#hopefully I don’t scar someone for life w these

[letswonderspirit]

Some doodles 8^]

[cursedonyx]

Okay so I just read your Professor Sharp and Garlick fic and I honestly can’t tell you how much I loved it. So I was wondering if you’d be interesting in writing any additional Professor Sharp smut.

It could be with Garlick again or perhaps someone outside of Hogwarts (like someone who works at Hogsmeade or the Ministry) or even a muggle if you wanted to go that route. Obviously I’m terrible at making decisions so feel free to pick whatever scenario intrigues you the most!

As far as the details of their relationship I guess it depends on the scenario but I wouldn’t mind something sort of similar to your last fic where they’ve at least known each other for a while and can call themselves friends who are in love with each other (I also wouldn’t mind a tiny bit of jealousy being sprinkled in somehow if that’s not too many things all in one🙈).

Also please don’t feel pressured to write this if it’s not particularly igniting anything for you! I love your writing so much so thank you for even just reading this!💕

Thank you for the request, and sorry it took longer than I thought it would, life can be a real sod sometimes!

I decided to use this as an excuse to continue the Sharp/Garlick fic of before, because why the hell not? Hope it’s what you wanted 💚

Word Count – 2.7k

Warnings – Smut (MDNI 🔞) Jealousy, PiV, Fingering, On the Desk

It had been almost a week since Aesop had allowed himself a single night of indulgence with the fire-haired enchantress that had captured his mind, body and soul with a single look. He could almost pinpoint when he had first become truly entranced with the young and beautiful Mirabel Garlick, the moment she had returned to Hogwarts as no longer a student, but a professor, and his curiosity with her bloomed into obsession.

The years of secret, seemingly mutual pining had paid off, for they had finally ended up tangled in the sheets together after a night of drinking with their colleagues, and everything about it had been perfect. Well, it would have been, were it not for the fact she’d been gone by the time he woke up, leaving nothing but single, long red hair on his pillow and an ache in his cock to convince him it hadn’t all been a dream.

The following days meandering through the quiet halls of Hogwarts reminded him somewhat of a Confundus Charm. When he saw her in the corridors or at meals, she was as cordial and polite and pleasant as she’d ever been, offering wide, warm smiles and engaging him in spirited talk, just as she did with the other professors. Aesop frowned. Surely there would have been some change? Had he really disappointed her so severely she wished to pretend nothing had happened between them?

He elected to remain silent on the matter. If Mirabel wanted to act like they hadn’t done utterly sinful things to each other, then that was fine. He had the memories, at least. She was half his age, and deserved better than a crippled, scarred former Auror. He would be cordial to her, and hope his infatuation didn’t drive him to do something stupid.

He made his way to Hogsmeade, his boots crunching in fresh snow, hoping his order of rare potion ingredients had arrived at J. Pippin’s at last. An afternoon of sorting out his stores would hopefully keep his mind off the shape Mirabel’s breasts made when he slammed his cock into her.

Unfortunately, Mirabel and her breasts remained firmly at the forefront of his mind, to the point where the thoughts of her actually seemed to summon her into being as Aesop rounded the corner and saw her in the flesh just outside of Spintwitches, holding a small, wicker basket, smiling and laughing and stroking her plaits and talking to another man.

Aesop froze, the cold air nipping his cheeks as a searing fury rushed through his torso. He knew that man, the gangly little fuckwit barely four years out of Hogwarts, and if the rumours were anything to go by, firmly in the pocket of Rookwood’s notorious little gang. And he was simpering at Mirabel, his gap-toothed grin wide, his weak attempt at flirting so painfully obvious it made Aesop want to cringe.

Or curse him into oblivion.

His ingredients could wait. Aesop strode through the crowd, coming up behind Mirabel, his glower searing over her shoulder and landing directly on the pimply-faced youth, watching with satisfaction as his gawky smile faded, his wandering eyes growing wide as he stumbled back a step.

“Professor Sharp!” he gasped, and Mirabel turned, fluttering her eyelashes as she saw how close he was. “H-how nice to see you-“

“Hop it,” Aesop advised. The aspiring Ashwinder bolted almost before the second word was out of his mouth. With a satisfied huff, he glanced down at Mirabel, and his breath caught when he realised just how close they were. Neither moved away.

“I see you still strike fear into the hearts of your former students,” she said, softly, ducking her head and fiddling with her basket.

“I expect that is because that particular former student is well on his way to becoming a Dark Wizard,” Aesop muttered. He’d have to notify his former colleagues in the Auror office, especially if the little gyp was sniffing around Mirabel. He raised a hand, hesitated, then laid it on her shoulder. “Allow me to escort you back to the castle.”

“I’d like that,” Mirabel said, with a shy smile. She rested a hand on his arm, allowing him to lead the way, his scowl clearing a path through the crowd more effectively than Bombarda.

Walking the path back to the castle, he was acutely aware of the gentle weight of her hand on his forearm, sliding around to rest in the crook of his elbow, their breath misting before them. He kept his silence, longing to say something to turn the steadily solidifying air between them into something light and jovial, but he’d never been any good at that. And besides, her stalwart refusal to mention their drunken escapade made it clear to him she’d thought it a mistake.

It irritated him. This was the problem with obsessing over someone so young. They never said what was on their mind. He should move on, and stop thinking about the way her skin was a gentle peach, the way the shape of her legs showed even through her robes as she walked, the way her breasts bounced with each step…

And she’d been talking to another man. Not a professor, not even a friend, just some oik she used to know. He glowered as they entered the castle, her hand sliding off his arm as he gave her a curt nod and moved off in the direction of his office.

She followed.

Mirabel followed him all the way to his office, her light footsteps scuffing over the stone floor. Merlin, even the sound of her footsteps was enchanting to him, reminding him how light she was, how easy it was to pick her up to manhandle her, to throw her down to the bed and-

Aesop clenched his jaw. He shouldn’t be thinking like this, not at all!

But then… she wasn’t fragile. She was stronger than she looked, if the strength of her grip on his cock was anything to go by…

He cursed under his breath, shouldering into his office. He swore again when he realised he’d completely forgotten to pick up his rare ingredients. He lowered himself to sit behind his desk, wondering if Pippin would be kind enough to send them to the castle by urgent owl.

“Aesop?”

Mirabel hovered before the desk, the basket held before her legs, the V her arms made emphasising the swell of her breasts, pushing them together. “Is something wrong?”

He almost laughed. Yes, a great many things were wrong, chief of which was her bloody refusal to even acknowledge they’d slept together! But he couldn’t tell her that. If he was to have any chance of lying with her again, like he craved, he couldn’t afford to frighten her away.

But he was still pissed off.

“You should know better,” he said, firmly. “Rookwood’s little gang are notorious, and it’s not safe to associate with any of them.”

Mirabel raised her brows.

“Aesop, I’m not a student anymore,” she said, defensively. “I knew him from when we were both pupils here, he just wanted to say hello. We used to study together in the library on Wednesdays.”

“Yes, I’m sure a hello was the only thing on his mind,” Aesop clenched his jaw as Mirabel placed her basket on the desk and put her hands on her hips, emphasising their curves and pulling the material of her robes taut across her belly. He tried very hard not to look. “As a teacher of this school, it’s even more important that you’re not seen to be… fraternising with dangerous criminals.”

She frowned. “I wasn’t fraternising,” she said. “I was just being friendly. I hope you don’t think you have to watch my back all the time, I’m quite capable of making my own decisions and dealing with whatever consequences stem from them.”

A chill shivered over his shoulders, and he rose, striding to her and taking her face in his hands. Her skin was soft and warm and smooth, nothing like the rough stubble that coated his coarse skin.

“I won’t allow it,” he rumbled. “Mirabel, you must be more careful. If something happened to you…”

“I don’t need you looking out for me,” she whispered, her hands rising to his.

Aesop took a breath. Another denial, another refusal. It hurt more than he cared to admit, more than a single night of passion warranted. He had to hear her say it properly, to move on.

“I want to look out for you,” he said, brushing his thumbs over her cheeks. “Mirabel… I understand if you don’t want me, that night in Hogsmeade was… well. But I understand if you feel it was a mistake.”

Her slender brows drew together. “Mistake? Aesop, I don’t think that at all.”

He paused. A mixed signal. He didn’t like mixed signals. “You haven’t said a word about it,” he said. “You’ve been acting like nothing changed.”

“I didn’t think anything had,” she said, taking his hands from her face and slowly lowering them, his fingers drifting along her neck. “My feelings for you haven’t changed, why should my behaviour? I rather thought you believed it was a mistake, you’ve barely said three words to me since.”

He blinked. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying I still want you,” she whispered, lowering his hands to her breasts, small and firm under her winter robes. “I still want to be with you. You’ve cast a spell on me, Professor, and I have no desire to escape its bonds.”

Her words sent a bolt of electricity through him, stiffening his spine and cock simultaneously. Hearing her call him Professor in that soft voice of hers, the mention of bonds conjuring the image of silken ropes around her velvety wrists in a candlelit chamber, the fact that she still wanted him, despite his fears. There was no butterbeer to smooth the way this time, no, they were both stone cold sober, and by the flush blooming over her throat as he cupped her breasts, she was as invested in what was to come next as he was.

He tucked a hand around her waist, the other winding under her plaits to cup the back of her neck, drawing her close to him. Her lips were an inch away from his own, and he hesitated, the old fears bounding through his mind. Relationships between the staff was frowned upon, and if Phineas caught wind of any affiliation other than one that was strictly professional… besides, she was too young, he was too old, she was too beautiful, he was too gruff, she was lithe and supple and perfect and deserving of more, he was in his forties and crippled and scarred and…

Mirabel closed the distance, sealing her plump lips to his with a gentle sigh. Aesop responded without thought, kissing her fiercely as she wound her arms around his neck, relishing the softness of her lips, the gentle, rose-scented breath that rushed over his tongue. He gripped the back of her robes, his hand flattening against the small of her back, and the temptation to tear them from her form was almost overwhelming, each of her soft moans slipping between her lips, into his ears and straight down to his cock, throbbing against his leg.

He pushed her back against the desk, her tongue flicking out to run over his as he lifted her onto it, her legs parting for him, rising to wrap around his waist and tugging him against her. He repressed a growl with difficulty, but a low sound rumbled in his chest all the same, and Mirabel sighed, sinking against him.

“I love it when you do that, Aesop,” she said, batting her eyelashes at him, a wicked smirk on her lips. “You have no idea what it does to me.”

He did growl this time, and he didn’t think he could have held it in if he tried. He groped for her robes as her hands slid over the buttons of his waistcoat, the cold air of his office nipping at his skin as his waistcoat and then shirt came undone under her nimble fingers. He slid her robes up over her slender thighs as she brushed her fingers over his chest, tracing the dark hair spread over his torso. Aesop returned the favour, prying apart the buttons at the top of her robes, revealing the small peaks of her marbled breasts, ducking his head to take one of the rosebuds into his mouth.

Mirabel moaned, the sound music to his ears as he wound his tongue around her nipple, savouring the sweetness of her flesh. Her hands gripped his hair, encouraging him, and with a wicked grin, he denied her, raising his head to kiss her again, his hand sliding along her slender thigh to dance over the tight curls hidden between them. She whimpered, tilting her hips up to his hand.

“Aesop…” she whined, writhing. “Please touch me.”

The keening words cut through him, flaying his desire open and leaving nothing but hunger for her. It was all he could do to restrain himself from the sinful sounds she made as he sank his fingers into her, pressing his thumb to her most sensitive parts. Mirabel whined, grasping handfuls of his coat as she rutted herself against his hand, each drawn breath expulsed in a sharp gasp.

It was a struggle to keep his focus as she whimpered and wailed against his movements, his fingers curling up to rub over the most sensitive parts of her, buried deep in the core of her being. Her hands slid down to his belt, fumbling with the fastening as he attended to her, her face pressed to his shoulder, her luscious hair coming undone from its plaits as she drew his cock out, her slender fingers gliding along him and making him shudder.

With a yelp, Mirabel pushed his hands away, the force of it enough to make him stagger back a pace. A frown crossed his brow as she gazed up at him, her expression wild. She leaned back on the desk, parting her legs further and gracing him with a full view of her sex, her parted lips and glimmering green eyes failing to draw his gaze away.

“Come on in,” she purred.

He launched forward and slammed into her, the force of it pushing her back onto the desk. She let out a cry of passion, her hands grasping at his back as she hooked her legs around him, muffling her voice against his shoulder. Aesop’s mind scattered as he was enveloped in fire, gasping some himself as she tightened her walls around him. He gripped the desk, a hand braced against her back as she writhed, a heat condensing in his abdomen as his hips flexed faster of their own accord.

Shit, not yet, not yet!

With a low growl, he drew back from her, his cock drenched, ignoring her whine of protest. He tugged her forward and turned her around, bending her over the desk, yanking her robes up to expose the perfect peach of her arse. He slid back into her, her high-pitched whimper music to his ears, pressing his chest to her back as he thrust into her repeatedly, his teeth at her neck, one hand rising to wrap gently around her throat. His other hand found hers as she began to gasp and cry out in earnest, her legs taut against his, her arse shaking with each merciless pound of his cock.

Aesop’s release was sudden and breathtaking, pitching him forward to crash against her back with an almost startled yelp as she clenched around him, draining him dry. He took a moment to catch his breath, each ragged inhale taking in the scent and taste of her luxurious hair, dishevelled and coming loose from its plaits. He raised his head, seeing her cheek pressed to his desk, her eyes half-lidded and clouded with bliss, a line of drool sliding from her lips to pool on his paperwork.

“Aesop…” she murmured. “I-if this is what it’s going to be like all the time…”

He managed a low laugh. “I hope so, Mirabel.” He pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek, unwilling to withdraw from her just yet. “But next time, let’s find somewhere a bit more comfortable.”

[prismadog]

I wrote another thing. Not great, again, but not bad. It's also gotten a bit long so I'm gonna have to do this in parts otherwise you'll end up reading a fic that's like several "do you love the color of the sky" posts combined.

So, there's at least going to be two parts to this, maybe three if part 2 gets too long, but hopefully it won't.

I should probably also say that this is another Dragon Mom Grian au fic, idk where in the timeline it takes place exactly, but who cares. I was gonna do another Babysitting the Tegg fic but decided to do this one instead. then I'll work on part 2 and maybe something for a new au idea I had where Hermitcraft Grian and 3rd Life Grian swap places.

Making a Nest - Part 1

There’s something wrong with Grian.

All of Boatem could see it. 

He’s quiet, reserved. He’s distracted, absent from any present conversation. He wanders around his cave or he stays cooped up in his house. He doesn’t really go out, not even to prank people.

The only time he ever really seems relatively close to his usual self is when he’s coming to his friends’ rescues or stalking a visitor to the village. But even then, it just isn’t the same.

Grian just isn’t himself.

It is…worrying…to say the least.

So.

So four out of five of the Boatem Crew hold a meeting, a secret meeting, one that doesn’t include their favorite gremlin.

They meet up in Pearl’s mountain basement - Pearl, Scar, Mumbo, and Impulse. Pearl had set up a little area away from the entrance ahead of time, and brought out drinks and snacks - milk and cookies - when the others arrived.

“So…” she starts, not really sure what to say, “Uh, we all know why we’re here, right?”

“Because Grian isn’t Grian?” Mumbo asks.

She nods. “He’s been quiet, more quiet than I’ve ever seen him.”

“I noticed that he’s not making as much progress on his base,” Impulse says. “I thought it was burnout at first but when I talked to him, he just seemed…distant.”

“I don’t think he’s been sleeping much. I’ve seen him from the Swaggon just wanderin around and carrying the egg,” Scar says through a mouthful of cookie. “Even in the middle of the night.”

“He has been carrying it around a lot, and talking to it sometimes,” Mumbo agrees. “I expected that after tag ended, but uh, he’s not as chipper as he was. He’s just, well like Pearl said, quiet.”

“Do we know why he’s like this?” Impulse asks.

They all look at each other, just as clueless as the next.

“Well, it’s not burnout,” Impulse says. “That much I know from when I talked to him.”

“I tried talking to him the other day when he was stocking the train but he didn’t really say much,” Pearl says. “I wanted to do a prank with him but he said he “wasn’t up for it”. That’s weird in of itself so I asked if he was feeling alright and he just shrugged.”

“I thought that too! He almost flew into one of my houses a few days ago.” Mumbo munches on a cookie. “I asked him if he was all right and he just brushed me off.”

Scar hums, taking another cookie for himself. “It’s gotta have something to do with the egg.” He mutters ‘oh shoot’ when drops the cookie in his glass of milk. “Maybe if we all go over and ask, he’ll tell us what’s wrong?” He fishes the drowned cookie out of his glass and shoves the whole thing in his mouth before it falls apart.

“Is that the right thing to do? What if he shuts down on us?”

“If talking to him one on one didn’t work, then we need to go together,” Scar tells Impulse. “Unless we want to ask someone else to talk to him?”

“That’s an idea, I’m sure Xisuma wouldn’t mind talking to him,” Mumbo says, “but maybe we try fixing this ourselves first?”

“Should we go over now?”

Pearl sets down her glass of milk and stands. “Let’s do it and do it now before we chicken out.”

The other three members stand as well and head out of Pearl’s base, discussing quietly on how to approach Grian once they find him.

They still don’t really have a plan when they come across him in his cave, after several minutes of searching.

Grian is sitting near the cave wall on top of one of his buildings - the Magical Menagerie. He has his arms folded on top of the dragon egg in his lap and his eyes closed. His wings, now a dark grey with spots of violet, drape over the tiles of the roof.

“Hey, Grian,” Pearl calls out, landing several feet away. “You awake?”

His dark eyes blink open to look at her. “Yeah,” he replies quietly.

“Mind if we join you?” He only gives her a shrug in response - as good an answer as any, she supposes. She turns towards the alley below, “Hey, guys, up here!”

Seconds later, Impulse joins her on the roof, then Scar who barely misses the glass ceiling, and then Mumbo who stumbles to a landing and almost falls back off. He would have too if Pearl and Impulse didn’t grab his arms.

“So what’s up?” Grian asks, still sitting in his spot. He sounds, and looks, tired.

The rest of the crew looks at each other for a long moment, then Scar steps forward. 

“Well, Grian, glad you asked. We’ve been having a meeting - I know, I know, we didn’t invite you, but there’s a very good reason for that - it was about you. You see, my fine feathered friend, we’ve been worried about you.”

“O…kay?” 

“You’ve been a bit off, Grian,” Impulse says. “For a while now I’d say.”

“You also seem tired, mate. And we’re just, uh, really worried.”

Grian’s wings shift a bit behind him, the feathers fluffing up the smallest amount. “I’m fine, guys,” he says though his voice is low and almost scratchy, as if he’s been sick or hasn’t been talking much. “Maybe a bit tired but I’m fine.”

Pearl takes a step forward, her moth wings unfolding partially behind her, “You’re not fine!” she says, her voice louder than normal but not shouting. “You’re not fine one little bit. You’re not talking to us, you brush us off when we try to ask you what’s wrong, Scar’s seen you up at all hours of the night, Mumbo says you almost flew into his houses, and you don’t want to do any pranks with me.

“We’re really worried, Grian, and we just want to know what’s wrong,” her voice quiets as she says this.

“Please just tell us what’s wrong,” Mumbo says.

