#i made kira sharper

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Salvation a Scream Away

Bones in the Ocean Masterlist

For @amonthofwhump 12 days of Whumpmass, Day 6: Jack Frost | Post-apocalyptic Winter | Amnesia | Comfort turned to Fear | Comfort: Snowball Fight and Day7: Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer | Inhuman Whumpee | Exile | Self-sacrifice | Comfort: You’re Not Alone

-

Kira woke to a gentle tune cradling her as if she were still in her mother’s arms. It almost felt like sailing down a river, rocked to and fro, and she allowed the simple pleasure of peace to envelop her for the moment, drifting just beneath coming fully awake and aware.

She felt so comfortable. So sweetly held by the water, and yet she could still breathe air. Somewhere just beyond the waters was the panic of some predicament she was in, but the song kept her away from it and made her feel so safe. She sighed, smiling slightly, raising her hand to touch the air-

Her fingertips found, instead, the warmth of smooth skin. In her mind, clear as a bell, came a simply sung command. 

Wake up.

Her eyes opened.

She gasped.

The siren’s inhumanly beautiful face was what she felt - her fingers were against his cheek, and she moved her pointer finger along the line of his cheekbone with her breath still caught in her throat. The creature loomed over her, staring down, his face only inches from hers as his last note faded, vibrating between them, as much in her lungs as his when she breathed him in. His hands were flat to the floor on either side of her, boxing her in. The worn-soft linen of his shirt brushed against her.

He was so close he could have kissed her. She’d have clawed his face off if he had, disemboweled him with her fingernails, beaten him to death with the nearest object capable of it.

But he only watched her, with a look of something like confusion or lingering frustration in the furrow of his brows.

Kira, still a little hazy from the song-spell, pressed her thumb lightly against the little wrinkle there between his eyes, just above the bridge of his nose.

He twitched, but he didn't pull back.

Kira realized she was holding her breath and hitched in an inhale, feeling her corset as a kind of soothing structure over her ribs, giving her support. The siren smelled like salt-spray, but not seawater. Cleaner than that. As if he carried a version of the sea with him that had never been polluted by the shipwrecks of men.

Her heart raced, the foggy comfort of the song turned to the sharper, cut-glass terror of being so close to something that could rend her limb from limb if he chose. And yet…

And yet.

He didn’t.

She dropped her hand. His eyes followed its drift downwards, then went back up to meet her gaze. She could be lost in them - and she knew why sailors would dive into the water to follow the song of a siren and think themselves in heaven as their lungs filled with saltwater and the sirens pulled them into the dark.

She might have followed such a lovely face and beautiful song to her death gladly, too.

And isn't that, more or less, what Guilford Wentworth intended to make her do?

She shook herself a little, like a dog shaking off water. “... you are-... very close,” She managed, voice half-whispered. She didn’t know why. “W-... why?”

The siren paused. Then, he said, slowly, “I do not understand you." . He pulled back, finally, and took his scent of sea-salt and the warmth of his skin with him. Kira found herself almost mournful at the loss, then her nose wrinkled with disgust at the thought. It must be the last dregs of the spell he’d had her under, mucking up her mind. She pushed herself to sitting, once he was far enough back, and looked around.

She was back in a bedroom, but not the same one. This one had different portraits of the same people, or maybe other people who looked like the same people. It had the large bed with different canopy and covers, and heavy iron bars on the window, thick enough that the sun barely made its way through. She could feel the hint of iron lacing every wall around her, somehow woven into the very walls. Magic-dampening, leaving her half-helpless, only able to cast spells that only affected her own body. 

At least, until he put iron on that, too.

Would the wedding ring be iron? Or a bracelet, welded on, keeping her forever under the thumb of the Lord Guilford Wentworth’s heinous desires? Just another wife in a portrait on the wall, smiling like dumb livestock because her own needs and dreams had been summarily removed, and no way to defend herself-

No way out-

She swallowed the lump in her throat and rubbed her upper arms with her hands, trying to force her breathing to slow down, and her heartbeat with it. Panic was never of any use, and it never solved a problem. “I-I… what. Ah, pardon, but... what is it you don’t understand, then?” Her voice came out thready and weak, but if the siren noticed, he didn’t visibly react.

“You.” He waved one hand at her, thoughtful. He was bruised in so many places, and she blinked as she realized some of those bruises seemed new. Bright red rings around his neck. Had Guilford Wentworth choked him in his anger, after she had been put to sleep on the floor? Had he done worse than that? “You come to work for him," The siren continued, "You come to chain me with human magic like all the others, and now you fear living the same life you would have made me live.”

Kira blinked. “I-... that’s wasn’t-... that’s not what I came here to do, though.”

Areyto stared at her, disbelief written clearly in the twist of his lips and flash of his dark eyes. Either he wasn’t very good at hiding his feelings, or he wasn’t bothering to hide them from her. “Yes, it is.” He held out his right arm, as if she had forgotten about the spellwork slowly fading from his skin. "You come to make this dark again."

“Right, yes, but-... I didn’t know-... I didn’t know he had a man.” The argument felt weak, and his snort in response definitely emphasized how very weak it was. 

“I am not a man,” Areyto said, voice flat. Fury bubbled just beneath his outward placidity. "How many times he tells me this? I am an animal, a dumb predator who will kill men for my meals and so can be made to do anything without guilt. It is no sin to rend and defile little more than a demon, he says. Yes? Is that not what a siren is? Wicked and wild?"

“No!” She groaned, putting her hands up over her face. “I-I mean... maybe wild, yes, but it’s not-... I didn’t know you were a creature who could think. The job was meant to be spelling a sea serpent-”

“That is what I am."

"You are not!" Why was she arguing? Somehow, Kira couldn't stop herself. She pushed up to her feet, and Areyto followed suit, the two of them close once again, each with a stubborn set to their jaws, each glaring daggers at the other.

Areyto seemed to realize the reflection they made first, and his expression shifted. He turned and went to the window. "The serpents also think. Not that it matters to men."

Kira told herself not to think about the scars she had seen on his back, down in the room with his pool of water. The scars… everywhere, beneath that plain shirt and pants he wore now. She could nearly picture them even now, barely hidden by the thin linen. He had been tortured, here, again and again and again. Because of magicians like her. “You just cannot speak to them to know it," Areyto muttered. "Your kind knows nothing about the waters.”

“Right… right. All right." She took in a deep breath, put her hands up to admit her defeat. "You say it truly, I am ignorant as to the ocean. But… I do promise, I did not know it would be one... one like you! I didn't know-”

“That you would do harm to a creature who could tell you the harm you do, that is what you did not know. You did not know that you would harm something you think to be pretty.” He looked at her over his shoulder, lip curling in disgust.

It made her hackles raise, to be looked at like that. Even if he had every right to loathe humanity, she couldn't stop herself from brushing the wrinkles from her skirt and then drawing herself to her full height. Her hair was coming loose, curling tendrils coming free and making the back of her neck itch. She set her jaw imperiously. "You don't know me so well as you think."

"Don't I? I know the ones like you. All your pity and your sympathies have never stopped you from making me his, again and again and again, you human magicians. You watch him keep me as a pet and a slave to his wants, whisper your sorries and make your sad faces and then watch me when the pain begins, and ends, and begins again. You are no better than the first one to hurt me. You humans are all exactly the same. You fear me or hate me, and if you feel anything else, it isn't enough to make you lift a hand to save me."

Kira opened her mouth to argue, and then slowly closed it again. “You have been-... ill-used by humans for a very long time,” She said, finally, keeping her voice low and a little soft. “I would hate us very much, if it were me, I think."

His expression stayed flat. "Indeed."

"But-... I would like to say that... that I don't like to think of myself as exactly like anyone or anything, and... I think I can do better by you than the other magicians have."

His face didn't move, but something might have softened around the glare of his eyes.

"But... can I ask-... If you hate us all so much, why are you in this room with me? Why not be… anywhere else, in this house, or however far you are allowed to go?”

Areyto did not answer her. He simply kept his eyes on the outside world, for long seconds ticking by marked by a clock on the wall. The sound might drive her mad, if one of them did not break it soon.

Just when she had drawn together her determination to speak again - having no idea what she would even say if she did - the siren turned around. He was close to her before she could do more than back up a few steps, bringing with him the heavy tension of his innate magic, a wild animal kind that the iron couldn’t dampen so well as it did her own. She swallowed, tipping her chin to meet his eyes as his warm hands closed around her upper arms. His irises shifted within themselves, like seaweed moving slowly in some deep dark place under the water. 

“You could use your magic without marking a spell,” He said, voice low. “Without a song. Without the paints or the brush. You did it there, at the table. You could do it again."

Kira shook her head. “I-I don’t know how I did it. We are not meant to be able to-”

“But you did. You must do it again, use that magic. Use it to free me, and yourself, from this place. From this man. That is why I come here to you, and bring you awake so you will speak to me.”

He took her hand in his own, then, closing both of his other her fingers, and she felt an electric charge up her arm as if he were made of lightning. She tensed, her eyes searching his face for the sign of rage, or the rows of sharp teeth she knew were there, beneath the human mouth. But all he did was lean in close, and she felt the puff of his breath as he spoke, pleading with eyes locked on hers. “Please. You are different than they have been before. Be different now. Help me.”

“I’m-... I’m a prisoner as much as you are-”

“Please,” He whispered again. “Please, please help me. You have wild magic. He cannot control that. Not even with my song. Not at all. You must use it to free me, don't leave me here."

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, w-wild-... wild magic-... Look." She shook her head. "No one has that. Magic only works if it's directed-"

“Not yours.” He moved, then, around and past her, to the door. He left her standing there feeling as though he’d taken all the air with him. Left her cold and alone. The door opened and closed, and though when she tried it a half-second later, the doorknob did not turn for her at all, and the iron it was laced with made her palms ache.

She collapsed into an overstuffed padded chair in the corner of the room, a hand to her head, staring at nothing. The spell to make her body her own had faded, while she slept, but if he had noticed he hadn't said anything about that, either. Had shown no sign of even seeing the difference.

His words hung in the air as if he’d carved them into the walls, or painted them onto her skin. A spell, but one made only of terrible, frightened need.

Help me.

-

Taglist: @grizzlie70 @burtlederp @finder-of-rings @theelvishcowgirl @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump @bloodinkandashes @squishablesunbeam @mj-or-say10 @apokolyps @wildfaewhump @shrimpwritings @there-will-always-be-blood @latenightcupsofcoffee

[totallynotthedarkreunion]

Posted this on personality database to explain the differences and similarities between L and Near like several months ago because it bothers me when people act like near is trying to be exactly like L. If you want to heckle someone for copying L, beyond birthday is literally right there

L's ultimate goal was obviously to catch Kira, but before that, his only goal was to live the way that he wanted to. He solved cases for fun, and that was what he devoted his life to. On the other hand, Near is devoted to solving cases because of L. Near deeply admires L and wants to live up to him, using that as his drive to solve the case. Both are very personal matters, but L's case is a matter of self while Near's focus is his idol.

Near is more practical. He solved the case in a very simple way, using Light's mistakes as a stepladder and seemingly used L's information as a base (despite having no prior access to his information). He states himself that he solves things like puzzles, taking concrete information that he witnesses and collects himself and using that to build a bigger picture. L's method starts directly with the bigger picture and character analysation. He is more intuitive. More precisely, he analyzed Kiras actions to make deductions about his personality which led him to his suspect. He then had to zero in on the details to find Kiras method of killing.

In other words, Near is more likely to ask "what is Kira doing and what is he trying to accomplish?" while L is more likely to ask "why is Kira doing this and what is he thinking?" Both of which are very valid ways to solve this case.

L has a better understanding of himself than Near does, even if this understanding is incorrect. L participates in more metacognition, talking about himself and stating that he is not a good person and he is selfish, while Near doesn't consider these things about himself, or hasn't said anything about it. This makes me think L is both more intrapersonally and interpersonally (understanding Kira) intelligent than Near is, whereas Near directs his focus and intellect toward other things.

In terms of differences in mood and tone, Near has a much sharper disposition. His manner of speech is condescending and somewhat harsh in comparison to L. L's speech was made to sound soothing. Additionally, L seems to have a larger amount of seemingly unorthodox behaviors than near does.

Both are very direct with their speech and say what they are thinking. They both purposefully lie to try and get Light to slip up (although, I will say L does more lying while Near mostly withholds information). They are an equal amount of assertive and are both able to take control when working with others. They both employ some level of cowardice, L having hidden his face for most of his life and only solving cases from behind a screen, while Near exhibits similar behaviors by wearing a mask of L in the last episode and other such examples.

To edit this last paragraph six months later, after reading the LABB case, it's not about cowardice but more about protection. In that case, that is another difference: L hides himself for protection, while Near hides himself for protection and because of fear. We see him saying things like "I'm scared, so I'm not going to go outside" but L seems to have no problem with that kind of stuff. That being said, both of them revealed themselves when it was necessary for the case.

[the-brainrot-central]

KOSAKU AU FANFIC - ROUGH DRAFT

Okay so I haven’t posted it yet because of so many gaps but here’s what I have so far of that silly little mpreg AU I had for Kira. Basically it takes place after he stole Kosaku’s identity and shit. Enjoy the silliness

CONTENT WARNING: Mpreg, discussions of sex, mentioned virginity loss, some cis-normative language

This was the third time in a week this had happened—the third time. He’d woken up horribly nauseous that morning and reluctantly, in fear of staining the carpet instead, dragged himself to the bathroom to throw up. It was horrible, he thought; he wasn’t used to feeling so sick like this. He took such great care of himself that he rarely, if ever, had bodily issues such as nausea or headaches. However, this unexpected turn of events was perhaps putting undue stress on his body—at least, that was his assumption.

Jesus Christ…did I eat something weird…? Fuck…

It wasn’t over yet, however; another wave of nausea washed over him, and once more he hunched over the toilet bowl.

Some time passed before his nausea assuaged—by then he was sure he’d thrown up any food that was left in his stomach. It was just awful…he hated being sick like this. He tried to make himself stand up, but found that he couldn’t: his body was too exhausted. Instead he succumbed to the heaviness in his bones, letting himself sink into sleep, head resting on the toilet seat.

When he next woke, he was surprised to feel someone gently stroking his back.

“Kosaku, are you alright?” Her voice was soft, pleasant—like dripping honey. Usually it was sharper, more nasally and grating and way louder than it should be, and Kira didn’t like it. However, her soft voice was soothing, gently tickling his ear, sending an inexplicable calmness through his body. He sighed.

“No…I feel sick…”

“Like nauseous?”

“Yes. It’s awful…” he groaned, indulging in her kindness. He did appreciate her in some ways, he had to admit—she was always doting on him, especially as of late with his bouts of fatigue and illness.

“You’ve been throwing up a lot, Kosaku…are you eating anything different?”

“No,” he whined, “I haven’t.”

She stroked some circles into his back, biting her lip as she contemplated.

“I think we should see your doctor, just to check things. Maybe he can help.”

He sighed, chest welling with anxiety. He knew this was coming—of course she’d want to take him. And he’d have to pretend to know the guy and everything too; it was such a hassle.

“Do I have to?”

