana frowns, wishing more than anything that he could go back in time and change the past, so that maybe he could have done what he should have from the start, and spared you the heartbreak. 
Reaching over, Izana covers one of your hands with his own, squeezing gently for comfort. 
“I’m so sorry __. I wish I could do more to comfort you.” 
You shake your head, giving him a little smile. “No NaNa, you’ve done more than enough. Thank you.”
With that, the two of you finish up your meals, with Izana insisting on paying the tab. As you exit the establishment, a violent shiver shoots through you and you quickly jerk your head around in all directions, trying to locate whatever it is that made you so on alert. 
“__? You ok?” Izana watches you with a lifted brow. 
You don’t respond for a few seconds, still searching for the source of your sudden discomfort. Finding nothing, you breathe out a sigh, shaking your head to steady yourself. 
“Yeah just…felt something odd a moment ago.”
Izana’s lips purse in thought. “Hmm, I wonder what it could have been?”
Deciding to simply brush the strange feeling off, you hook your arm around Izana’s, loudly declaring that now you want to head to a dessert shop, something which makes the white haired man laugh.
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Unbeknownst to the both of you, a certain blonde ex-gang leader sits observing your interaction from across the way. 
He sips quietly from his coffee cup, the hand not holding the glass clenched tightly into a fist on his lap. 
His mind swirls with violent machinations, though his expression remains uncharacteristically, and somewhat frighteningly, flat. 
Sitting down his drink, the man pulls out his phone, quickly sending a text before pocketing the device once more. 
‘Oh __, what a silly girl you are. But don’t worry, I promise I’m going to make everything alright again.’
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ᵃ/ⁿ: ……..🙂 ʰᵉᵉᵉᵉᵉᵉᵉʸʸʸʸ ʸ'ᵃˡˡ…….
ᵒᵏ ᵖˡᵉᵉᵉᵉᵉᵃˢᵉ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ʲᵘᵐᵖ ᵐᵉ, ⁱ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ᶠᵃᵉᵛᵃ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵃ ᵈᵃʸ ˢⁱⁿᶜᵉ ⁱ ᵘᵖᵈᵃᵗᵉᵈ ᵗʰⁱˢ ˢᵗᵒʳʸ. 😭
ᵇᵘᵗ ⁱ ᵃⁱⁿ'ᵗ ᶠᵃʰᵍᵒᵗ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵍⁱʳˡⁱᵉˢ! ⁱˢ ʲᵘˢ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ᵃ ˡᵒᵗ ᵍᵒⁱⁿ' ᵒⁿ ʷⁱᵗ ᵐᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ⁱ ᵃˡˢᵒ ʰⁱᵗ ᵃ ʳᵒᵃᵈᵇˡᵒᶜᵏ ᵃˢ ᶠᵃʳ ᵃˢ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ⁱ ʷᵃⁿᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵗᵒʳʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵒʷ ⁱ ʷᵃⁿᵗᵉᵈ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍˢ ᵗᵒ ᵖʳᵒᵍʳᵉˢˢ. 
ⁱ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᵃⁱⁿ'ᵗ ᵍᵒᵗ ⁱᵗ ᶜᵒᵐᵖˡᵉᵗᵉˡʸ ᶠⁱᵍᵘʳᵉᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ ʸᵉᵗ ᵇᵘᵗ ʷᵉ ᵍᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿ' ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ. 😂
ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵉᵃⁿᵗⁱᵐᵉ, ⁱ ʰᵒᵖᵉ ʸ'ᵃˡˡ ᵉⁿʲᵒʸᵉᵈ ᵗʰⁱˢ ᵘᵖᵈᵃᵗᵉ! ˡᵉᵗ ᵐᵉ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵘᵍᵍᵉˢᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᵐᵉⁿᵗˢ! 👋🏾
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cheesus-doodles · 1 year
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Yandere Bestfriend Dabi HCs
this has been sitting in my drafts for two years now, please take this because Dabi needs more love on my dash ;-;
Previous BFF Dabi hcs
Masterlist
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sadistic and aloof Dabi may be in public as a villain, but all that simply melts away back into the Toya you knew as a kid
a bestfriend is a bestfriend after all, and he still has a role to play - if he didn't watch over you at all times, who knew what kind of trouble you would get yourself into?