“Whatever’s bothering you, we can help,” Impulse says, “We’ll do everything in our power to help you fix whatever’s wrong.”

“Just talk to us, Grian. Please?” Scar asks.

The hermit looks away, at the roof maybe, and his arms encircle the egg, hugging it close to his chest. “I…I don’t know,” he mumbles. “Nothing’s really wrong…exactly…everything’s going well - the train’s making sales, I finished the night sky, I made the buildings, and I’m even starting to fill them.” 

The dark wings shiver behind him and cover his shoulders, almost like a cape. “Everything’s progressing wonderfully,” his voice is still quiet, “Everything’s going great.”

“But?” Impulse asks gently.

He hugs the egg tighter, his wings shift to cover his sides. He doesn’t look at them, at his friends, for a long long moment. “It should’ve hatched by now,” his voice is barely a whisper, barely a breath of air.

The cave is silent again, aside from the mobs that fill the Menagerie of course. 

“Uh, mate, you do know it’s just a, uh, an item right?”

“Mumbo, you can’t say that,” Pearl says. They all know how Grian’s been with the egg, all motherly and protective of it since he got it. They all know that it’s not exactly a normal reaction from their friend, but they can’t just say that or that the dragon egg is just another item of their world, even though it is.

“It’s not,” Grian says over the top of Pearl’s voice. “It’s not just an item,” he says this with absolute certainty, dark eyes almost glaring at the redstoner. “It’s not just an item, it’s not just a trophy, it’s not just a decoration, it’s not just an achievement to be made.” His wings flare slightly, the feathers puffing up. “It is an egg, Mumbo, and it’s supposed to hatch. Eggs are supposed to hatch - the dragon egg is no different.”

Silence.

Absolute silence.

Mumbo chuckles nervously. “R-right, my bad. You’re right.”

Grian stares him down for an uncomfortably long minute, then huffs and turns to look away from everyone. “Of course I am,” he mutters.

“Uh, have you tried making a nest?” Impulse asks. “Birds usually make nests, right?”

At that comment, the hermit practically deflates, and his voice is quiet again, “I tried but I’m no good. They all turn out terrible. I tried making them like birds do but they fell apart. I tried using blankets and pillows but that fell apart too.” He sighs, “no matter what I try, it ends up falling apart and feeling cold and boring and lonely anyway.”

“Maybe we could help?” Scar asks.

“There’s no point,” he mutters, “it’s impossible.” He pulls his wings closer, wrapping them around his body and almost completely blocking the other Boatem crew members from view.

“Well, that sounds like a challenge if I’ve ever heard one,” Pearl says. “If we can break bedrock, then we can build a nest that won’t fall apart or look boring.”

There’s a scoff from behind the dark wings. “Good luck,” Grian mutters with a hint of bitterness in his tone.

“C’mon, boys, we’ve got work to do.” She leaps off the roof and soars away, straight out of the cave.

“We’ll see ya later, G!” Scar follows after Pearl.

Impulse gives him a quiet, “We can figure this out,” and at the same time, Mumbo tells him, “You’ll be chuffed to bits when we do,” and they both drop off the roof and fly after Pearl and Scar.

Grian just sighs heavily once they’re gone. He doesn’t believe them.

*

[phoenixyfriend]

ok. karin vs anakin's genome being 50% the Force. go

Jesus fuck, okay. Uh, fair warning, I know very little about this subject, so it’s 90% bullshit. I am in no way qualified to talk about biology past the high school level.

Anakin's sixteen. He's part of a set of Jedi assigned to a weird mission regarding making contact with an isolated planet of near-humans with superpowers but no space travel. He doesn’t really have a Job here and now, he’s just there as Obi-Wan’s plus-one. There's an underlying plot about Sidious trying to acquire people from Ninja Land, but none of the Jedi are fully aware of it. Mostly they're distracted by all the ninjas and their bitching.

They call it the Shinobi Planet, because nobody can agree on a name for the planet when they ask and the last major international alliance was named after the shinobi profession, right? Good enough, you can change it later when you idiots can agree on literally anything, oh my god. The Samurai are very offended and it's a whole thing.

Anakin wanders a lot. He runs into various strange people and is mostly polite because, listen, half his friends are distinctly not human. When your immediate circle includes nautolans and besalisks and twi’leks and whatever the fuck Yoda is, you’re not gonna blink at a Hoshigaki or... uh... okay that kid just turned into a giant fox, is anybody gonna--no? That’s normal? Just him? Cool, cool, cool.

There’s a kage summit involved in the negotiations going on. IDK what’s being negotiated, probably something to get the ninjas to set up a singular spaceport so there’s somewhere to land WITHOUT ships being regularly shot down by village defense systems powered by that massive flaming purple skeleton warrior or the girl who punched down a mountain or the.. the literal desert? There’s a guy that can control the desert? Is there any way of keeping him away from Anakin?

(Gaara’s tickled pink that the reason someone wants to stay away from him has nothing to do with fear or respect for authority, and everything to do with ‘he is also from the desert and fucking hates it, so he’s staying away from the sand powers,’ because it’s very novel and kind of funny.)

ANYWAY where was I. Uh. Right, kage summit, lots of villages, they invite smaller villages to pitch in, but nobody ever ever ever wants Orochimaru anywhere near this situation, for hopefully obvious reasons, so Otogakure sends Karin.

Really, who else was it gonna be? Suigetsu? You want Suigetsu representing you on an interstellar political field? You want Juugo before he’s stabilized? You want Sasuke, master of ruining kage summits? You want these idiots representing you at the big kids’ table?

They send Karin. She’s a bitch with a temper, but at least she’s not as big of a political risk as... literally anyone else from the snakepit.

Anyway, Anakin wanders around, meeting people, trying foods, showing off when asked for demonstrations. He doesn’t have an Entire Protocol Droid, but he did cobble together a little floating helper that can do translations for him. Assume all translations are accurate and being done by the little helper bot. Bot’s name is G1-0T. Anakin calls it Glot.

He runs into Karin at one point, who’s not super into the whole situation, but at least Anakin’s interesting. She’s not interested in him, because he’s sixteen and she’s like... mid-twenties. And his hair is stupid. But! All these force-sensitive people feel weird to her, because sensor stuff, and it’s not chakra but it’s... something. Anakin is, of course, the weirdest.

(There are non-sensitives in the envoy, so she knows it’s not just a space thing.)

She strikes up a conversation about it, because hey, she hasn’t made it this far to not lean into... you know, being the kind of person who barges ahead with Weird Questions that might lead into fun science stuff.

Anakin is like. Well. This woman’s very strange, but it’s not like there’s anything against talking about midichlorians to random people. It’s easy enough to look up in the core. Not everyone knows about them, but it’s not a secret or anything.

“Wow,” Karin says, though not in so many words, “that sounds incredibly strange, and actually a lot like it functions completely differently from chakra, though maybe it intersects with nature chakra somehow. Can I take a blood sample?”

Anakin doesn’t want to give a blood sample to a stranger. Karin isn’t stupid enough to try to steal one. She’s seen what this Force Stuff can do, and this kid’s got a lot of it. She hasn’t got enough information on hand about it to know if he’d notice.

“How about I let you look at the blood of a guy that can turn into water?” Karin asks, because she’s not going to let him look at her blood. “I’ve got it with me.”

“...why?” Anakin asks, reasonably disturbed.

“He owes me,” she says, and does not elaborate.

“What, there’s nothing weird about your blood to share?” Anakin demands, like the ornery little bastard he is.

“People took my blood against my will for over a decade,” Karin says, with the kind of smile that threatens a stabbing. This is not secret information. Her healing factor is in the bingo book. Plenty of people still want her dead. “Nobody gets my blood except me.”

Anakin has no idea what to do with that answer. Most people wouldn’t know what to do with that answer. It’s not exactly a standard answer.

“So there is something weird about your--e chu ta what the fuck are those scars?”

Karin looks at her arm. She looks back at him. She raises an eyebrow.

“What do you think they are?”

He stares a little longer, and then very carefully does not say anything as she pushes her sleeve back down.

“So can I look at your blood?” she asks again.

“Uh--”

“You can look at mine under a microscope,” she wheedles. “You can’t take any, though.”

Anakin... does eventually agree. Eventually.

-----------

There is a very angry redhead yelling at a machine, and Anakin does not know what to do.

“Is something wr--”

“What the fuck is your blood?” she demands. “It’s glowing in ultraviolet. It burned the dye up. I tried to sequence your genome--”

“Woah, I did not agree to that.”

“--and look at this. Look at this!”

“I don’t know how to read your graphs. None of this is a language I know.”

“It’s garbage,” she hisses at him. Glot takes a few moments to process it. “Look at this. This is supposed to--fuck, where’s the Jiraiya file, he’s standard--this is what it’s supposed to look like for most humans with chakra. And this is a civilian, and a few bloodline users--”

“Do you just carry these around with you?”

“Shut up, you don’t exist. You have--you have more in common with summons than people. I ran a blood test on one of your human diplomats, the ones that aren’t monks--”

“When did they agree to that?”

“They didn’t, I’m just sneaky.”

“I should tell Obi-W--”

“STAY THERE, I’M NOT DONE YELLING YET. Do you see this? Do you see this shit? This is the one and only time I’ve managed to perform any kind of analysis on a bijuu. They don’t usually have blood. Shukaku is sand. Matatabi is literally just fire. This was almost impossible to make happen, but I did it because I’m a dedicated biomedical resea--”

“Because you’re unhinged.”

“--rcher, and you know what? You know what I’ve found?”

“What?”

“Your blood looks like you’re half demon,” she says, grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking, a little wild-eyed and clearly pissed at him. “Half of it’s human! Half of it looks like the non-physical chakra manifestations that were torn-apart remnants of a godlike demon. The fuckers can’t die. They also can’t breed. They don’t have reproductive organs! This isn’t just demon-tainted like a jinchuuriki, I’ve got that analyzed--”

“Why?”

“Because my cousin’s a moron, don’t change the subject. You--you shouldn’t exist. Your blood is stupid. Fuck, is this what I’d find if I analyzed the Sage of the Six Paths?”

“The what?”

She ignores him, frowning at papers. “Is--I need to call Haruno, she might still have some of Kaguya’s blood dried on her old gloves from the war, I know she kept those as a souvenir from the whole ‘punched a god’ thing.”

“I’m sorry, the what?”

“There was a thing a few years back, godlike alien demon princess who got sealed into a moon by her sons a thousand years ago, but her immortal sentient goo child brought her back with a giant tree that consumed all the tailed beasts-the flaming fox you saw earlier is one of them--and then used a giant eyeball to reflect off the moon to put everyone in a hallucination at the same time so she could eat our life-forces,” Karin dismisses. “It’s not important.”

“There is--what?”

Jedi see many things. Many of those things are very strange.

This is a little much even for Anakin.

“It’s over, if you want the actual details, talk to my idiot cousin,” she huffs. “But now I need to run comparisons between the actual nonsense that is your entire existence and the actual nonsense that is my cousin’s existence, and maybe Sasuke’s... fuck this is going to be a mess, I’m going to have to cross-reference all the clans with bloodlines we know are derived from Kaguya, she’s the only angle we have on gods like that, unless... maybe there’s still some black Zetsu goo somewhere... Orochimaru must have kept a sample...”

“Uh, can I--can I go? I’m not comfortable here.”

“I need to find Naruto so he can call the Sage of the Six Paths out of the afterlife so I can see if I can get blood from a ghost to compare to yours.”

[theoreticslut]

Can I request a nsfw headcannon 💋 of George’s reaction to his shy and inexperienced girlfriend being surprisingly kinky and confident in bed?

• NSFW THEMES !!

Hi babes, of course you can!! Thank you so much for the request. I’m so sorry it’s taken me forever to get this out for you 🥺 hopefully you’ll still like it!! 💗

you can also check out this other headcanon that your idea prompted! This request seriously gave me so many ideas 😉💗

Shy in public, but kinky in bed w/ George

-he’s honestly super impressed

-definitely gives a quirk of his brow and a smirk when he realizes

-LOVES to tease you about it in public

-“they all see you as this innocent angel, but we both know otherwise, don’t we?”

-“wonder what they’d think if they heard what you were begging for last night.”

-gets this MASSIVE shit-eating grin whenever someone makes a comment about how vanilla you seem

-or if someone happens to ask what your sex life is like??

-bc like George seems pretty kinky and you, you know, don’t

-he can’t help but snort and say something like “it’s lovely” in a really cocky tone with a wink

-absolutely loves how willing you are to experiment though

-you’re frequently trying new positions/toys/kinks

-a lot of which are recommended by you but he high key loves it!

-loves knowing thats he’s the only one who knows about & gets to see this side of you

-it also boosts his ego when he can tell you’re enjoying it!

-George literally adores sex with you bc it’s always different

-should be noted that even though you two definitely get into some kinky shit, he is more than happy to take control & just have really soft/romantic sex

-flips between praise and degradation a TON

-you’ve definitely scarred Fred on more than one occasion...

-one time you forgot to silence the room so he heard everything

-was more than shocked at some of the things he heard

-another time you forgot to lock the door but you silenced the room so he thought george was just hanging out

-walked into you teasing George’s cock while he was tied up

-safe to say he paled pretty drastically and turned right the fuck around

-once he recovers from it all though he teases you even more than George does

-which is saying something!!!

-bc George literally loves watching you squirm when he whispers dirty and degrading things into your ear in public

-if he’s around & someone mentions how vanilla you seem he is sure to make a comment

-“seems it, doesn’t she?”

-“ooh I wouldn’t bet on it, mate.”

-“it’s always the innocent ones that are the least innocent.”

-George usually has to smack him before he’ll stop the teasing

-even though George likes teasing you he’s still protective over you

-kinda really likes that you’ve got this ‘secret’ personality

-also loves that no one ever suspects it either

-so he does his damnedest to keep it that way

-just amazed at you in general & wouldn’t change a thing

[red-doll-face]

Here is a request for slashers if they're open. My brain does a thing where I am affectionate w a person but if I get nudged away (even if it's just to readjust the position), it goes "oh no. They don't want u to touch them. Do not touch ever again or they will get mad at u. U disgust them." Even tho touch is my love language & it hurts, I just won't touch. If confronted, I will get confused & panicky cuz "u didn't want me to touch? Im respecting ur wishes? Did I miss something?" Its a mess.

Requests are indeed open, I’m sorry I take foreverrr to do these but i hope u enjoy! I don’t know what to call this tho. For simplicity’s sake I’m calling this nervous reader lmao, idk what else to call these.

Slashers x gn nervous Reader

Jason Voorhees:

Jason can very much relate to the feeling. When he first meets you, he’s sure that you’re frightened. He restrains from being too close to avoid coming off as overbearing, doesn't want to touch you because if you flinch he’ll be so hurt. He just assumes he disgusts you. Based on the reaction all of his other victims have when they see him, he’s sure you’ll probably be the same.

Once Jason is sure that you don't feel that way, he’s a cuddle monster. He wants to be close all of the time, holding hands, letting you sit in his lap, you name it. He’s so starved and quickly decides that touch is his love language too. He’s not even sure how he’s lived this long without it.

The only time I can see Jason maybe gently sort of setting you down elsewhere and walking off is when he senses strangers on the property of what once was Crystal Lake. He’s out the door before he can even see your hurt expression, Which is worse because this might lead you to jump to conclusions.

If you distance yourself from Jason, he immediately is thrown off. He can’t directly ask you if he’s done something wrong and when he tries to initiate affection with you and you don’t reciprocate whole heartedly, he’s at a loss.

He’ll get on one knee while you sulk on the couch and give you a silent plea to tell him what's wrong. You can panic and try and avoid it but he is certain there's something going on and he wants so badly to know what he’s done to put you off. You tell him and he immediately is shaking his head no, he could never be mad at you, never be disgusted with you. You’re the most breathtaking person he’s ever had the pleasure of holding, the first, most likely.

Jason nods because he understands how you feel. In the future, he’s persistent about how you feel when he untangles himself from you, making sure you’re ok.

Michael Myers:

In the later stages of your relationship, Michael is insatiable when it comes to being in contact with you. For a long time, towards the start of your relationship, he didn’t like it. It felt weird. All of the touch he's experienced prior was so clinical and sterile that he doesn’t quite know how good touch is supposed to feel. He’s so touch starved that he’s almost positive he doesn't even need it.

Slowly, he builds a tolerance for it, much like one does with alcohol, constantly checking his boundaries and letting him control the situation and he’s all for movie night, huddled up on the couch, or waking up with his head on your chest. His own personal pillow.

There are, however, moments when his need to make someone tremble with fear and then blodgeon them to death with a can opener from their own kitchen becomes too strong, so he tries to keep away from you. In the past, he might have used you to satisfy similar desires of a sexual nature and may have really hurt you but he knows that it’s not always enjoyable to you.

Then, you stop touching him. Much like Jason, he starts to think you’ve become sick of him. Sick of his coldness, his muteness, his withdrawn demeanor. Maybe you’ve moved on and he tries to tell himself he doesn’t care but he doesn't think he can see himself touching anyone but you now.

It gets to the point where he comes home one day and you look heavily troubled, expressions he’s seen on your face before, only in the event that something terrible has happened. You ask to speak to him and he obliges.

You explain that you don’t think this relationship is working, that you’re pretty sure he’s disgusted with you and how difficult this event is because you didn't even want to talk about it but it's been hurting you for too long.

His response is to stand up very slowly, pick you up and lay down with you over him, simply laying there. Hopefully, knowing you’re the one person he would ever allow to participate in this intimacy is enough to show you that you mean more than you think you do to him.

RZ Michael Myers:

This Michael is more perceptive to your touch than his counterpart, your touch sends little shivers down his spine and as soon as he gets pretty used to it, he’s eager for more. This also takes some time but significantly less. He’s enamored with the idea of returning to a somewhat normal life. Your affection grounds him in that fantasy as much as being a murderer might take him out of it.

As he establishes a relationship with you, he may even be the one to start touching you instead of the other way around. He’s read books and always wondered what it might feel like to have someone genuinely touch him without fear in their eyes. Without malice.

An unsuccessful ‘day at work’ might have Michael feeling a little het up though. He can be moody and more rageful. Neither you nor his hobbies can calm him. He seems colder than usual in these states and can come off as very standoffish.

So when you try and touch him and he shrugs your hand off his shoulder, he can’t or isn't in the state of mind to address your frown and worried look. Michael, instead stomps off somewhere to be alone for a while; maybe take his anger out on something else. Some unsuspecting soul or maybe even a poor animal in the wrong place at the wrong time.

After he’s calmed down some, he returns and almost forgot about that sad little gleam in your eye before he left. Michael remembers when he sees you blankly staring at the TV, pointedly avoiding his gaze even as you utter a weak welcome home. It’s not very welcoming. He sits stiffly beside you, watching you from the corner of his eye. You’re closed off from him and he doesn't like it at all.

Migrating towards you slowly, he eases you into a familiar hug, his big bear hugs that are a little tight but inviting all the same. His huge torso and long arms seem to swallow you in his warmth. You hardly reciprocate. You look a little surprised. Though he never addresses it verbally, (which is probably better for you) Michael offers a single glance that communicates everything he needs to say. Don't ever think that again.

