#i thought about adding a ribcage around this one to make it clearer what it is

[ganondoodle]

core 3

[limerental]

Here we go, my first @witcher-rarepair-summer-bingo fill, for the prompt, Romeo and Juliet

Relationships: Ciri/Dara

Rating: T

Content Warnings: referenced genocide, briefly assumed threat of sexual assault, minor head injury, canon typical fantasy racism & misogyny

Summary: Canon Divergent. Ordinary princess Ciri (no elder blood, no child surprise) is dreading her upcoming political marriage when she meets Scoia'tael Dara in the woods outside of Cintra.

Ciri urged her mount on through the tangles of the undergrowth, leaning to cling to the mare’s neck as she surged up inclines that scattered loose soil underfoot, leaning back again as they dropped into vine-choked valleys. 

The horse was sure-footed and hot and could sense Ciri’s rush of adrenaline and frustration, the overwhelming need to flee and flee fast. Whoever dared to chase her would not keep up, not with the reckless route that she took through the landscape. 

But no one was chasing her. Not yet, at least.

“Go take that new mare out,” her grandmother had said after Ciri’s frustration bubbled over into snide words unbefitting of a princess. Her lips had pursed with pale tightness, but the softness of her eyes said that she understood some of what Ciri was feeling. She and Queen Calanthe only fought so fiercely and so often because of how similarly stubborn and rebellious and bold the both of them were. “I trust that you’ll come back with a clearer head.”

She could pretend for a moment while hugging the mare’s muscled neck, that this headlong race was part of a much grander, more exciting adventure. That her life was not spiralling utterly out of her own control in ways that were so mundane.

Princess Cirilla of Cintra, having been of age for nearly a year now, was to be married off before midsummer. 

“We have delayed long enough,” said her grandmother. “If it were wholly up to me, I would not have you marry at all except for love. But the threat from the Scoia’tael increases by the day, and a marriage will strengthen the coalition of our allies. You have known your whole life this day would come.”

Ciri’s whole life made for a dreadfully boring story. Nothing exciting or interesting had happened to her even once or ever would.

Even a harrowing flight through the forest in defiance of her Destiny was nothing more than a cliche. The newest feminist literature told similar tales over and over. Stories of bold maidens who spat and brandished swords and cut their hair short and fled from the marriage bed were all the rage in the more forward-looking areas of the Continent.

But this was Cintra, and Ciri was not a girl but a Princess. No one would ever write a story about her except as a footnote to some arrogant prince, further noted in the lineage of her sons and grandsons. 

Probably her name would be misspelled. <i>Princess Serilla of Cintra</i>, it would say. <i>Producer of prodigious heirs and otherwise simply not of note even a little bit.</i> 

The rugged landscape suddenly opened up as the mare charged ahead, and Ciri found herself on a beaten track, cutting off a rider on a grey stallion who scrambled desperately to avoid a collision. 

Her mare skidded in a great cloud of dust and veered one way while Ciri veered the other. She soon found herself sprawled on the path observing just how much faster her mount could run without a rider as the horse disappeared around a curve in the path, her hoofbeats fading.

Something nudged Ciri in the stomach.

“Ow,” she said, touching the velvety nose of the grey stallion who snuffled at her abdomen. The horse’s face was fine-boned and dished along the curve of its profile, and it wore a bridle embroidered with intricate stitching and hung with tassels. The reins jingled with miniature bells. The horse’s ears were pierced with golden barbells. 

This was no Cintran horse and certainly no Cintran rider.

Mustering all her courage, she forced herself to squint up at the towering rider, the dappled sunlight through the trees casting a mottled glow on his figure. A young man dressed in earth tones, his skin dark and jawline bare of facial hair. He looked down at her with brow furrowed, as though confused by the series of events that had led to a girl lying flat on her back on the path before him, dazedly stroking his horse’s muzzle.

Most distressingly, he wore a cap sitting askance on his head, a squirrel’s tail slung across his right shoulder.

“You’re a--” Ciri wheezed to clear the dust from her lungs and sat up on her elbows. “You’re an elf.”

“I’d say so, yes,” said the young man. "Have been since I was born.”