—————-

It had started off simple enough. As all bad things do. Things were going well as Kosaku for now, and he was adjusting well to his new role as a boring, work-absorbed husband and dismissive father. However, after two months of living a lie, Kira began to feel strange—he was oddly fatigued, more than he was used to as Kosaku. He’d discovered via social osmosis that the man was somewhat of a workaholic, unfortunately, another bootlicker desperate to climb the corporate ladder. Consequently, in keeping this facade, Kira was forced to undergo much more work than he was used to, especially unpaid overtime; it was thoroughly exhausting. It was a nuisance, and a big one at that, but he could cope—anything to remain safe, to be unnoticed by his chasers. However, this fatigue only got worse as time went on.

Soon after this, he became frequently nauseous: he couldn’t keep much food down, as much as he tried to for the sake of not calling unwanted attention. However, it was wearing on him—his body felt terrible, and his mood was frequently sour. Despite all this, he made sure to put on a cool face for Shinobu and Hayato; surely this was a short-lived illness, and soon enough it would pass him over.

However, much to his displeasure, his symptoms did not subside—they only worsened. About a week later, he was vomiting every day, usually three times or more. Besides that, he’d noticed that somehow his stomach was bigger; while he used to have relative ease slipping into Kosaku’s pants and underwear, he now struggled to button up his fly.

Of course, Shinobu began to worry and urged him to see a doctor, which he tried to refuse, but she was persistent. Finally he conceded, figuring it was best not to put up a fight; Kosaku or not, he hated bickering and nagging women. He was anxious, for obvious reasons—he had to pretend to be a patient, one who had known this doctor for probably most of his adult life. That was not good news. Still, surely a physician wouldn’t have much reason to be suspicious of him, so perhaps there wasn’t much to worry about. And besides, even if he did suspect anything, he had no way of knowing the whole truth. If he asked if Kosaku was feeling alright, or called out his unusual demeanor, he’d simply bluff his way through, claiming he was under the weather perhaps, or stressed at work. Things would probably be fine if he stayed quiet and let the doctor do most of the talking. He’d explain his symptoms in a short, terse way, and that would be that.

The appointment went seamlessly—no slips in the facade. The doctor told him and Shinobu that watchful waiting was a good idea, to come back in a week if the symptoms persisted—he advised him not to put too much strain on his body in the meanwhile, and to avoid alcohol or other recreational substances. Easy enough, he supposed.

Unfortunately for him, another miserable week passed and he felt no better than before; the nausea was so severe that he’d even lost some weight, despite his growing waistline. Shinobu anxiously shuttled him right back to the doctor, practically whining as she begged him to help her poor, sickly husband. However, the doctor didn’t take much convincing at all—it seemed like he was expecting this, if anything. He didn’t seem shocked or worried, but rather expectant, if anything.

Anxiously, he walked into the doctor's office with Shinobu, mentally steeling himself to improvise and keep up the charade. Sure, it wouldn’t be that bad—he was just describing his symptoms, which were the truth. But still, he couldn't be too careful

Kira sat down on the bed, making the sheets crinkle loudly as he shifted his weight to be more comfortable. His hips and back were feeling stiff, and lately it was harder to find a position that didnt put uncomfortable pressure on the muscles.

“So, Kosaku, I take it things have been getting worse?”

Kira sighed, frustrated with this man.

“Well, what do you think, sensei? I’m back here, aren’t I?”

“Ah…yes. I apologize for being rhetorical.”

Kira rubbed at the bridge of his nose. “No, it’s fine—I’m just grumpy. Sorry for being rude.”

“Not at all; I can tell you’ve been under some stress, ever since our last session. You were so unusually serious, it had me worried.”

Kira pondered, a sharp pang of fear striking his chest. What does he mean by that?

“Oh, really?”

“Oh, come on, you’re always so lighthearted when I see you—cracking jokes, complaining about your wife and all. You’re never so quiet like you were.”

The doctor cleared his throat, refocusing on the situation at hand.

“Well, anyhow, I’ll stop skating around this—how are you feeling?”

Kira allowed himself another deep, heavy sigh—this would be in character for Kosaku, right?

“I’m just awful. I feel so nauseous all the time, and I’m fucking exhausted…It’s just so draining.”

“I see…is the nausea worse than when I last saw you?”

“Much worse—I’m throwing up every day, usually more than once. It’s terrible…everything’s making me nauseous—even foods I used to enjoy. Do you mind if I…lie down?”

“Of course, no need to ask. You're oddly polite today, Kawajiri-san…”

Kira’s heart skipped a beat at that—shit. His cover was slipping—why didn’t he realize? Now he was being too polite; Kosaku was always polite, from what he’d gathered from social osmosis…perhaps that was different when he was with his doctor. Quickly, he made something up.

“Ah, sorry—still in work-brain mode. Gotta suck up to the big guys, all that; you know how it is.” He laid himself down gently on the bed, overly anxious of moving in a strange way.

That got a brief chuckle out of the man.

“Indeed, I do, Kawajiri, indeed I do.” He jotted something down on his clipboard, before glancing back over at Kosaku.

“It’s every day, you said?”

“Yes.”

“I see. Have any new symptoms appeared?”

“Well…my stomach is kind of bloated, which is odd. It’s not painful, really, just a little distended—I haven’t eaten anything atypical lately, so I don’t know what’s causing it. I weighed myself, too, and I’m getting heavier.”

The man scribbled away at his clipboard, jotting down notes.

“Anything else?”

Kira was hesitant. Somehow he felt paranoid, like even describing his symptoms would somehow give him away; therefore, he was withholding some information. It felt like at any moment, he could crack—he would slip and let something loose and it’d be too late to recover. Nevertheless, he continued speaking—they were just symptoms, after all. Nothing related to his identity.

“Well…my back has been hurting more than usual. My hips are sore, too. Still feel tired, really tired…that’s all I can think of that’s changed, really.”

“Not to be irrelevant, but just out of curiosity—have you noticed a more frequent need to urinate lately?”

Kira pondered; now that he thought of it, he had. He didn’t really think to include that, since it didn’t seem relevant—and besides, it was a mildly irritating symptom, at best.

“I mean…now that you mention it, yeah. I kind of have.”

“I see. Interesting.”

“Doc, I hate to rush things but…do you know what it could be? Any ideas at all?”

Kira was growing impatient—this seemed to be going nowhere fast, and he was keen to get out of this dreaded doctor’s office as soon as possible.

“Well…it’s nothing serious, from what I can tell, but…it’s hard to explain.”

“Try me.”

The man gave him a nervous glance, as if gaging his potential reaction. He sighed lightly, adjusting his glasses, shifting in his seat.

“This may sound strange, but…have you ever heard of male pregnancy?”

Kira’s brow furrowed in confusion, convinced he misheard.

“I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“Male pregnancy—it’s rarely talked about, and admittedly kind of rare but…it’s still a possibility. Have you been sexually active lately?”

Kira nearly startled up and out of the mattress—what the fuck was this guy on about? Was he insane?

“Doctor, with all due respect, I’m a heterosexual man; I have a penis. I don’t see how I could possibly—”

“I understand your suspicion, Kawajiri-san, but straight men can become pregnant, I assure you—even with a penis. And based on your symptoms and your tests…I wouldn’t rule out the possibility just yet. Well, unless, that is, you haven’t been sexually active in the past four months—in that case, it’s impossible.”

What is he, insane?! I’ve never heard of this shit in my life! He’s out of his mind!

Kira sat up suddenly, too suddenly, which sent his head spinning. Ignoring the sudden nausea that spun, he began to talk rapidly, correcting the misguided doctor.

“Sir, there must be some sort of misunderstanding—I have no uterus, or ovaries, or anything of the sort! To think that you, a medical professional, would suggest something so…utterly inconceivable, is just completely—!”

“I understand your confusion and fear, Kawajiri-san, but please, just hear me out! I promise I am not trying to mislead you or say anything untrue.”

Kira finally shut up, deciding it’d be too difficult to argue back with this man constantly interrupting him. His doctor breathed in deeply, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose.

“I’d like to run a few more tests and an ultrasound, just to be certain. And, according to your records, you’ve never been officially checked for…unusual sex organs, or anything internal that might be hidden. Oh, speak of which…back to the question of sex; you didn’t answer. Have you had any lately?”

Kira averted his eyes, his body tensing up at the question—this felt so invasive.

“Um…yes…with my wife…” He cringed as he said this, remembering the thoroughly unpleasant encounter—she had insisted on it, claiming they hadn’t done it in a long while. She thought that they should spend more intimate time together, to strengthen their relationship. With much internal reluctance, he acquiesced, determined not to rock the boat. She seemed to enjoy it, fortunately enough. However, for him it was humiliating; he was so anxious that he barely managed to stay hard, let alone come. It didn;t feel good physically, either—to put it bluntly, it felt like wiggling his dick around in wet salami. He had been technically a virgin up until that point, and to have to expose himself to a woman who he still considered practically a stranger…well, it was frankly an awful experience. So many unpleasant emotions had brewed from it—he felt like he had been robbed of something, in some deep, intimate way, and that he would never get that sense of purity back.

“I see. Do you remember when you last had sex with her?”

He was beginning to feel nauseous and dizzy, overwhelmed by these questions. However, he masked his affect, maintaining an aloof, anxious appearance.

“Um…I think it was...about a month ago, maybe more.”

“I see…that makes sense. In that case, pregnancy is a possible diagnosis. However I cannot truthfully confirm that you are pregnant yet; that is just my strong suspicion. I just…wanted you to know it was a probability, from what you’ve said so far. You don’t have any symptoms to suggest something else is wrong, like your liver, kidneys or stomach. Would you be willing to do some tests and an ultrasound, so I can be sure? I won’t be able to know what this condition is unless I test you.”

Kira sighed. His head was practically reeling—he had absolutely not expected this to happen when he walked in here today. He’d expected this man to tell him he was sick with a bug, prescribe him a pill, and send him on his way. However, this??? This was beyond anything he ever could’ve predicted. Him, pregnant? That wasn’t possible!

However, the way this doctor spoke about it, so calmly and logically…it was starting to make Kira doubt himself. This man wouldn’t say such outlandish things if there wasn’t true cause to believe them…that was even more reason to worry. Sure, the doctor was being reluctant to confirm his hypothesis, but given that he’d been brave enough to share it in the first place was a sign that deep down, that man probably already knew.

That thought terrified Kira.

It was no use fighting him about it—Kira also wanted to know what was wrong with his body. Though in truth, he was afraid of what the tests would say, more than anything—then what would he do?? How the hell could he explain that to Shinobu?

Either way, Kira needed confirmation—he had to know for sure. Kira sighed, gripping his fingers around the edge of the bed.

“I—alright, I’ll do the tests.” As smooth as he tried to be, his voice faltered, stuttering and quavering a little.

“Okay. Thank you for cooperating, Kawajiri-san—I know this is very nerve-wracking. I promise that whatever happens, you’ll be okay, alright? I’ll make sure you’re in good hands.”

Kira simply nodded, avoiding eye contact. He didn’t know what to say—all of this was so confusing.

elephant????

When Shinobu came back into the room, to ask how it went, it took every fiber of his being to maintain his composure. He told her he was fine, that the doctor wanted to run some tests just to be sure of it. At this she became concerned.

“What? Why would he make you do tests? What does he think is wrong with you? What aren’t you telling me?” She spoke too fast, rapidly firing questions one after another, the way obnoxious women tended to do.

“Calm down, honey, I’m okay. He says he…doesn’t know what this is. He doesn’t think it’s anything serious, though.”

Define serious, he thought sarcastically to himself—sure, he

ELEPHANT

It was positive. The tests came back positive.

Kira was the first to know, of course. The doctor suggested bringing Shinobu in to break the news, which he had no reason to object to—it would be much easier than telling her himself.

She had simply sat there, staring at the doctor with

ELEPHANT

They drove home in silence, Shinobu being the one to drive—there was so much to say. And yet there was no possible way to say it.

She seemed agitated, Kira observed, by the way she jerked the car more aggressively her maneuvers frantic and jagged instead of smooth and precise. Despite the fact that she wasn’t his actual wife, that he was simply playing the part of a husband…he worried about her reaction, fearing she was angry with him. Was she mad? Would she yell at him? The guilt was stirring inside him, made worse by her deadpan expression and the tense, silent air. Upon arriving home, Hayato was already there—Shino greeted him with her usual enthusiasm, though Kira could still feel that shaky, precarious sense of unease about her—the way she stumbled over her words, how her voice trembled slightly, how she gestured too much. They ate dinner as usual, with Hayato, pretending everything was fine—Kira tried to tag on to the conversation every once in a while, when it was appropriate. Shinobu implicitly but deliberately drove the conversation, centering it around Hayato and how his day was, how school was going, new classroom gossip and whatnot.

ELEPHANT

He practically trudged through the door of his house, his body heavy with an indescribable exhaustion. Not to mention his belly, which was nearly the size of a football and already putting strain on his back.

“Hey, honey, how was work today?”

“It was alright. Tiring.” He slugged his way inside, trying not to show his deflated mood on his face. He felt awful, in every way—his body was a mess, his anxiety was hiking up, and he was barely managing to stay awake on the job. He sank down on the couch, not bothering to give his wife their usual “welcome home” kiss—a ritual that had begun a short while after he took over Kosaku’s identity. He just wanted to be left alone, to have a break from the constant charade that was his life now.

“Kosaku, are you alright?”

“Yeah, honey, just tired…I need a nap.”

“Oh, alright. Are you hungry?”

“Yeah…”

“What should I make you?”

“Jus’ whatever…I don’t care…” He was now thoroughly cuddled up on the couch, slowly sinking into a much deserved sleep.

[dumpster-of-the-lost-souls]

Jak and Daxter AU

So Jak and Dexter fandom, I have an AU I wanna share it’s kinda self indulgent but I wanna share it anyway. it is also a crossover with paella magi madoka magic cause that was a big thing for me when I first came up with this au and stuck around.

@radioactivepeasant since I really enjoy your Jak content I tagged you since I want you to see this. Its kinda a mess right now but I hope it catches your interest.

So everyone knows at this point that King Damas of Spargus is Jak’s father, and is the previous ruler of Haven before Baron Praxis overthrew him. 

So my au is that whenever Jak was born he came into the world with a twin. 

So Damas is looking for his sons, but by the time Jak & hit twin meets Damas  he's actually got a son and a daughter.

This twin has been given the name Kira. 

So when Count Velcro (its Veger!) kidnapps the two when they escape they get separated Young Jak/Mar is found by the underground while Unfortunately Young Kira is swept up into the dark warrior program, as Young Kira was passed over by Kor, she was left in the slums and in area where the poor and unfortunate were vanished off the streets to be used as test subjects in the dark warrior program. 

Kira thanks to her bloodline and being relatively young was able to survive these Dark Eco experiments relatively unscathed, Kira has permanent horns, stains on her skin from dark eco exposure, sharper teeth with stronger jaw structure, (if you put fingers close to her mouth there a good chance you’ll lose them), night vision and a tapetum lucid. (the things that make cats eyes glow in the dark)

The Puella Magi stuff comes in briefly when an Incubator shows up and offers a wish Kira’s wish is rather wordy and is best boiled down to a desire to know and understand the why and how the Dark Warrior Program operated. She made the wish got the information and decided to GTFO.

Her “boon” from the wish was she automatically gets the basics of how or why something eco based works, provided that the thing is man made if its a precursor artifact she’s gonna come up with zilch.

She uses the warp gate in the prison to escape by overclocking it with eco with the intent of scrambling it so she wouldn't be followed, by overclocking she got spat out in another timeline/universe where thanks to the timey wimey ball grows up and becomes an adult in a similar manner to Jak. 