Thomas B. Hewitt:

Thomas’ self esteem issues and self image are not good. He honestly doesn’t like to imagine what he looks like to other people unless it can be as a threatening man you don’t fuck with. Meeting you, he realizes that it’s good to protect his family but he’d rather you not see him as someone only capable of harm. Tries his best to get the point across that while Hoyt may be adamant that horrible things happen to you, he’s not going to let them.

Thomas has received affection but always a familial affection. A pat on the back from Monty, proud claps to his shoulders from uncle Charlie, and hugs and kisses from his dear Mother. Nothing so foreign as a strangers touch over his arm or a soft embrace.

Unfortunately, Thomas can get reactive when you attempt to touch him without his mask on. He’s absolutely settled on the false reality that you’ll see his face and immediately decide that you never want to touch him again. Interacting with you with his bare face? That's a no for Thomas.

He puts on his mask that covers the scarred skin over his face and you look dejected. He was preparing for you to pressure him but instead finds himself trying to find out why you won’t touch him now. It’s not his face, is it? You respond with your reasoning. Thomas is so confused. How could you think that you disgust him? That he doesn’t want you to touch him?

He’s quicker than the others and immediately sweeps you up into his arms and holds you as close as humanly possible. Feeling disgusting and like some sort of burden is a feeling he’s so familiar with and if he can take it away from you, he will.

Will aggressively initiate touch with you for the next week or so just to solidify the fact that he cares about you and won't reject you just as you didn’t reject him.

Bubba Sawyer:

Bubba is a great cuddle buddy and partner. Hugs are his favorite and he hugs his brother all the time, lifting both Nubbins and Chop Top into the air for some brotherly love. If you’re smaller than them he’s all about picking you up and perhaps a little rough housing with you. He’s careful though or at least there are attempts made to be careful

Bubba, though he could easily spend the whole day doing nothing and everything with you, has work. Chores, butchering. Cooking, and tending livestock. Plenty to do at the sawyer house and he does most of it. Suffice to say there are times when you want to lather attention all over him yet he has to go back to work.

So caught up in work that he doesn't get what's going on til way later, when you’ve had time to stew in your emotions, firmly telling yourself that Bubba is annoyed by you probably. He’s baffled and confused at your silence, your crossed arms. The little furrow in your brow. He can already tell there’s something upsetting you.

Honestly, Bubba is so affectionate I can’t see him being the kind of person even capable of alluding to the fact he might be disgusted by you. How, if all he wants to do is love you? You may bring it up as a joke that you thought he didn’t like you and he almost seems offended. Not like you?

Bubba can squash any feelings you may have about that and then some. He will not let you drown in insecurities, not on his watch. This man will do everything in his power to make you feel beautiful because you really are.

I’m sorry these are super long but thanks for requesting!

[nanayoungishere]

Play It Cool (Part Nine)

He decided to cook you breakfast.

Though not before staring at your sleeping face for a while.

You looked so peaceful, so content as you nuzzled into his chest. You fit so perfectly in his arms, felt so warm and soft. The little noises you made and the way you clutched him closer, murmuring his new name in your sleep, made him feel as though his heart would burst out of his chest.

He didn’t want to let you go.

But he had to, because your stomach was grumbling in your sleep. He knew you hadn’t eaten much that day, aside from the milkshake at the diner. Too busy completing course work, too busy working, too busy trying to survive another day. You weren’t afforded any time to take care of yourself.

It made him ache, thinking of how much you’ve been suffering. It made him want to cry, thinking about how unhealthy you were.

It made him hate.

Hate your boss, your teachers, your landlord, your whore of a roommate for making you push yourself like this. All those people surrounded you, all those people who supposingly cared for you and none of them even tried to help you? To relieve some of your burdens? None of them cared, despite how utterly perfect you were?

It made his blood boil. It made his hands itch with the need to grab a knife and --

You let out a pained whimper. He snapped out of his thoughts to find that he had clutched you a bit too tight to his chest.

He immediately relaxed, whispering apologies to your unconscious form, rubbing soothing circles on your back. Your face smoothed out, becoming peaceful once more, entangling your legs with his.

“Honey…”

God. He really didn’t want to get up.

But he forced himself to, gently and slowly untangling himself from your arms. You didn’t like that at all, your hands subconsciously grasping out towards him, chasing his warmth, your face set in a heartbreaking expression that made him want to get down on his knees and apologize.

He settled for kissing you. On your forehead, your cheeks, your lips, your neck. His teeth grazing your tender flesh, causing you to shiver and blush. You slumped back into the sheets, overstimulated even in your sleep.

So adorable.

Maybe you made another mess? You got so excited, so quickly. It didn’t take much to push you over the edge.

He licked his lips, his fingers trailing down your clothed body. The sheets, your clothes were still stained. Maybe before he cooked you breakfast, he should clean it up for you? He didn’t want you to wake up feeling uncomfortable after all.

He leaned over you, his eyes darting to your face every now and then to see if you’d wake up.

His tongue unfurled. Just a little taste…

Afterwards he lovingly tucked you in, running his hands through your hair one more time before heading to the kitchen.

Hopefully he had something in his fridge…

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

The moment you woke up, you felt a deep ache in your chest.

And when you sat up, and looked around at the empty room, you realized why.

He wasn’t here.

Maybe he was in the living room? Maybe he went to the bathroom? Maybe he was just outside, in the hallway?

You checked everywhere, looking through closets, checking under beds, underneath the couch. You left no stone unturned and he wasn’t there.

Did he leave me?

No, he couldn’t have. He would’ve kicked you out of the apartment if he didn’t want you here.

He could be with someone else.

No way. He was so interest in you --

Maybe he’s not. Maybe he’s humoring you because he’s sorry your such a desperate freak.

He wouldn’t do that. Honey’s too sweet, too kind and nice to do something like that to you. He wouldn’t hurt you like that.

Right?

Maybe he didn’t leave by himself.

What if someone took him?

No.

No, there’s no way someone could’ve taken him, because if they did --

What if he’s hurt?

What if he’s dying right now?

No no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no --

Then you saw something out of the corner of your eye. A note taped to the door.

Went out to buy breakfast! I’ll be back in thirty minutes!

Love you darling,

Honey~

The surge of pure relief you felt put you on the floor. You cradled that note to yourself like it was a teddy bear, like it was a lifeline, like it was a priceless, one-of-a-kind jewel that you lucked out into having.

He was just getting breakfast.

He didn’t leave you.

He was fine.

You freaked the fuck out over nothing. Again. Just like you did last night (or was it early morning?) when you tried to fucking tie him up in his sleep.

You carefully set the note aside before cradling your head in your hands and screaming.

Jesus fucking Christ, what the hell were you thinking?! What the fuck possessed you to do something so stupid and illegal and wrong and -- and --

He would’ve hated you. Absolutely, one hundred percent, would have wanted nothing to do with you after that. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

But if you kept him to yourself --

How? How the fuck would you have kept him to yourself? There’s no way you would’ve gotten away with it. It was totally a spur of the moment, dumbass, let’s-risk-everything-on-this-poorly-thought-out-decision fuckup! All it would take was him screaming to his neighbors and it would’ve all been over.

But if you planned it out…

If you found a better place…

If you took your time…

You hesitated.

...no. No, no, no, you were not thinking about it. It was wrong and fucked up.

The things you were feeling, the things you were doing, were already bad enough. It was insanity, it was obsessive, it was wrong. And if you crossed this line, if you went this far, then you’d be a monster.

Would that be such a bad thing?

You picked up the note, tracing the words with your finger.

Love you darling

He said he loved you. He said he loved you.

That -- that had to mean something, right? You had to be in a good spot with him, right? The relationship must’ve been going good.

So far.

So you didn’t need to kidnap him. You didn’t need to do something monstrous just to keep him.

Yet.

You rubbed the note against your palms. You could almost feel his fingers trailing across the page, his mind mapping out the words even as his pen wrote across the paper.

Fuck, maybe you should frame it? Keep it hanging up in your room so you could stare at it, forever.

Or maybe you can get it laminated. That way you could lick the page without worrying about the paper getting torn up or the ink running.

You pressed the note to your nose and sniffed. God, you could just about smell him and --

You carefully folded it and put it in your pocket. Then you slapped yourself.

God, get your shit together! Stop being such a fucking freak!

KNOCK KNOCK

You jumped, panic filling you at the thought of Honey seeing you act like such a freak. You immediately started making excuses. “I-I-I wasn’t sniffing your note Honey, I swear!”

KNOCK KNOCK

It was coming from the front door. You breathed a sigh of relief. He didn’t see you.

KNOCK KNOCK

You smoothed out your clothes and tried to fix your hair. Shit, you should’ve straightened yourself out earlier! What if he was disgusted because of how much of a fucking mess you were right now?

KNOCK KNOCK

“C-coming!”

You opened the door. “H-hey! Thanks for --”

You stopped. It wasn’t Honey.

“Oh I… didn’t know Peter had guests.”

It was a woman. Young, in her twenties, just about your age. With bright red hair, freckles, red glasses, a heart shaped face, and a fairly curvy figure that all together, would’ve made you think she was cute.

If not for the huge, slashing scar across her face.

From the upper corner of her face, crossing diagonally towards her chin, going through her eye, nose, and lips. Like someone had taken a knife and tried to cut her face up, but settled for simply slashing right through. Who knows, someone might have.

“Um…”

You blinked. Oh shit, did she catch you staring? “Sorry, I --”

Then what she said registered.

Peter? Was that Honey’s real name?

Holy shit. You knew his real name!

Peter.

Peter.

Peter Peter Peter Peter Peter Peter Peter Peter Peter Peter Peter Peter Peter Peter Peter Peter Peter Peter Peter Peter Peter Peter Peter Peter Peter Peter Peter Peter Peter Peter Peter Peter Peter Peter

Fuck, that’s such a good name. Way fucking better than Honey. Would it be weird if you started calling him that?

But he really seemed to like it when you called him Honey…

“Oh, it’s fine.”

Oh, she was still talking. Shit, you shouldn’t be ruder than you already were --

“I just wanted to give him these.” She said, holding out a bag. “I left them by his door, but I don’t think he noticed.”

It was a bag of cookies.

In the shape of hearts.

And it wasn’t fucking Valentines Day. Wasn’t even close to February.

So that meant --

You sucked in a sharp breath, your eyes laser focused on the cookies. On the ugly bitch that was holding them.

She was saying something but you couldn’t find it in yourself to give two fucks because it was taking everything you had not to strangle her right then and there because look at her.

Look at her.

Look at this freckled fuck.

Giving him cookies, knowing his real name, showing up at his door like a fucking hooker.

You should've known from the moment you laid eyes on her. Shouldn’t have answered that fucking door.

Fuck, what if Honey (Peter, Peter, Peter, Peter) had been here? Would she have batted her ugly, filthy eyelashes at him, pressed her flabby breasts against him, and tried to take him away?

Had she done that before?

For all you knew… she could be his ex. She could have --

touched him kissed him hugged him talked to him cradled him fucked him

The surge of rage and hatred you felt filled you so quickly and so suddenly that you had to hold the door to keep yourself steady. You could feel your vision blacking out at the edges, could feel your entire body shaking, trembling with the need to --

rip tear crush stab bash slice break hit kill kill kill kill

Because she wanted to take him from you.

Take Honey, your Peter, the love of your life, the one who made you feel, truly feel for the first time in forever. The one you feel in love with, the one who made you feel so happy, so content, the one that filled your dreams, filled your every waking moment with joy and ecstasy.

This woman -- no.

This fucking ingrate wanted to take what was --

mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine

“...seen him? I just wanted to give these to him before I got back to work.”

You snapped back to reality.

The bitch was staring at you, her ugly, scarred face showing an uncertain expression.

Your fingers flexed. You took a step forward.

I want to kill her.

You heard a door slam. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw someone step out of their apartment. A man, fiddling with their phone.

He glanced towards the two of you.

Fuck.

It was like you got splashed with cold water. The rage and hatred was still there, but controlled. Contained.

You had to hold it together. You had to keep your cool. Because if you hurt this woman -- if you got caught, which you absolutely would -- then he would know.

And he’d never, ever want anything to do with you again.

You tried to smile. “He’s… not here right now. Just -- just give them to me. I’ll make sure he gets them.”

Her expression fell. “Um --”

You snatched the bag from her hands. “Who are you? What was your name again?”

“Uh, I’m Lizzie Bee,” she said, pointing to herself. “I’m Peter’s landlord.”

Landlord?

Fuck, then you really couldn’t kill her. You’d be putting Honey/Peter out of a home.

“Right. I’m Y/N.” Your smile might’ve turned into a snarl, but who the fuck cared? Not you. “Peter’s my boyfriend.”

“Oh.” She didn’t look the slightest bit concerned. The whore. “Well, it’s nice to meet you.”

You resisted the urge to slam the door on her face. “Likewise.”

You watched her walk away, disappearing around the hall. You made sure to take note of where she went before slamming the door.

Without her in front of you, taunting you with her presence, you could feel your rage and hatred subsiding. The urge to kill was fading with every second you got to breathe and collect yourself.

You couldn’t kill her.

You couldn’t kill her.

It was too risky wrong. It was wrong and you knew it was wrong, because you were a normal person.

What normal person falls in love at first sight?

What normal person becomes murderously possessive over someone they’ve only met for a couple of days?

What normal person considers kidnapping the one they love?

Shut the fuck up.

Your hands trembled as you ran them through your hair. You had to make a plan. Had to figure out what to do to deal with that bitch.

You couldn’t lose him to someone else. Just the thought of it was --

no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no

please

please God don’t let anyone take him away from me please

You felt tears pricking your eyes. You swallowed back a sob, trying to ignore the ache in your chest.

You would figure something out. You had to.

But first, you needed to flush every single one of these cookies down the fucking toilet.

(Previous)

(Next)

[theres-an-impulstor-among-us]

Hey so, you know that whole 'Red's get innate bloodlust' and how Jimmy doesn't reaaallllyyy seem to have that? what if for some reason or other, maybe it's a glitch in the system or a trick of the gods, All of Jimmy's bloodlust and rage are actually felt by Scott. Green life Scott. ;) do with this what you will <3

oh my gosh this was so much fun to write! such an interesting concept!! :D

…

Grian is sorting through some chests in his house when he hears someone enter the room. Glancing up, he’s a little surprised to see Scott standing in the doorway, hands clasped together awkwardly. “Hey, Grian,” he says slowly. “Sorry for intruding. Have you got a minute?”

Closing the chest, Grian nods and stands up. “Yeah, sure. What’s up?”

“Um…” Scott leans back against the wall, arms folded. “So… you created this server, right?”

“I did, yeah.”

“Then hopefully you’ll have an answer to this,” says Scott. “I know there’s supposed to be this thing where red lifers feel some kind of bloodlust towards greens and yellows, but Jimmy doesn’t seem to be feeling it at all. We tried to activate it a couple of times but we got nothing. Then… there was kind of a… an incident.”

“Incident?” echoes Grian. “What kind of incident?”

“An attempted murder kind of incident,” Scott says slowly, “which Joel was lucky to escape with his life from.”

Grian cocks his head curiously. “What triggered it?”

“I’ve no idea. As far as I recall, everything’s fine one second, then suddenly, Joel’s on the ground bleeding from the neck. It was absolutely terrifying.”

“Oh, geez…” Grian frowns. “What was Jimmy doing right before it happened?”

“What?” Scott stares at him for a moment. “No, not Jimmy. Me.”

Grian’s eyes widen. “What? You?”

Scott silently holds out his hands, showing the spots of dried blood on them.

“Oh my god… Is that…?”

“Yeah. It’s Joel’s.” Scott takes a deep breath. “What do I do, Grian”?

“Firstly, tell me what happened,” Grian urges. “Tell me everything.”

“Okay.”

…

“It’s not working,” Jimmy complains. “I know I said I don’t want to feel bloodthirsty like the other reds but it’s weird that I’m the ONLY one who doesn’t seem to feel it. I don’t wanna be the only one.”

Scott gives his friend a thoughtful look. “This is bizarre. We’ve tried everything I can think of and yet it still hasn’t happened.”

“Hey, guys.”

The two look up to find Joel sauntering up the hill towards them. “How did you get in here?” Scott asks. “The gate’s locked.”

“I broke through the wall.”

Scott sighs. “‘Course you did. What do you want?”

“I just wanted to come up here and see what you’re up to,” says Joel. “I could see you from over there and what you were doing looked really strange.”

“We’ve just been trying to activate Jimmy’s red life bloodlust,” Scott says. “For some reason, he doesn’t feel the same urge to hurt or kill people as other red-lifers do.”

Joel grins. “Does that mean you don’t feel the urge to attack me when I do this?”

He shoves Jimmy, who stumbles back and almost trips over his own feet.

“Don’t do that,” Scott snaps, reaching out to steady his friend. “That’s mean.”

“Oh, am I being mean?” Joel proceeds to push Jimmy again, actually knocking him down this time. “Sorry about that.”

As Jimmy slowly climbs back to his feet, Scott moves in front of him, a steely glare on his face. “Joel. Stop.”

“I’ll stop if he proves he’s worthy of the red name and attacks me.”

“W-Worthy?” splutters Jimmy. “I never asked to be red!”

“I need you to leave, Joel,” Scott says firmly. “Before one of us does something we regret.”

Still grinning, Joel pushes Scott.

Something inside Scott snaps. Overwhelming rage surges through him. Teeth bared, he tackles Joel to the ground and rakes his nails down Joel’s neck, the urge to maim and kill only growing stronger as blood leaks from the cuts he’s creating.

His hands close around Joel’s neck.

“SCOTT!” comes Jimmy’s terrified scream from behind him. “SCOTT, STOP!”

Scott freezes.

Taking advantage of this, Joel sinks his fist into Scott’s stomach and shoves him aside, before scrambling to his feet and taking off into the trees.

Winded by the hit to his stomach, Scott shakily rolls onto his side, intending to push himself to his feet, but freezes again when he spots the blood on his hands.

“Scott!” gasps Jimmy, dropping to his knees beside his friend. “Are you okay?! What happened back there?!”

Scott can’t answer.

He has no idea.

…

“I sent Jimmy home and came straight here,” Scott finishes. “Grian, I-I was terrified. I still am. Why is this happening to me?”

Grian has been listening to Scott’s story with concern and interest. “Aside from being kinda horrifying, that’s also pretty interesting. I mean, you’re definitely the only non-red experiencing that kind of bloodlust. I’ve seen it in Scar and even Skizzle before but never Jimmy or a non-red.”

“I guess the first question would be why I’M the one out of the two of us being affected by this,” says Scott, “considering Jimmy’s the red lifer, not me.”

“Exactly. The only thing I can think of that’s more unusual about Jimmy’s case than the other reds’ is that Jimmy went from green to red a lot faster. Normally, it takes a little while for the server to register the change in a green going to yellow and a yellow going to red, but in Jimmy’s case, he went from green to red so quickly that maybe the server glitched and didn’t fully complete his transformation to red.”

“What, and you think the red-life bloodlust thing went to me by accident instead of Jimmy?” Scott asks.

Grian shrugs. “It’s a possibility. Honestly, I can’t really think of anything else it could be. I’ll do some investigating but it’s highly likely I won’t be able to undo this.”

“What do you mean?”

“I dunno if it’ll carry through to your yellow life too but it seems that this is something you might be stuck with for your whole time on this server. It might stop when you’re yellow, it might stop when you’re red, or it might get twice as bad. We’ll only know when we get to that point.”