“I’m fine. Thank you for asking.” Ciri shoved herself up to stand and found herself much less fine than expected. The world spun.

“You alright?” asked the young man.

“No, of course not,” said Ciri. “What a stupid thing to ask.”

Her brain a bit addled by the fall, Ciri was not sure whether she should be more fearful that the elf would leave her alone in the forest or that he would take her with him. There were said to be Scoia'tael encampments scattered throughout the countryside, but she had not expected any so close to the outer wall. 

She didn’t notice the rider dismount until he was standing beside her at the stallion’s head.

“His name is Wyn,” said the elf, lying a gloved hand on the horse’s face, “and I’m Dara. How about you?”

“I’m--” She stopped herself. “I’m no one. I’m an orphan. A brigand. Nobody.”

“A brigand? Did you plan to rob me? By flinging yourself from your horse?”

“Well,” said Ciri, “I’m not a very good brigand.”

“That was a well-bred horse for an orphaned nobody,” said Dara. He was smiling, the slow sort of smile that touched his dark eyes first, though she didn’t know what exactly about this situation was anything close to amusing.

“I stole it.”

“I thought you weren’t a good brigand?”

“Suppose I just go lucky,” said Ciri. She drew a deep breath and felt a twinge in her ribcage. Ignoring it, she squared her shoulders and faced Dara with all the bold nobility she could muster. “Or not. I know all about that cap you wear. I know who you are. I know you hate my kind and want me dead. So go on, get on with it. Try to strike me down. I'll defend myself."

“Your kind?”

“Humans,” said Ciri simply. “You wish to wipe us out and claim our castles for your own and muddy our bloodlines.”

Dara bent over his knees to laugh, a startlingly loud noise in the quiet forest.

“I think you may have some things a little backwards," he laughed. “Is that really what’s being said about us these days?”

“Yes. In all the… brigand camps.”

“I didn’t know brigands cared about castles and bloodlines.”

“No but--” Ciri felt her cheeks turn pink. 

“You’re Princess Cirilla of Cintra,” said Dara, and Ciri’s heartbeat leapt in her throat.

“How did you--”

“You’re wearing the seal of Cintra at the clasp of your cloak. Your hair is as pale as they say. And you speak like a princess.”

“I damn well do not,” said Ciri. “Fuck you,” she added for good measure.

Dara laughed again, a sound both light and musical, a warming sort of laugh.

“Princess Cirilla,” he said, stepping closer to her. The horse between them seemed bored of the affair of standing in the middle of the road, his eyelids fluttering closed. Her head felt too muddy to know what she was meant to do in this situation. She expected that she should flee. Call for help. At any moment, a gang of Scoia'tael could burst from the trees and claim her for ransom.

“Ciri,” she corrected. 

“Ciri,” said Dara, smiling. “I’m not going to leave you alone in the woods.”

“Right,” said Ciri, suddenly dizzy. She found that it was not as gratifying as she thought it would be to be a part of a more exciting narrative. “You’re going to kidnap me and take me back to your camp and make my grandmother give in to all your sick and twisted demands for my safe return. Or worse, you aim to defile me and force me to bear your children which will ascend to the throne. Or you--”

Her dizziness overwhelmed her.

The forest pitched to and fro, and when she became aware of her surroundings again, she rode on horseback with someone’s arms clenched around her, the undergrowth a green blur and the horse’s pace swift and sure. 

Cold fear gripped her until she saw a familiar outer wall rise up from the forest. She knew if she craned her neck, she would see the glittering spires of Cintra’s main keep far away on the hill.

“You took me back,” said Ciri, her voice scratchier than expected. Dara’s grip tightened as she shifted to look round at him, and he reined the stallion to a halt. He had removed his cap, and she was struck by the strange urge to touch the line of his pointed ear. She realized a second too late that she had given to the urge and snatched her hand back, face burning. 

“I took you back,” said Dara. “I’m not an animal or a monster. I don’t kidnap or defile distressed maidens. None of my kind do. We want reparations, not slaughter. We want our relics returned to us and our history respected.”

“How boring,” Ciri mumbled. “The other story’s much more exciting.”

Dara dismounted and shifted to help her do so as well. Ciri swayed on her feet but managed to stay upright, distracted by the warmth of Dara’s hands on her arms.