someone that is very uncomfortable in his own skin, but you make that feeling go away whenever he's with you
Dabi claims not to trust anyone, especially not heroes or his family, but of course there's always an exception, and that exception is you
you knew Dabi was strong, a man with a very powerful quirk that he could wield and and an even stronger will, but you were never scared of him, just the leaping flames that sometimes surprise you
he was just another person, a human, a friend
starts crashing your house more and more often - Dabi definitely doesn't bother with building his visits up slowly
its more like one week he only comes once, and then the next week onwards he's there every spare minute he has
basically as good as moves in with you
of course you don't really mind much, Dabi is your bestfriend afterall, and you are very aware of his home situation
you aren't home that much anyway, having taken up a full time job to pay for your bills -living is costly, and you are no top hero, so wage is low
and if Dabi moves in with you, you joke that you might have to take a second job as well to pay for the both of you
this boy definitely contributes his fair share to the bills from whatever he draws from being a villain - doesn't want you working more than you should
the more you work, the less time he gets to spend with you after all
tried out stalking back when the two of you became friends but fell out of it as it was hard to follow you everywhere when he was just a kid, but now that he was a free man, the habit comes roaring back with a vengeance
surprisingly good at blending in with the crowd, Dabi follows you absolutely everywhere, taking note of where you go and who you interacted with
this boy is smart with a capital S, can work out your plans and intentions from just what you tell him and what he knows about you, but no doubt he still snoops in your diary and calendar and phone just to make sure his instincts are on point
anyone that is a threat to the relationship between the two of you gets eliminated in his next villain attack - Dabi is not above maiming innocent civilians to keep you by his side and as only his friend
needs your attention constantly on him to feel human, simply no one else's will do
have no qualms manipulating you and your emotions so that you felt that the world was turning against you, that no one cared about you except for him
gaslighting you about events that occured, telling you that your other friends and colleagues were just faking their concern for you
the more isolated you were, the better for him - you were much safer with him than anyone else after all
tried to turn up unexpected at your work, only for you to immediately jump on him, cover him up with your hoodies, and kick him out
honestly this baby boy didn't realize in that moment that he stands out even though he knows this very well at any other point in time
but he just wanted to surprise you at work and steal more of your time
so soft towards you that it was as if Dabi was a different person all together
not Dabi, the psycho mass murderer, not even Toya, the ambitious young Todoroki
it was just him, your bestfriend
woud go out of his way to get you whatever you wanted, or whatever he thought you wanted
complains that he doesn't like to live at base - villains have much poorer hygiene standards compared to you
but he just prefers your place and your free patching services compared to having to do it all himself if he lives at base
will try to convince you to leave your job - swears that he makes enough to pay your rent and all your living expenses, but you can see right through him and refuse
he might be sadistic and unhinged to everyone else, but your happiness is his happiness - and anyone that takes his happiness away will be eliminated
Dabi always thought that killing heroes and dragging his father's name through the mud was his life's goal, but he quickly realised how highly you ranked when you almost got caught up in a fight between the League and heroes
yes while he still wanted to dismantle the entire heroes' association, he didn't want to do it at your expense
scrambled to get you out of there in secret without exposing your existence to either side - Dabi doesn't know if he can stop himself if anything happens to you
the last thing he wanted was for any one to find out he had a bestfriend that he was soft for
acts very confident all the time, but this boy is anything but around you; the one thing that weights constantly on his mind is you leaving him in disgust
will never let you watch the news, goes to the extent of breaking your television and snatching your phone away from you if he sees the news starting to play any of his fights
easier to apologise to you and promise to replace your broken appliance than risk you seeing his completely unhinged side that had no issues killing civilians and high school students alike
even if you support him while he opposes the very concept of heroes, there was no doubt that was where you would draw the line
the thought of you trying to leave him pained his heart enough to promise himself that if you ever did, he would do anything to make you stay even if you hated him
he burn the soles of your feet, char your skin, take your sight from you, burn the whole world down
if he had you, he didn't need anything else
but for now, while you were still happy to host him in your house and hum while cooking your bestfriend a hot meal, Dabi was simply happy to be here
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istadris · 3 months
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On the Koopalings and Bowser
I never know on which foot dance when it comes to Bowser's relationship with the Koopalings.