Kira received her name from another contractor she met, Kaho Okumura. In this context it was chosen since it sounder like the English word for killer, and for the Japanese onomatopoeia ぎらぎら romanized “kirakira” which means the sound of something glimmering or sparkling, sometimes referring to a determined gleam or sparkle in ones eye.

Kira’s personality is prickly, she's very guarded and tends to be very snarky, and jaded with people. Though she almost never beats around the bush and is very blunt, she says what she means and she means what she says. she often works on her own and is incredibly self reliant. She also does not enjoy being touched much. 

But if you’ve known her for a while and have earned her trust Kira will loosen up, shell be a bit more open with her expression instead of having resting bitch face all the time, she’ll be willing to play games and relax instead of constantly being on her guard and ready to defend against a physical attack. 

---

Physically she's shorter than Jak but not by much, she’s about eye level with Jak’s shoulders. she’s also somewhat stockier, having a fair bit more muscle definition and strength then Jak, who is built more for running, parkour, and the like. Kira is built more to brawling, and physical strength, and can take more hits.

In a physical completion Jak would beat Kira in contests of speed and agility. while Kira would beat Jak in contests of strength or endurance.

Kira is well versed in rock climbing as the area she ended up in is very mountainous with lots of cliffs. 

Kira’s gun is a modified sniper rifle that fires metal bullets that have been infused with eco, while Jak’s morph gun shoots blasts of raw eco.

Kira also refuses to touch light eco with a 10 foot pole.

Kira and Tess would get along surprisingly well, since with Tess’s skills as a gunsmith would catch Kira’s attention and she would want to compare notes since Kira modified her gun herself.

[kemendin]

Yet another WIP excerpt

My brain changed gears so now we’re back to Cas having the bad time instead of Quinn :D Bit of a longer blurb this time!

The ‘chamber’ Kira had prepared proved to be one of the smaller storage rooms, deep under the base’s main structure and far from any wandering personnel. Kira was lurking just outside the door. She straightened as Cas approached, and he watched her eyes as they flurried over him in light concern.

“You ready?”

“No,” replied Cas, immediate and wishing he didn’t sound as sick as he felt.

Kira’s expression winced sympathetically. “Didn’t think so,” she murmured. To Cas' surprise she stepped closer and gave him a quick hug.

“I’m not staying, I just wanted to be here to - wish you luck, I guess.” She pulled back again. “I know this isn’t anything to be excited about. But I think you’ll feel better, when it’s out of you.”

Cas swallowed and gave a wobbly nod. “I hope you’re right,” he said hoarsely. “I - thanks, Kira. I appreciate it.”

Kira’s lips compressed into a forced smile. “Off you go, then. I’ll be around if you boys need me.” A pat was given to Cas’ shoulder, and then she headed back along the passageway. Cas drew a shaky breath and stepped through the door.

The storage room was already half empty of cargo, and the remaining crates of supplies had been pushed - or, Cas assumed, levitated - to line the rocky walls, leaving a broad clearing in the middle of the floor. Two small cushions were set there, illuminated only by half a dozen candles in small holders standing sentinel around them.

Scourge was waiting by one of the crates, wearing the same loose garments as before. His crimson robe looked nearly black in the dimly lit room, and his red eyes gleamed. He stepped forward, closer into the candles’ glow.

“Are you ready, Jedi?”

“I wish people would stop asking me that,” Cas answered, in a voice higher than normal. He glanced down at the pair of pillows, and felt the need to add, “I assume we’re sitting there,” as though he hadn’t participated in dozens of similar meditation set-ups before.

Scourge nodded, and made a small gesture towards the floor, before the motion melded into a sharper pull through the air. The door of the storage room slid closed with a loud grinding noise, and Cas got the uncomfortable feeling he was being sealed in.

[j-graysonlibrary]

The Xiang Chronicles: Book Three Chapter 7

Title: The Xiang Chronicles: Book Three

Author: Jay Grayson

Word Count: 107k

Genres: Fantasy, adventure, drama, LGBT+

Available on: my website

Synopsis: Only one Xiang remains and her name is Merra. She hopes to unite the land by force and plow down anyone in her way—especially the people of Agni who she deems faithless and the native people of Terra who refuse to cooperate with her.

Raine continues to serve his Lord but he has taken to alcoholism to soothe his grief—a fact he keeps out of his letters with Heidi. Baiya has returned to mercenary work in order to keep his family safe while Kira is on the warpath. He, fully, takes on the title of Chaaya and means to defeat the Xiang he sees as false.

And, in a guarded castle in Enlil, a stir-crazy Princess dabbles in the dark arts, setting in motion something even Tiandi cannot see.

Full chapter 7 under the cut

Chapter VII:

The other shoe was sure to drop and Pangu watched the man’s stern face, waiting. “I do not know, how after all these years, she still does not know not to yell in front of Sunny.”

It was not what he expected at all. Pangu blinked a few times. “I…you are not mad at me?”

A crease formed between Kaz’s brows. “What? Because you wandered off?” He shrugged. “Sure, this might not have happened if you had not but it is no huge deal. If you stunk of rotten flesh or could not form a sentence on your own then it would be a problem but I have known you long enough to know you would not evoke any suspicion. Actually…”

Pangu watched him, completely taken aback. The blonde walked into another room, briefly, but then returned with a new robe and undergarments over his arm. They were similar to what a lot of the servants wore.

“You can change into this after your bath. You need to wash off all the dirt and dust from rolling around on the floor with Sunny.”

He did as he was asked and contemplated the meaning behind the new robes while he was alone in the bath. The fact they were servant’s robes would keep anyone from giving him a second glance in the halls, should he wish to explore. Really, they were an explicit sign to him that he was free to walk about if he wanted to.

After what happened with Sunny, he had expected the opposite response.

Pangu scrubbed himself clean and then looked over the selection of oils. He smelled each, finding the one that Kaz tended to gravitate toward and he poured a few drops on his hand. As he rubbed it in, he sniffed a few more times. The smell was already burying itself deep into his memory and it was something he hoped he would not forget.

He passed by Kaz who went for a bath himself and they caught each other’s eyes for a second but did not say anything. Pangu sat on the bed and dried his hair with a towel, as much as he could, and then accepted that the wind would dry it the rest of the way. He did like how the salt in the air would often stick to his hair after a bath and linger. Even if he did not remember his childhood, the smell made him nostalgic.

Kaz returned, dressed for bed and with a slight frown but his face normally looked that way. Pangu thought nothing of it until hands were on his shoulders and the man’s face was extremely close. His eyes narrowed and he took a slow, intentional breath.

“Are you wearing my oils?”

Pangu froze for a second before croaking, “Yes?”

“My favorite too?” Kaz leaned even closer, to get a better smell. “You know there are several scents and this one is hard to come by.”

“I like it,” Pangu responded without thinking. He quickly tried to explain when he received an even sharper look. “I am sorry but…it…I…well, I suppose I should have used a different oil and then just gotten close to you if I wanted to smell this one.”

In a flash, Kaz was away from him and on the other side of the bed. “Do not say things like that. It can give people the wrong impression.”

Pangu could see a rosy tone to the man’s cheeks and he resisted the urge to smile. He was embarrassing him and he recalled his earlier thoughts on wanting to try and push his buttons.

He scooted closer and sat up on his knees. “What sort of impression?” he persisted.

“The weird kind,” Kaz answered easily. “Get on your side.”

“That is not an answer.”

“And why should I answer you?”

Pangu stared at him for a moment and decided to ask something more personal. “Have you ever had anyone in your bed before me?”

Kaz’s face turned bright red, almost making Pangu laugh but he somehow managed to keep it together. The man’s skin tone really gave away how much his words affected him—even his ears were pink.

“Do not say it like that! What do you even mean?” He crossed his arms tightly across his chest. “I have never slept beside anyone since my sister and I separated into two beds, if that is what you are asking. If you are implying something else, however, first of all, it is not your business and, second, I do not appreciate you suggesting that you are, somehow, in such a category.”

That time, Pangu did laugh. “What category?”

“You know,” Kaz huffed, “I would not be surprised to find out you had been disowned by Tiandi for your perversion.”

“Perversion?” he repeated with a frown, “I only ask simple questions. You are the one turning red in the face and making wild conjectures.”

“You!” Kaz shouted and then clenched his fists in frustration. “I would never have such a thing on my mind without your weird insistence. I am pure in heart and body, thank you, and I do not appreciate your…your…you!”

Pangu snickered, only flustering him more. “Sorry,” he apologized before Kaz could explode again. “I will try not to tease you further. It is fun but I will resist.”

Kaz reached over and pushed him in the chest, sending him down to the bed. “Sleep and leave me be.”

They did settle in for bed with no more incidents although Pangu thought of plenty of things he wanted to say and even do but he held back on Kaz’s account. He had thoroughly flustered him enough for one night, even if the desire to push and push was there. The ideas were growing a little too outrageous anyway. If Pangu did not stop himself, he was not sure how far he might take it.

Before he knew it, he was considering what Kaz might do if he curled into the side of him. Or kissed him. He would probably shove him away but Pangu kept thinking of a scenario where he did not.

His eyes fluttered open and he saw purple skies—a sight that was new to him but struck him as familiar. There was a crash of thunder in the distance and strange static in the air. He felt a million sets of eyes on him and a shadowy figure danced around his peripherals.

“Hello?” he called out.

There was no answer but the uneasy atmosphere deepened. His feet may as well have been sunk into the earth and his heart thumped wildly. Trees, off in the distance, rustled with the wind and a snapping sound forced him to look up.

In the clouds, there was a face but he could not make out the details. “Pangu,” it said, deep and earth shaking, “We have warned you yet you still…”

“…What?” Pangu managed to spit out even if fear was sinking its fangs into him.

“Failure…disappointment…evil.”

The words sounded more distant now but no less gut wrenching. He fell forward, catching himself with the palms of his hands. He did not realize he was crying until he spotted the splotches of dark earth under him where his tears had fallen.

“Wait,” he begged, unsure as to why, “Do not…”

But it was too late—for what, he did not know. Not until a searing pain shot through his middle and blood pooled in his mouth. He screamed in agony but it was swallowed by the air around him, as if screaming into a vacuum. He yelled and writhed but there was no end. Only pain.

“Pangu!” A voice, different from the man in the sky, called out. Then again. Louder. “PANGU!”

The scenery ripped away and Pangu was shooting up in bed with wind whipping all around him and crashing sounds bouncing off of the walls. His arms were pinned to his sides and, in another instant, he was back on the bed, looking at the gray, stone ceiling and Kaz’s face.

Still, items flew about and the tips of the curtain burst into flames. Energy radiated off of him and the room shook before a spike of stone rose a few feet away from the bed.

“Pangu, it was just a dream!” Kaz adjusted his hold on him, pinning each wrist down on either side of him and then he held onto his hands, thinking that might be the source of the power. But that, of course, did nothing as Pangu’s energy was everywhere. “Pangu, stop!”

He was aware of what was happening but he could not stop it. His body felt like it was full of lightning and Kaz was just hoping to make a difference. When he realized that just holding onto his hands accomplished nothing, he lifted Pangu back up, just slightly, so he could wrap his arms around him and bring him into an embrace.

“It is okay…it is over.” His grip was nearly crushing and, once it started to hurt, the wind died down. A few things still flew from one side to the other but it was not as chaotic.

Pangu held him back and squeezed. “Tighter,” he requested, “tighter!”

Only the pain of being constricted in Kaz’s arms was diluting his energy. But, Kaz realized soon enough that he was hurting Pangu so he tried a different approach.

“Parvati! Help!”

***

The meeting was early in the morning and May was already irritated to be present. She had to dress in some of her best robes and Sunny was dolled up as well to her right. It was very rare to have one of them in a meeting and May could not remember a time they were both summoned for one. Especially not any time in the past decade.

It was a special occasion although not an especially happy one.

May bit down on the inside of her mouth as the lanky, unimpressive son of Oma Ferdan Dist presented himself. Raiden. She liked the name itself but it was given to such a sorry specimen. He could barely stand straight and he struggled with looking anyone in the eyes.

“Sunny, May, please welcome Raiden into our home. He will be staying with us and getting to know you while we prepare for the wedding.” The Queen smirked, looking quite smug.

“Where is his father?” May asked and then smirked right back at her parents’ horrified faces. They should have known she would speak out of turn. She always did. It was why she was not allowed in meetings like this anymore.

“He does not have the time or leisure to leave his post for this,” her father answered with a stern glare.

“How do we know this is Raiden then?” May pointed to the man. “Does he have proof?”

She and her personal guards had already discussed the possibility that the entire marriage plan was some cover for a more sinister plot. With the King not even making the trip, she was all the more suspicious. She had met Raiden once, when they were much younger, but she did not know how he looked as an adult. For all she knew, this man in front of her could have been a convincing enough look-a-like, sent to slit her throat on their wedding night.

“May!” the King yelled, “You will show your fiancé respect.”

Her mother then turned to the guest, “We are so sorry. Our May is free spirited and tends to speak her mind.”

“That is no problem your majesties,” Raiden responded and bowed toward them before glancing over at May, “I understand this is all highly irregular. Some suspicions are natural.”

“And why is it not Sunny who is put up for marriage?” May asked although she knew the answer. Really, she did not understand why her sister had been dragged into the meeting in the first place. May was at least involved in the topic at hand. Sunny was not.

“You know why,” the Queen retorted, “A man of Raiden’s intellect and social grace could not possibly take her for a wife.”

“You brought her here just to insult her then?”

“We brought her here because she is a part of this family,” the King snapped, “Raiden will be her brother in marriage and we do not wish to keep this news from her.”

May’s eyes cut to her sister who looked down and was clasping her hands together with a great force. She was doing her best to keep still since she knew she would be yelled at if she acted out of line. May could see the glassiness of her eyes.

Unlike May, Sunny did want to get married—one day. They had talked of it before, and especially lately due to the marriage news. It was clear Sunny was jealous in a way and wished she was the one getting a husband. She knew May was upset by it and tried to take her place but, of course, their parents would never allow it. They saw her as a child and a burden.

Having her present just felt needlessly cruel.

“It is a pleasure to be reacquainted with you both,” Raiden said after a moment but that broke Sunny. Her shoulders started to shake and she sucked in a harsh breath before the sobs came.

“Guards,” the Queen called out, “Take Sunny back to her chamber, please.”

“Wait, what is the matter?” Raiden asked.

“She is simple. She does not understand all of our words,” the King answered.

May’s jaw all but snapped in half with the force she put behind her bite. She held fire in her eyes as she glared at her parents. “You always do this! You always treat her like a toddler! Just because she has trouble sometimes and cannot articulate herself all the time does not mean she is not an adult!” Her hands balled into fists and she shook. “She is a woman just like I am! She should rule before me, by all rights, this is her destiny but because you do not understand her—because you do not believe in her, she is robbed of that! You selfish cunts!”

She ran to her sister who was wailing openly and she grabbed her wrist to pull her away. They ran through the hall, stopping occasionally for May to try and calm Sunny which usually meant apologizing for yelling.

Some of the tears had stopped but she was still sobbing and breathing heavy. No guards were sent after them and she was sure her parents were bemoaning their terrible children and groveling before the prince for his forgiveness.

May burst through Kaz’s room, knowing that Pangu would be inside. “I do not care how far along you are!” she shouted into the vacant lounge, “I need you to kill my parents right now!”

Rather than just Pangu and Kaz walking out from the bedroom, there were three extra figures, one of which was Fujin. May looked between them, her rage simmering but not dissipating.