Scott sighs quietly and glances away. “I was afraid of that. But what if I kill someone? I’m not supposed to do that; I’m not red yet. Or worse… Grian, what if I hurt Jimmy?”

“I don’t know, I’m afraid,” replies Grian reluctantly. “Are you gonna tell him?”

Scott hesitates. “I… don’t know at the moment. I don’t want him to worry about me.”

“Well, I can tell you from experience that bloodlust won’t discriminate between friend and enemy. All I can advise is for you to be really careful. As you know, he’s red; you can’t afford to slip up even once or you might lose him.”

“Trust me, I know,” Scott snaps. “That’s not very helpful, Grian.”

“Well, I’m sorry, but I’ve never encountered this before. Like I said, I WILL investigate. But you might have to prepare yourself for a new reality.”

After a moment, Scott shakes his head. “Sorry, Grian. I appreciate your help.”

Grian moves closer and places his hand on Scott’s shoulder. “I’ll do what I can.”

“Thank you.”

…

When Scott gets home, he finds Jimmy waiting for him. Jimmy jumps off his chair and tackles Scott in a hug. “Scott! I’ve been so worried about you!”

“I’m sorry,” says Scott softly. “Are you okay?”

“A lot better now you’re back.” Jimmy gives Scott a worried frown. “What happened back there? It was terrifying seeing you like that.”

“I didn’t mean to worry you. I just lost control a bit. His smug face and the way he was flippantly pushing you around just… made me lose it. I wasn’t gonna seriously hurt him.”

Scott winces internally at the lie. He’s fully aware that he would have killed Joel if Jimmy hadn’t said anything.

Jimmy doesn’t seem too convinced but he doesn’t push Scott any further. “Where’ve you been for the last hour?”

“I just needed to go see Grian and tell him what happened,” Scott responds truthfully. “In case Joel complains.”

“Why would he? He’s red and he attacked you first so you were allowed to defend yourself.”

Scott just shrugs. “Just in case. I don’t want there to be any trouble.”

Jimmy gazes at Scott, forcing him to meet his eyes. “Are you sure that’s the only thing troubling you? There’s nothing else?”

For several seconds, Scott just gazes back into Jimmy’s worried face, imagining himself attacking Jimmy as viciously as he attacked Joel just hours earlier, imagining Jimmy’s terrified face as he bleeds the life out of him. And for a moment, he hates himself. If only it was Jimmy. Scott can defend himself against red-life Jimmy. But Jimmy doesn’t stand a chance against a bloodthirsty Scott.

“Scott?” Jimmy says again. “Is there something else worrying you?”

Scott shakes his head and pulls Jimmy into another hug.

“No. Nothing.”

[illyaana]

Tags: Angst (like a lot), Fluff (like a lot), Kaminari Denki x Reader (shoulder-length hair pls, tq), Binaural

Synopsis: You and Denki are childhood friends. When you were young, you two found this little meadow filled with wildflowers. Who'd thought your safe haven would bring back such painful feelings?

Word Count: 2812

Dont forget to check out the main masterlist of the event hosted by @kuroos-babygirl over here!

⋯⋯ ⫍ Masterlist ◍ Navigation ⫎ ⋯⋯

The meadow you both crouched on glowed a gold hue as your fingers grazed the soft petals of the tall wildflowers, its stems rubbing against your sides. You eyed how the soft colour dusted itself on the peach skin of the boy before you, his entranced gaze stuck on the yellow and black-coloured butterfly fluttering its wings on the white-coloured flower. You enjoyed the bright smile adorned on the innocent male as he saw the now flying butterfly dance in the pale blue sky.

When’s the last time you both did this? - just walking around this little haven you both found together a year back?

Your six-year-old self reflected on all the memories they made with the seven-year-old in front of them.

It all began here - this little prairie.

Your first friend, your first wound, your first fight, your first day-out; it all took place in this land of vast greenery dusted yellow by blackeyed susans, corn marigold and bird's-foot trefoil.

It is all thanks to the adventurous, little blonde boy in front of you.

“Why are you staring, Y/N?” Denki said, nudging you.

“Just looking at the flowers, that’s all.”

A good lie, Y/N - a skilful lie.

He looked at your finger, eyeing it. Soon your hands were in his, the soft pad of his fingers trailing on the small lines of your hands. Each crevice was examined by that soft gaze of his, playing with your soft skin. His finger stopped at the scar painted on the fleshy part of your palm, a sulk forming on his lips.

“Was this from that time I dared you to jump from that tree?” He asked, guilt laced in his whispers.

It was, but you didn’t want him to know.

“Don’t worry, Denks - it wasn’t from that dare,” you say as you take your hands away from his grip, “I picked up a rock and there was a sharp end and it cut through my skin.”

He pulled your hand back into his, stretching the skin around the scar. He tried looking for clues to make sure you weren’t lying, a stressed look evident on his face.

You chuckled, gripping the side of his cheek and pinching it.

He looked at your radiant smile and all his worries washed away.

He let go of your hand and gripped your cheek in his left hand. His thumb began to rub small circles on your cheek, admiring how you leaned into his touch.

He loved how you were so at peace and calm when you were with him. You had no qualms in wasting hours listening to his dreams and aspirations, intervening once in a while to expand on his little ideas.

But you - right now, like this - is his favourite of it all.

You looked like an angel, the light from the Sun lighting your soft skin. The flowers and the very ends of your hair softly swished against the wind, forming such beautiful scenery as he took in the view unravelling in front of him.

He wondered how those flowers would look against your fingers, your hair, your ears…

He wondered how you’d look dripping in flowers.

“Sit down.”

Denki eyed the ground beneath him, looking for flowers that reminded him of you. The softness you brought, the light mood you formed whenever you were around him, the warmth you radiated whenever you were with him - he kept it all in his head as he saw the flowerbeds filled with flowers of different species.

His eyes stopped at the Black-eyed Susans that swished with the wind.

He instantly grabbed handfuls of the dainty-looking flower, hoping he had enough for the idea he had in his head.

Using his long nails, he cut the stem of the flower right down in the middle. He split one of the sections again, making three strips out of a stem. He then slowly began to braid the stems together, weaving them into a long strip.

“Stick your ring finger out, Y/N.”

You let him wrap that small strap around your finger, a determined gaze focused on the base of it.

He then inserted the end of the weaved strip into a section of the strip, securing its shape.

He took the rest of the flowers he collected and put them in his pocket as he walked behind you.

“What are you doing?” You asked.

“Let me do this! I have an idea,” he said, happiness lacing his words.

In a huff of annoyance, you agreed.

He began to braid the two front pieces of your hair, slowly adding the flowers he collected. He made sure that the stems were hidden behind your luscious hair. Once he finished braiding them both, he brought them to the back of your head, tying them together with the hair tie on your wrist.

“Are you finally done?” You ask, turning to face him.

You stared at his eyes focused on you, a small blush dusting his cheeks.

Angel.

“Yeah. Thanks for letting me do this, Y/N,” he replied, covering his cheeks with his arm.

You looked like an angel to him. The way your eyes twinkled, your soft lips, your cute nose, your soft skin, your gaze - it was all so perfect to him.

“Y/N,” he started, “Promise me when we get older, we’ll marry each other?”

Your eyes widen as you quickly stand up in shock.

“The hell, Denki?!” You felt blood rushing to your cheeks, “You just can’t say that!”

“I think you’re the only one that can handle me - after all, you’re still here,” he says as he rubs his chin.

“Denki, life doesn’t work like that.”

“And you know how my life is going to work? Knowing me, I’d be single until I’m 23-years old if we don’t make this promise. I’d most probably have a sugar baby-”

“Stop,” you say, holding back your laughter, “Is that your plan if you don’t get into a relationship by 23?”

“...maybe.”

You began laughing, clutching onto your stomach as you stared at him.

“Stop laughing, okay!” he says, annoyed.

“Well, at least you have goals-”

“Y/N!” He says, hitting your back.

You take a deep breath as you recollect your thoughts.

Maybe a life with him won’t be so bad.

“If I can prevent you from thinking of being a sugar daddy that early in life, then sure; we can get married.”

He smiled, grabbing your hands.

“Thank you, Y/N!”

You both hold hands as you walk out of the meadow.

“I’m picturing you with a college girl at 65-year-”

“Stop.”

.

.

.

“You’re finally back!” said Denki as he jumped into your arms.

“Yeah, I am.”

You looked at the now pro-hero in your hands. You chuckled when you felt his small grip on the back of your loosely fit university hoodie. He pressed his head against your chest, nuzzling into the soft cotton. A small hum left his lips as you ruffled his blonde hair - signalling how comfortable he felt in your hands.

God, you missed him - it felt so wrong to leave him right after graduating from UA.

However, you have become a skilled inventor - no one could doubt that. Thanks to the guidance of David Shield, you’ve made your name in the inventing world. You came back to Mustafu to build your brand - hopefully alongside your childhood friend.

“So, Chargebolt,” you teased, “Congrats on getting into the top 10 of the Hero chart! I was shocked when I found out that you - of all people - got in.”

“Hey,” He hit the back of your head, “I’m a good hero, okay?”

“I sense favouritism but okay,” you teased again.

“Not very good of you as an up and coming inventor to tease a pro-hero.”

“So the friend label is gone? Understood, sir. Have a great day,” you say as you push him off of you.

“Fine, fine, fine. Come in.”

You walk into Denki’s new apartment and a flush of memories come.

You eyed the small pictures he hung on the wall, the little trinkets he kept on his coffee table and the way he arranged his kitchen. It all reminded you of his former home - the home near that little meadow.

You miss it - you both did.

You took out the little flower ring he made all those years ago and placed it in his hands.

“Remember this?” You ask.

“You kept it?” He said, smiling, “I can’t believe you did!”

“Yeah. I book-pressed it the minute I went back,” you say, chuckling, “Y’know, I still think about that little promise we made in that meadow from now and then.”

“What promise?”

You eyed the metal band around his ring finger.

He remembers - he definitely remembers. After all, he was the one who made you agree to it.

“You didn’t tell me we were having guests, Denki.”

Your eyes fell to Jirou walking out of a room and wrapping her arms around his waist from the back. She pressed her head against his neck, her hair brushing against it. He smiled, leaning into the newfound warmth she gave.

You saw the same metal ring around her left ring finger. The same gem, the same design, the same shape - everything.

“I forgot to tell you, didn’t I? I’m engaged to Jirou! - We’re getting married later this year.”

Of course, he forgot. It was just a simple promise you both made when you were kids. It meant nothing - nothing at all.

“I’m happy for you, Denki - I really am.”

You really were.

You are happy that he finally met someone who loved him despite seeing all his flaws.

You are happy Jirou managed to see what you saw in Denki - a loveable, amazing soul with a heart of gold.

You just wished you didn’t hold onto that promise.

You wish you threw away that rotting ring when you had the chance.

You wish you never went to that meadow.

You wish you never met Denki - not like that.

You wish you never fell in love with him.

“Thanks, Y/N,” Denki said as he hugged you again.

You don’t want him to hug you.

You wanted distance - you wanted to go back to I-Island.

You don’t want to be here.

You tried to pry Denki off of you, but you couldn’t - his grip on you was too strong.

“Denki, you’re choking me,” you say whilst fake-laughing.

You looked at Jirou who smiled at his display of affection towards you.

She trusts you - she knows how much you mean to him.

You don’t deserve it - her trust is wasted on you.

You are in love with her future husband - the very person who is hugging you as tight as they can.

“Denki, they look so uncomfortable - get off,” she said, patting her shoulder.

You want to get out of here.

You need to.

“I think I’ll head to my hotel room, Denks,” you say as you grab your bags.

“But-”

“Denki,” you say as you push him off of you angrily, “I need to go, ok?”

You look at his torn expression and guilt hits you.

But it was his fault - all of this was.

He isn’t meant to cry - you are.

And here he is, tearing just at the sight of your angry expression.

“What’s wrong, Y/N? Did something happen? You seemed okay when you came earlier…”

Stop crying, Denki.

“There’s nothing wrong, Kaminari. I just need to check into my hotel room, that’s all.”

Kaminari.

“Do you want me to drive you there? I-”

“It’s okay, Kaminari. I’ll get a cab.”

Kaminari.

“Y/N, we’re good, right?”

“Why would you think we aren’t, Kaminari?”

Kaminari.

You walked out of their apartment, tears trailing down your eyes.

.

.

.

You stood in the meadow you met Kaminari, eyes closed. You took in the fresh air brushing against your skin as the smell of fresh flowers invades your nose. Your now long hair felt weightless as the wind lifted it, giving you wings.

“How do I look, Y/N?”

You stared at Denki in his black tux and smiled.

He looked amazing, as usual.

His skin looked amazing against the obsidian-coloured suit. The sunlight hit his skin so well it looked like it was glowing. His hair was tousled, giving you a full view of his undercut. You chuckled when you saw the black streak of his hair hidden under his natural yellow hair - it looked as if he was trying to hide his foolish mistakes when he was a kid. You looked at his small piercing now adorned with a purple gem, reminding you of his fiance.

He’s finally getting married.

He’s getting married in the meadow where you both spent your younger years.

He’s getting married to someone else in the meadow where you both spent your younger years.

“You look good, Kaminari.”

“Why are you calling me Kaminari? Call me Denki.”

“I can’t, Kaminari.”

It would bring back too many memories.

Painful memories.

“I don’t know why you can’t, though?”

“It doesn’t feel right…”

“You’ve been calling me Denki or Denks ever since we were kids, Y/N! Hearing you call me Kaminari sounds wrong…”

“Leave it, Kaminari,” you say, hiding your feelings behind a laugh.

“No, I won’t. Call me Denks, Y/N.”

Stop.

“Later, Kaminari.”

“Not Kaminari - Denki.”

Stop.

“I promise I’ll call you that later, now go get ready.”

“I am not leaving until you call me Denki.”

Stop.

“Kaminari, just go.”

“I don’t know why you stopped calling me Denki ever since you saw Jirou that day - it doesn’t make sense. You were my first friend that called me Denks, you made that nickname - Why are you calling me by the nickname you made?”

Stop talking about it, please.

“Please, Kaminari - let it go.”

He grabbed your wrist, pulling you towards him.

“I won’t until you tell me why. Did I do something wrong? Just tell me, Y/N. You know I won’t hate you no matter what happens.”

“Just drop it, ok?” You say, anger lacing your words.

“Oh my god, Y/N! Just tell me-”

“Fine.”

You forced your wrist out of his grip, making him fall on the couch.

“You wanna know why? It’s because I thought you remembered the promise we made as kids. I hoped you felt the way I did about it; I hoped you knew why I never got into a relationship.”

You gripped your phone tightly, not wanting to lash out at him anymore.

Why did you do that? Why today?

He’s supposed to be happy today.

“What promise, Y/N?”

A dark smile graced your lips.

What were you thinking? Shouting at him won’t make him remember.

Tears began to fall from your eyes as you lifted your face to see his worried face.

“It’s okay, Kaminari - don’t worry about it.”

“How can I not? You’re crying in front of me,” he said, tears forming in his eyes, “You weren’t meant to cry today.”

You weren’t either, Denki.

He got off the couch and began to hug you tightly. He pressed your head against his shoulder as he rubbed your back.

“Please don’t cry, Y/N.”

You gently push Denki and cup his face in your hands. You rub the tears from his eyes as he pressed his cheek onto your left hand.

“You okay, Denks?”

Just for today, you’ll give what he wants.

Just today.

“There it is!” He said, jumping on you, “Don’t you dare call me anything but Denks again.”

“Mhmm.”

You hugged him one last time before heading to your seat, waiting for the ceremony to commence.

.

.

.

You saw how happy he stood at the altar with Kirishima by his side. You chuckled as you looked at the small banter happening between the two of them, pissing off the priest slightly. Bakugo snapped at the two of them very often, telling them to keep quiet.

Still the mother of the group.

Soon after, Jirou walked in.

She wore a white dress that tugged on her amazing figure, surrounded by lace. Dandelions surrounded her, flying in the air, encasing her in pure beauty. They danced around her as her orchestra of young kids sang and played instruments for her.

You saw how tears formed in both of their eyes as they stared at each other.

Tears of joy encapsulating how much they’ve dreamed of this moment.

While yours that showed joy hid everlasting longing.

You feel cheated - not by Denki, but the black-eyed Susans that tickled your feet.

You feel cheated by the black-eyed Susans that cleared a path for Jirou to meet her beloved.

You feel cheated by the black-eyed Susans Denki used when he was young to make you that damn ring.

Your tears watered the devilish flowers painted yellow and black that stood beneath you, taking in your pain as a drug.

[tryingmyves]

Love Me Right

Ask:  hi hi i’m sliding in the inbox 👀 congrats on 60 followers !! you deserve it 😔💗💗 could i request #2 with dabi ? if you don’t write for him, just let me know and i’ll change it ! tysm bb 💓 @madeofsaltiness​

thank you so much for the request babe! i hope you like this! i haven’t written for Dabi before, so hopefully this doesn’t seem too out of character - but i liked the challenge. also this is the first time i’ve written smut sooooo 👀 the prompt is italicized

PAIRING: Dabi x Y/N

c/w: alcohol, possessive!Dabi, villian!Y/N, smut-smut golf 

a/n: like i said - this is my first time writing for Dabi so i’d really appreciate any feedback anyone has  ☼

Send me a request! ► 60 Followers event

You never intended to become a villain, but you have never been enamored with heroes the way the whole of society is. You had decided a long time ago that you were content being just another cog in the machine of the world. You work a dead-end job at a run-down bar near the city’s red light district on nights and weekends and spend your days sleeping off your hang-overs from the night before. The Copper Queen was a shithole, if you were honest. But the alcohol was strong and free since you were a bartender. Moreover, you make decent money off tips from nervous perverts who come in to get drunk before wandering over a few more blocks to purchase some company for the night. Aware of your regular patrons’ personalities, you thought the true heroes of the world may be the working girls near the bar. In your opinion, heroes get too much credit. Society isn’t better now that everyone has quirks - it’s just different. There’s still inequity, extortion, and a load of other shit that every-day people have to deal with. The heroes don’t help with that, not unless it was flashy enough to garner some publicity. Maybe if you had been blessed with a better quirk you’d think differently; give the glamorous life of heroics a try. But you were just a mockingjay - able to copy the phonetical diction and vernacular of those you hear in person. You are great at impressions, but typically you went through life without acknowledging your quirk. Although, occasionally you’d entertain yourself by mocking some of your patrons - they just made it too easy. It’s incredibly off-putting to hit on someone only for them to sarcastically flirt back in your own voice. You’ll never tire of the reactions you get from your little trick.

It was just another Saturday night at the Queen. The lights low, music loud, and air filled with the smell of smoke and stale beer. A couple of regulars sat on the far end of the bar, while others played billiards or darts. The bell on the door chimes, announcing the arrival of an unfamiliar face accompanied by a gust of chill air. He strides forward to your bar, not concerned with platitudes, “Whiskey, neat. Make it a triple.”

You’re unbothered by his attitude, men clothed in faux toughness came through the Queen’s doors daily. You simply grab a glass and place it in front of him, fetch the whiskey bottle from behind you, and rotate it once around your arm before catching it by the neck and pouring his shot. You’re not a show pony, but cheap tricks like this often increased your tips, and cash was cash.  