On one hand, yes, Bowser being a tired dad to 8 kids with most of them being adopted is cute (and a nightmare for me to handle in fics), and I respect and appreciate fanworks including that. I also understand that Nintendo retconned the familial bond and most Mario fans are used to the Koopalings being considered Bowser's family.
On the other hand, I didn't grow up with material where they are Bowser's kids, most of my exposition to them were games where they're his lieutenants, with Junior as Bowser's only son.
It so happens that I love complex relationships; found families that are difficult to define and don't fall neatly under the usual family labels; ambivalent feelings about a parental figure who clearly isn't your official parent.
With that said, hear me out on how I see the Koopa royal family dynamics :
Koopas can reproduce either with a partner or through parthenogenesis, birthing on their own a near clone of themselves (although if you ever call a Koopa kid born this way a clone in front of their parents, they're likely to beat the shit out of you and everyone in the vicinity will agree the reaction is justified, if a bit overemotional). Because laying an egg and providing for a baby all by yourself is very demanding, Koopas reproducing through this method go into a very intense nesting/brooding mode, basically turning off every function that isn't "take care of youngling" and becoming very aggressive.
When Bowser decided to have Junior (and morphed into a very broody Giga Bowser), everyone in the castle stayed clear from him...which facilitated sneaking into the castle for a bunch of half-feral orphaned Koopalings scrapping by to survive and hoping to nab enough food and money to live another day. Thankfully for them, when Bowser came across them, instead of registering them as "threat" (and eating them alive), due to how young and malnourished most of them were, his brain went "hungry baby. Must feed baby" before he dragged them back to his nest. When Bowser turned back to normal, he basically went through his day as normal, except now "normal" includes a bunch of kids.
Main reasons for this attitude :
He's Very Bad at talking about his emotions beyond "I HATE MARIO"
As far as he's concerned, the Koopalings are his kids now too. Even if he doesn't mention. If they're okay with it or course. If anyone else has an issue with it, he'll deal with them, and if they don't like it, they'll bring it up, but otherwise why make a fuss?
Kamek is the one doing the paperwork, so he's waiting for a sort of green light to put them down as his kids or something.
Kamek has been diligently dodging the question of adding 7 kids to the royal line of succession for several years now.
So for a while at the beginning, the Koopalings ended up in a weird limbo state where their status within the Koopa Troop was unclear. Ludwig, worrying the wind might turn someday, encouraged the oldest (and later the youngest) to make themselves useful. Which led Bowser and his officers and mages to give the Koopalings more stuff to do, and through the years, they gradually went up the ranks and became Bowser's Terrors and main lieutenants. Still, neatly calling Bowser "Dad" is a tad more complex than their actual feelings on the matter.
By the time Junior is 10, the dynamics go like this :
Ludwig (in his early-mid twenties) has always minded the Koopalings and is very protective of them. He's also deeply devoted to Bowser, who got them out of the gutter and gave them a chance. He's extremely informal towards Bowser and would never dare calling him Dad or even Father : it's "Lord Bowser", "Sir" or "His Majesty", and he would die for him (although not without making sure his death has an efficient, long-lasting impact useful for the kingdom). Even Bowser thinks he needs to chill.
Roy (very early twenties) is one of the only ones who remember having a dad, and it wasn't a fun experience. Still, he remembers what it was like, and Bowser being actually a decent father figure messes a lot with Roy's daddy issues. He wants to hate Bowser, especially once he's in his teens, because that's what being a cool guy is for, but even he can admit Bowser is badass. Still, most of the times, it's easier for Roy to call Bowser "Boss" and treat him as such, respect and all.