Parvati was one of the people she did not expect but, beside her, was a man cloaked in a dark robe which hid his face. He must have been using some sort of magic because, no matter how he turned his head, there was not even a glimpse of skin underneath. It was like a black abyss.

“Princess,” Parvati opened with and walked over to her, offering a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Pangu needs to have his abilities properly honed. He had an accident this morning where he could not control anything. To have him use his powers on your parents now could see you killed by accident.”

It was not, at all, what she wanted to hear but she looked over at Sunny and calmed down. Her sister still cried—a few tears occasionally ran down her cheeks—but she was okay.

“I might have overreacted,” May hated to say, “but they were being so mean to Sunny. It is not fair.”

“I know,” Parvati cooed and rubbed up and down her shoulder.

Fujin walked closer. “I am sorry I was not there.”

The temperature in the room dropped and no one spoke for a while. Sunny still sniffed and May breathed slowly but heavily. Pangu, rattled from his morning, held onto Kaz for support who did not seem, at all, bothered by the physical touch.

Ever since the incident in the morning, Kaz had let Pangu lean on him, even making the first move to touch Pangu’s arm or shoulder in order to check in with him. Even after Parvati showed up, to answer his call, and even when she brought forth a stranger from the shadows.

The wind had still whipped around Pangu, throwing only lighter objects, maybe, but he could not turn it off. No matter how tightly Kaz gripped his hand or how reassuringly Parvati had spoken to him.

That was when the newcomer stepped forward.

“So, who is this?” May asked, her eyes on them now.

“My partner,” Parvati answered and smirked. “You can call him Cuad for now. He can, much better than I, help Pangu become reacquainted with his Xiang abilities.”

It was, so far, true. The moment he had held Pangu’s hands, all of the wind died and a stillness settled in him. Kaz watched with equal parts confusion and fascination all while Pangu attempted to get a glimpse under the hood.

Not even a faint outline was visible in the darkness.

Still, Pangu felt he knew him—the pull in his heart told him that well enough but the way he spoke to him also indicated that they had known one another. It was even more frustrating than the familiarity that he felt around Sha-Parvati.

With Cuad, he swore he could almost remember.

Like a word on the tip of his tongue.

[fuckcanonthatshitsucks]

[ezrisdax-archive]

for I cannot breathe in your grave (I do not belong there)

it’s just ezri introspection, also here on ao3

There's a grave for Jadzia on Bajor. Ezri knows she's not supposed to know there is but it's well kept by Kira and blue flowers find their way there every week. On Trill they don't keep graves for those joined. Jadzia's name is put on a wall under the Dax symbiont, wiped clean every week with a sterile touch and one day Ezri's name will go on that wall too.

But really she thinks, Bajor would be nicer.

~~

Leeta is the one who told her about it.

Offhandedly, like it was nothing that every week Kira picked up the flowers from Keiko – never replicated, always grown by a friend and alive – and made her way back to Bajor when there was so much work to be done on the station still.

“I think it reminds her.” Leeta had said, setting another glass in front of Ezri. “It’s important to us Bajorans to talk to those we love, even after they leave.”

Ezri stared at the glass and wondered if she’d be able to keep the liquid inside it down if she even tried.

~~

Klingons don’t talk to the dead.

Honour the dead certainly.

But they don’t talk to the dead and they certainly don’t keep graves.

Jadzia loved Klingons but she loved Bajorans too.

~~

The first time she tried to ask Kira about it the words scrambled between her head and her throat.

“I want to see Jadzia.”

Kira had frozen, the padd in her hand flashing information on the screen too brightly for such a conversation.

Ezri shut her eyes and sighed.

“I mean-” She tried again. “I just-”

Really what would she even say.

“Nevermind.”

It isn’t like Jadzia can even hear her.

~~

Some times she looks in the mirror and for a second sees someone else’s eyes staring back at her.

“It could be worse.” She says just to psych herself up. “It could be Joran.”

The joke falls flat but she thinks Jadzia would have laughed just the same.

~~

Trills keep people alive by symbionts.

The past lives in them, the things they learn passed down from one host to another.

It isn’t fair Jadzia didn’t get to pick her own successor.

It isn’t fair that Ezri didn’t get a choice either.

It isn’t fair.

It isn’t-

~~

“You don’t have to go alone.” Ezri tries again, a month later when the raktajino is cooling between them and she tries to count the breaths between when she talks and Kira does but the number is too high and she’s lost track.

She does that a lot.

“Ezri.” Kira says her name shorter, sharper than Jadzia’s own. Or maybe that’s just how it feels. Too little of it and not enough.

Wasn’t it hers before all this though?

“It’s nothing.” She forces a smile, “Forget about it.”

~~

And Ezri can picture the conversation:

"Where's Ezri?" "She went to visit-" Kira will struggle for a moment, trying to think of what word to say. "Family." Miles will immediately frown because he’s met her family and he knows what they’re like, "She'll be back soon right?" He’ll ask, brusquely enough to hide his concern but still clear for all to see. "She's not staying there?" Kira's breath will catch in her throat at the sudden idea of it. Ezri buried under rocks and gravel and next to Jadzia because at the end of the day they are friends and Kira cares and she cares and she cares.

Except of course Jadzia wasn't actually buried on Bajor. It was just a rock marked with her name to make Kira feel better. Another ghost with a solid finish on Bajor soil that Kira could pretend belonged to her. "No." Kira will say eventually, her voice steady but her heart shaking in her chest. "She's not."

One day Ezri might though.

~~

Jadzia did not know who she was when this first began.

It’s a comforting thought but Ezri isn’t certain she deserves it.

She’s trying to anyway.

~~

“Old man.” Sisko says like nothing has changed but everything has.

“It’ll be just like old times. Except different.” Ezri had said because her mouth is always faster than both her head and her heart.

These memories don’t belong to her but they are hers.

She’s different.

~~

Kira reaches over to grasp Ezri’s wrist, like she’s both offering comfort and trying to make sure Ezri doesn’t disappear between the gaps of her fingers.

No matter how many times she tries Ezri can’t remember the last thing Jadzia said to Kira. It was probably a joke, accompanied by a tiny smirk.

Maybe some day those will be her last words to Kira too.

“I can…give you the coordinates.” Kira says, not looking away from Ezri. Her eyes are sad, worn out both from this war and from loss and this very conversation.

The last thing Ezri wants to do is place more burden on her friends.

She wants to say the right thing though that’s never been her specialty. She wants to comfort Kira and assure her that Jadzia did love her and loved this station and loved Bajor and just loved.

“Thank you.” She ends up settling for, the words ashen in her mouth but grateful all the same.

~~

She could take a shuttle or a transporter or even Worf would take her on the Defiant and Sisko would allow it and-

She tries to go back to sleep but the thoughts keep racing in her mind to keep her awake.

~~

“What do humans say to the dead?” She asks both Julian and Miles, another slip of the tongue that brings a conversation to a dead halt.

“Anything we think they need to hear.” Miles mutters after a minute into his mug, refusing to look at either of them.

“I’ve never really known.” Julian admits. “I’ve always just talked however I feel like it.”

Miles jumps on that and then they start bickering and Ezri laughs because she can.

~~

Her heart hurts.

It’s just phantom pains, nothing to worry about.

Ezri excels at worrying anyway.

~~

"I'm not you." Ezri says to the stone at her feet. So much smaller than her but the presence looming in her mind. "And I'm not trying to be. I think everyone's figured that out by now. I hope they have." Slowly she sits down, reaching a hand out to trace a familiar name - her name once upon a life time ago, and wasn't that just tragedy that all the potential and vibrancy of Jadzia was just a name in a stone now. "They're doing okay. They miss you obviously." Ezri pulled her hand back and her fingers twitched with restless energy. "They'll always miss you." "I think," Ezri began without really thinking about it. "We could have gotten along. All though I'd never eat gagh with you, I don't know how you can stand it. But I think..." Ezri trailed off and stared at the flowers next to the grave. Blue like Jadzia's eyes; blue like her own and it was such a simple comparison in the grand scheme of things. "I think a lot of things." Ezri settles on. "So I hope you're ready to listen." Except of course Jadzia would. Both the real version of her and the last wisps of her in memories of Ezri's minds. Memories Ezri would cherish and keep for all her life even as she made her own.

~~

Jadzia Dax has a grave on Bajor.

Ezri Dax lives on where she can not.

(Really. She’s doing her best at it.)

[shaydeoffical]

Bright as a Diamond. Shinso Hitoshi x Fem Reader: Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

Chapter Summary: (Y/N) wakes up in the hospital after our last chapter. Maybe Shinso isn’t an asshole all the time. Maybe he’s got a redeemable quality after all. 

Series Summary:  

When (Y/N)’s co-worker decided to send a picture of her making a diamond to the paper, her life was over. Gemstone based quirks weren’t all that rare, but being able to make a diamond put a target on her back. After years of hiding in the city, it’s time to hide in the countryside with her Uncle Shota Aizawa and his more than ‘roommate’ Hizashi Yamada. With the promise of training her to be self-sufficient, she’s ready to learn.

Author Note: I cut this chapter in two as it got to big, and the next chapter will be a lot to handle. So I tried to add some softer moments in this chapter. Enjoy

Warning: Mentions of being drugged, mentions stalker, mentions of urination on self.

Last chapter: Chapter Six

Next Chapter:: Chapter Eight 

The Barrage

     "You didn't tell mom?" I sat up with a start, chest racing. Three men were sitting around my bed, my hospital bed. "Wait, what's happening?" I gripped my head and looked away from the window. A dense fog had settled in over my mind, and situations blurred.  

   "What do you remember?" Shota leaned forward, gritting his teeth.

   Shinso shut the blinds, and I could see just how upset Hizashi looked. His puffy cheeks and red eyes, whatever had happened, must have scared him… scared.

   My stuffed animal burning. Hips blistered. More incentives just kept me frozen.

   Hands around my throat. Warm bubbly blood. Begging. There was always begging.

   "It's okay," Shinso had his fingers pressed to my forehead, and I centered my focus. The fog cleared, and the scent of coffee brought back what happened.

   "My work friend. He found me at the cafe, we were going to meet up later so I could see his apartment. He bought me a coffee. Said he added sugar because I was so sweet, but I hate coffee, and I declined. Then he dragged me to a comic shop." Rubbing the sides of my head, I chewed my lip trying to remember.

   Shinso's face flashed through my memory, and I focused on other details. Like the gravels in my knees, and the midnight plush. "He was trying to buy me an Eraserhead poster, but I have them all. But I didn't tell him that. Instead, I picked up Shinso's debut buttons, and Kira tore them from me. Then- I got mad, but I don't- it was a Midnight plushie. He said Midnight and I were both curvy, and I corrected him. He had both drinks in his hand with the plush under his arm. Next, a shop attendant came to ask me for something, and Kira went off about how cool my quirk was, and I didn't work for free. "I gripped my sheets, falling back into the bed wincing. "I'm an idiot."

   "It's that all you remember?" Shota ignored my self-degradation, pushing my hair behind my ear.

   "Shinso." The boy perked up and turned from the blind he'd been fiddling with. The bags under his eyes were notable than before.

   "I remember Shinso saving me." The lint ball wasn't totally insufferable, he had proved that today. It might have been his job, but I was grateful. "Thanks, I owe you a couple."

   "Don't mention it." I figured he'd gloat, but instead, he picked up his coat and slunk to the door. "I'm running to the convince store, any requests?"

   "Anything with caffeine," Shota sighed, leaning back in his chair.

   "I'm good, (Y/n)?" Hizashi glanced me.

   There was no way I'd ask Shinso for a damn thing before today, but maybe. "Chocolate, anything that will wash the taste of coffee out of my mouth, really."

   "Got it." He closed the door on the way out. I pulled my blanket up higher, feeling exposed.

   "So, what happened after I went down?" There was a lemon-lime soda on my bedside, and I gently sipped it, feeling the rawness of my throat.

   "You were taken to the hospital and had your stomach bumped for retinol." That explained the pain. Shota continued, "Kira got away, unfortunately. We'll have to be careful till he's caught. Did you tell him where we live?"

   "No, I said I was in the city. He believed me because I was biking to work every day. Oh snap, work is going to be super awkward. Like will he show up, or will I be promoted to his position." The possibilities were endless, I could even be fired for causing this. I've brought enough trouble to the company as is.

   "It wasn't a real jewelry shop." A man with a dog's face entered the room, totting a notebook. "I'm police chief, Kenji Tsuragamae, and I've been aware of a new jewelry shop in town. It was only open for a few hours each day, and we suspected it was a cover-up store. You were let go from Kale's Jewelry last month, and you were made to believe you had a position here. This is a very extreme case of predatory stalking."

   "Oh." I nodded, things clicking together. "Oh. I see… so I really am a dunce, huh?" Hizashi took my hand and pushed my hair from my face.

   "You're so bright and trusting, it's not a reflection of you." Hizashi coddled me, pressing his forehead to mine, rubbing my shoulder. The closeness was the only thing preventing me from crying.

   "We're going to make you sharper", Shota promised me, clasping both my hands. "For now, you need to heal and answer some questions."

   Mr. Tsuragamae's questions went by quickly. Things like how long I had known Kira, did he have any friends, what was his daily routine at work. Once he was done, my head was spinning again, and I was ready for a nap. The more I answered, the more apparent how much I overlooked earlier in our association.  

   Shinso returned soon after, bearing an energy drink for Shota, and a caramel-filled chocolate bar for me. The caramel did the trick, and soon all I could taste was the silky-smooth texture of liquid chocolate and caramel. While eating, Shinso went back to looking out the window, his back tense. He was such an ass, but even he knew when to tone it back.  

   "Can we go home?" I broke the silence, fidgeting with the hem of my gown. There was no reason for me to sit in an uncomfy bed and be miserable.  

   "I'll go ask the doctor." Shota took the initiative and left to chase my doctor down.

   The nurses had brought me more pain meds earlier and checked me over. But overall, I had been left to my own devices. I could be miserable in my own bed at the least. From what I gathered, Shinso got me to the hospital fast enough that the pills hadn't fully entered my bloodstream.

   Hizashi and Shinso had their own little conversation about Shinso's current mission, and I settled for finding my phone. The battery was dead and would stay that way till I got home. It had done enough by getting me help. Still, I wanted to look busy, so I used my sheet to wipe the screen off and shine the case.  

   "You can go home," an older nurse had followed Shota into the room." The last round of blood work came back clean. I must say you're a very lucky girl. If that boy hadn't got you in here so fast, you'd be comatose. There was enough retinol in your system to kill three men."

   "He's not half bad," I agreed, noting the odd smile from Hizashi to Shota. "I've been worse for wear before, but this was something new. Guess I can cross this off my 'never have I ever list'. Now to get home and beseech Hisoka for affection. Plus, get some real rest."

   "We'll be back in a few minutes with your papers." The nurse scribbled something on my chart before shutting the door behind her.

"I assume you want to wear the gown home?" Hizashi pushed my shoes onto my feet and tied my laces.

"Can't I wear the outfit I had on?" I asked, getting to my feet, wavering before Hizashi had his arm around me. The three men than froze, looking for the other to say something. "What is it?"

"You pissed yourself." My face went blood red as Shinso broke it to me, holding a plastic bag, that I assumed had my outfit in it.

"No." I crooked my head, scrunching my face together.

"That's just the cherry on the cake." Hizashi grinned, trying to make it easier.

"We all have accidents. under extreme circumstances." Shota took the bag from Shinso and tucked it under his coat.