You slide the tumbler forward to your new patron, leaning forward against the bar slightly, ensuring he’d catch a glance of your cleavage, accentuated by your low cut top, “Seven dollars, hun.” He is admittedly hot, his dark hair and purple scars make his blue eyes even more striking. And from the few words he spoke you could hear his voice was deep and raspy. Typically, the men who frequent The Copper Queen are the types you avoid, but this one has you intrigued. 

He slaps a $10 onto the counter, “Keep the change. And the names Dabi, princess.” The word princess was more of a hiss. He takes a deep drink from the glass you placed in front of him, “I don’t do pet names.”

You grab the $10 from the counter and turn around to place it into the register, already rethinking your first impression of this Dabi. “I don’t do pet names, princess.” You mock under your breath, it was too early in the evening to deal with his shit. 

“What the hell was that?” he snarls.

You didn’t intend for him to hear you; you didn’t even intend to say the comment aloud. Maybe those shots you took when you opened tonight had done more than you thought. “Don’t recognize your own voice, Dabi?” You say in your own voice, emphasizing his name.

He’s staring at you, jaw clenched and brows knitted together in annoyance, but slight curiosity. “Say something else, like me,” he orders.

“I’m not some bitch, I don’t do tricks,” you retort.

He raises an eyebrow, “You just did when you were trying to get a tip from me.” He holds another $10 up between two long fingers. You see the burn scars present on his face and neck extend down his forearms like sleeves, stopping just past his wrists.

You extend your hand and once he places the crumpled bill in your palm you say, “Hi, I’m Dabi, I don’t do pet names, and my social skills are shit. I tip well though.”  Your voice gone, now replaced with a perfect replica of his. 

His eyebrows raise, shifting from their furrowed position, and his jaw relaxes into an amused smirk. “What’s your name, princess?”

“Y/N.”

“Y/N,” he repeats, finishing off the remaining whiskey in his glass. He looks like he is considering something as he drinks and then he speaks again, “what time do you get out of here? I want you to meet some friends of mine.”

“And what makes you think I want to meet them?” you challenge.

“Because you want to leave with me tonight,” he answers with a wicked smile.

And he was right. Something about his abrasive attitude had you hooked, and he didn’t back down when you responded with a similar temperament. “2AM.. You’ve got a couple of hours to kill,” is all you say before turning around, walking to the other end of the bar to get more drinks for your other patrons.

____________________________

  The memory of your first encounter with Dabi comes to your mind. You shake your head with a sad laugh. What the fuck had you been thinking? You had left with him that night and met his friends: The League of Villains. Somehow you ended up as a new recruit. You had always thought your quirk was a bit useless compared to things like super strength or fiery power, but the League of Villains saw its potential. Between Toga’s ability to look like anyone whose blood she got her hands on and your ability to mimic voices, doors were opening left and right for the LoV. 

Over the last three months you’ve gotten pretty comfortable with your new friends. The Copper Queen essentially a villain bar now and one of their unofficial hideouts. You and Dabi had even started dating. At first it was just sex, hot, mind-numbing sex, but nothing more. That was until Dabi saw another new recruit trying to make a move on you. He put an end to that real quick. He strode over to you, possessively throwing an arm around your shoulder, growling “she’s mine,” at the man who was trying to flirt with you. His eyes sparking, a warning of the blue flames to come if the recruit didn’t scram. The warning was more than enough, and he left the two of you quickly. 

At the time, his words made you happy, but now they felt like a prison. She’s mine. Dabi isn’t a jealous type, but he is possessive. And he often misread your friendly interactions with others as something more than they were. You had ignored it for a while, but lately, it felt like you were suffocating. Your irritation finally boiling over in a fight four nights ago when you yelled at him in front of a number of other LoV members, “You’re fucking smothering me! It’s like I can’t even breath near other people or you think I’m going to fuck them!” You’d stormed out after that, not waiting around for a reaction to your outburst. 

You’ve been hiding out in your apartment since then, unable to go to work, knowing the people you’re avoiding are likely there. You hadn’t talked to Dabi since then either. Neither of you were the type to apologize first and you were too stubborn to let him win. Toga had texted you a few times since the incident but you hadn’t responded, unsure of what to say. You’re watching TV in your living room when there’s a knock at the door. “Toga, I promise I’m alive - I just want to be alone,” you shout, heaving yourself off the couch and meandering towards the door. You fling it open, expecting to find the school girl and her space buns, but instead find Dabi. As you’re deciding whether or not you’re just going to shut the door in his face he strides forward.

“I’m done with this bullshit,” he declares, hoisting you off the ground and into his arms. He spins you around, shoving your back against your front door and pushing it closed. He smashes his lips against yours, forcing his tongue into your mouth, keeping you pinned between him and the door. The initial surprise fades quickly and you give into your desires, wrapping one arm around his neck and bringing the other up to grab a fistful of his hair; you cross your ankles behind his back bringing yourself closer to him and securing your place. His kisses are sloppy and forceful, his tongue fighting with your own for dominance, neither of you willing to surrender. You can feel his cock through his jeans, already hard and grinding into you. You pull his head backwards by the fistful of hair in your hands, separating his lips from yours, desperate for air. Despite your grip, he brings his face forward again, this time kissing your collarbone, sucking bruises into your skin. One of his hands holding you up by your ass, the other has worked its way under your shirt grabbing your breast and rubbing circles over your nipple with a calloused thumb. His long tongue licks a stripe up your neck to your ear, before he bites down on your earlobe. “We’re done fighting. I love you,” he rasps, his breath making goosebumps erupt across your skin. 

“If you’re gonna love me make sure that you do it right,” is all you can get out before his lips are back on yours, your bottom lip caught between his teeth.

Dabi seems to take your answer as a challenge, standing up right and spinning around. He carries you to your bedroom and only separates himself from you when he throws you on to your bed.

“Take off your clothes,” he commands before he starts removing his own.

You do as he says, but not quickly enough. You are just getting to your shorts when he pushes you onto your back. He hooks his fingers under the waistband and strips them off of you with force, before crawling between your legs. He bites at your thighs, littering them with a trail of kisses, as he works his way to your core. He murmurs a soft, “missed you,” before licking a slow stripe up your folds. A breathy gasp leaving your lips as he continues lapping at your cunt. He’s got your legs thrown over his shoulders, one hand coming up to rub vigorous circles against your clit and the other massaging the breast he neglected while he had you pinned against the door. 

“Nng, you’re already so wet for me,” he hums into your folds.

Moans of pleasure escape your throat, even though you were angry at him you had missed him the whole time. You had grown so accustomed to his touch, it made you ache to go so long without it. “Dabi, please,” you beg.

“Not yet, princess,” he coos. He repositions himself, bringing his face to yours to shower you in kisses once more. His hand shifts, still thumbing at your clit he slides two long fingers into you. You buck your hips into him, a sigh of pleasure spilling out of your mouth and into his. He swallows your noises hungrily, pumping his fingers in and out of you. You can taste yourself on his tongue and can feel the heat inside of you building already. He adds a third finger, picking up the pace of his thrusts. His other hand comes up to grab you by the throat and you’re on the verge of tears. He spreads his fingers out inside you and you feel yourself come undone around him, a strangle scream of pleasure spilling from your throat.

Your head is in a daze, still coming down from your orgasm, but you can see through unfocused eyes Dabi licking your juices off each of his fingers. Before you can even catch your breath he flips you onto your stomach. He grabs you by the hips and pulls you onto your knees so your ass is in the air. You can’t even ask him to wait before he’s thrusting into you, his cock burying itself in your walls.

“Ahhh, fuck Y/N,” he moans, slapping your ass.

Your knees are shaking and you can barely see past the tears spilling from your eyes. You were still riding out your first orgasm and Dabi was already pushing you towards a second. You know the overstimulation is punishment for the scene you caused the other day, but Dabi just can’t help himself. Since the two of you got together, the longest you had gone without sex was two days. He never cared what time it was, where you were, or what time of the month it was, he just couldn’t resist you. He snakes an arm under you, grabbing you by the neck and bringing you up so your back rests against his scarred chest. His other arm comes around your waist, his hand going back to your bundle of nerves that was already so sensitive.

“Tell me what you want, princess,” he whispers, each word punctuated by the thrust of his cock deeper inside you.

“Ahh - I want.. I want you to come inside me!” you all but scream, hardly able to form a coherent sentence. 

His tongue glides across the outside of your ear, “As you wish.” He plunges his dick into you deeper still, hitting that special spot that only he seems capable of finding. You clench around him, overtaken by ecstasy once more, pornographic screams of pleasure filling your room. Between your sounds and your walls constricting around him, Dabi falters, his steady movements becoming sloppy as he nears his high. He pumps into you once more before bursting, spilling his seed inside your messy cunt.

He releases his grasp on you, letting you fall to your bed again in bliss. The both of you lay next to each other, breathless and sweaty. He places a gentle kiss on your shoulder and throws an arm over you.

“I don’t want to fight with you again,” he whispers.

You roll over to face him, snuggling in closer. “Then don’t,” is all you say, placing a quick peck on his lips before settling into your bed.     

[beifongsss]

fake it till you make it [zuko]

Pairing: Zuko x reader

Requested?: Yes! By a very amazing anon!: “u should totally write a zuko fic wherein he persuades the reader to fake date him so he could make mai jealous but in the end falls in love w the reader ^-^ i love ur writing btw!!”

Summary: Takes place during season 3, “The Beach”. As the request said, fake dating to make Mai jealous but it backfires. For Zuko that is.

w.c. ~4.3k

.masterlist.

~

You had no clue how you had ended up in your current situation. 

Actually, scratch that. Looking back, you knew exactly how you ended up in your current situation. It was all Zuko’s fault but then again, things usually were.

“Will you be my girlfriend?”

Your breath had caught in your throat at Zuko’s question, and you had to hold back your gasp. “W-What?”

“Will you be my girlfriend?” Zuko had repeated, looking at you hopefully. You had looked at him in surprise, your jaw dropping. After years of crushing on the prince, here he was, asking you to be his. You couldn't believe that he returned your feelings.

“I-I, what?” you had finally stuttered, still gaping at him in disbelief. His gaze focused on someone behind you and a blush bloomed on his cheeks. 

“Please (Y/N). You’re my best friend. I-I want to make Mai jealous and you’re the only one I trust to do this with,” he’d admitted quietly, his eyes never leaving the dark-haired girl.

You followed his line of sight, your heart aching when you realized that he didn’t like you; at least not the way you liked him. With a big sigh, you had pushed down your tears, forcing a smile onto your face.

“It’d be my pleasure to court you, Prince Zuko.”

~

That conversation had taken place a few days ago, but your heartache never lessened. 

It was funny, really. After joining Azula on her quest to track down Zuko, Iroh, and the Avatar, you had planned to confess your feelings for the prince. In your head, it all worked out. It was the stereotypical story of two childhood best friends who grew up, fell in love, and got married. 

But it was never that simple. And now here you were, playing girlfriend to Zuko as you watched him pine for Mai. You were, quite literally, acting out your dream.

What made it worse for you was that Zuko was the perfect boyfriend. He was a good listener and always made sure you were comfortable no matter where you were. He would plan little dates and picnics when he knew Mai would be at the palace and treat you as if you were royalty. You knew your crush had turned into something stronger when even the slightest of touches made your heart race. It was time to stop the act before you got hurt.

Unfortunately the news about you and Prince Zuko spread like wildfire through the palace and soon enough, the entirety of the staff and residents knew. It was too late for you to come out and say it was all a lie because both Ozai and your parents were very pleased with the new relationship. To your parents, your relationship meant that you were set for life. They had always been Ozai’s biggest supporters and your relationship with Zuko only cemented their loyalty to the royal family. For Ozai, he was simply glad that Zuko would be distracted; which was why he suggested that all the teens take a vacation to Ember Island while he met with your parents and the rest of his trusted advisors.

You had been walking through the royal gardens with Mai and Ty Lee when Zuko had jogged up to you. He had greeted you with a short hug before nodding to Mai and Ty Lee.

“You three should get to packing,” Zuko said, causing the three of you to exchange confused glances.

“Why?” Ty Lee chirped, looking at Zuko curiously.

“My father has just told me that we’re going on a vacation to Ember Island,” Zuko replied. “We leave immediately so I suggest you all start packing as soon as possible.”

Ty Lee clapped excitedly, already excited to go to the beach. Mai simply nodded in acknowledgment before smiling lightly at Ty Lee’s excitement. 

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a few things to sort out before we leave,” Zuko said, walking away before doubling back and pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. “I’ll meet you on the ship.”

You nodded wordlessly, a bright blush spreading across your cheeks at his action. You faced your friends, being met with a large grin from Ty Lee and a small smirk from Mai as they observed you. Nodding at the palace’s doors, you began to walk away from them. 

“I’m so glad you two are finally together!” Ty Lee exclaimed as she bounced up to your side. Mai trailed after her quietly. “It’s about time you guys finally confessed.”

You chuckled lightly at her words, glancing at Mai to gauge her reaction. “I guess it was perfect timing.”

“I’ll say,” Mai spoke up, her smirk growing into a tiny smile. “I was getting real tired of watching the two of you pine after each other.”

A laugh escaped your lips as you all split up to go pack. You finished quickly enough, choosing a few casual outfits and a bathing suit to last you for the few days you’d be on the island. On your way to the ferry you bumped into Zuko, who fell into step with you as you boarded the ship.

“So?” he questioned, looking around to make sure you were alone. “Anything? Is she jealous?”

“No,” you said, shaking your head. “I was trying to get a read on her but all she said was that it was about time we got together, whatever that means.”

Zuko groaned softly before leaning against the ship’s railing. “I thought the kiss would surely tick her off. I guess we’ll just have to keep on trying.”

“Zuko,” you said hesitantly, looking away from him. “I-I don’t think we should keep doing this. I mean, it hasn’t worked so far. What makes you think that it’s gonna be any different on Ember Island?”

He looked at you quietly before coming up to you and taking both of your hands in his. “Let’s keep doing this until after the vacation. If nothing changes, then we’ll stop. I promise.”

You bit your lip softly as you thought over his words. Zuko stared at you intently, trying to ignore the way you bit your lip. After a few minutes of contemplation, you nodded slowly. You would only be at Ember Island for a few days, things couldn’t possibly get any more heartbreaking for you. “Ok. I’ll do it for you, Zuko.”

“Perfect timing,” Zuko said, a rare smile on his face. You glanced behind you to see Azula, Mai, and Ty Lee approaching before looking back up at Zuko. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

Zuko slung his arm over your shoulder, pulling you in close as the three girls boarded the ship. The ride to Ember Island was spent with the two of you sitting together on a bench as the three girls whispered amongst themselves, occasionally throwing glances your way.

“So,” Azula finally addressed you, a knowing smirk on her face. “I can’t believe you two are finally together. I always thought Zuzu had a thing for Mai.”

You felt Zuko stiffen up next to you at Azula’s words. You kept a straight face, looking at the younger girl as you panicked internally. Zuko’s arm tightened around you, pulling you in as he pressed a kiss to your temple.

“What are you talking about Azula?” he asked roughly, his eyes never leaving her. “I’ve always had a thing for (Y/N/N).”

“So you guys won’t mind me asking what it is that you like about each other,” Azula said, a very fake smile on her face. “Right? (Y/N/N), you first.”

You exchanged a mildly panicked look with Zuko before answering Azula. It wasn’t like thinking of an answer was hard; the problem was that you were going to be telling Zuko the truth about how you felt about him, even if he thought you were just playing along. You were baring your feelings not only to him, but to his sister and your friends.

“Well,” you began, taking a deep breath and glancing at Azula before refocusing your gaze on Zuko. “He’s attractive-”

“Even with that scar?” Azula asked, a wicked smile on her face as she noticed Zuko’s uncomfortable expression.

“Yes,” you stated firmly and without hesitation. Zuko looked at you in surprise. “He’s attractive even with the scar. But he’s not just physically attractive. He’s kind and sweet and just a little bit of a hothead but it’s kind of endearing. He’s always there for me no matter what and he’s always put my needs above his own, even though my needs are nowhere near as important as his. He’s my best friend and honestly, I like everything about him.”

The ship was silent as Zuko stared at you in awe. There was an unreadable look on Azula’s face before she turned to face Zuko. “Your turn Zuzu. What makes (Y/N) so attractive to you?”

“W-Well she’s pretty, and she has nice...hair?” Zuko said, stuttering for a moment before shaking his head and looking at you. He stared at you for a few seconds before speaking again. “What I mean is, I like (Y/N) because she’s been with me through everything. She made me feel like I was special, even when we were little kids. She always knew just what to say to make me feel better and she was the only one who was ever willing to put up with me no matter what. She’s the only person I truly trust, and that’s why I’ve chosen to trust her with my heart.”

You looked away from his stare when he finished speaking, knowing that what he had said was probably how he felt about Mai. In Zuko’s head, he began to question his feelings for Mai. Sure, what he had said applied to Mai but as he spoke, he began to realize that you were the one he was truly speaking about. He kept his eyes on you as his inner turmoil raged on, only getting worse when you glanced up at him and sent him a soft smile. 

“Well, I have to say, I was a little skeptical about whether or not your little relationship was real or not,” Azula said, clapping her hands twice before turning away from you. “But now I can see that you truly like each other. You have my blessing.”

Zuko scowled at her before speaking. “I wasn’t aware that we needed it.”

Azula waved him off before walking to the railing and looking out at the water. The rest of the trip was spent in silence as everyone did their own thing and you found yourself drifting off to sleep.

~

“It smells like old lady in here,” Zuko complained as you walked into the beach house. 

“Gee, I wonder why,” you replied sarcastically, yawning as Zuko sent you a half-hearted glare. You nudged his shoulder with yours, giving him a teasing smile. He rolled his eyes and wrapped his arm around your waist from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“Who are those beautiful women?” Ty Lee gasped, looking at the hanging painting.

“Can’t you tell?” Lo asked. “It’s Li and me.”

“It’s Lo and me!”

You all grimaced as Lo and Li copied the pose from the painting, Zuko digging his face into your neck to avoid looking at the scene in front of him.

“Zuko, stop,” you whispered, giggling as his hair tickled your neck. He glanced up at you, smiling at your reaction before he continued to do it. You swatted at his arms, desperately trying to get out of his hold. He simply tightened his grip, grabbing your hands to stop you from hitting him. 

He glanced up to see everyone staring at the two of you, loosening his grip when he met Mai’s gaze. He was surprised to see that she didn’t seem annoyed or upset. If anything, she seemed almost happy, watching the two of you with the faintest of smiles. He loosened his grip slightly, allowing you to slip away from him. You bent down to grab your bag, only for Zuko to step in and take it from you. 

“So, there are only four bedrooms,” Azula said, looking around. “(Y/N), Zuzu, you wouldn’t mind sharing one, would you?”

“Not at all, Azula,” Zuko replied instantly. Your eyes widened before looking at Azula and nodding meekly. 

“Great. Let’s go to the beach, I want to have some fun,” Azula said, stalking off. 

You soon found yourself down at the beach, helping Ty Lee as she tried to find the perfect spot to settle down in. Azula was off terrorizing little kids and Zuko was trailing behind you as he walked with Mai. You ignored the pang in your chest as you glanced behind you, instead focusing on the two boys that were now standing in front of you and Ty Lee. 