Wendy (around 16) is more than fine being Bowser's Most Specialest Daddy's Girl. She was born for this. She doesn't remember a lot from the pre Bowser life but she does keep in memory being insanely jealous of pretty girls with fancy toys, and never truly got over it. She noticed Bowser hardly refuses her anything when she calls him "Daddy", so of course that's what she uses...except when she's on the job and has to be taken seriously, in that case she falls back on "Lord Bowser"
Morton (??? either close to Wendy's age or one of the youngest, I can't decide) had no previous model for what having a dad is like. He's following the other's lead on it, but Junior calls Bowser "Dad" and Ludwig calls him "Lord Bowser" and the twins call him "King Dad" and it's Confusing. So it's Big Bowser and Little Bowser. All he knows is that he loves them both very much and the mere notion of losing them is enough to make him stress out.
Iggy (around 14) doesn't need a dad, he needs supervision to avoid blowing something up. He just loves being Bowser's "kid", whatever that entails, because he gets to mess with a LOT of people. He resorts to "King Dad", but mostly because Lemmy does it, and easily switches between "Boss", "Sir", "Daddy" and "BBB" (Big Bod Bowser. Who spent several days recovering from it the first time Iggy used it).
Lemmy (around 14, same as Iggy) is here to partaaaay. He doesn't remember anything of their life before Bowser, so for him, there's always been their big lug of a "King Dad" who needs them to bail him out of messes. He's close to Junior (due to being one of the youngest) and even if he does know Junior has a different status from him, it never bothered him and he never got trouble from pranking him.
Larry (around 14, can't decide if he's younger or older than Iggy and Lemmy) has also always known Bowser, but he's a bit more self-conscious about the situation of being sort of adopted but not officially? Usually he sticks to "King Bowser", so when he slips and calls Bowser "Dad", he usually feels pretty embarrassed, even if no one bats an eye.. He was actually a bit jealous of Junior as a kid for "stealing" Bowser's attention, but he's gotten better.
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auroravictorium · 1 year
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karma (k.b.)
trick me once, trick me twice. don't you know that cash ain't the only price?
Summary: kaz gets his first piece of information about reader's whereabouts, and pekka gets his revenge; inej makes a pivotal discovery, and kaz vows to kill pekka rollins. Pairing(s): kaz x fem!reader (established relationship) Word Count: 3.8k Warnings: moderate violence [choking, breaking bones, punching, kicking], mentions of blood, mentions of killing (in the context of a threat), violent!kaz (but not as violent as he could be, y'know)
Genre: angst + action
Author's Note: another beast of a part for you guys!! i hope you all enjoy, and thank you to everyone for your kind words!! you're all so sweet i'm sobbing - promise we're gonna get a reunion between kaz and reader soooooooon! then some fluff hehe.
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"I asked around," Nina said quietly, just for Kaz to hear as they stood behind a crumbling chimney atop a bank in the Financial District. It wasn't far from where Y/N was taken, and with this view, Nina couldn't blame Jesper and Inej for losing sight of the mercenaries. In the tangle of Ketterdam streets, it was too easy for them to get away. "Only three mercenary groups based in Kerch use ether."
"Which groups?" Kaz said, peering around the chimney and glancing at his pocket watch. Pekka Rollins's closest financier should be coming up for his hourly smoke anytime now, and Kaz was growing impatient. Not that he had much patience in the past three days, most of it shot by worry and an inability to stop wondering if you were still alive. He knew Pekka Rollins; he wouldn't choose a mercenary group that wasted time.
"-And the-Are you even listening to me?" Nina said, cutting herself off and looking at him with a raised brow. Her unimpressed look softened when she saw his pursed lips: his only tell that he was somewhere else, probably thinking about Y/N. "Kaz. We're going to find her."
Kaz turned and masked his concern with a scowl. "Of course we will. That's why we're here," he said sharply. She's in this mess because of me. The thought had plagued him since Inej and Jesper told him you were gone; finding you was the only way he could fix this. He wouldn't accept any alternative. "Which group uses ether the most?"
"They call themselves the Dykhaniye." Nina closed her eyes and felt for nearby heartbeats; none, except for Kaz's. "Wylan said ether is highly flammable. As far as anyone has heard, they're the only ones able to use it successfully without any significant losses on their end. Others have tried, but..." She shook her head to clear her thoughts. She didn't want to think about what ether was doing to Y/N. Difficulty breathing, fatigue, vomiting... Nina knew Y/N was strong but didn't know how long she could survive being repeatedly poisoned.