“I’m sure you know there’s a gate not far from here. Follow the wall. I can’t go farther than this.”

He gathered up Wyn’s reins and turned to lead him back into the forest, and Ciri felt her heart clench strangely.

“Wait,” she called. “You saved me. You’ll be rewarded.”

“I don’t think that’s how this works, Princess,” said Dara and smiled his soft smile.

Ciri breathed deep, holding herself upright and summoning all her bravery, and strode with only some unsteadiness to stand before him. 

“Thank you, Dara of… the woods. For your service and protection.” 

“Very formal for a brigand.”

“Yes, as is taught at brigand school.”

Being almost of a height, Ciri needed only to rise slightly onto her tiptoes to brush her lips against the line of Dara’s brow. His fingertips touched the curve of her elbow, and she rested a palm on his chest. Small and lingering touches that she would remember with perfect clarity long after.

“Have you read any of the latest stories? With defiant maidens who flee from the marriage bed and learn to fight with swords and ride swift horses and cut off all their hair?”

“I can’t read,” said Dara simply, “but they sound like good stories.”

“Yes,” said Ciri, and with all the stubborn rebellion that was her birthright, she ducked forward to kiss him on the bow of his lips. 

[jonathananubian]

Aliit Ori'shya eyn Eyayah be Ruyot [Star Wars/Mandalorian Fanfic]

Aliit Ori'shya eyn Eyayah be Ruyot:  Family is more than an echo of the past.

Summary: When a Jedi artifact sends Din somewhere else the poor man is disoriented and confused. He has no idea what’s going on or why the lights were suddenly so bright. He plans on keeping a low profile and scouting out this new place until he hears the sound of a young voice crying out in pain. Harsh words that should never be spoken to a child follow the sound of another blow and Din can’t help but to intervene.

Characters: Din Djarin, CC-2224 | Cody, CT-7567, Dred Priest, Jango Fett, Mij Gilamar, Kal Skirata.

Tags: Force Shenanigans, Protective Din, BAMF Din, Clone Cadets, Cuy’val Dar Dred Priest, Time travel, Not beta-read. (Now a chapter fic.)

Warnings: Child abuse, violence, cursing.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32481793

Spots danced across his vision as Din let out a low groan. His entire body felt as if it had fallen asleep, the pins and needles making him twitch and wince behind his helmet. Lifting his head he quickly glanced around for any signs of life before letting out a relieved sigh too low for the helmet speaker to pick up. Slowly sitting up he stared at the unfamiliar white walls around him and frowned in confusion.

This was not the damp old cave he’d found himself in earlier that cycle.

The last thing he remembered was stumbling and falling through a wall that should have been solid, but wasn’t. The walls changed from a damp old cave tunnel to a stagnant aired cavern with carved pillars. It looked exactly like the kind of thing Luke had asked him to look out for on his jobs so he’d cautiously made his way up the steps to the small altar at the top.

As he strode forward lights burst into life around him, startling him into reaching for his weapons. When nothing happened he relaxed his death grip on his spear and let out a small sigh of relief.

Resting in an indent in the elaborately carved stone was an orb that was smaller than his palm. It seemed opaque at first but the longer he stared at it, wondering if he should touch it or not, the clearer it became. Inside were dancing flecks of color that swirled together like an infinitesimal galaxy, almost hypnotic in the way they reflected the light.

Warily he reached for the orb, knowing that there was an inherent danger in anything touched or made by Jedi magic. Picking it up he tensed for something strange to happen, though Luke had told him most artifacts didn’t react to someone who was both force null and encased in beskar. When nothing happened he gripped the orb more firmly and carefully made his way back the way he’d come.

Of course it was just his luck that nothing ever went quite the way he expected.

There was a loud rumble as everything began to shake around him. He could hear the cracking of stone and looked up as sharp stalactites fell from the ceiling toward him. Diving out of the way he hissed in alarm as his grip on the orb proved weak.

The orb clattered to the ground and he sucked in a sharp breath as it rolled a few feet away from his outstretched hand. Scrambling to his feet he darted forward to grab it- but was too late.

Another chunk of rock detached from the ceiling and he watched it fall as if in slow motion.