"Can, can you just toss it. I don't want you to have to deal with that." I laid my head on Hizashi's shoulder and thought of Shinso carrying me earlier...I wanted to vanish. It didn't help that Lint Ball was giving me a pitiful look.

"Washing them is no problem, pro heroes wet themselves all the time. Right Sho?" Hizashi lead me to the door as a nurse brought a wheelchair.

"Not all the time." Shota held tight to the bag and paled.

"Can we just change the topic?" Sitting in the chair, I slumped my shoulders and made sure to keep my gown over my knees.

"The weather's nice." Shinso offered, handing me a peppermint from his pocket.

"It was nice this morning, for sure." Humming, I wiggled my toes in my shoes, forcing a smile.

"Tomorrow will be even better." Shinso insisted, holding open the door to the outside.

"I think so too." Hizashi chimed in, going to get the car to pick us up. The notion that tomorrow would put this behind me was comforting. I'd have to deal with the fall out Akira caused, but he couldn't run forever.

[bewaretheundead91]

Devenford Prep Part 37

Listen to: Human by Aquilo

Parts 1-36

A/N: I’m sorry that it’s been a while since I’ve updated and I’m sorry if the beginning is a mess because I’ve been all over the place recently. I’ve rewritten and rewritten this update so many times because I want it to go the way I want it to go and I want it to feel genuine. The tences are a mess in this and there may be errors I’ve missed, but I hope you enjoy it and I hope it is going the way you want it to go. So I also might have gotten Brett’s sister’s name wrong this whole time and I am also sorry about that.

This is a pretty long update...you’ve been warned.

Also please send any reviews/thoguhts to my inbox if you have any.

Lori runs ahead and Brett runs after her. He runs in-between school buses, dodging arrows being shot at them. Hands grab him and shove him against a bus. He falls to the ground with a splash. Lifting his head up his eyes reveal their glow. He jumps up and punches a figure in the face then makes a run for it. He pauses when he see his sister in the center of the lacrosse field.

“Lorie!” He shouts and quickly steps in front of her. “Close your eyes”

“What is it Brett?”

“Don’t look!” Arrows whistle in the air and shoot toward them. Quickly you run out into the field with Scott shouting not to. You jump up and land on top of both Brett and Lorie leaving the arrows to flying over them. Brett and Lorie harshly hit the wet grass. You look up to see more arrows.

“Stay down!” You order and Brett lifts his head up to see a new cloud of arrows heading their way. “There are more!”

The arrows come to a halt when a sword slices them in the air. Kira.

“Run!” Kira shouts. “Get to the car!”

Brett shoots his head toward your direction and shoves his sister in front of him. They set off running toward your direction leaving Kira in the field swinging at arrows. 

“Come on!” Scott shouts. “Get in!”

Kira starts off running toward the car. Everyone gets in and Scott pulls out of the school.

“What happened out there?!” You shout at Brett who’s sister was clinging to him. Her eyes look at you wildly. “Why were you still at the school?”

“I was getting ready to leave to take Lorie, my sister, home after the game. She wanted to stop by somewhere to grab something to eat first, but as I was about to leave the locker room when someone ambushed me.”

“An assassin?” Kira asks. “A whole group of assassins.”

You go silent for the rest of the car ride. You were shaking and feeling nauseous from Brett and his sister almost being killed not to mention his scent was everywhere in the car. You wanted to claw at your skin or stand beneath a scolding hot shower to wash it off of you. Scott parks the car in the driveway of his house and you practically kicked the door open and hop out. Without even speaking to anyone you head around to back of the house.

“Y/N!” Scott shouts stepping away from his car. “Where are you going we have a lot to discuss. I’ve got to contact Argent! And Satomi.”

“Let me go after her.” Brett looks over towards the darkness you had just walked into. He turns back to Scott with a warm smile across his face and places a hand on your alpha’s shoulder.

“Maybe that’s a good idea,” Scott says. “I don’t know what you two have as far as a friendship or relationship, but it’s clearly something deep. When she came here earlier she was on edge about something. She also felt like something was off when you hadn’t arrived soon after her.”

“Oh yeah?” Brett asks.

“It was like she just knew you were in danger.”

You make your way to the backyard and step beneath the back deck taking cover from the rain. You had never seen Scott’s backyard, but the surrounding outdoor lights lit it up pretty well enough to see a patio with simple outdoor furniture that probably didn’t get much use. The rain was refreshing against your nose and a desperate break from Brett’s strong scent. It especially felt nice against your feverish skin. It was a fine mist now, swirling around in clouds in the light. 

A headache had started in your head from the close contact with the tall boy and after the scare on the lacrosse field you felt like collapsing and even sleeping it off. You shake your head trying to guess how much you cared for the Devenford Prep lacrosse player. Did you love him? You certainly cared enough to jump on top of him and his sister before they were pelted with arrows. Cared enough for him to save him multiple times in the past two months alone.

A series of footsteps against the leave covered ground breaks you from you thoughts. You could smell him and you roll your eyes in annoyance. Brett.

“What’s up with you?” Brett asks sounding defensive. His eyes illuminate yellow and you jump in reaction. You turn around leaving your back to him then take a step forward to create more distance. “You seemed weird earlier tonight and then just now. You even scared Lorie. I’m sure you scared Scott and Kira. That wasn’t cool. I know you’re still new to this, but you’ve got to work on it. And I want to help you.”

“I’m fine, the last thing you need to worry about is me. We need to contact Satomi and your parents about what happened. Let them know that you and Lori are safe,” You say taking another step forward away from him. You squeeze your hands into fists and feel your claw slice into your skin. You hiss. The pain calmed your nerves and inner feelings for a second. You look up towards the sky. “I just came out here to breath. I’ll be in soon. Promise.”

“Yeah?” He asks making his way over to you. He extends a hand out to touch your arm. “Is that really it?”

“Yeah Brett, that is really it.” You snap and move from his touch.

“Then why do you keep walking away from me?” He asks taking another step forward to catch up to you. “Are you trying to avoid me now?”

“I think that’s sort of impossible for me at this point.” You glare at him with glowing eyes.

“Then what is it?” Brett asks. “It’s just me Y/N.”

“Honestly it’s nothing important.” You nod.

“Okay, but can you tell me why you smell like Scott? Why are you wearing his clothes?” Even in the dark you could see him looking you up and down. “What happened to my jersey?”

“It’s in my car don’t worry about that.” You answer and take in a deep breath hoping the rain would cloud your nose. It didn’t. You took in Brett’s scent you feel your you teeth getting sharper. You place your hand over your mouth.

“Why aren’t you wearing it right now?”

“Don’t worry about it Brett, damn it!” You yell and run a hand through your tangled, wet, messy hair. You walk to the other side of the patio creating a larger distance between the two of you. He turns around and watches you. “I didn’t want to get it gross. It was raining out.”

“It’s a jersey, it’s meant to get muddy and wet. Why are you acting like this?” He asks crossing his arms. You were starting to feel anxious and your skin irritated. You wanted the feeling to go away. “And why do you keep walking away from me? What has made you change? We were joking around at school just earlier today. And you even talked to my parents.”

You take another step away and take in a deep breath hoping it would calm you and make your claw disappear. You could hear the conversation going on inside of the house. Scott was really sounding concerned and Liam was pacing. You should have just gone inside to avoid this conversation.

“Let’s just go inside now,” You suggest taking a couple of steps toward the house. “Scott needs us to head out to some warehouse owned by some guy named Chris Argent.”

“Oh no you don’t,” Brett jogs after you. “We aren’t going anywhere until you talk to me. You owe me that after everything I’ve done for you. Who knows what can happen tonight and I can’t have our friendship ruined over something that isn’t making any sense to me.”

“It’s you, damn it!” You blurt out throwing your hands on the top of your head. You turn around to fully face him. You knew your face was blood red. “Brett It’s you, you are what’s wrong with me.”

“Me?” Brett asks pointing at himself.

“Everything about you is driving me crazy,” You say as you walk up to him. You stop a foot away from of him. “Ever since you gave me that damn jersey and asked me to wear it to the game in the hallway today.”

“What was wrong with my jersey?” He asked concerned.

“It smells like you!” You hiss through your teeth and fling up your hands sporting your claws. “And when you hugged me tonight I started shifting and I can’t control it anymore. I was so confused because it was never like this before. You usually calm me down not rile me up as much as you used to. The jersey was making me feel…a lot…your sweat was…I could have ripped my hair out if I hadn’t left school after your game. You want to talk about scaring people. I scared Erika in the parking lot.”

Brett laughs and looks up towards the sky shaking his head. He lowers his gaze back down to you biting his bottom lip. You turn around and start to stomp away from him angry and humiliated. It was like your face was on fire.

“I knew this was stupid. I shouldn’t have said anything!” You shout. “Forget about what I said Brett. It has to be the full moon coming up soon. We have more important things to worry about. We should go check on your sister.”

“No don’t go! Wait!” Brett grabs your hand and pulls your body towards him. His arms snake around your back to gently hold you place. He lean in toward your shoulder and presses his face to the crook of your neck and shoulder. You freeze. His nose trails up your neck until he reaches your ear, your body goes hot again. He talks against your skin and you feel his lips moving. “You don’t even have to tell me, I can smell it on you. I could smell it at the game. Babe you’re really turned on right now. This is apart of what we needed to talk about.”

“What? I’m what?” You force out, with the feeling you could throw up. It was like there were birds flapping around in your stomach. Could his parents smell it? You press your hands against his chest and release yourself out of his grasps. You start to fall forward feeling a rush of adrenaline flow through your body. “This is just…I…oh my god. You could tell? You knew? I think I’m going to pass out.”

“Hey look at me,” Brett reaches out to you before you fall to the ground. You scramble to get away from him, but he quickly turns your body towards him. “Y/N, look at me please. It’s okay. You shouldn’t be embarrassed. It’s normal. Trust me when I say it’s normal.”

You cover your eyes and slowly peak through your fingers to see his eyes were still bright yellow, but his brows were furrowed now. You remove your hands completely to see him roll his eyes and smirk. That very smirk makes your stomach flip.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this, but breath in,” He says with a sigh. “What do you smell?”

“I uh…” You say looking to the side and then down at the ground.

“Do it, before I regret this.” His voice softens.  

He drops his arms from around your back and you stand up straight. Awkwardly, you take a deep breath in and smell the rain and then a particular scent hit your nose. Your mouth starts to salivate in reaction and chill bumps start to speckle across your skin. You swallow hard. He smelled so good, so enticing that you whole body was reacting.

“Do you not smell how much I want you?” He asks scratching the back of his neck. He was embarrassed and you could feel the heat radiating off of his body even through his cold wet clothes. “I figured you would have known by now, but you’re still new to all of this. Yes you’ve been smelling me because I can’t control it around you anymore. When my mom told you that she could smell my scent on you she thought it was out of protection. It wasn’t just out of that, it was because…I’ve always felt like we were more than just friends…I mean I never tried anything with you..and I understand how this can make you well all frenzied.”

“Frenzied?” Nervously you start to laugh. “That’s what we are calling it? How can you understand?”

Brett Talbot claiming he likes you was a joke, a punch line. You could see his eyes on your mouth much like the night he had been infected by an aggressive form of wolfs bane. You shake your head and start to walk away, but Brett latches an arm around your waist and pulls you close to him again. You close your eyes tremble at how close you were to him again, you could feel the outline of his chest and muscular stomach against your body. He places a hand on your cheek and guides your face toward his coming towards yours, gently. 

“Open your eyes Y/N, you’re not the only one who has been struggling,” Brett says as he leans down and presses his forehead to yours. He breaths in your scent and sighs again. You feel the tense muscles in your back slowly loosen and the nerves in your stomach flutter off. He makes eye contact with and cautiously presses his lips to yours. Your heart stops for a split second then goes into over drive beating loudly in your ears. Or was it Brett’s own heart? He looks back up at you and smiles, there was so much warmth in it. “Now do you know? Can you feel it? Please know.”

You were feeling something, you wanted to kiss him again and to get as close to him as possible. There were tears forming in the corner of your eyes and memories of all the situations you two had been through, all the gentle touches and embraces and all of the strange protective behavior he showed you.

He breaths in deeply and his eyes lose their gentle expression only to be replaced with one of longing and desire. Brett goes in for another kiss, opening his mouth to take you in. You boldly match his movement and move your lips against his deepening the kiss, tasting him. Taking him in. You hear a growl escape his mouth and you shiver. Giving in you push him towards siding of Scotts house, harshly.

Your mouth starts to move more aggressively against his and his hands snake up rake through your wet hair. His tongue daringly, runs across your lower lip and your find your hands meeting his sides and slip beneath his wet shirt. Even with the chill of the night and the wet clothes he was wearing, his skin was on fire and almost burnt your finger tips. You want more of that heat. Brett grabs your thighs and hoists your body up easily and naturally you wrap your legs around his waist. Quickly latch your arms around his neck to steady yourself. Brett cautiously licks at your bottom lip and you accept his tongue into your mouth. The very same feeling of wanting to eat him alive prickles all over your body and you remove your lips from his. You peer down at him.

Brett’s body was almost limp against the house with closed eyes. His lips were swelling and parted with quick breaths. It was like a dream. A fever dream. This lit a fire that rushed through out your body. You open your mouth and had to taste his skin that smelled so delectable. Breathing him wasn't enough and kissing his mouth wasn’t helping you either. You bring your face to the side of his neck and press your lips to it gentle and his body jolts. You trail your closed mouth up to his pulse point and open your lips to suck on his pulse point. His breathing became short and loud. You rake your teeth across his skin. Wolf fangs. Quickly you close your mouth and start to feel more clear headed and haze lift. Luckily you hadn’t broken the skin.

“Y/N,” He breaths and lifts his head up to expose his neck more. “I didn’t know it was this bad.”

You move your head up from his neck and he parts his lips. He leans out towards your face and kisses you again and you feel the wave of desire rush over you again. He moves positions and slams your back to side of the house and you let out a yelp. 

“Oh my god,” You say breaking away from his lips. “I’m so sorry Brett. We can’t do this…right…now. Is this real?”

“Y/N, it’s okay we both wanted this!”

Your legs unwrap from around his waist and you hop down and land on the ground softly. You wipe your mouth on the back of your hand and start to hurt all over, wanting to be close to him again. Brett looks at your confused. You set off towards the front of the house and practically rip the front door open meeting the bright lights of the living room.

“Is everything okay?” Erika asks sitting on the couch.

Brett walks into the house after you, wiping his mouth and adjusting his shirt that had somehow road. You see Erika look you up and down and the look Brett up and down.

“Oh okay.” Erika says, shaking her head.

“What happened? Is there an assassin outside?” Liam asks. “Why do you look like that Y/N? Brett?”

Liam looks at you and squints his eyes and then back over towards Brett. He opens his mouth to start and say something, but doesn’t. He crosses his arms instead.

“It’s okay Liam, don’t.” Erika says.

Both you and Brett shoot Erika a glare and then Liam. You make your way to the bathroom and Erika bursts in after you. She shuts the door and you look at your appearance in the mirror. Your hair was in nots and the shirt Scott had given you to wear was stretched out a bit. Your lips were swollen and skin red. You adjust the shirt and try to fix your hair.

“What happened between you and Brett?” Erika asks.

“It got heated,” You say sitting down on the closed toilet. “Like really heated. Like surprisingly heated.”

“What do you mean? Did you guys like do it?” She asks cocking her head.