"We need to find where they're based. That's where they'll have taken her." Kaz clutched onto his cane and fought to keep his breathing steady. Nina's wording was deliberate. No significant losses on their end. If they found Y/N, what state would she be in? Would they kill her, or would exposure to the ether do it? "I'll send word to Inej."
"She's already investigating leads." Nina held up a hand, silencing Kaz as he opened his mouth to question how, exactly, Inej could already be investigating leads if Kaz had just heard this information. Nina tilted her head toward the door and mouthed, Later.
Fine. Kaz would question why he didn't hear about this first once he was done beating the shit out of the financier. Get the information, ask Inej what she knows, and find Y/N. He snapped his mouth shut and angled his head, listening as the door to the roof creaked open. The metal hinges squeaked terribly, grating Kaz's ears and making Nina cringe. 
The door creaked shut, and Kaz heard footsteps approaching the edge of the roof. Nina raised her hands, already feeling for the man's breathing. It came to her as naturally as wind to sails, and she started to curl her fingers.
Kaz held up a finger. Wait. He glanced around the side of the chimney and watched the man next to the decorative metal fencing along the roof's edge. It was rusted, and pieces flaked off as the man lit his first cigarette, inhaled deeply, then tapped the ashes off using the fence.
He puffed away, looking over the city, and Kaz lowered his finger. 
As the man inhaled, Nina clenched her fist.
The financier choked on the smoke and dropped the cigarette from his mouth. His hands went to his throat, and he stumbled back from the metal fence. He hacked and coughed, tipping forward until he sank to his knees. As his lips turned blue, he swung his head wildly from side to side to look around for anyone who could help.
Instead, he found Kaz, who had no intentions of helping the man get back to his smoke break. Vengeance burned in those icy blue eyes, and the man gaped in fear like a fish pulled from the sea.
Kaz brought his cane down on the man's skull. The man's mouth moved like he wanted to cry out, and he slumped to the side onto the rough surface of the roof. Blood seeped down the man's temple, and a sick satisfaction ran through Kaz, fueling his wrath and setting him ablaze from the inside out. He hauled the financier back to his knees with a gloved hand on the man's collar, then started dragging him toward the teetering metal fence.
The man writhed underneath his grip, his hands going to Kaz's wrist and pulling, trying to pry his fingers away. But Kaz's grip was as unbreakable as his determination to bring Ketterdam to its knees until he found Y/N, and he had no problem destroying this man and this city if it meant making sure you were safe.
Kaz positioned the man so he hung partially over the fence, his face turned to the streets below. Nina released her grip on the man's lungs enough for him to breathe some air but not enough to scream or make much noise. The man went slack once he could gasp, but Kaz wasn't foolish enough to release him.
"I'm only going to ask this nicely once," Kaz hissed, leaning in so his voice was a terrible, dangerous whisper in the financier's ear. His eyes glinted in the setting sun, the icy blue color turning a sinister shade of orange as his irises caught the sun's fading rays. "Pekka Rollins paid off mercenaries recently. How much did it cost?"
Nina stayed behind the chimney, giving Kaz the space to work, but she peeked at the man as he gasped for air. His heart raced against his ribcage fast enough to make her want to wince, and his lungs strained with the effort to keep up with his panic. Saints, Kaz was trying to send this man into heart failure before getting any answers.
"I can't-" the man wheezed through blue lips, "tell you." His face throbbed as gravity forced his blood to his head, and his breathing trembled.
Kaz pushed the financier further over the barrier, which creaked dangerously under the man's weight. "You can, and you will," Kaz said. He jerked his chin toward the street below, filled with passersby on their way home for the evening or to the East Stave for some debauchery to relieve the workday's stress. "Or I just might lose my grip." 
"He'll kill me," the man whimpered. He coughed, and his mouth tasted like copper. "He said he'd kill me."