The sound of the orb shattering was loud in the sudden silence that followed.

Then Din saw white.

Now here he was, stalking the white halls of the strange facility as he tried to figure out what in the Ka’ra had happened. Oh, he knew it was force osik. Din just didn’t know what kind of force osik. Luke had never been the best at explaining it in terms he understood and after the many long lectures he’d kind of started to tune it all out.

Checking around another bland corner into another junction that looked exactly like every other one he’d passed Din was about to dash across the open space when a sound was picked up by his helmet.

It froze him in his tracks, entire body stiff and ears straining just in case he’d misheard.

“Pathetic! Absolutely useless! Quit that bitching or I will twist off your head and shit down your neck!” The voice was rough, masculine, and yelling at a volume that was near impossible to miss.

But that wasn’t what Din was focused on.

The sound of a child trying and failing to muffle their cries of pain made his heart race in his chest and his blood boil in his veins.

Without a single thought to the consequences he pushed himself away from the wall and stalked down the hall the noise had come from, hands clenched at his sides.

“Did I say you could step out of line CC-2224? Get back in line before I put my boot so far up your ass you can spit shine it!” The more Din heard the faster he walked until he was practically belting down the long hallway.

“And you! You have the coordination of a one winged mynock tripping on spice! A defect like you wouldn’t know how to-" Slamming his hand down on the pad the door slid open to a large training room.

Din’s chest heaved as he took in the small forms standing around a circle in matching uniforms, not one of them taller than his waist. Near the center of the group was an armored man with one large hand around the neck of a blonde child, pinning them against the mats as they scrabbled to escape. There were recent bruises on the child’s face and blood running from their nose.

Din saw red.

“Demagolka!” He snarled, spear already in his hands as he stalked forward like the deadly hunter he was.

“Who the fu-” The man never got a chance to finish his sentence before Din was on him.

The guy put up a fight, Din would give him that, but he clearly hadn’t kept up with whatever training he’d been raised with.

Din on the other hand? He’d been training since his buir saved him during the Clone Wars. Had fought on the front lines during the Purge, and killed a Greater Krayt Dragon.

In the end the demagolka was dead with Din’s spear shoved up into his ribcage through a gap in his armor.

The children stared at him, looking too scared to move, as Din stood over their former tormentor. Pulling his spear out of the quickly cooling corpse he set it onto the ground and turned to regard the small blonde child.

Some time during the fight one of the older children had rushed forward and pulled the injured child away, cradling the blonde to their chest. As Din came closer the two of them flinched, holding fast to one another and trying desperately not to cry. Din stopped a few feet away and crouched so he wasn’t towering over them.

“Hey there. I’m not here to hurt you, I swear.” The children stiffened, their faces scrunching up slightly in confusion.

Din looked between them and frowned. The ade were very similar in appearance and he was fairly certain they were brothers. Not twins, one of them was at least a year or two younger, but definitely related.

But where had he seen a face like that before…

Din pushed the thought away. It was irrelevant to the situation at hand. Reaching into the pouches on his belt he slowly pulled out a small medical pack and showed it to the children. “It’s just some alcohol wipes and bacta spray. I want to make sure they’re okay. Will you let me?” He motioned toward the blonde who in turn looked up at their potentially elder sibling.

The child watched him for a moment, amber eyes intelligent and sharp, before they flicked over to the body of the fake Mandalorian. After a moment or two of silence the child turned back to him and nodded curtly.

Din’s shoulders relaxed and he smiled. “Thank you.” Getting closer he knelt in front of the children and opened the package in front of them. Taking out the alcohol wipe he gently ran it over the boy’s face, making a low noise of reassurance when the child flinched and let out a hiss of pain. “Hey, you’re doing good kid.” He soothed quietly as he checked the rest of their bruises. He had to hold back another flash of anger at the sight of a handprint that almost completely encircled the slender neck.

He should have inflicted a lot more pain on the demagolka.

“There you go, kid, feeling a bit better?” The child blinked dark brown eyes up at him and hesitantly nodded. Din reached over and ruffled their short cropped hair. “Mandokarla.” He said warmly.