“No!” You shout with large eyes. “But if I hadn’t stopped us I’m sure something would have happened tonight.”

“Excuse me?” 

“I stopped him. This isn’t us, we don’t do this,” You say resting your elbows on your knees and then rest your head on your hands. “Brett and I we don’t kiss. Brett is popular and captain of the lacrosse team. He’s got muscles and girls and I’m pretty sure guys going crazy after him. He could have anyone. But being so close to him, it just-”

“Felt good?”

“It felt natural and relieving. Like it was supposed to happen,” You raise your head back up and make eye contact with her. “But it doesn’t erase all the stuff we went through, it doesn’t erase all the terrible things he has done to me and even Liam. This can’t make amends.”

“Babe, he already has,” Erika leans against the bathroom counter. “And you already know that. He’s helped you and Liam. You’re just making excuses for yourself not being enough or him being enough.”

“He is too enough for me,” You pinch the bridge of your nose. “He’s done so much without me asking or really saying thank you.”

“That sounds a lot like love.” Erika whispers.

“Love?” You choke. “We’re too young, too new to this. He should be with someone who knows what they are doing with this sort of thing, being a werewolf. I could hurt him…I could…I don’t know.”

“Y/N,” Erika places a hand on your shoulder. “Listen to me, he was there when you were the most out of control, you can’t hurt him.”

“Y/N,” Scott calls through the bathroom. “We’ve got to go.”

[bayern-moni]

Pair Questions part 1/2 featuring Gin and Aizen

This time no ship intended, but it will be rectified in another post. Enjoy ~

Who steals the covers at night?

Gin. He's a cold blooded creature, literally and metaphorically. His skin always feels too cold not to bury himself in the covers for all the span of that goddamned season. He doesn't care if his claim on the covers leaves his unfortunate bedmate damned to a frosty fate all night, nor does he have problems to brutally kick out of bed whoever tried to make fun of him by putting a cold foot in the vicinity of his own. He is selfish like that and doesn't know remorse. Or maybe, he could feel sorry if that other person were the cute Izuru-chan (but then his most sadistic part would revel in the wait until his too respectful Lieutenant'd overcome his qualms and actually start to fight for the covers) or he could decide to suffer himself the cold and leave the blanket to Rangiku like he did when they lived in that shack as kids, but if that other person happened to be Aizen, then he'd have absolutely no qualms about it. The dark-haired shinigami could and would die of frostbite before Gin actually accepted to give up that pleasurable warmth. After all, the wannabe god is too superior to actually lower himself to start a pillow fight to get it or start listing actual reasons why he had a greater right than his second (stressing that word too much for his taste) to be covered by the blanket, wasn't he?

But ... was he?

Who cooks normally?

Aizen. There'd be a cold day in hell before he let this change. It took him too many years to get his little Lieutenant to understand the difference between 'survival food' and 'actual food' to afford now to have him fall back into his old habits. And the Rei-o knows what he'd do If he decided to purposely mess with the first kind of food to get a good laugh at Aizen's horrified face. Again. How could he forget that time when, during the first days of his training under Aizen's tutelage, Gin decided to thank him for his supposed generosity with a 'sumptuous lunch' (his words)? Go trust that little hellchild. Aizen's stomach wanted to vomit only at the memory of it. When the pest put the plate full of mice and insects, "killed just for the occasion" said proudly the child, in front of him he was torn between the the strong impulse to throw up and the need to examine closely Gin's body language to discern if he sincerely believed that was a satysfing meal or if he just exploited his Rukongai upbringing to make him suffer. Probably the latter.

... And those awful dried persimmons...

When he looked at the genuinely expecting and just a tad mischievous look the kid was giving him, he understood it was a balanced mix of the two. Right then, he decided two things:

Gin would never be allowed to get close to his kitchen again without a real, convincing and absolutely necessary life-or-death reason;

He had to take the problem in his own hands because: first, no way that the future king of the three worlds will ever eat something like that, ever, and, secondly, it was his duty to bring that too scrawny and bony hellion to health.

He could not have his future second in command be weak or die because of the consequences of starvation before he could make himself useful to him. It was a pragmatic matter. Regardless of all the times that moron of Hirako made fun of his attempts because "aren't you too old to play family, Sousuke-kun?" or "did you really adopt the kid, don't you? How 'cute'!". It was just that. But then he continued to encourage Gin's insatiable appetite until he was satisfied with his now not dangerous weight and even found that he really liked cooking for both of them, it was a relaxing hobby for his abused patience. Kaname's recipes and passion for cooking helped, too.

Nickname for each other?

Hellion. Wanna-be-God. Reptilian calamity. Overdramatic narcissist. And so on. Not very difficult saying who's what.

What would they get each other for gift?

Kamishini no Yari's poison A guide on "how to survive your obsessed fangirls and still look cool". A set of dried sweet potatoes to thank him for the time Gin raided his fridge of all its contents and filled it with 12 kilos of hard-boiled eggs. How he managed to put them there without making the fridge explode was beyond him, but still. He'd be sure to make Gin pay for it.

What would they do if the other one was hurt?

It depends. On what, you'd ask. It's quite simple. It depends on who is responsible for the other's wound/hurt. If it were each other, then they'd be perfectly cool with it and not bother too much for it, just plot a gruesome revenge (the other isn't so weak and unproud to make a big deal out of something so trivial like hurt, isn't he? And if they were, it'd mean that they're not worth of the other's attention like they believed). If the culprit were not one of them, though, that person would probably be eviscerated or severally maimed before they could even complete the thought "I did it!". Because only they had the right (and the power) to wound or kill the other. None of them would ever let someone else in the way of this challenge between them.

Who remember things?

Both. They have entire metaphorical archives full of blackmailing material in organized folders against each other, carefully collected for more than 109 years. Aizen-taicho hates boiled eggs, Gin felt betrayed by sweet potatoes, Aizen would never go out without having checked the exact angle of his hair lock at least twice at minute, Gin becomes skittish every time Matsumoto or that bratty Lieutenant of his come in the picture, Aizen secretly fears Hinamori's obsession with him, etc...

They both made a mental note to remember that each of these things could be useful, sooner or later.

Their thoughts on the whole Fangirl and ships topic?

Disturbing. Fascinating and distur - Hinamori! For the umpteenth time, I'm fine and no, I don't need anything. You did a great job and you can go now! - bing.

Who cusses more?

Surprisingly enough, Aizen. Actually, Gin is the one that cusses frequently, steadily and on daily basis, but only for the fun of annoying Izuru's, Aizen's and Kuchiki-taicho's noble sensibility. But when he's in that mood that makes other people cuss, he'll communicate it with icy glares, a sharper edged grin or a overall crueler behavior. On the other hand, Aizen is the one that pledges himself as above things like annoyance, rage and (especially) a "crude language so beneath my godlike status caused by irrelevant emotions like irritation", as Gin decided to put it to make fun of him. But when he's really pissed like when Urahara doesn't take action, ruins his plans or Gin writes obscene kanjis on the board during his calligraphy lessons, he'll lose all control on his legendary composure and start cussing like a sailor. Hopefully, Kyoka Suigetsu prevents people from noticing it.

How often do they fight?

As a serious fight? Once every hundred and nine years, but it's "until death do us part". As just a way to kill time? Very very often, but it's never beyond a good deal of verbal jabs. You could almost consider it as their own fond way of saying hi to each other.

Are there any foods that make their stomach upset?

For Gin, no, there aren't. At least, Aizen has been conducting a research on the topic since the infamous lunch with still no result worth of notice. Ichimaru hates some foods, doesn't like others, but, by now, his stomach's completely anesthetized even to Rangiku's cooking after being subjected to it for so many years. And that's saying something, as far as Aizen is concerned. Not that he meant to imply anything about Matsumoto's cooking abilities, of course. Overall, he'd gulp down anything if needed.

Aizen instead is very picky about his food. He's a perfectionist here, like in every other aspect of his life. There's nothing able to upset his stomach, though. And even if there was, he'd never tell a soul. Ever. Gin had not to be encouraged to do anything stupid against him, no matter what.

Who's the most irritable during an hungover?

Gin. Aizen doesn't drink anything but his beloved tea and the occasional sip of fine wine. But Gin during an hungover is something Aizen wouldn't wish on anyone, not even Yamamoto or the Rei-o. A hissy, horribly-moody, vengeful cat you just woke by stepping on its tail is a cutie puppy in comparison to him. Really, it happened once and Aizen swore Gin should never end up with nothing more alcoholic than a glass of water, never again, for his own sanity's sake. Fortunately, Gin found that if he ate a dried persimmon after the drink he shared with his dear Rangiku, he couldn't get hungover. Still to this day, Aizen wasn't entirely convinced of the scientific accuracy of this theory, but given that it didn't happen anymore, he was willing to give him credit for it.

Have they ever tried to ruin the other's dates?

Life in Soul Society is particularly monotonous. This is a fact everyone agreed with and what's at the core of the matter. So, yes, they did, but only when paperwork became so painstakingly boring that it could be seen as something funny to do. Particularly, Aizen loved calling secret meetings between himself, Kaname and Gin as soon as he knew, because he did know, that Gin was in the middle of an especially good moment during a date with Rangiku (or even during a friendly walk with that Kira) just because Aizen could. On the other hand, Gin loved making fun of Aizen's utterly missing and more-dead-than-Omaeda's love life, despite the fact that half of shinigami and the recruits desired him and the other half either belonged to Byakuya fanclub or were just lying to themselves. So, he did not so much ruin Aizen's dates as he did try to set him up with absurd dates with psychotic and obsessed fangirls and fanboys that always left Aizen baffled at how much he had underestimated people' crazyness. An "I care about your love life, taicho, I try to find a good date for you because we can't have you become an old grumpy overlord with a dog as your only company at night, can we?" my ass. Bratty moron.

[haledamage]

Breakfast at Haley’s

A coffee date between two detectives just before the start of Book 2, OR two best friends sit in a cafe and talk about boys. Kira Kingston is mine, Abigail Jenings belongs to @queen-scribbles <3 

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, CAIT!!! I was going to post this tomorrow for your actual birthday, but my internet’s gonna be down, so have a slightly early present :)

It was late morning, but quiet enough in Haley’s Bakery that Abigail and Kira managed to grab a window table. They sat in companionable silence, watching the town go about its business like nothing had changed, the murders only a couple months ago already fading from collective memory. Only the two women at the table truly knew just how much had changed.

Haley delivered their drinks and pastries before wandering off to take another order, and once she was gone Kira finally broke the silence. “It’s too fucking quiet here now,” she admitted reluctantly.

Abigail grinned, wrapping her hands around her coffee mug to let the warmth seep into her fingers. “Kira Kingston, complainin’ about th’ quiet! Wonders never cease.”

“Oh, sod off, Red,” Kira said, but there was no heat behind it. “You know what I mean.”

“You miss ‘em.” AJ didn’t need to say who ‘they’ were. Neither of them seemed to be able to think about much else besides ‘them.’

“Maybe,” Kira muttered to her lemon scone. “I didn’t say it.”

Abigail chuckled at her friend’s sour tone. “I miss ‘em too. Apartment’s too empty now, with just th’ two of us.” She took a bite of her chocolate chip muffin and glanced subtly around the bakery, making sure no one was close enough to listen in. “Have y’ heard anythin’ since…”

Kira shook her head. “No. Not even from Mum.” She leaned across the table, dropping her voice. “It’s all very suspicious, innit? What do you think they’re up to?”

“Dunno,” Abigail said with a shrug, tugging idly at a loose curl. “They said they’re stayin’ in town, right? T’ keep us safe. So they’ll be back soon.”

“I hope so. Though not as much as you do, I think,” Kira said slyly, taking a sip of her tea to hide her grin as she added, as casually as possible, “So you and Nate, hmm?”

“What?!” AJ sat up so quickly the table wiggled, making her coffee slosh in her mug, though it didn’t quite spill over. Her face turned almost as red as her hair. “How did--what are--did he say somethin’?”

“He didn’t have to. I hope you don’t think you’re being subtle, the way you stare at each other. I can see the little cartoon hearts in your eyes. It’s adorable. And nauseating.” Despite the bite to her words, Kira smiled warmly at Abigail and her clear infatuation. If anyone in the world would ever be good enough for her in Kira’s mind, it would be Nate. Still, someone had to say it and she knew Agent Jenings wouldn’t, so she added, “If he breaks your heart, I’ll kick his arse. Vampire superhealing be damned.”

“He wouldn’t,” AJ said immediately.

“No. But if he does.” Kira nudged the toe of Abigail’s boot with her own. “C’mon, AJ. Spill. You’re dying to talk about him, I know it.”

“Alright, you asked for it.” Abigail chuckled and took a drink of her coffee and then the floodgates opened. “But, I mean, you know him, Kir. He has t’ be th’ sweetest person I’ve ever met. He’s so nice--genuinely nice, not fakin’ or anythin’--t’ darn near ev’ryone I’ve ever seen him meet, an’ he’s so charmin’ and sincere about it. An’ he really cares about people, doesn’t want them hurt. He’s so empathetic, ‘specially with those eyes…” She sighed wistfully, her own dark blue eyes shining. “He has the best eyes, Kira. They’re all warm an’ carin’ an’ the most beautiful brown on God’s green earth, an’ when we’re talkin’ he looks at me like I’m th’ only thing that matters, an’ he makes me feel all special--which no one’s ever done before, not like this.”

Kira nodded encouragingly, though she knew AJ didn’t need encouragement on this particular subject.

Sure enough, she continued, a wide and happy smile spreading over her face as she did. “An’ the looks don’t hurt--you know I like tall guys, an’ those shoulders--but they’re just icin’ on th’ cake. He’s gorgeous an’ strong an’ that plays second fiddle to him bein’ so open and sweet. It’s the kindness an’ compassion an’ deep brown eyes that got me. Oh, an’ his smile. His smile makes me all warm an’ gooey inside, an’ not just ‘cause I’m fallin’ for him harder’n a rotted tree in a storm.” 

She paused long enough to take another drink of her coffee. “It just…. immediately puts you at ease, makes you feel safe, yeah? Safe an’ valued an’ like you have his undivided attention however long you want it. An’ I want it a real long time. He’s just so wonderful, Kir.” She gestured to the huge, giddy grin still on her face. “Can’t stop smilin’ whenever I so much as think of him. An’ I don’t want to, neither.”

Kira chuckled, unable to keep from smiling herself at Abigail’s infectious joy. “Oh, is that all? Don’t hold back on my account,” she teased.

AJ blushed, drawing a random pattern on the tabletop with her finger. “Well, there’s also th’ way he always knows what t’ say when people are mad or upset or other… emotionally fraught situations and checks with me if he thinks he’s makin’ me th’ least bit uncomfortable--he never is--oh, an’ his hands.” She flexed her own fingers almost subconsciously, like she could almost feel Nate’s hand in hers, but she didn’t elaborate further.

Kira was grateful. She hadn’t given much thought to Nate’s hands before, it seemed like a weird time to do so now.

“Wow.” She smirked and made a show of checking the time on her phone. “You sure that’s it, Red? We’ve still got a few minutes before we’re due to be at the station.”

Abigail chuckled, curling her hands around her coffee mug again. “You asked. Twice.” Her sweet, smitten smile turned playful. “An’ now that I’ve let m’ mouth an’ heart run away with me again, your turn, yeah? What about you an’ Adam?”

Kira scoffed, but she blushed at the same time. “Don’t be daft. There’s no me and Adam. He’s made that very goddamn clear. Doesn’t matter what I feel about it, it isn’t up to me.”