"I think you're worried about the wrong person." Kaz kicked the metal fence, and the segment beneath the man buckled. The financier cried out as he hung over the alleyway, supported only by Kaz's grip on his collar. He finally seemed to realize that Kaz intended to let him hurtle off the roof headfirst if he didn't get answers, and he sobbed a quiet plea for help. Nobody looked up, the sound muffled by a twitch of Nina's fingers. 
"How. Much," Kaz pressed. His arm was beginning to strain from holding the man up, and his leg was none too pleased with the exertion required to keep his weight steady on the roof's edge. 
"Two million kruge," the man sobbed. "Mercenaries wouldn't accept anything less."
Kaz tilted his head. "Is he telling the truth?" he said too calmly, the question intended for Nina. He could feel her eyes on him, on his complete indifference to the man's desperation to survive. But this paled in comparison to what Kaz wanted to do in revenge for your kidnapping. 
Nina winced, though Kaz's tone was outwardly neutral. She peered at his face. His expression bordered on bloodthirsty, and Nina swallowed. "Yes," she said softly.
Sometimes it was easy to forget how Kaz got his reputation, especially when Nina saw him around Y/N. He was always kind with her, as tender or gentle as a man with such sharp edges could be, and he never responded to her with anything other than a racing heart or caught breaths. 
Kaz loved Y/N, whether he admitted it to himself or not, and Nina's ability to hear the signs made her forget that he could be like this. And he would if it meant keeping his Crows secure, his business intact, Y/N alive and safe.
Kaz surveyed the man's face, the tears in his eyes, and his moving lips as he murmured prayers to his saints. He considered Nina's confirmation of the financier's truthfulness, yet how easy it could be to throw this man off the roof and be done with it. It would be merciful compared to what Kaz wished he could do to this man for his role in your kidnapping, enabling Pekka Rollins to hire the mercenaries.
Chances are, the financier didn't even know your name. It wasn't in his purview.
Kaz clenched his jaw. This man's death could send a message and make it clear that Kaz would only do worse until he got the information he wanted. He could cause terror, drive the Dime Lions out of hiding and force someone to yield information. It was what Pekka Rollins would do if Kaz had inflicted the magnitude of pain that Rollins had.
His brother. His childhood. His Crows. His love.
He jerked the financier upright once more, and the man let out a sob that Kaz cut off as he shoved the man away from the roof's edge. The man rolled a few feet away and stopped at the bottom of the chimney, crying and mumbling prayers into his palms. 
Kaz crossed over to him in two long strides and brought the blunt end of his cane down on the man's ribcage hard enough to fracture bone. Nina winced when she heard the crunch, pressing herself into the side of the chimney; the cold seeped from the bricks into her back, and she squeezed her eyes shut.
"Which group of mercenaries did Rollins need the money for?" Kaz growled. He moved the tip of his cane to an unbroken rib and leaned just enough weight on it that the man choked on another cry. 
"The Dykhaniye," the man wailed. He'd given up on trying to conceal information from Kaz Brekker, who knew exactly what buttons to push to get what he wanted. "I don't know what he wanted with them." He turned his head to the side and spat to clear his airway, creating a mess of blood and tears down the side of his face and on the ground.
Kaz lifted his cane, and the man immediately tried to wriggle away from him as if he could get far enough to be out of reach of the crow-headed cane. "That wasn't so difficult, was it?" Kaz said. He tossed a wad of kruge at the man's battered chest, and the bills scattered across the rooftop on a light breeze. "For your trouble."
It was mocking, but he could have done much worse. If the financier had any sense left, he would take the money and get the hell out of the city before Pekka Rollins caught wind of his men breaking under threat from Kaz Brekker.
He turned and caught Nina's gaze. Giving her a curt nod of thanks, he spun on his heel and went for the door leading off the roof. She rushed to follow, sparing a short glance at the sobbing man next to the chimney. "You were right," he said quietly. It was the closest he would get to approving of her telling Inej of her suspicions before him. "Now, we wait to hear what Inej knows."
-
Your head snapped sharply to the side as Pekka Rollins cracked his knuckles across your cheek. Pain blossomed across your jaw, throbbing hard enough to rattle your teeth, and you bit your tongue to silence your cry. Every breath you took stung your lungs, and your chest struggled to rise and fall against the pressure of your broken ribs. 