The child let out a surprised squeak and ducked further into the arms of their ori’vod, who frowned up at him in confusion. Din got to his feet and looked around at the other children, looking for any further injuries, and paused as the strangeness of their appearance finally registered.

Every single one of them shared the same features.

It wasn’t exact, he was observant enough to notice small differences, but they were all so similar it was unsettling.

Then it clicked.

Clones.

Just like Boba.

The very thought made Din’s mind race. Had the last remnants of the Empire somehow gotten hold of Boba’s dna and re-started their clone army? Din thought they’d moved on to the damned droid troopers and attempting to use Grogu’s blood to give them access to Jedi magic. Did they bring back the clones because Moff Gideon had failed?

As the children continued to watch him warily one of them finally stepped forward. “Sir?” They said, voice shaking slightly.

Din snapped out of his thoughts and turned toward the child. “Yes?” He said softly. Clones or not they were just children. Injured, scared, children.

“What are your Orders, Sir? A-are you our new Sergeant now?” The child stood stiffly, arms at his sides even as his bottom lip trembled with nerves.

Din melted at the sight.

“No orders.” He said quietly, still worried he might spook the lot of them. “And I’m no one’s sergeant. I’m a Beroya.” He wasn’t sure if the kids knew what that was but he didn’t feel like explaining further. “But I don’t think we should stay here.” He glanced back at the corpse and swallowed the curses that tried to force themselves out of his mouth. “If they have friends then they’ll probably realize they’re dead soon.”

The kids stared up at him in confusion, looking so lost it hurt his soul. “Hey, I’m not going to let someone like that hurt you again. Okay?” He could feel their eyes on him and straightened further. “I swear. I will protect each and every one of you with my last breath.”

“Why?” The child holding onto the blonde asked, tone heated. “We’re just clones.”

Din thought carefully about what to say for a moment before he decided it was best to just tell the truth. “One of my ori’vode, my… elder brothers, is a clone. He’s known as one of the best bounty hunters in the galaxy.” Din stared right at the child as he spoke. “He is a person, just like you, and all of you have worth.”

There was a sense of something holding its breath, of tense anticipation, before the child’s eyes began to shine and he gave Din a watery smile. He opened his mouth to speak when the sound of a door opening behind them alerted Din to uninvited guests.

“What the fuck is going on in here!” An enraged voice that sounded oddly familiar barked behind him.

In an instant Din turned, dove for his spear, and sprang to his feet; placing his body between the unknown voice and the children.

“Stay behind me!” He ordered the children calmly through the speaker of his helmet.

Standing just inside the doorway were three sentients dressed in beskar’gam. Din growled, watching their every move.

Wearing beskar’gam used to mean that someone was an ally. But with all he’d seen in the last few months there was no guarantee that these three were not also demagolkase.

“Who the hell are you? What are you- is that fucking Priest?” The one in the sandy-yellow of vengeance asked in Mando’a, sounding shocked and incredulous.

“Cadets, get away from them! They’re an intruder!” The second one in gold beskar’gam barked at the children, although his voice was filled more with concern than anything else.

Behind him the children shifted anxiously on their feet but didn’t move.

“Leave the ade alone. Your quarrel is with me.” Din growled, gripping the spear tighter.

“Why are you protecting them?” The one in blue and unpainted beskar asked.

“Children are the future.” He stated firmly. “This is the Way.”

There was a long moment of silence before the one in silver and blue reached up to take off his helmet. “Then we are not your enemy.” Without the interference of the speaker Din stiffened as he finally placed the voice. “My name is Jango Fett, House Mereel.”

Dank ferrik, was that Boba’s buir? What the kark kind of Jedi magic was this?

"I think we need to sit down and have a little talk." Boba's buir said, intelligent eyes straying to the nearby corpse of the demagolka. "At the very least I have to thank you for taking out that trash."

Oh. Well... there really wasn't much else he could do, was there?

"Fine." He said lowering his spear. "But I want a medic to check on the ade. Some of them are injured."

Jango Fett's face split into a grin that set off all of Din's danger senses.

"That can be arranged."

[keelywolfe]

FIC: Keep Breathing (standalone)

Summary:  Edge can handle this. He can. All he has to do is keep breathing.