“You don’t see the way he looks at you when y’ aren’t lookin’,” AJ said encouragingly, trying to get her normally closed off friend to open up a bit. She knew she needed to, and just as much she knew that it would take a bit of a push for it to happen.

“Well, no, I wouldn’t, would I?” Kira said, a little sharper than she intended. Then, in a tiny voice, speaking more to the table than to her friend, she added, “How… how does he look at me?”

“Th’ same way I look at Nate.”

“Really?” Kira hated how hopeful that single word sounded. She scowled at no one in particular - or at least, no one in the bakery; it wasn’t hard to figure out who she would be scowling at, if he were there. “Ugh. He’s the most pig-headed, arrogant bastard I’ve ever met. I’m glad you shot him. I should have fucking shot him.”

“An’ you’re in love with him,” Abigail said plainly. One of them had to say it.

“And I’m in love with him.” It took a second for the words to sink in, and when they did Kira covered her face with both hands and groaned. "Oh fuck, I am, aren’t I? How do I make it stop?"

Abigail reached across the table to pat Kira on the arm. "I don’t think it works like that."

Kira was quiet for a long time, long enough that AJ started to wonder if she was going to say anything at all, but she waited her out, eating her muffin in silence while she put her thoughts together.

"He’s got the prettiest eyes," Kira muttered all of a sudden, as if the words escaped against her will. But once she started talking, she couldn't seem to stop. "You know wintergreen’s always been my favorite color. I didn’t know eyes came in that color. And have you seen his arms? Those are good arms to have. And his jawline might as well have been chiseled out of marble, just… fucking perfect." She paused, chipping restlessly at her nail polish, leaving a neat pile of black lacquer on her napkin. "And I… feel safe with him. Like nothing bad could happen as long as he’s there. Obviously, that’s not true, if it was, Murphy wouldn’t have… but it still feels that way, you know?"

"It’s just--I’m--he’s--fuck!" She dropped her head onto the table with a dull thud, but only stayed there a second before sitting up again. "When he looks at me, it’s like the rest of the world just disappears. Like it’s just him and me. And sometimes it’s so intense I can barely breathe. Just from him looking at me! If he ever touched me--like, actually touched me, with intention, not just when he’s trying to protect me--I might literally combust." 

She closed her eyes and sighed. "I could live a thousand years and never feel as special as I do when Adam smiles at me." She covered her face again. "Oh god, that’s awful. If I start reciting poetry, hit me with something."

“Y' know I'm not gonna do that,” Abigail chuckled. She bit her lip in an attempt to hold back a smile. “It's not such a bad thing, havin' feelin's for someone. Y' might even like it if y' try.”

“It doesn’t bloody matter anyway, does it? He doesn’t want me. Or he doesn’t want to want me. There was a moment when I thought, maybe…” Kira’s light brown eyes were distant, full of something an awful lot like longing. Then she shook her head, and it was gone, “but nevermind. Whatever. I think he’d be happy if he never saw me again. If he didn’t have me around complicating things for him.”

AJ shook her head. “You don’ believe that, Kir,” she murmured gently.

“Maybe. I don’t know. It’s fine, I’ve accepted it.” Kira combed her fingers through her hair as she slouched down in her chair. “Can we go back to talking about you and Nate? Or, like, fucking absolutely anything else?”

“How ‘bout Felix an’ Mason?” AJ finally unleashed the smile she’d been holding back.

“Felix is great,” Kira said immediately, relieved in the change in subject. “He’s what you’d be if you woke up one day and stopped caring about what people think about you.”

“Funny.” Abigail arched an eyebrow playfully, her grin widening to match it. “I was gonna say the same about you an’ Mason. Y’ even dress alike.”

Kira smirked and rolled her eyes. “Oh, please, I’ve seen him wear at least one red shirt. That’s too much color for me.”

Abigail’s phone beeped and a second later Kira’s buzzed as well. They reached for them in sync. “That’ll be Tina, I s’ppose. Looks like breakfast is over.”

They quickly finished their coffee and tea and pastries. AJ took their empty mugs and plates up to the counter while Kira took their trash to the bin and then Kira held the door for them both as they waved goodbye to Haley and stepped out into the cool morning streets.

Abigail linked her arm into Kira’s as they fell into step together for the walk to the police station. “Thanks for listenin’, Kir.”

“Anytime. Really. You can talk to me about Nate anytime you want, as much as you want.” She squeezed her arm fondly. “I’ll bitch and moan about it, but I won’t mean it. I’m just jealous you won the emotional availability lottery when it comes to hot vampires.”

AJ lit up with a bright smile and an even brighter blush. “I did, didn’t I?” They walked the rest of the way to work in comfortable silence except for occasionally greeting people who said hello as they passed. Only when they arrived at the front door did she draw Kira to a stop, waiting until she met her eyes to gently say, “Y’ know you can talk t’ me about Adam anytime too, yeah?”

“I know.” Kira smiled warmly, then slipped her arm out of Abigail’s to wrest the door open. “But don’t get your hopes up, Red, I doubt there’ll be anything worth talking about.”

Abigail chuckled, her smile knowing as she followed Kira into the station. “We’ll see about that.”

[thorman-barnes]

Vampires 101

pairing: stucky x reader

requested: sorta on this post

prompt: none

summary: Bucky saves you and is going to help you in your new life as a vampire

warnings: curse words?

Masterlist

a/n: please let me know what you think or if i should even continue this?

Steve hovered over your lifeless body as Bucky walked back into the room with a rag, a bowl of water, and his old t-shirt he found in the back of his closet.

"And there was no where else you coul-"

"No," Bucky answered the unfinished question, "She just left her for dead, Steve."

Bucky pulled the shirt she had on over her head and began to dab the wet rag against her delicate skin that was slowly turning cold.

He was cleaning all the blood that had ran down her collarbone down to her stomach and the beginning of her jeans. Both him and Steve tried not focus on her bare chest as Bucky cleaned around the now closed but bruising wound.

Behind Steve on the coffee table was a gallon (that once held water) filled with a poor animals blood. When she wakes up, and it'd be soon, she's going to be hungry.

Bucky made Steve go hunting when he had burst into their place with her in his arms, blood soaking her clothes and the scent filling his nostrils.

"Shouldn't she be awake by now?" Steve asked and crossed his arms as he kneed her arm on the edge of the couch. When she didn't react, he looked over at Bucky.

"I'm not sure how long she's been out, should be any minute now," Bucky replied, not at all concerned by her lack of awareness. He threw the rag on the coffee table and as best as he could, he dressed her limp body in his old t-shirt. "What are we gonna do about her?"

"We already cleaned he-"

"I, not we," Bucky stated and sat on the edge of the coffee table, gently brushing her hair away from her face

"You cleaned her up already, she's gonna be hungry, we'll feed her, what else can we do? Let her handle her own shit," Steve shrugged and walked away to sit on the arm chair.

Bucky scoffed, "Not this her, the other her. Natasha. What are we gonna do about her?"

Steve groaned and ran a hand down his face, "She isn't our probl-"

"She is when she kills someone in the dead of night and leaves them there as evidence of our existence."

Steve looks elsewhere in the room. The last thing he wanted to do with Bucky is argue about Natasha. The two have never gotten along and Steve was caught in the middle of it and it has almost cost his friendship with her and sometimes his marriage.

"I don't understand why you dislike her so much," Steve mumbled under his breath and turned to face away from Bucky and stare at the fire burning away at the wood at the bottom of the chimeny.

Bucky heard him, of course he did, his hearing was very sharp but settled for sending a scowl toward Steve. He casually drummed his fingers on his thighs as he waited for her to be reborn.

"What do you think she's like?" Bucky asked as he picked at a loose string from long sleeve.

"Does it matter? She wasn't our problem," Steve replied and turned back to Bucky and the sleeping girl. Bucky was casually playing with a string from his sleeve as he waited for her to wake up. "But now she is."

"She could've died, Stevie," Bucky pressed and left his clothing alone as he focused his attention back on the person laying on the couch. He gently played with the strands of their hair that fell from the side of the couch and was long enough to reach the floor, "I wasn't going to let her die."

Steve rolled his eyes, "Only to spite, Natasha," he drummed his fingers against the arm rest of the chair, "You know she's not going to like that you revived her. . . dinner."

Bucky shook his head, "She was a human being, Steve, and Natasha turned her, she didn't kill her. She left her for dead. Or worse. . . You know what happens when you leave a newbie running around with no supe-"

"You're going to babysit her now?"

"Hey, now!" Bucky turned and glared at Steve as he stood up. He pointed an accusing finger at Steve while he only looked on the flames dancing before him and leaving shadows paint his featured, "I stood by you when you thought it was a good idea to feed off that Maximoff kid and when you felt horrible and revived him, I didn't say anythi-"

"That's because I did it," Steve responded calmly a complete contradiction to Bucky's growing anger.

He couldn't stand how he always defended the red head. She was always causing trouble and didn't trouble herself to clean her messes. Steve and Bucky were always to the rescue, just this time, Steve didn't see why they should bother helping the new little vampire when they'll probably starve themselves to death in a few days.

"Oh, right, sorry, next time, I'll let Natasha's little ones run wild and expose us all, is that what you want?" Bucky snapped and grew frustrated with Steve. In seconds, he felt two sharp stings on his lower lip and his vision become sharper than before.

No one could get a rise out of him like Steve can. He loved the man to death but he's going to be the end of him too.

"She could be one of those newbies that learn to survive on their own without someone teaching them," Bucky stated, " You know how bad that could be? They wouldn't know right from wro-"

"Killing is wrong regardless."

Bucky scoffed, "Well, you didn't mind defending Romanoff and leaving the poor girl for dead," he crossed his arms over his broad chest.

"Jesus," Steve huffed and ran a hand down his face, "What is it with you and this girl?"

"For starters, she isn't being an ass right now," Bucky started to name reasons why he preferred the girl over Steve right now, "Second. . . she's kind of pretty don't you think? And third, she's going to make Natasha's life a living hell."

Steve scoffed and turned the arm chair to look at Bucky, "What makes you think she's going to cast all hell down on Tasha?"

Bucky laughed to himself, "Because she's going to be pissed as hell when she finds out she's dead."

"Why do you think that?"

"Natasha only used her for a meal and left her for dead. Permanently. I'd be pretty pissed about that," Bucky shrugged.

Soft mumbling was heard just above the cackling of the fire. Bucky jumped up and his head shot down to the young girl waking from her slumber.

Bucky wasn't sure but she was mumbling something about school or work and for sure he heard the word coffee.

Steve stood up as well once he realized the girl was coming to her senses. She was rubbung her eyes as she struggled to sit up. her left hand grabbing the back of the couch and the other pushing her up.

She yawned once she sat up, her feet planted on the ground, her back against the soft cushion of the couc- a high pitch scream sounded through the room.

It was loud and sharp and it made Steve want to claw at his ears for it to stop. He wanted to rip them from his head to make it stop. He hated how sensitive his hearing is. If he wasn't what he is, he would've definitely gone deaf.

But when his eyes focused on the girl, she backed further into the couch, screaming as she looked at them both.

Her fangs were out and present, as most new vampires were. They were small but sharp, over time, they'd probably grow and get stronger the more she fed.

Bucky held his hands up, seeing as he was closest to her and had a greater chance of hurting her.

"Who the fuck are you?" She screeched, her voice hoarse, "What the fuck am I doing here?"

Steve turned to Bucky, waiting for him to deal with this. He brought this problem into their lives and he was going to fix this.

Tag List:

@iamalphanow @bucky-faarms @m-a-t-91 @hoewkeye @im-just-another-monster @scarsout @mcuwillbethedeathofme @wonderlandfandomkingdom @ssaaraw

Bucky Barnes Tag List:

@hour-to-hourglass

Stucky x Reader Tag List:

@ravennightingaleandavatempus @mydogisthebest @hellaqueerangelofthelord @hockeyshmockey @multireality @letterstomyself21 @themusicalweirdo @multifandomwriter121 @firstangeldragonranch  @aactuaaltraash

Series Tag List: (lmk if you do or do not want to be tagged || i tagged you bc of your interest in this post)

@chloerinebarnes @emilyroxy @gollyderek @itz-kira @ruckystarnes @authoressskr @slytherinyourrpants @powerful-vixen @marvelfansworld @1996-counting @lesbiiionest

[limitsbroke]

never-ending survey: Lancelaux

RULES: Repost, do not reblog. Tag 10 blogs!

tagged by: @violet-warder

tagging: @oyuudatass @aethernoise @ffxivfisticuffs @kyrie-silverwings @vysaldhe @fatewalker @under-the-blood-moonlight @elisiaheartnet @celesiel @neekaxiv @lareine-kira @herd-of-halla @ember-arrow @whitherwanderer @againstthewiind @dragon-sound @jancisstuff

BASICS.

FULL NAME: Lancelaux Fiermont

NICKNAME: The Shattered Spear

AGE:  38

BIRTHDAY:   7/8

ETHNIC GROUP: Elezen (Duskwight)

NATIONALITY: Ishgardian

LANGUAGE/S:Common, Hingan

SEXUAL ORIENTATION : Bisexual.

ROMANTIC ORIENTATION :Heteromantic.

RELATIONSHIP STATUS:  Single.

HOME TOWN / AREA:  Ishgard, Coerthas

CURRENT HOME:  A growing list of inns and dives.

PROFESSION: Dragoon (Ex, unaffiliated), Outlaw, Mercenary, Hero

PHYSICAL.

HAIR: Silver, short, and messily styled.

EYES: Icy blue, often unblinking.

FACE: Sharp, handsome features, worn with age, frown lines, and scars.

LIPS: Thin, and often pressed.

COMPLEXION: Pale

BLEMISHES: Dark circles under his eyes

SCARS: Many. Severe scar where his left eye used to be. A myriad collection of severe, large scars attained from dragons. Claw, fang, and burn scars across his entire body.

TATTOOS: A traditional duskwight tattoo beneath his right eye.

HEIGHT:  6′9″.

WEIGHT: Slightly heavier than average due to muscle mass.

BUILD: Toned and athletic.

FEATURES:  Incisors and canines a little sharper than they should be. Resting bitch face. Goatee and frequent stubble.

ALLERGIES:  None.

USUAL HAIR STYLE:  A unkempt, short undercut.

USUAL FACE LOOK :  A passive, analytical look, edging closer to a scowl than curiosity. Tired.

USUAL CLOTHING:  Dark clothes, with light armour beneath. Fingerless gloves, and a pair of heavy duty boots.

PSYCHOLOGY.

FEAR/S: Death, Failure, Being forgotten, Having no purpose

ASPIRATION/S:  To save the world, and make something good out of the poor choices he’s made, and the curse that has been dealt to him. To do better than the god who he once dedicated himself to.

POSITIVE TRAITS: Loyal, passionate, persistent, dedicated, altruistic

NEGATIVE TRAITS: Obsessive, reckless, addictive, wrathful

TEMPERAMENT:  Choleric

SOUL TYPE/S:  The King

ANIMALS:  Wolf.

VICE HABIT/S: Danger, smoking, drinking, dragons blood

FAITH: Not any more.

GHOSTS?: Yes.

AFTERLIFE?: Yes

REINCARNATION?:  Probably

POLITICAL ALIGNMENT: He doesn’t care for politics (Or more like, authority), and is only really concerned with the wellbeing of common people.

EDUCATION LEVEL:  Well educated, as a noble in Ishgard.

FAMILY.