You fought to stay upright, forced to shift your knees against the hard ground without using your hands to balance. Your right knee scraped harshly against the stone floor, and the pain was worse than anything Rollins had done to you. It shot up and down your leg like a strong electric shock straight to your nerves, and it took everything you had to not let a sob of agony cross your lips. 
Breathe. Let the pain out through your lungs. You forced a trembling breath in and out, trying to imagine the pain in your body turning to mist. You thought of the low clouds that lingered in Ketterdam during the summer, how they occasionally brought cool breezes along to soothe the sweating inhabitants of the city. 
It had been days since you'd seen the sky, and thinking of Ketterdam's consistently gray skies brought you a unique mix of pain and comfort. What you would give to be under the clouds with the breeze on your skin.
If you got out of here alive, you would never again take the sight of the sky for granted.
When. When I get out of here.
"I'll ask you again," Rollins said, pacing before you like a predator cornering its prey. His hair drooped in his face, and the front of his clothes was stained dark with broth. There was a slice across his cheekbone from a shard of porcelain, and blood was smudged across his knuckles and fingertips. Yours and his. He looked nothing more than the scum he was, with any semblance of composure or pride wiped from his face as you refused to break under his fists. "Why did Brekker want those documents?"
You spat at his feet. Blood splattered the hem of his trousers and his polished shoes, but the wicked satisfaction wasn't worth a slap jerking your head to the other side. This time, a soft groan of pain slipped out. Your cheek throbbed, and you swiped your tongue across your dry lips as you panted. In. Out. Keep breathing.
You could do this. You could keep fighting long enough to make a plan. The mercenaries had long since left the two of you alone; all you had to do was get past Pekka, swipe the knife from his belt, and saw away at the rope binding your wrists. If they hadn't dragged you up a flight of chipped stone stairs and away from your cell, you would consider using a shard from the bowl you'd shattered; if you made it back down, you would be sure to pocket one. Use what you have.
Pekka leaned down and grabbed your chin, forcing you to look up at him. "You're making this harder than it needs to be, lass," he snarled. "Perhaps I should have passed you over to the Stadwatch. You've killed a fair share of my men, and murder can be a serious charge if I want it to be."
"Then do it," you spat. Blood dripped down your lip, and you considered spitting it in his face. You didn't bother licking it away, unwilling to let him see how much the metallic taste in your mouth bothered you. "Why waste your time?" 
"Because you're valuable to Brekker, stupid girl." Rollins laughed, a grating, taunting sound that sent a shiver down your spine. You flexed your fingers, wishing you could wrap them around his throat and strangle the sound out of his lungs. All of this is because Kaz poses a threat to his business. 
But there had to be more. There had to be something Kaz hadn't told you.
No. Save the doubt for later. 
Pekka kicked you in the ribs, knocking you back into the wall. Fiery pain rushed to your chest, and whatever air you'd gathered slipped past your lips in a soft wheeze. Your back ached from its collision with the stone wall. Everything hurt, and you weren't sure you could stand.
A bloody cough slipped past your lips, and tears welled up in your swollen eyes. You wished you could wipe them away, avoid showing Pekka Rollins how weak you were feeling. But you were powerless to stop them, and you had no choice but to lean your head back against the stones and squeeze your eyes shut. Stop crying. Breathe.
Breathing could only get you so far.
Pekka turned and slammed his fist against the heavy oak door keeping you inside this room with him. Inside this damn warehouse, from what you'd gathered on your straggling, painful walk up from your cell. You wished you had the strength to attack Pekka while his back was turned, but you could only bring yourself to open your eyes as the door opened and two of the mercenaries entered.
Sergei and Fjerdan Asshole. Just the people you wanted to see.
You glowered at them as they jerked you to your feet, and Sergei only gave you an unpleasant smirk. Another cough bubbled up in your chest as the mercenaries hauled you toward the door, filling your mouth with blood. You glared at Pekka Rollins as you passed him, and he looked back at you smugly.