Notes:    I forget where I saw it, on twitter or discord, about Edge being unable to understand what he felt when he saw Stretch. This is what sort of evolved from it.

Tags: Spicyhoney, Papcest, Angst, Feels, LV Trauma, Hurt/Comfort, Pre-Relationship, Canon-Typical Violence

~~~~

Read it on AO3

or

Read it here!

~~*~~

Breathing, that was what was important. In, out, deep, slow breaths. It took a few before the icy Snowdin air seemed to help smother the fire currently burning in his chest. Edge kept it up, slow breaths, in and out, and he didn’t have lungs, but he still needed air, his magic greedily incorporating the oxygen as the sense of smothering he’d felt in the Swap brothers’ house faded.

His bones felt hot and achy, the snow beneath him melting and soaking into his trousers as he sat curled up on the ground behind the house, out of view of any passersby on the streets. Not far away he could hear the crunch of footsteps and words blurred by distance, pedestrians heading to the shops or perhaps Muffet’s for a treat. Their laughter was clearer, unknowing that he was close by and listening, and Edge buried his face into his updrawn knees and did not wonder at what they might think if they saw him here, if their concern would turn to fear with a simple Check.

It was rare that he made such a foolish mistake. If his brother’s lessons hadn’t taught him caution, then life in Underfell certainly had. One was cautious or one was dead, there was little room for error. Although foolish was far too sedate a word for this. Insanity might be closer, to come here to this softer world with his LV still sizzling in his soul. He’d thought it was safe, that it had settled enough or perhaps wished it so desperately to be true that he’d convinced himself it was.

He should have known better.

Bounty hunters were supposed to restrain themselves to the deeper parts of Snowdin woods where no one lived, only existed, those who lumbered about with their minds lost to their LV. Supposed to, but anyone willing to bounty usually had high LV themselves and the irony that they would probably become what they hunted in the end was not often lost on them. When they were teetering between hunter and hunted, anyone unlucky enough to cross their path could be the one to set them off and send them over the brink. Edge’s luck had been especially poor today to come across a hunting pair while checking the traplines and if he’d been only slightly slower, a fraction less dedicated to his training, he would have simply been more dust added to their growing pile.

He hadn’t killed them, though it had been a near thing. Only taken them down to one HP and left them panting in the snow to either drag themselves away to try healing or perhaps finish each other off. Either way, they were likely as good as dead, but he refused to take them over the line. His own LV was already high enough, he shuddered to think of the amount of XP that would come from killing a hunter, much less two. He hadn’t stayed to see which option they chose, only hurried back to Snowdin proper without trying to seem as if he was hurrying. The walk had seemed endless, fraught with peril as anyone who dared check him would find him vulnerable. No one did, their ingrained wariness of the guard keeping them from trying their chances.

He’d arrived home with no fresh XP, but his soul still felt as if it were lit on fire from deep within, crying greedily for more. He likened it to a voice in the back of his skull, one that grew louder with every LV up and made cold demands for more payment in dust. He’d learned to ignore it, mostly, except for these moments when his soul felt as if it was swelling in his ribcage, hovering hot and bloated in his chest, and wresting control back seemed to take longer every time.

He should have called Blue then to cancel their cooking lesson, offered his regrets and made plans for another day. He should have and hadn’t, selfishly telling himself that he had it under control because he hadn’t wanted to cancel. He’d wanted to come to their shared cooking lessons, wanted to be here in this world with its abundant supplies and residents that walked the streets easily without having to peer out their front doors before stepping out into crisp air that didn’t taste of bitter, lingering dust. The same air he was so desperately inhaling now.

Tacos were the order of the day, a simple dish with a thousand variations. He’d been helping Blue chop up the brisket that’d already spent the day roasting slowly in the oven and he'd absently reached for a scrap of gristle that would otherwise be heading to the waste bin, only to have Blue playfully slap his hand away.

"Ah, ah,” he’d laughed, his starry eye lights bright and amused, “you'll spoil your appetite."

And in that one split second, his control broke free of his increasingly tenuous grasp and he'd nearly struck back. He could still see his intention in his mind's eye, to slap this little aggravation out of his way, how dare they lay a hand on him when they should be cowering at his feet, how dare they, how—