“Hey, need some help?” one of them asked, taking Ty Lee’s bag.

“Sure! Thanks,” she said, smiling at them. The other boy took your bag as well, setting your towel down besides Ty Lee’s. The two of you sat down next to each other, squinting in the sun. 

“Could you scooch just a little bit to the-” Ty Lee trailed off as the boys moved to block the sun. She sent them a smile and a wink. “Thanks.”

A few yards away, Zuko was sitting next to Mai under an umbrella. He noticed a shell next to him and picked it up, looking at it while he turned it over.

“(Y/N) would like that,” Mai said dully, glancing at the shell.

“What about you?” Zuko asked, meeting her eyes. Mai snorted.

“No way. A dumb shell? I’m not that type of girl,” she replied. Zuko looked at her for a few seconds before tossing it aside. It landed farther than he meant it to, one of the boys that was with you picking it up and examining it before turning to face you.

“Here, this is for you,” the boy said quietly, handing you the shell. You looked at it before placing it down next to you.

“Wow, thanks. It’s beautiful,” you said bashfully, sending the boy a polite smile. 

“Just like you,” the boy replied instantly, bringing a faint blush to your cheeks. 

Mai watched the scene in amusement, noticing the way Zuko tensed up slightly. “Told you she’d like it.”

“Hey beach bums!” Azula called out, standing by the kuai ball net. “We’re playing next.”

You all made your way over to Azula, both you and Ty Lee giving the boys apologetic looks. The game was pretty intense, all because of Azula. At the end, your team was victorious and you were left standing around as Azula gloated to the other team about her victory.

“Hey, I’m having a party tonight,” a boy said, approaching you and Ty Lee with his friend. “You should come by.”

“Sure! I love parties,” Ty Lee chirped. The boy looked at you expectantly.

“Sure, I’ll go,” you said, nodding softly. 

“Your friend can come too,” the boy added, glancing at Mai. 

“What about me and my brother? Aren't you going to invite us?” Azula asked, staring at the two boys. You don't know who we are, do you?”

“Don't you know who we are?” the boy shot back. “We're Chan and Ruon-Jian. But, fine, you're invited. Just so you know, though, some of the most important teenagers in the Fire Nation are gonna be at this party, so try and act normal.”

“We’ll do our best,” Azula replied, smiling sinisterly. 

~

You had arrived at the party way too early. Watching Azula trying to flirt was painful and so you found yourself tucked away in a corner with Zuko, the two of you quietly munching on some food. 

“So, does Mai seem jealous?” you asked quietly, leaning against the wall as more guests began to arrive 

“Kind of? Maybe? I don’t know, it’s hard to tell,” Zuko muttered, his gaze on Mai as she looked around the food table for something to eat. “She was kind of emotionless when we were talking about you but she usually is so I’m not sure.”

You nodded amusedly, glancing around before your eyes landed on Ty Lee being cornered by a group of boys. “Oh no. Sorry Zuko, I’ll be back.”

You darted away, pulling Ty Lee away from the group before she could chi-block them. She gave you a thankful smile before bouncing away making her way to Azula. You turned around to go back to Zuko to find your path being blocked by Chan. 

“Enjoying the party?” he asked, leaning against the wall as he smiled down at you. 

“O-Oh, yeah,” you replied softly, looking around for any of your friends.

“Yeah, I’m known for throwing the best parties,” Chan boasted, leaning down towards you. “How bout I show you around? Give you a tour of the house?”

“No, that’s fine,” you said meekly, meeting Mai’s eyes. She gave you a nod, understanding that you wanted her to come and save you from Chan. Unfortunately, before she could approach you, Ruon-Jian stopped her and began to talk to her. 

“C’mon,” Chan said, placing his hand on your lower back as he guided you away.

“Stop talking to my girlfriend!” 

The room went silent at Zuko’s outburst and you sighed in relief, before turning around and seeing Zuko standing in front of Ruon-Jian. You swallowed harshly as Mai met your eyes, surprise evident on her face as she looked from you to Zuko. Sensing the tension in the air, Zuko glanced towards you, a panicked expression on his face. 

“I told you they weren’t really dating,” Azula scoffed, looking from you to Mai. “Poor (Y/N) likes Zuko but Zuzu here only has eyes for Mai. Fake dating was the furthest she was ever going to get with him.”

Feeling the tears welling up in your eyes, you ducked under Chan’s arm and sprinted out the door. The room burst into chatter as people began to gossip about what had just happened.

“Mai, I-” Zuko began to speak, stopping when Mai held up her hand.

“Zuko, I’m not stupid,” she said blankly. “We all knew you were fake dating, we just wanted to see how far you’d go until one of you would fess up.”

“Then why didn’t you say anything?” Zuko asked, following Mai as she walked outside. 

“Because after the ferry ride, we realized something,” Mai said, turning around and facing Zuko as she came to a stop. “You’re in love with each other.”

“No we’re not,” Zuko argued. “This whole thing started because I wanted to make you jealous.”

“I know,” Mai said, causing Zuko to look at her in surprise. “You’re not exactly subtle. We could tell that your focus wasn’t on her but I’m telling you that after the ferry ride, something changed. Whether you want to admit it or not, you love (Y/N). You said it yourself, she’s the one that’s always been there for you. She’s the one you trust. What you said was true, Zuko. You just don’t want to admit you’re in love with her because you’re afraid of losing her. But trust me, she feels the same way. You have nothing to worry about. Besides, you can’t tell me you don’t feel anything for her, not after seeing the way you were holding her at the beach house.”

Zuko stood in silence for a few minutes, thinking about Mai’s words. She was right, and he knew it. He had loved you since you were children and he had never told you, too afraid of the rejection that would inevitably follow. Mai was simply a replacement for you, as harsh as that was. He had wanted Mai because she was easy and convenient to be with. But you had always held his heart because as he had said earlier, you were the only one who was trustworthy enough to have it. 

“She’s down by the beach,” Mai said, breaking Zuko out of his thoughts. He looked at her questioningly. “She finds it peaceful down there, it’s where she’d go to be alone.”

Zuko nodded, sprinting down the house’s steps before pausing. “Thanks Mai.”

Mai smiled as she watched him sprint away. After many long, long years you were finally going to be together. And if Zuko messed this up, she would personally make sure that he’d regret it.

~

Tears streamed down your face no matter how hard you tried to keep them at bay. You knew that it was a bad idea to go along with Zuko’s dumb plan but you had always had a hard time saying no to the prince. And look where that had gotten you, heartbroken and crying on an empty beach. 

You picked up random rocks and shells, throwing them into the water as you tried to quiet your sobs. A part of you had always hoped that Zuko would wake up and magically fall in love with you but deep down you knew that you would never be the one for him. When you were younger, maybe. But not anymore. Sighing deeply, you sat on the sand, bringing your knees to your chest and crying quietly as the water lapped at your toes. 

You closed your eyes when you felt someone sit next to you, knowing it was probably Ty Lee trying to make you feel better. “Go away Ty Lee. I just want to be alone.”

Ty Lee didn’t answer, instead wrapping an arm around you. You leaned into her embrace, eyes widening when your head landed on a muscular chest. You looked up to meet bright golden eyes and you threw yourself backwards, escaping Zuko’s embrace. 

“What are you doing here?” you asked quietly, putting more space between the two of you. “You should be inside with Mai.”

“Is what Azula said true?” he asked, his voice equally quiet. “You like me?”

“Yes,” you whispered, looking anywhere but him. You could feel his eyes burning into you, causing you to swallow harshly. “Zuko, please. Just go away. Just forget that tonight ever happened. Once we get back to the palace, we can just ignore each other. Just leave me alone.”

“I like you too,” Zuko said, pausing for a few seconds. “Wait no. I don’t like you, I love you.”

You shot him a look, his figure looking slightly blurry due to your tears. “Please don’t make this worse than it already is.”

“I’m serious,” Zuko said, scooting closer to you and brushing away your tears. “Remember the time we were feeding the turtle ducks in the royal gardens and my mom left us to go get more food for them? You pushed me into the pond once she was gone, as payback for the time that I accidentally made you fall out of the palanquin. I was so angry but when I looked up at you, you were laughing and I couldn’t do anything but stare. That’s when I knew I loved you.”

“We were nine,” you snorted, remembering the incident. “We didn’t know what love was. We still don’t.”

“Maybe not,” Zuko replied. “But I know that I felt something for you. After that, every time I saw you I couldn’t breathe right and I couldn’t stop blushing. Trust me, I fell in love with you a long time ago, even if i didn’t know what love was.”

“Then why were you trying to make Mai jealous?” you asked quietly, wanting to believe his words. 

“Because I’m stupid,” Zuko said, chuckling softly. “Because I didn’t think that we could be more than friends. I didn’t think you’d ever like me back so I went after Mai because she was a safe choice. But it’s always been you, (Y/N). And it will always be you.”

You looked at Zuko, seeing nothing but honesty in his eyes. You scooted closer, resting your head on his shoulder as you looked out at the water. “I knew I loved you when I first met you. I had been so scared when my parents had left me with one of the maids. They had a meeting to get to and the maid was leading me to the kitchen to keep me busy. You came out of nowhere, running from Azula as she chased you and you knocked me over. When you held out your hand to help me up, I knew I had a crush on you. You led me to the gardens and you made sure that I was okay and you even stole a cookie from the kitchen for me to apologize for knocking me down. I was a goner.”

Zuko smiled fondly as he remembered the incident. He had been so worried that he had hurt you. Looking down, he saw you smiling contently, still looking out at the ocean. Softly, he grasped your chin, turning your face towards him. You sent him a questioning look, sighing softly when he leaned down and pressed his lips against yours. You tilted your head up, his arm wrapping around your waist and pulling you flush against him. Your hands trailed up his chest, circling around his neck and pulling slightly on his hair. He pulled you onto his lap completely and you shifted, straddling his lap. You felt his tongue swipe at your bottom lip and you opened your mouth, letting him deepen the kiss. You pulled apart after a few more seconds, both of you breathing heavily as you looked at each other with a large smile on your faces. 

“I told you I’d make it up to you,” Zuko whispered. The two of you laughed lightly before he spoke again. “Will you be my girlfriend?” 

Your breath caught in your throat again as you recalled Zuko asking the same question a few days earlier. You leaned down, pressing another kiss to his lips before you answered. 

“It’d be my pleasure to court you, Prince Zuko. This time for real.”

~

taglist!

@musicalkeys, @mywigglybaby​, @bubblebars​, @iguessthefloorislava​, @dekahg​, @boxofteenageideas​, @bottledcotscowater, @butterflycore​, @coldlilheart​, @the-firebender-girl​, @ajediherowitchrunner​, @lammello​, @astroninaaa​, @samsmultifandomblogs​, @sadskater25, @oddment-niwit-blubber-tweak​, @duh-dobrik, @eternallyvenus​,

[arvandus]

Hi there, I hope your doing well I absolutely love your writing I wanted to ask if you could please do a Dabi c S/O with tics/ Turrets. Take your time no rush. I hope everything is well with you and your mental health. Love you bestie ❤️

Thank you anon! Things are well, just getting my life in order before I start work and praying I don’t lose my mind. I had to do some research for this one since I’m a little less familiar with it, so hopefully I’ve done it justice. Thank you for trusting me to handle this topic sensitively for you. :)

Dabi x Reader w/ Tourette's Headcanons

Warnings: None

Word Count: 648

💙 Let’s be honest… the man doesn’t have a lot of tact, and he can be an insensitive, sarcastic ass. So he’s probably going to stare at you when the tics happen, until you finally call him out on it. Then he’ll probably say something blatant like, “What’s with the tics?”

💙 He’s probably not trying to be an ass… at least not this time. His question, while poorly delivered, is genuine, coming from a place of curiosity more than anything.

💙 Being straightforward and honest with him about it is probably the best, if you’re comfortable with it. He’ll probably shrug it off and go about business as usual. After all, the League is full of misfits with variety of mental and physical ailments, himself included. Adding one more won’t make much difference for him.

💙 After that, he stops staring. He got his answer after all, so his curiosity has been satiated.

💙 He won’t make jokes about your Tourette’s and he won’t tease you or insult you about it. In fact, he’ll actually ignore it for the most part, which is a relief for you. It’s always frustrating when you’re trying to interact with someone through your tics and they interrupt your conversation with them to try to point them out or offer ‘advice.’

💙 You two won’t interact very much outside of League business; Dabi’s not one to form attachments, even if he does think you’re easy on the eyes. So your interactions are usually kept brief, which suits you too.

💙 You two won’t really grow close though until he catches you crying after a very frustrating day. Your Tourette’s has been especially bad today, your symptoms made worse by the stress you’ve been feeling. You’re embarrassed at first when he catches you with tears down your cheeks, but much to your surprise he sits next to you and keeps you company. He doesn’t try to hug you or anything… no, that’s way too personal for him at this point. But he will stay with you and might even offer you a drink of water after you’ve calmed down.

💙 If you ask him why he’s being so nice to you, he’ll deny it… but then he’ll comment that he knows what it feels like to have a body that’s fighting against you. He understands it’s not something that you can help, and he knows that feeling of powerlessness that’s always present, lurking beneath the surface, making you feel limited.

💙 After that, his support becomes more regular. If he can tell that you’re feeling stressed again (usually because your tics will flare up more), he’ll suggest you join him for a walk, or go hang out in the quiet of either your room or his. Nothing major, just hang out on his bed and watch some TV until you’re feeling better.

💙 Will probably end with you falling asleep on him at some point, which will take him by surprise.

💙 His support will gradually grow better over time, especially when you have your hard days. Where he wouldn’t even touch you before, now he’s putting an arm around your shoulders, having you lean into him. His still bad with his words, though, so he sits there silently. It helps you, your body relaxing more under his touch, and it leaves you feeling warm.

💙 There will come a time, though… when you’re crying on his shoulder… that he’ll finally hug you, his scarred arms wrapping around you. As your sobs fade to heavy breaths, you’ll feel him kiss the top of your head.

💙 You’ll look up at him, surprise in your eyes, and ask him, “what was that for?”

💙 He’ll give you a small grin. “You seemed like you could use it.”

💙 Then he’ll wipe your tears away with his thumb and kiss the ghost of them from your cheek.

💙 “… And that was because I wanted to.” he’ll say, his grin widening.

[firelxdykatara]

Touching Zuko’s Scar

It’s entirely possible that someone has written meta on this before, and possibly done it better/more eloquently than I’m about to. However, I have Things To Say and I’m going to say them, and hopefully my point comes across! This post is largely spurred on by a few posts I’ve seen in the tags lately which have... rather baffling takes on the whole ‘who touches Zuko’s scar and why’ situation, particularly in regards to feeling the need, for some reason, to diminish the scene in which Katara touches his scar and the importance of that moment for both of them.

From what I can tell, this was done in an attempt to prop up Maiko, which I suppose makes some amount of sense since that is a ship which can barely stand on its own without tremendous amounts of headcanoning to fill in the gaping holes left by the fact that the entirety of their relationship development happened off-screen (and the glimpse we do get into it in the ‘going home’ midquel comic leaves a lot to be desired in terms of why Zuko would even want to be with her, but that’s another discussion entirely). But it still doesn’t quite fit, because the scenes with Katara and with Song are so much more meaningful, both in terms of Zuko’s arc and the way the girls relate to him (and it also ties into Katara feeling so hurt by Zuko’s betrayal, and needing more than any of the others before she can forgive and accept him into the gaang).

Now, that out of the way, I do want to say up front that the intention here is not to be particularly anti Maiko, but to examine the situations in which Zuko’s scar is touched (or almost touched), and the similarities two of these scenes have which are not shared by the third (at which point, you’re obviously free to draw your own conclusions).

Also, please bear with me--I can’t take screenshots or anything, so I’ll reference scenes and the episodes they come from but there won’t be images.

Under a cut bc this got long

To start off, there are three moments in the entire series where a character touches, or tries to touch, Zuko’s scar with her hand. (I say ‘her’ because all three instances occur with girls near Zuko’s own age.) The first moment is in The Cave of Two Lovers, the second episode of book two--this is the moment where Song sees Zuko’s scar, recognizes it for the intentional burn from a firebender that it is, and reaches for it.

Song: Can I join you? I know what you’ve been through. We’ve all been through it. [looks at Zuko’s scar] The Fire Nation has hurt you. [she slowly reaches for his scar, but before she can touch it, Zuko grabs her wrist and stops her; she puts her hand back in her lap] It’s ok. They’ve hurt me too. [pulls up the leg of her pants to reveal the burn scars there]

The second moment comes at the end of book 2, in The Crossroads of Destiny, in a moment that is a deliberate parallel of Zuko’s connection with Song--but this time, he lets Katara touch him.

Katara: [she holds up a vial] This is water from the spirit oasis at the North Pole. It has special properties, so I’ve been saving it for something important. [moves closer to Zuko, standing in front of him] I don’t know if it would work, but... [Zuko closes his eyes, and Katara’s fingers touch his scar; the scene holds there as the music swells, before they’re interrupted]

Like Song did, Katara felt a connection to Zuko via a similar trauma he suffered. However, unlike Song, Katara knew who Zuko was--the banished prince of the Fire Nation, and someone who had been her enemy for most of the past several months. However, she still feels compassion and empathy for him, and it is for this reason that she takes his subsequent choice harder than anyone else in the gaang does (and why it takes more for him to earn her forgiveness).

Now, the third moment is... rather incongruous. There is neither compassion nor understanding involved in touching his scar, there is no real emotional connection, and it comes right on the heels of his girlfriend--someone we’re supposed to believe cares about him and his emotional wellbeing, since they’re in a relationship (which happened off-screen, but I digress)--shutting down his attempt to talk about his feelings, something that will present a conflict in their relationship later on.

Mai: [yawns] I just asked if you were cold, I didn’t ask for your whole life story. [she moves forward, smirking, and then chuckles, putting one arm around his neck and pulling his face towards her with her other hand] Stop worrying. [they kiss, and then Mai walks away, leaving Zuko to stare out at the horizon again; the wiki transcript says he looks relieved, but to me he looks resigned more than anything]

What’s interesting about this moment is, for one thing, it’s unclear if Mai is even supposed to be touching his scar at all. Giancarlo Volpe, the director for this episode, put the original storyboards for the scene up on his DeviantArt, and in them, it seems he was fairly careful to make sure Mai was not touching Zuko’s scar. This would make sense, considering that touching Zuko’s scar was presented as a very big deal--he specifically prevented a girl from touching his scar in the beginning of book 2, and at the end, he allowed another girl to touch him, showcasing vulnerability and trust in that moment. It is the culmination of one small part of his character arc, and that makes the moment that Katara touches his scar even more meaningful.

Of course, I can’t say definitively that it was an animation mistake or something that was deliberately changed during production (which, considering there is a moment later in the book where Bryke mandated a change, isn’t outside the realm of possibility), but it does present interesting implications.

However, even if you take the scene at face value and assume that Mai was intended to be touching his scar....it’s still presented in an entirely different framework than the previous two scenes, despite occurring almost immediately after Zuko’s moment with Katara in the caves (at least as far as episode count).

The different framework being, of course, the fact that it.... doesn’t mean anything at all.