"I can't wait until Brekker sees what I've done to you," he drawled, following you to the office door. "His rage will make it even more satisfying when I kill him."
When I kill him.
Something hot and red and destructive washed over you. Every ounce of pain in your body seemed to temporarily numb, yielding to the pure wrath burning beneath your skin. You would bear as much pain as Pekka Rollins gave you, the bruises and cuts and broken bones. But you would make sure there was nothing left of him, the Dime Lions, or Ketterdam if he went after Kaz; losing Kaz was a pain you refused to bear.
You looked over your shoulder at Rollins, piercing him with a simmering glare that would have made anyone else shrink back. "You have a spot of blood on your tie," you snarled. Then, you spat your mouthful of blood in his face. 
Rollins reeled back with a roar of outrage, wiping away the blood but only succeeding in smearing it through his beard. A murderous look filled his eyes, but he didn't have enough time to act on it before the mercenaries shoved you out of the office and toward the dark stairs leading to the warehouse basement.
-
Inej darted up the stairs to Kaz's office, panting and shoving past meandering Dregs coming out of their room for an early breakfast. She swung around the corner and pushed open Kaz's door, nearly hitting Jesper. He jumped out of the way and surveyed her disheveled state, opening his mouth to, presumably, ask what happened.
She dropped a stack of papers on Kaz's desk and leaned against the chair across from his to catch her breath. "Straight from the office of Pekka Rollins," she gasped, holding her side. "The Dykhaniye are based in Zierfoort. They own every warehouse complex in the city as a front for their operations. That's where they took her."
Kaz immediately shoved his map to the side and started flipping through the papers, glancing up at Inej. "How? I told you not to risk it." He jerked a transaction list free from the stack, and his icy eyes scanned it for any precise information. Which warehouse, which side of the city, anything that might expedite their search for Y/N. "Jesper, the carriage. Now."
"On it, Boss." Jesper gently squeezed Inej's shoulder on his way out. She squeezed his wrist in thanks. "Good job," he whispered. He left the office, and his thundering footsteps rattled the floorboards as he moved down the stairs.
"Wylan staged a distraction. The grunts around the perimeter of the Emerald Palace had to go investigate an explosion on one of their ships in Fourth Harbor." Inej straightened up and searched Kaz's face. "I shouldn't have gone without letting you know, but she's my friend, Kaz. I can't sit idly knowing I could have done something to stop this."
"There was nothing you could have done," Kaz said quietly. He stood and rolled the papers up, stuffing them in the inner pocket of his coat. He met Inej's gaze, and she was relieved to find no anger there. None directed at her, anyway. "Pekka had this plotted out for months. They found servant stairwells that we thought were blocked off, and he hired the best mercenaries that kruge could buy."
Kaz didn't blame Inej or Jesper. He blamed himself entirely. I was the one who put her at risk. I let her become my weakness, and she's paying the price. He grabbed his cane and a pistol from some hidden spot beneath his desk and spun the latter in his fingers.
Inej examined Kaz's face, searching for any hint of a contradiction to his words. When she found none, her shoulders loosened. "I'll get Nina and Matthias. Wylan is already downstairs." 
"Matthias and Wylan stay. They'll watch over the Club and the Slat until we return." Kaz grabbed his hat, stared at it for a moment, then put it back down. You were the last to wear it when you used it as a disguise to get him breakfast on his birthday. It reminded him too strongly of you, of his failure to say what he longed to say before the bank job. 
You expressed your love for him so often and so carefully that he wondered why you woke up every day and still chose him, when he could barely tell you that he cared without choking on his past. Would you still choose him when all of this was said and done? Would you realize that he was at fault for this, that he was nothing more than a shell of a man, too haunted, too broken, too bruised, who brought pain to anyone who dared to get close?
Kaz blinked back to the present, pulling himself from the color of your eyes, the memories of his fingers clasping your favorite necklace around your neck. "Let's go," he said quietly, ignoring Inej's concerned look. She'd probably said his name a few times. He didn't care. "It's a day's trip to Zierfoort."
And he stalked out of the office, leaning heavily on his cane and pondering how it would feel to finally kill Pekka Rollins.
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