FATHER : Deceased (?)

MOTHERS :  Deceased.

SIBLINGS : Deceased.

EXTENDED FAMILY: None to speak of.

NAME MEANING/S: It was just a Lancelot joke

HISTORICAL CONNECTION?: No.

FAVORITES.

BOOK:  History

DEITY: Kill your gods

HOLIDAY:  None

MONTH: December

SEASON:  Winter

PLACE: A quiet office.

WEATHER: Light snow

SOUND / S: Silence

SCENT / S:  Whiskey and cigarette smoke.

TASTE / S:  Whiskey, blood on his tongue.

FEEL / S:  Soft skin, the weight of a weapon

ANIMAL / S:  Crows, Hounds

NUMBER: 7

COLORS: Black. Red. White.

EXTRA.

TALENTS: Well spoken, tactical, years of martial prowess, tracking, hunting. Charm?

BAD AT: Understanding magic, keeping his temper under control, taking orders, letting things go.

TURN ONS: Rivalry. Tension. Battle-highs. Skill and physique. Rough hands on soft skin. Height Difference. Soft features. Confidence. Struggles for dominance. Intense gazes. Intensity. Scars.

TURN OFFS: Lack of intelligence. Religion. Indolence.

HOBBIES: Writing in his journal. Chainsmoking 30 a day. Drinking his sorrows away.

TROPES: So many. Anti-hero probably the most encompassing.

QUOTES : “We, were betrayed.”

MUN QUESTIONS.

Q1 :  If you could write your character your way in their own movie,  what would it be called,  what style would it be filmed in, and what would it be about?          

A1 :  It’d be a short film just called “Blood” and be a black and white (and red) introspective of Lance dying as he walks across a ruined battlefield.

Q2 :  What would their soundtrack/score sound like?          

A2 :  Equal parts dark orchestral sounds and any heavy/industrial sounds with lyrics evoking rebellion and disestablishment.

Q3 :  Why did you start writing this character?          

A3 : I got to Coerthas. I thought dragoons were cool. I wanted to do a ‘fallen’ take on a knight character.

Q4 :   What first attracted you to this character?          

A4 : The aesthetic. I like knights. I like religious themes. I like the theme of a people who have been fighting for so long that it’s so intrinsically part of them now.

Q5 :  Describe the biggest thing you dislike about your muse.

A5 : He’s kinda hard to slide into rp with people some times. He has odd, kind of esoteric goals. He’s not exactly anti-social, but he doesn’t always mesh with other peoples characters well.

Q6 :  What do you have in common with your muse?          

A6 :   Bitter as fuckkkk.

Q7 :   How does  your muse feel about  you?          

A7 :   Smoke...more???

Q8 :  What characters does your muse have interesting interactions with ?        

A8 :   Other Ishgardians. Whether their views conflict or not, it’s usually interesting. Other soldiers, people he can relate to. And, people completely outside of his spectrum of expertise. Soft, gentle people who either temper his own personality, or have theirs cracked by his presence.

Q9 :  What gives you inspiration to write your muse ?        

A9 : Music, fictional characters and interesting aesthetics. THE PROTOMEN

Q10 : How long did this take you to complete ?          

A10 : About an hour

[peace-love-piper]

Before the Mugwumps Concert

Where: Borgin & Burke’s, Knockturn Alley

Who: Piper, Cass, Maeko, Oz

When: 29 December 2015

Summary: Before going to a concert (tickets provided by Flitterby Radio Station), two unusual new acquaintances learn some important information about each other.

[NOTE: This drabble is a collab with Kira - I will edit this if we decide to eventually add more to it!]

Cass couldn’t really believe that Piper lived in Knockturn Alley. He kept his head down, trying to avoid being seen- or rather, trying to avoid seeing the people he knew. A lot of donor addicts and shady, predatory vampires hung around there, their feeding habits were too destructive to go somewhere like Caro. Cass didn’t want to consider himself among them, so when he found Piper’s address he knocked on the door rather hastily, and didn’t really think about who had let him in until he was in the store.

“Well hello, scrumptious.” Cass frowned at the decidedly not-Piper’s voice, whirling around to find a dishevelled looking, half-naked wizard standing there, chin resting in his hand as he swept a gaze over Cass. Cass felt self-conscious being looked at. He dressed differently for gigs, all leather jackets, tight trousers and a pink button-up shirt that had a few too many buttons open. Cass even wore a large, ornate silver cross with some other chains. For cheek. 

“Erm, I think I’m in the wrong place… I’m here to see Piper.” Cass said awkwardly, stepping back to leave when he bumped into something, which immediately elicited a high pitched screaming sound. Cass squeaked, clamping his hands over his ears. “I’m sorry!”

It was truly mind-boggling, thought Oz, where Piper Oliver managed to find all the most delectably nervous little nerd boys. As if they flocked to her like bees in a fuckin hive. And maybe they did—Oz still didn’t really understand her whole Veela-thing. 

Not like he was complaining, though. The opposite; a stroke of brilliant luck him and Maeko had stumbled unknowingly into when Piper Oliver had waltzed through their front door, bringing not just her sunshiney good cheer (which was in dire need around these gloomy nooks of town) but also Loxley with his stupid-cute puppy and his floppy hair and his uncanny penchant for growing weed.

And this pale leather-clad gawky little snack. 

“Hmm, Piper…not ringin any bells m’afraid…” Oz drawled exaggeratedly, drumming his fingers on his facial hair facetiously, “…Mae, d’you know a ‘Piper?’” 

Maeko, who was sitting on the stairs and licking closed an absolutely impeccable spliff, shrugged her shoulders, playing along. Her bright blue eyes glinted wickedly as she said, “Pipe? I’m more of a papers-girl, myself…” before she stuck the spliff in her mouth indicatively and sparked the end of it with a snap of her fingers, blowing thick smoke rings toward their skittish visitor. Oz snickered loudly at the joke; he did love his half-sister’s wit. 

He moved closer to the boy, causing the other to knock into a hideous and honestly just a bit phallic oxblood-red statue that was standing up near the door, which promptly began to shriek and wail quite wretchedly. Oz exchanged a look with Maeko, dropping their Torment-the-Cute-Boy Act, and she stood up, her brows furrowed in confusion and curiosity.

Just then Piper appeared at the top of the stairs, a vision in distressed acid-washed bell-bottoms and an embroidered halter crop top, her hair feathered out gold like a disco goddess—actual gold, metallic that caught the light. Honestly if Oz were to ever entertain the notion of being with a woman, it would be Piper Oliver. She skipped down the stairs, frowning prettily and said, raising her voice to be heard over the mewling echoing sound, “What is—oh, hello Cass! What is that? Some sort of alarm?”

“Yeah…” Maeko said, handing Piper the lit spliff before walking closer to the statue to examine it. “…but it must be broken. Supposed to detect vampires.”

Maeko set the statue back right-side and it suddenly stopped wailing. And then all three of them—Piper, Maeko, and Oz—looked at Cass expectantly.

Cass looked down at the piece of parchment Piper had scribbled her address on and frowned, then looked up and between the two strange wix in the shady store. No way would someone as cool-looking as Piper live in a dump like this, anyway. “I-uh, I c-could’ve just got the wrong address. N-No worries.” He said hastily, shifting uncomfortably at the way Oz was looking at him. It reminded him rather oddly of the way vampires looked at some prey.

He was coughing from the sudden intrusion of smoke blown in his direction, waving his hand in front of his face, and trying to back away from the wizard when he bumped into it, and Cass was immediately overhwelmed, mostly by the screeching sound- which felt like it was aching right into his fucking core, a nail being pressed into his skull. Cass squeezed his eyes shut, clamping his hands down a little harder- he didn’t see or hear Piper’s arrival. HIs Dad had warned him about stuff like this. Vampire detection alarms, they kept people like him practically immobilised while hunters could go and grab their stakes… Panic seized Cass and he tried to turn, tried to run, but his head hurt so fucking much that even thinking about leaving hurt just a little more.

Suddenly, the sound was gone and Cass’ shoulders sagged with relief. He looked between the two wix with wide, nervous eyes, about to step back again to scramble away when he saw Piper standing there, staring at him. All three of them were staring at him, actually. Cass just stood there, folding his arms to squeeze his shoulders up. “Uh- um- it’s not… S’not broken. I can… I- I can go. Sorry.” 

He didn’t blame her for having one of them, really. People didn’t know what they didn’t know. Cass turned to leave, being very, very careful of the statue by the door, eyeing it carefully as he edged past it and towards the entry again.

Piper drew in an inaudible little gasp and the muscles in her body stiffened instinctually from where she was stood on the bottom step of the staircase. “Vampires?” she said in a small voice, her eyes wide, the smoke from the forgotten spliff in her hand twisting and writhing up toward the high ceilings. It was a silly reaction, Piper knew it was; she was an open-minded and loving person, who tried her very best to be accepting of all living things on earth—but that seed of mistrust had been planted in Piper’s brain so, so long ago, nurtured into persistent fear and wariness by her mother and her cousin and the tragedies that had befallen her kind at the hand of vampires and magical society in recent years, that the uneasiness came before Piper could stop it. 

Piper watched Cass stumble through some words and make to retreat from the house, her forehead dimpling in confusion; everything had happened fast and Piper was slow on the uptake, not immediately putting the pieces together. Maeko did, though, and a steely protective expression settled over her already harsh features. Being closest to the door, Maeko stepped in front of it, blocking Cass’ exit point, and she folded her arms in front of her chest; she was a wiry sort of thing, but something about her general presence exuded a formidable sense of power. Only a truly foolhardy idiot would try to cross Maeko Burke. 

Oz, unabashedly tactless as ever and with a near-compulsion to cut through obviously tense situations, looked at Cass and then at Piper and said with a grin, “Well twist my Irish nipples, Sugarplum—ya didn’t tell me your newest flavor was a vampire. The terms of your lease absolutely require that ya fuckin disclose any and all gorgeous vampy houseguests.” 

“I—I didn’t…” Piper stammered stupidly, looking between Oz and Maeko and then at Cass with an expression that was both apologetic and misunderstanding. Then, finally, she remembered. 

Cass wasn’t just Cass—he was Cassius Halestorm, well-known half-vampire, and Piper Oliver was the world’s most forgetful moron. She hadn’t avoided him when they were at Hogwarts, not intentionally—but Cass had always kept inside while restless energetic Piper explored every inch of the grounds. And even though he didn’t seem like a hugely loud or riotous person, Cass had been by association part of Tami’s out-and-proud social justice crowd, which Piper had purposefully avoided to protect her own secret. 

Everyone was looking at her very expectantly, and Piper turned several shades of dark distressed pink. She needed to say something, she was being extremely rude and looked very stupid and she knew that, it’s just that she’d been so caught off guard. And even though she didn’t want to think about it, the memories of that dark room in the Bureau of Secrets at the French Ministry flooded into her consciousness invasively, the predatory way that vampire had looked at her, turning Piper’s stomach with shame and terror and an uncomfortable, foreign sort of desire that she hadn’t been able to fight, cold and magnetic and unnatural…

“Piper?” Maeko said with sharp concern, and Piper snapped out of it. She shook her head forcefully; Cass was not the same vampire that Piper had met and she couldn’t carry on being paralyzed by her own fear and ingrained prejudice. So instead Piper focused on what she could control—the things she could know for certain, without any doubt. She concentrated on picking up the various energies that drifted through the room, discerning the familiar qualities of Oz’s and Maeko’s and then tuning those out to zero in on the one she didn’t know as well—Cass. Except for the smallest of irregularities that made it feel just a hint sharper when Piper took it in, it felt—normal, really. He was scared, too, and ashamed. Deep shame and disappointment and regret. 

Piper felt immediately awful and deeply embarrassed of herself. “Cass—wait! Don’t go…” she said hurriedly, rushing toward him and handing off the spliff to Oz as she passed him. “Please, we—we’re not like that, okay? You’re safe here and we…I don’t want you to go. Please?” She gave Cass an earnest, pleading look before looking past him to shoot a pointed glare at Maeko. Maeko held Piper’s look for a moment before rolling her eyes upwards, as if to say, Whatever, it’s your funeral, and then released the majority of her offensive stance and demeanor, while Oz muttered jokingly, “Fine by me if ya wanna stay forever....”

[a-stitch-in-time-and-space]

DS9 Questions

(asked myself these questions because I like looking at things I love in different ways)

Favourite character/s: Julian Bashir, Kira Nerys, Elim Garak.

Favourite outfit/s: Season 1 Kira's whole look wins hands-down. Second place is Quark's fancy jackets. Third place is whenever Bashir shows a bit of collarbone. Queer icon outfits only.

Favourite relationship (of any kind): We are Garashir shippers first and foremost^^ but Nog and Jake, Jake and Benjamin, Julian and Miles, Julian and Jadzia (mid-seasons), Miles/Keiko/Kira, Benjamin/Kasidy, Odo/Quark, Ezri/Leeta, Rom/Marxism, Garak and Kira (last season), everyone/therapy-with-Vic, The DS9 Polycule ... probably forgot something there...

Favourite episode/s: This is going to be answered by such obvious episodes. I felt like I wrote down a loooot so I cut them to 1 per season (cos I love death): Duet. The Wire. The Die Is Cast. Hippocratic Oath.  In The Cards. Far Beyond the Stars. Take Me Out To The Holosuite.

Character/s you liked more by the end: Miles. I cried when he was packing up to leave ds9 and picked up the little figure he thought Julian had lost.

Character/s you liked less by the end: Gul Dukat. I've written a bit about this, but I feel like he was overused.

Character/s who deserved better: uh. The women? There was a bit of “killing-women-for-male-arcs” goin on – Jennifer, Ziyal, Jadzia... also the whole thing with Kira's mum was no.

Character/s  whose development surprised you: Several! Often in the little ways I suddenly noticed how much they'd grown. Benjamin falling in love with the station and Bajor. Miles becoming softer with himself and others. Kira working through her PTSD and becoming a leader. Garak opening up. On the opposite end: Julian becoming sharper, sadder, more closed off.

Something you think would've been cool to see: Considering that Sisko's arc started with the Borg, I kinda would've loved to have had a hypothetical season 8 where in some way they're threaded in. So the season would rein it in from the big Dominion war storylines and look at very intimate stories of recovery trauma and for Sisko that would include the Borg in some way. (For Garak rebuilding Cardassia. For Kira moving on from Odo and running the station. For Julian trying to hunt down Section 31. For Ezri I'd love something with her family and also something with Jadzia/her past lives and something with being gay and owning that for herself... I mean, they're all gay lbr. For Miles living an ordinary life for the first time and how he deals with that, etc).

Something you wish had been developed further: Julian! Trying! To! Cure! The! Jem'Hadar!!!!! Seriously they give us a couple of episodes that added this tragic depth and then by the end they were mainly a silent, replaceable army after all? Don't buy it. Similarly the one episode in which a Weyoun breaks from the Dominion. And we never see that again!!! Also obviously the lost potential of exploring queer identities on the show after hints and teases for several characters.

Something that made you smile: Take me out to the holosuite all the way throug!

Something that made you cry: Finishing the show. I had things I didn't agree with and things I wanted to see, but in the end it was just the realisation that I would really miss seeing these characters and stories.

A headcanon for something that happens post-show: Ha, I'm writing a dozen fanfics about things I headcanon for post-show. One I'm currently finishing up deals with Cardassian/Bajoran relations, Garak and Kira being post-revolution friends, and Kira getting a potential girlfriend at last!