In the first two scenes, Zuko’s scar and his pain--as well as the pain of the girls who are forging an empathic connection with him based on understanding each other’s trauma--is the focus. Touching, or attempting to touch, Zuko’s scar is the point--it is very deliberate, and there’s no way to argue against it because the writing is very explicit, and nothing else would make sense for those scenes. On the other hand, you could take out the moment where Mai touches Zuko’s scar and lose absolutely nothing--because the focus is not on Zuko, but rather on the fact that he was attempting to open up emotionally to his girlfriend (and note that this is the first indication we get in the show that they are together--take out the kiss completely and no one would even know they’re dating, let alone supposedly like one another even as friends), and was shut down with a sarcastic quip, ostensibly because Mai simply didn’t want to hear it. (This is in keeping with her later characterization, where she would much rather distract him and keep him from actually talking about any of his problems, but @araeph goes into the nature of Mai and Zuko’s emotional intimacy [or lack thereof] in much greater detail in this essay, so I won’t get too deep into it here.)

Mai touching Zuko’s scar doesn’t mean anything to the audience because it doesn’t mean anything to Zuko. He doesn’t react to or acknowledge it in any way, it’s as if he doesn’t even notice it happening (perhaps because it wasn’t supposed to? but again that’s speculation), and nothing in the scene would change if it didn’t. It simply doesn’t matter. On the other hand, Song nearly touching Zuko’s scar and then Katara actually touching his scar? They matter to him--and to the show, and therefore the audience--very much. Both moments are incredibly important to Zuko’s overall arc, because together, they show how far he had come in his own emotional journey over the course of the book.

Of course, it isn’t enough to keep him from choosing to side with Azula, because his journey was far from complete--but the fact that he was able to show such trust and vulnerability to a girl who had been his enemy not very long ago? That was huge. Because Zuko didn’t just let Katara touch his scar--he closed his eyes. She could have hurt him in that moment, but he trusted that she wouldn’t. He trusted that she was willing to use special water she’d been saving for something important--and he trusted that, in that moment, he was important to her.

It wasn’t just Zuko showing trust either, though--Katara showed trust in him. She trusted, after a few minutes of conversation and learning about the loss of his mother (and, specifically, the fact that the Fire Nation was responsible for the loss of his mother, just as it was responsible for the loss of hers), that he had changed--that he was different, and she could trust him. She was willing to use the spirit water she’d been carrying around for months on someone who had recently been so much an enemy that she fled from the tea shop, convinced that he’d somehow infiltrated the city and was planning something.

The fact that she trusted him in that moment is exactly why she took his next choice so hard, but it is also why their relationship cemented itself so solidly after The Southern Raiders, giving them quite possibly the strongest relationship in the gaang outside of Katara and Sokka.

Anyway, that was a lot of words for what essentially amounts to this: Song attempting to touch Zuko’s scar in the beginning of book 2 is explicitly paralleled by Katara being allowed to touch his scar at the end of it, and both moments occur during scenes where Zuko’s pain and trauma are acknowledged and validated, and where the person he’s speaking with feels a connection to him because of that shared trauma--because they understand what he has been through. It’s likewise important to note that while Song didn’t actually entirely understand, because she didn’t know who Zuko was or what being traumatized by the Fire Nation actually meant to him, Katara did--and she still was able to feel for him, connect to him, and want to help him.

By contrast, the moment with Mai occurs in a scene where Zuko’s pain and trauma are invalidated and dismissed, where his girlfriend attempts to distract him rather than help him through what is clearly a moment of great emotional turmoil. No, she shouldn’t have to be his therapist, but emotional support is vital in any relationship--especially when one party is traumatized and desperately needs support and love--and it is notably lacking from Maiko, starting from their very first romantic scene together.

Make of that what you will.

[ateezinmymind]

The Answer

Mingi x reader

Angst, fluff ending

tw: mentions and views of self harm, depressive symptoms, long distance relationship, foul language, hospitalization, overdose, kinda cliche — please don’t read if sensitive <3 stay safe

~hopelessly holding on for life, he was the answer

>My dear Mingi, I’m sorry it’s been so long... some things are going on. I don’t want to scare you, I miss and love you so much. I’m waiting.. waiting for you to come home to me. I’m falling out of control, I don’t know what’s to come, but I will fight hard for you... to see you, hopefully soon<

Folding the letter back into its envelope, Mingi looks out the window. Watching the waves crash against the rocks and spray the air with mist, the gray sky do no part in comfort. Sighing out with exhaustion he stands up from his creaking chair, away from the stack of letters sent in from you. It’s been two months since you’ve last seen each other. Two months and he hasn’t felt you. Two months that you’ve been alone and crumbling.

The struggles you’re going through he reads, affected him as well. Looking back to his littered desk, he walks back to reread one particular letter sent 2 weeks ago.

>Mingi, I’m sorry, I messed up bad. Do you remember when I talked about staying safe? I’m so sorry. Mingi please forgive me. I’ll do better. Please don’t leave me, I’ll fix it. Please just don’t hate me. I miss you, I can’t help myself. What I feel is getting worse and worse. I miss you more everyday, and I can’t help but feel I’m making you drift further away from me...I love you<

Wiping his face of warm tears, Mingi slams his fists into the desk. “Fucking hell y/n, why” buckling to the floor he sobs out in agony. He needed you to hang on for just a little longer, just a little more and he’d get you. Blaming himself for the fact you’re hurting made him feel broken..why did you do this. Why did you think he was going to leave? Never had he thought of running away from this. He loved you then and loves you still..but he can’t do anything to save you.

———

It’s so gray, the sky. The roses Mingi gave you the last day you saw him, are now all dried up and falling apart from the touch. Getting off the bed, making your way into the bathroom turning on the luminescent light bringing a stare to yourself. Putting your arm down, you wince in discomfort. The tears pricking your eyes before now threaten to leave their hiding.

Using one arm you pull off your shirt, up and over your head, bringing your gaze to the littered scars on your skin. “What the fuck have I done…” crying out loud, you look away from the mirror and down to your arm. Droplets of tears falling onto the flesh. You were hopelessly holding on, pretending this would bring him back sooner.

Turning on the shower, you sit on the toilet seat waiting for it to warm up. Was Mingi going to come back to you? Is what he writes in his letters what he really feels? Is this all a joke? Pulling yourself up you get rid of your bottoms and get in the water. Hoping all this would wash away

———

Mingi thought sending letters to each other would be better for you..to be a way to distract you from the negative aspects you might be troubled from. Things always went downhill when he had to go, no matter how hard you both tried it just happened. But by far this is the furthest you’ve gone. The furthest you’ve done to try and bring him back sooner. Mingi was breaking himself over it..

The meer fact you needed him for happiness, made him feel drained. His health became worse and worse as yours did..meals tasted like a flavorless paste, he couldn’t focus on his work. He was sleeping less and less, thinking on and on of what you’ll do next. And how bad it’ll be, praying you weren’t going to do something terribly stupid and regretful.

During your nights, waking up with urges for a distraction either ended with pain coursing through your arms or pain through words to send away. Writing the letters, the letters full of darkness that was overwhelming at times did nothing but worsen your feelings. Maybe it was rereading your sick words, making you feel more helpless and weak. Why would Mingi even want to stay with you, why would anyone love someone who was losing themselves? You couldn’t help but ponder the hope for help..was this capable of healing?

———

~4 months~

>My love, y/n..I’m writing this letter to you with my heart. I understand you haven’t written me back in awhile, I’m praying you’re feeling well. Things have been rocky over here, but I see the end. Y/n, the end of this is coming, happiness is coming. There’s been talk around, and it’s a possibility that I’ll be able to move back. Isn’t that wonderful?! I miss you very much. My favorite flower, you are the love of my life. Sending these with this letter to give you a reminder for the times you aren’t able to realize your worth. Please take care..I’ll see you soon<

Mingi had sent that 3 weeks ago and things were numb..you couldn’t find the strength to write him back. Pulling the jewelry out of the envelope, the rose charm dangling with its ruby glow, you fall into your bed holding it close to your heart. “Why is love so hard?” Closing your eyes, hoping to release this exhaustion just for awhile..head pounding you can’t find a break. Opening your eyes, your body beams straight to your bathroom..controlling itself you reach for the prescribed medication sent in by someone you don’t even remember. You don’t remember who they were, you were forgetting who you were. Nothing felt right, waves kept crashing into you..but there was no help from drowning. And the next thing you knew the tide washes it’s darkness over you.

———

“Y/n I think you are being silly, I love you more..there’s actually no way you can have love more than mine”

“You are the silly one to say such things, you know it too Mingi.. everyone knows it, my love for you is indescribable”

Scoffing out in disagreement, the both of you lean into each other’s embrace. Mingi wrapping his arms around your frame, fills you with warmth and safety. You have him, Mingi, he’s yours. Here. Now. Don’t waste it.

Then just outside the window, the crashing waves rise once again..and you remember, Mingi isn’t with you.. none of this is real. Was his love even real? Did you make it all up for a distraction? It’s too late. The ocean crashes through the window and fills the room with it’s cold water. Knocking you down, screaming, squirming, you kick for air. Clutching your neck, scratching for the feeling of the wind to fill your lungs—

———

“Y/n!!”

Jerking awake, eyes dart around the white ceiling tiles. The smell of sanitation and the sound of beeping fill you with stress. What happened? So many questions race your mind..but are all driven away when a squeeze comes to your hand.

“Y/n??”

Looking forward, it’s Mingi..he’s here. With you. Not sure what happened, not sure if this is even real. Tears streaming down his face erupt your own. “Y/n, I thought I lost you..” choking out Mingi throws himself into you. Shaking your frame with his involuntary sobs, everything is moving so fast. All slows when you wrap around him. Time stops, right here, right now all is okay. You’re okay, you’re going to be okay. Mingi is here. Now you know the truth, anything could happen. But you know it’s going to be okay.

“Y/n you scared me so much..w-when I saw you.. I thought you were gone. I thought you weren’t coming back to m-me” releasing you, he looks at you with his tired, puffy and red eyes.

“You look terrible”

Apart from your croaking voice, you bring a smile upon your wet face. Making Mingi burst out in a crying laugh

“You’re back”

———

Holding each other’s hands, opening the front door to your apartment you see everything is cleaned. Different from what you thought before, when Mingi turned on the light, it wasn’t as aggressive as you remembered. Entering the room, the smell of line-dried linens with hints of fresh fruit and spring fill your nose. It’s comforting, this is the comfort of your home..why didn’t you realize it before?

You’ve been so hidden away in your own mind, that the blessings around you weren’t meeting you. How come Mingi brought this all back? How come you only realized this when he’s here?

“I brought you fresh roses y/n, but this time there here because I’m staying. I won’t be leaving again” wrapping his arms around your body, you melt into his chest. “I promise”

Standing there in each other’s embrace you break the silence, “Mingi, do you think I’m a freak?” Breaking away, you look into his eyes. His expression confused and shocked, lifting his hands to cup your face Mingi leans in and places his forehead to yours. “Y/n” seeing the corners of his mouth twitch and his bottom lip wobble, you close your eyes and bring your hands over his. “I would never think of you as something that you’re not even capable of being.” Feeling his lips land on yours, so soft, like a pillow, comforting and right. Kissing him back, you two dance with love.

“You aren’t a freak” letting go of your face and reaching down to your arms. Pulling your sleeves up, feeling the rigid bumps over your skin. He soothingly rubs his thumbs over the marks and kisses you again. “You’re so strong, and you just were in need of direction” folding your sleeves back down he continues, “you were just a bit lost, but it’s okay...because you found the answer y/n...and there’s no need for your pain any longer”

Pulling you towards your bedroom, he picks you up and lays you on the bed. “I’m with you forever...my love, there will be no more worry”

———

He needed to remind you every time available, that you were his life. If you were gone, so was he. Mingi didn’t ever want to think about you laying there lifeless on the bathroom tiles again, his heart stopped..

He was your answer, but you were his life. You were the oxygen he breathed.

You two were meant to be each other’s source of completion.. and together you two knew things would be okay..

[crying-in-a-stall]

Incorrect Sanders Sides

Virgil: Who the fuck added me to a fucking group chat? Roman: >:O language Patton: Yeah watch your fucking language Janus: OKAY WHO TAUGHT PATTON THE FUCK WORD? Roman: 'The fuck word'. Logan: Are you stupid? You guys use the f word all the time Roman: Oh my god they censored it Remus: Say fuck, Logan. Virgil: Do it, Logan. Say fuck.

Virgil: Well, aren’t you all a rag-tag group of adventurers with unclear goals and good hearts! Oh, let me guess: you’re out to save the world! Roman: Well, actually, that sounds like a pretty fair assessment. Janus: More or less, I guess... Patton: That sounds awesome! Let’s do that! Remus: I’m new here, but I am open to the concept. Logan: I thought that’s what we were doing, guys, come on!

Roman: Hewwo. Patton: Hihiiiiii! Logan: Greetings, Humans. Janus: Three kinds of people. Virgil: I want pudding. Janus: Four kinds of people. Remus: WHAT’S UP FUCKERS? Janus: Five kinds of people.

Logan: Just be yourself. Virgil: 'Be myself'? Logan, I have one day to win Roman over. How long did it take before you guys started liking me? Patton: Couple weeks. Remus: Six months. Janus: Jury’s still out. Virgil: See, Logan? Virgil: 'Be myself'. What kind of garbage advice is that?

Virgil: Croissants; dropped Roman: Road; works ahead Remus: BBQ sauce; on my titties Patton: Shavacado; fre Janus: Miss Keisha; fuckin dead Logan: Logan, grumpy: I didn’t understand a single word of that and I hate every single one of you.

Patton: We need to distract these guys Remus: Leave it to me Remus: Centaurs have six limbs and are therefore insects. Discuss. Logan, Roman, and Janus: *Immediately begin arguing* Virgil, watching in horror: Oh this. I don’t like this. I don't like this at all.

Virgil: Rules are made to be broken. Logan: They were made to be followed. Nothing is made to be broken. Patton: Uh, piñatas. Remus: Glow sticks. Janus: Karate boards. Roman: Spaghetti when you have a small pot. Virgil: Rules. Logan: …

Logan: Dumbest scar stories, go! Roman: I burned my tongue once drinking tea. Patton: I dropped a hair dryer on my leg once and burned it. Remus: I have a piece of graphite in my leg for accidentally stabbing myself with a pencil in the first grade. Janus: I was taking a cup of noodles out of the microwave and spilled it on my hand and I got a really bad burn. Virgil: … Virgil: I have emotional scars.

Logan: Anyone d- Virgil: Depressed? Roman: Drained? Patton: Dumb? Remus: Disliked? Janus: Distrusted? Logan: -done with their work... what is wrong with you people …

Patton: Imagine if someone handed you a box full of all the items you have lost throughout your life Virgil: Self-esteem, haven't seen you in years! Janus: Oh wow, my childhood innocence! Thank you for finding this! Roman: I knew I lost that potential somewhere! Remus: My moral code, is that you? Logan: ... Patton: I was just gonna show you this cool trunk my mother left me but do you guys need a hug?

Janus: Nothing in life is free. Patton: Love is free! Roman: Adventure is free. Logan: Knowledge is free. Virgil and Remus at the same time: Everything is free if you take it without paying.

Patton: What does 'take out' mean? Logan: Food. Roman: Dating Virgil: Murder Remus: IT CAN MEAN ALL THREE IF YOU'RE NOT A COWARD.

Remus: I’ve done a lot of dumb stuff. Janus: I witnessed the dumb stuff. Virgil: I recorded the dumb stuff. Patton: I joined in on the dumb stuff. Logan: I TRIED TO STOP YOU FROM DOING THE DUMB STUFF!!!

Janus: What did you guys get in your yearbook? Roman: 'Prettiest Smile' Patton: 'Nicest Personality' Remus: 'Most likely to start a bar fight' Virgil: 'Least likely to start a bar fight, but most likely to win one'

Logan: There are seven chairs and ten kids. What do you do? Virgil: Have everyone stand. Patton: Bring three more chairs! Janus: The most important ones can sit down. Remus: Kill three.

Logan: Good morning. Patton: Good morning. Roman: Good morning. Thomas: You all sound like robots, try spicing it up a bit. Virgil: MORNING MOTHERFUCKERS

Patton: What if the person who named Walkie Talkies named everything? Remus: Pregnancy tests are Maybe Babies Janus: Socks are Feetie Heaties Virgil: Forks are Stabby Grabbies Remus: Defibrillators are Heartie Starties Virgil: Nightmares are Dreamy Screamies Janus: Stamps are Lickie Stickies Logan, annoyed: You are disappointments Roman: Why isn’t the statue smirking at me? Logan: It isn’t smirking at anyone, they’re all just imagining it. Patton: Three of us saw it, Logan. How do you explain that? Logan: *points at Janus* Sleep deprivation. *points at Virgil* Paranoia. *points at Remus* Delusional personality disorder. And you just believe everything, Patton.

Janus: Favorite horror movie? Remus: It Logan: Saw Roman: Annabelle Virgil: High School Musical. After watching it I spent all my middle school years terrified that the entire school would start singing something and I’d be the only one who didn’t know the lyrics

Virgil: We need more help. Maybe I should call my friends. Remus: ... Your what? Virgil: My friends. Janus: Are they saying “friends”? Remus: I think they're being sarcastic. Janus: No, no, no, this is delirium, they've cracked from being awake all night. Hey, Virgil! All of your friends are in this room. Virgil: I have other friends! You asked me to make new friends, I made new friends! It was a task. I complete tasks.

Patton, trying to convince Virgil to join the group: You know... I thought it'd be good to have someone come along who's really... strong! Roman: And grumpy! Logan: And oblivious to reality! Virgil: …

Roman: You lying, cheating, piece of shit! Virgil: Oh yeah? You’re the idiot who thinks you can get away with everything you do. WELCOME TO THE REAL WORLD Roman: I’m leaving you, and I’M TAKING PATTON WITH ME Logan, picking up the monopoly board: I think we’re gonna stop playing now.

*Patton is cooking* Roman: Any chance that’s for me? Patton: It’s for Logan. I’m planning on making some bad choices tonight, and I need them on my side. Virgil: I never realized the forethought that went into being a disappointment.

Patton: Hey, is Roman sleeping or dead? Virgil: Hopefully dead, I hated their guts. Logan: Yeah, so did I. Roman: Okay first of all, fuck you-

Virgil: Is stabbing someone immoral? Janus: Not if they consent to it. Remus: Depends who you’re stabbing. Logan, who was dragged into the dark sides meeting: YES?!?

Janus: Self care is actually getting into fights with randoms in dark alleys. Patton: No, self care is stuff like taking a bubble bath, or putting on a lot of makeup if you like it, or taking a nice warm nap! Logan: Self-care is any necessary human regulatory function which is under individual control, deliberate and self-initiated. Janus: Self care is the burning heat when rage washes over you!! Virgil: Self care is when you feel the bones crack under your powerful fists!! Roman: Self care is the fear in your enemies’ eyes!!! Remus: Lmao self care is taking your birthday cake just so I can eat the frosting. Patton: If you touch my birthday cake I’ll make you eat your hands.

Roman: You are now one day closer to eating your next plate of Nachos. Logan: That's the most hopeful thing I've ever heard. Virgil: But what if I die tomorrow and never eat any Nachos? Patton: Then tomorrow is nacho lucky day.

Roman, banging on the door: Virgil! Open up! Virgil: Well, it all started when I was a kid... Logan: No, they meant- Patton: Let them finish.

Janus: Come on, I wasn’t that drunk last night. Virgil: You were flirting with Remus. Janus: So what? They're my partner. Remus: You asked me if I was single. Virgil: And then you cried when they said they weren't.

Store Worker: Would a ‘Janus’ please come to the front desk? Janus, arriving at the desk: Hello, is there a problem? Store Worker: points to Remus and Virgil Store Worker: I believe they belong to you? Remus and Virgil, simultaneously: We got lost :( Janus: I didn’t even bring you guys here with me-

Janus, driving Remus and Virgil: So how was your day? Remus: We almost got surprise adopted! Janus: What? Virgil: We almost got kidnapped. Janus: Oh, okay. Janus: *slams on the breaks* WAIT WHAT?!

Janus: Sometimes I drink milk straight out of the container. Remus: The cow??? Janus: What? Virgil: Remus, W H Y?

Roman: Virgil, my old arch enemy. Remus: ... I thought I was your arch enemy? Roman: I have a life outside of you, Remus.

Remus: How's the sexiest person here~? Janus: I don't know, how are they~? Remus, flustered: I- Virgil, from across the room: I'm doing great, thanks!

Patton: Are you the big spoon or the little spoon? Virgil: I'm a knife. Roman, from across the room: They're the little spoon.

Roman: So, what, now I’m just supposed to do anything that Logan does? I mean, what if they jumped off a cliff? Patton: If Logan were to jump off a cliff, they would’ve done their due diligence regarding the height of the cliff, the depth of the water, and the angle of entry, so yes. If you see Logan jump off a cliff, by all means, jump off a cliff. Roman: You jump off a cliff! Patton: Gladly. Provided Logan did first.

Janus: I know you snuck out last night, Remus. Virgil: Play dumb! Remus: Who's Remus? Virgil: NOT THAT DUMB!!!

Roman: Fitness tip, never stop pushing yourself. Logan: Some say 8 hours of sleep is enough. Why not keep going? Virgil: Why not 9? Why not 10? ]Janus: Strive for greatness. Roman: Next time you’re working out do 15 push ups instead of 10. Run 3 miles instead of 2. Patton, from the background: Eat a whole cake instead of just a slice. Remus from the background: Burn your ex’s house down. Roman: You can do it. I believe in you. Thomas: There were so many mixed messages in that I can’t-

Remus: I can’t believe you live nearby, and you won’t let anyone crash at your place. Virgil: You people already know too much about me. Janus: I know exactly three facts about you, and one of them is that you won’t let any of us crash at your place.

Virgil: Janus, can I talk to you for a second? Janus: Yeah, what’s up? Remus: Lemme guess. You and Roman are having problems and you want me to teach you how to kiss? Virgil: What? No, stop that. I know how to kiss. I’ve read books.

Remus: In my defense, I was left unsupervised. Janus: Wasn't Virgil with you? Virgil: In my defense, I was also left unsupervised.

Remus: Okay, help me please! Virgil: Got two words for you. Janus: I bet they won't be helpful. Virgil: Your problem. Janus: I was right

Virgil: So are we flirting right now? Roman: I AM LITERALLY STABBING YOU Virgil: That doesn’t answer my question

Patton: Where are you going? Remus: To get ice cream or commit a felony, I’ll decide on the way there Patton: Can you get me a strawberry cone? Janus: Can you kill Virgil? Virgil: Can you kill Roman? Roman: Can you kill Janus? Logan: Can you not commit a felony?

Logan: It’s dark in here Patton: Don’t worry fam, I got this Patton: *Stomps their feet* Patton: *Sketchers light up*

Logan: So what do you do? Janus: I work in genetic research, and I'm currently trying to eliminate all Cancers. Logan: Wow, impressive. Janus: Then I'll move on to Leos.

Remus: Don’t worry, I have a few knives up my sleeve. Roman: I think you mean cards. Remus, pulling knives out of their sleeves: No, I do not.

Virgil: We went through an entire character arc during quarantine Janus: We all became more evil if you’re curious Patton: We're still in quarantine, don't worry, there's time for a redemption arc still! Remus: I’m going to get worse on purpose

Patton: Am I in trouble? Logan: Take a guess. Patton: No? Logan: Take another guess.

Patton: Oh just so you know, it's very muggy outside Roman: *holding in a laugh* Logan: Patton, I swear, if I step outside and all of our mugs are on the front lawn... Virgil: *Sips coffee from bowl*

Virgil: You kill people for money?! Virgil: Can I pay you? Janus: Virgil no- Remus: And all this time I’ve been doing it for free like a chump!

Roman: What are your goals? Thomas as Patton: To pet all the dogs. Logan: No, fitness goals. Thomas as Patton: To be able to run fast enough to pet all the dogs.

Patton: I've already sent good vibes your way… they’re coming. There’s nothing you can do to stop them. Virgil: This is the most threatening way I’ve ever been cheered up.

Virgil: Name a more iconic duo than my crippling fear of abandonment and my paranoia. I'll wait. Patton’s Card: FAM - ILY Virgil, tearing up: Okay.

Logan: I actually have a black belt. Roman: In what, karate? Logan: No, from Gucci.

Remus: Am I going too far? Janus: No, no, no. You went too far about seven hours ago. Now you're going to prison.

Patton, motioning to a Halloween display: All these ghosts! All these ghosts! I still can’t find a boo. Logan: Babe, I’m right here.

Remus: You think I really give a fuck? I can’t even read.

Virgil: Okay okay stop asking me if I'm straight, gay, bi, whatever. I identify as a FUCKING THREAT. Roman, from across the room: You tell ‘em, babe!

Roman: You can de-escalate any situation by simply saying, 'Are we about to kiss?' Remus: Doesn't work for getting out of speeding tickets, by the way.

[gothighunicorntolerance]

Baited

Logan is kidnapped by the Dragon Witch, a notorious super villain.

AO3

Putting his laptop in his bag, Logan stood from behind the librarian’s desk. 

“Bye, Logan!” His coworker Patton said. “Have a nice day!”     ��Goodbye, Patton. You as well,” Logan slung his bag over his shoulder and started walking to where his car was parked, behind the public library where he worked. Stopping to fish his car keys out of his pocket, his thoughts briefly wandered to his boyfriend, Roman, who would probably be finishing up his shift at the restaurant he worked at.  When Logan got home to their apartment, they would change and then go out to dinner- they had been planning tonight for a few weeks now, and though Logan wouldn't admit it to anyone except Roman, he was quite honestly very excited. 

Right as Logan found his keys after checking all his pockets, he heard footsteps behind him. It was likely Patton, though he new Patton didn’t normally leave until later-

Before he could turn around, a pair of hands clapped over Logan’s mouth, muffling the shriek that escaped his lips.

He struggled, trying to shake off his attacker, but they were too strong. Logan was kicked to the ground from behind, someone still holding him. His head hit the asphalt and his vision became blurry- he was now just dimly aware of his hands being bound together.

He now lay helpless on the ground, his cheek and glasses pressing into the concrete, a knee on his back. 

“Get him to the boss,” someone said before a cloth was pressed over his mouth and nose. His vision blackened as hands grabbed him around the waist and started dragging him away from his car, away from tonight’s dinner plans. 

Roman sat on the couch, looking at his phone and waiting for Logan’s text that he was heading home. As the hours ticked by, Roman became increasingly worried. If Logan was staying late, wouldn’t he text? It wasn’t like Logan to miss or forget plans, so what was the hold up? He and Logan had been planning this dinner for weeks, and their reservation was in half an hour! 

Roman bit his thumb, a nervous habit that Logan was trying to get him to stop, and decided to call his boyfriend. Even though Logan was very strict about his rule that he had his phone on silent while working, surely he would pick up, right? 

    Roman took a deep breath and pressed the call button. It rang once, twice, and Roman mouthed “please answer, please answer, please answer…”

    He answered! 

“Logan! Hey, I was getting worried! Are you staying late?”

“If you want to see him again, you’ll come to number 7 Sanders Street. Be there in an hour or he goes. You will not tell anyone you have received this message, and you will come alone.” 

    The voice that replied wasn’t Logan’s, but it was a familiar one nonetheless. 

“You! Dragon Witch! What did you do with him!?” Roman shouted into the phone, already jumping off the couch.

“You’ll have to find out,” she crooned. “Be there. I’m waiting.” 

She hung up the phone and Roman let out a grunt of anger. How could he have been so stupid? He should have protected Logan better, he should have never made so many enemies! 

Logan blinked his eyes, and for a moment thought he was still asleep. He sat alone in a pitch black room. He tried to stand, but found himself tied to a chair, handcuffs on his ankles and hands, the other end attached to the metal chair. He tried to shout for help, but all that came out was a pathetic “mhph!”, the duct tape digging into his lips. 

And to make it truly impossible for him to escape, a rope was wrapped around his torso, tying him to the back of the chair. 

Suddenly a ray of light fell on his face as a door opened and someone walked in. 

Though he had never seen them in person, he knew exactly who just walked in. 

She stepped closer to Logan, dragging a talon across his forehead. When she pulled away, something dripped down the claw- blood. 

She smirked and, without warning, ripped off the tape that served as Logan’s gag. 

“Dragon Witch,” Logan spat through his stinging, swollen lips. 

A grin spread across her face. “Oh, you recognize me! I was sure I had to do some introduction!”     “Why am I here?” Logan snarled. “Let me go.” 

“Let you go? No, I don’t think I can do that. And as for why you’re here? Well, from what I hear, you’re very smart. So you should be able to figure it out.”

“Wha-” Logan was cut off by her hand covering his mouth- something he was getting very tired of people doing to him. 

Another piece of tape covered his mouth, this one much larger than the last, almost covering his ears that he now realized were not supporting his glasses. 

The Dragon Witch turned around, her cape flourishing behind her. Before she closed the door and left Logan in the dark, she looked over her shoulder and looked at him.     “Oh, and for your sake, I hope you boytoy comes for you.” 

As the door locked with a click, suddenly everything came into place. 

The odd bruises Roman came back home with. The odd scars Logan saw on Roman’s back. And Logan knew who he was here. 

He was bait for The Prince, the superhero who was also his boyfriend. 

    Roman drove, his heart pounding. The only thing he could think of was Logan- how afraid he must be, how angry Logan would be if he found out that Roman, of all people, was a superhero! Roman had planned on telling Logan, honestly! He just… was afraid of what Logan would say! But now Roman drove to 7 Sanders Street with his only fear being that Logan would be hurt. 

    He parked the car a block away and climbed up a fire escape. He would enter the building from above, find Logan, and get out, hopefully without confronting her. His cape dragged behind him and his mask was already sweaty from his anxiety for his boyfriend- oh, if he ever saw that damn Dragon Witch, he wouldn’t go easy on her! 

    Sparks flew out of Roman’s clenched fist, and he took a deep breath. What was Logan always saying? 

Be calm, or else things can go wrong. Anger can figuratively cloud your judgement.

Right, Roman had to be calm. “Logan, I’m coming,” he whispered. “Just hang on, my love.” 

Roman leapt across buildings, illuminated only by the moonlight, until he was on the roof of number seven. He opened the door that led to the rooftop and began his descent, his only light source a spark of electricity held between his fingers. 

He silently trod through the warehouse, looking for any sign that Logan was here. 

If he was the Dragon Witch, where would he keep his prisoners? He shuddered to think that Logan was a prisoner, but thought where he would be anyways. 

Of course! The most central room at the top story- it would be the most secure room, and surely she would be expecting him to charge in from the front door! 

Roman made his way toward the middle, and listened for any signs of struggle. 

There- a faint noise behind one of the doors! 

Roman closed his hand around the door handle and searched for a sign of life- he was able to find heartbeats after he learned from Logan that every human being gives off a small amount of electricity! 

And there it was! A heartbeat! 

Roman slowly opened the door, his other hand ready to blast electricity at anyone who wasn’t Logan. 

But there, in the center of the room, tied to a metal chair, was Logan, his head slumped to his chest. 

Roman rushed in and knelt beside him. 

“Lo?” He whispered, touching Logan’s cheek. “Lo, it’s me, please look at me!” Roman said tearfully. 

Logan’s eyes fluttered open and then widened in surprise. 

“Lo, I’m going to get you out of here. Nod if you understand. Logan nodded. 

“Okay. Okay, this is going to hurt a bit. I love you so much,” Roman said, peeling the tape off Logan’s mouth and cringing as he saw the extent of Logan’s injuries: a bloody lip, a black eye, and a cut on his forehead as well as a multitude of bruises on his arms and neck. 

“R-Roman, I-”

“Logan, I’m so, so sorry I didn’t tell you sooner-”     “It's okay, love. We’re going to talk later,” Logan said hoarsely. 

Roman nodded and began untying the rope around Logan’s torso. With the rope gone, Roman saw the next problem. Everything else was metal- the chair, the handcuffs that held Logan down still, and even the floor. 

It was as if the room had been designed to keep Roman from using his powers. And, knowing the Dragon Witch, it probably had. 

Logan noticed his hesitation, because he said, “Roman, what’s wrong?” Roman could hear the twinge of fear in his voice. 

“I- I don’t want to hurt you,” Roman hesitated. 

“What can you do?”     Roman looked away. “I’ve said too much already, and you probably figured out the rest… but I generate electricity, and- and everything here is metal.” 

“Oh.” Was all Logan said. “Well, that explains the static.” 

“Logan! I’m going to hurt you if I use my power, and you’re going to get even more hurt if I leave you here!” Roman was close to full tears now- he couldn’t see a good solution! 

Logan thought for a minute. “Take my shoes off.”     “W-what?” That was not what Roman was expecting to hear. 

“Take my shoes off,” Logan repeated. “My socks, too. Then I need to put my feet on the floor, and then any electricity you use will be conducted by the metal and away from me.”

“Okay. Okay, Lo, I swear I am going to get you out of here. I love you so much.” 

“I love you too, Roman. Now stop wasting time and do it.”

Roman did as instructed and looked to Logan. 

“Don’t tell me when you do it, I need to be relaxed. Now come on, Ro,” Logan closed his eyes as Roman put his hands on the cuffs, ready to spark. 

Concentrating on the cuffs, Roman pictured electricity running through the chains to the locking mechanism, forcing the pins to open. And with a click, the locks around Logan’s wrists sprung open. 

Logan stood from the chair, though his ankles were still bound. 

“One more, Lo,” Roman crouched, putting his hands on the other set of cuffs, and with another click, the cuffs fell off. 

“Can you stand?” Roman asked, holding out a hand.

“I think so-“ Logan got to his feet but collapsed with a quiet shriek.

“What’s wrong?”

“My- my knee-“

“That’s okay, I’ll carry you out of here if I have to,” Roman said. 

“Ro-” Logan was cut off by a shriek. 

“You!” Roman turned around to face the Dragon Witch. “You did this to him!” 

Logan, his knee still injured, stumbled back into the chair as he watched the confrontation with a mixture of fear and awe. How could he be so lucky to be in love with someone who was so fearless? Who would face injury or death to protect him? 

The Dragon Witch unfurled her leathery black wings as Roman’s hands crackled with electricity. 

Roman took a step backwards and put himself in front of Logan, ready to Leo in front of anything aimed at his boyfriend, his love, at the nerdy librarian he was so lucky to have seen that night….

Her wings flapped, a gust of wind blowing Logan’s hair in his eyes. Her taloned fingers began to move in a circle, black mist sprouting from around her. 

Then, before Logan could react to the burst of light shooting from the Dragon Witch, he was being thrown over Roman’s shoulder. 

Roman sprinted out of the small room, the Dragon Witch right behind them. Roman ran up the stairs the way he had come, but all too late he realized the flaw in his plan.

He wouldn’t be able to jump around the rooftops and carry Logan at the same time. 

Logan saw his hesitation, and, as Logan was prone to do, came up with a plan. “Roman. The authorities, while utterly useless, always come to the fights they think are going to cause collateral or infrastructural damage, right?”     “Yeah, but I don’t see what that has to do with getting you out of here!” Roman shouted back, still running. 

“It means you need to put me down and fight her! Then the police will come and take me to the hospital or something! I’ll say I got in the way of her plan or something, so she took me to this warehouse and then you saved me!”

Roman realized that Logan was right, as he usually was. 

“You might get hurt!” Roman had reached the rooftop, the Dragon Witch still thundering after them. 

“I know. But that’s a risk we have to take if we want to get out of here,” Logan explained, cupping Roman’s cheek as he was set down by some discarded wooden pallets. 

Roman turned to face the witch as she climbed up to meet them. 

“Dragon Witch,” Roman said with more anger than Logan had ever heard. “You hurt him. You will pay for this!”

“Will I, now?”     She lunged at Roman, the black mist gathering again. A bolt of electricity shot out of Roman’s palm, striking her in the wing. She howled in pain, forcing Logan to clamp his hands over his ears. He watched with a morbid fascination as flurries of blows were exchanged, each landing hits on the other. 

Roman’s fist connected with her shoulder while her talons scratched his arm, blood dripping onto the concrete roof. Angling himself into a sitting position behind the pallets, he clenched his jaw as he heard sirens approaching from below. 

“Hey! Up here! Help!” Logan shouted, peering over the edge and waving his hands. A firefighter looked up in horror and began to run inside while another started to set up a ladder. The Dragon Witch looked over and let out a yell of fury. As Roman, unaware, readied another bolt, the witch dove in front of Logan just as Roman let the bolt go. 

Logan couldn’t move, only seeing it come towards him. The white hot energy crackled through the air as it pummeled toward Logan. 

It hit him square in the chest, the electricity spreading out through his arms and legs. The tingling sensation spread until he was numb all over and his eyes closed, but not before seeing Roman’s screaming face. 

***

Logan woke in a hospital bed, IV tubes and heart monitors and other medical equipment in and on him. 

The first thing he registered was the beeping, and not a moment later a group of nurses came in. The next hour was a blur of activity, of being asked questions like what did he remember (he was on the rooftop, watching the fight), who’s the president (that orange asshole, but not for long!), and who he wanted to see. 

The last question was the only one he truly paid attention to. 

“Roman,” he said. “I want to see Roman.” 

A minute- or perhaps an hour- later, a nurse came in, followed by Roman, red eyed and disheveled looking. 

Roman gasped and ran to his side. 

“Logan, I-”

“Ro. Roman, I love you so much. C’mere,” Logan put his hand over Roman’s.

“Logan, Logan! I thought I lost you, and I couldn’t live with myself if I had. It would have been my fault, and I love you too much to ever be able to let go. Starshine, I love you so, so much. I love you more than there are stars in the sky.”     Roman began crying again, and Logan put a hand on his face to wipe away the tears. 

“It’s not your fault, Love. Please don’t blame yourself.”

“But Logan, I hurt you!” 

“No, no you didn’t. You saved me, Roman. If you hadn’t come, I would still be tied up in that dark room, and I wouldn’t know where you are. But I’m here with you, and that’s what matters to me. Now stand up and kiss me, you sap.”

Roman knelt over the hospital bed and met Logan’s chapped lips. Never had he been so glad that he was kissing his boyfriend, his Starshine, the love of his life. 

And in that moment, Roman resolved that nothing, nothing would ever lay a hand to hurt Logan ever again. 

And in that moment, Logan knew that Roman would do anything for him, and he would do anything for Roman. 

“I love you so much,” they murmured against each others’ lips.