He'd reeled it back in almost instantly, but the damage was done, the urge lingering. He wouldn’t allow it control. He couldn’t. Edge turned on his heel and walked out, ignoring Blue's confused calls for him to come back, he was only teasing, Edge…?

He ignored it all, hasty strides taking him out into the cold snow, fleeing as if the hunters were still scrabbling at his heels and not one small, confused skeleton. He’d gone, one hand clawing at the front of his shirt to let in some much-needed cold air and didn’t stop until he was around the house at the back door that led downstairs to the machine. His boots slid in snow hardpacked from so many others walking through it and he’d slipped, falling heavily to the ground. His flight back to Underfell paused as he crawled over to lean against the house and all he could do was heave in long, slow breaths to ease the aching burn in his chest.

Around him, lights were coming from the windows of the other little houses, cutting through the darkness. Artificial dusk had fallen at some point after he’d arrived, and those houses were filled with Monsters who had no idea who was in their midst. Their souls weren’t like his; they were innocent, as pure as Blue’s, and—

Blue.

He’d been so confused, apologizing profusely even without knowing what he was apologizing for. Edge would have to think of something to tell him, some excuse for his poor manners. Better for Blue to think Edge rude than the alternative; that he’d very nearly beaten him bloody in his own kitchen for the tiny sin of teasing. He needed to get and keep control over himself, and right quickly. Any moment now Blue might come looking at him, all innocent, solicitous concern.

He didn’t want Blue to see him right now, didn’t want anyone to see him. But the voice that suddenly came was from no one he’d considered at all.

“you okay?”

Edge whipped around to see Stretch leaning around enough to peer around the corner, his lower half still concealed by the house. One of his ever-present cigarettes was smoldering between two fingers, ash falling from the tip into the snow, so much like dust—

“What the hell do you want?” Edge snarled, his guilt suddenly swirling with the tension Stretch always brought with him. There was something about Stretch that had simply irritated him at first sight, something that he couldn’t put to words. It couldn’t be his lazy ways or his attitude or even his way of dress. Sans was much the same and he didn’t provoke the same reaction. But there was something, something in his enigmatic smile or the cant of his hips that made Edge’s soul stir in a way reminiscent of LV. Like now, fanning the already agitated heat inside him even hotter.

Stretch only shrugged. He’d always taken Edge’s dislike of him in stride, offering the occasional sly insult and little more. “just what it says on the box. are you okay?”

Someone of the science mind might find it interesting that all of them sounded so differently. Papyrus’s voice was surprisingly nasally for someone who had no nose, and Edge’s own ranged into higher pitch, almost a screech at times, and it took considerable effort to keep it to a lower tone. The low rasp of Stretch’s, like velvet polishing marble, was surely a sign of the Universe’s bizarre sense of humor; he didn’t deserve such a voice to use while he snored his life away.

“I’m fine,” Edge said shortly.

“uh huh. fine. you’re always fine, huh. bet your ass you are.” He exhaled smoke through his nasal aperture and it wreathed his face, his cigarette glowed brighter as he took another drag. The glowing ember briefly illuminating his face, giving it an eldritch cast and making his resemblance to Edge even more uncanny than normal. "even when you’re not.”

Did he know what Edge had been thinking? Difficult to say with him, there were times when Edge envied that carelessly bland expression, so difficult to read, even for his own brother.

“Am I supposed to be grateful for your concern?” Edge asked instead. “I see you looking at me. I know what you think of me.”

“yeah?” Stretch said mildly. “you think you got the inside scoop of what’s on my mind?”

Edge closed his mouth hard and turned away. No, no, he didn't and that was part of the problem, wasn't it. He didn’t know what went on in that head, couldn’t begin to guess. He only knew that despite sharing a face, it was nothing like what was in his own.

Stretch finally stepped around the corner entirely, sauntering closer and seeming not to notice Edge’s barely stifled flinch even as he snarled, “Get that filthy thing away from me—"

He trailed away as Stretch tamped out the cigarette on the bottom of his sneaker before he could finish, tucking the remaining butt into his pocket.

Stretch sat down next to him, seemingly equally unperturbed by the snow soaking into his clothes and Edge’s unwelcoming expression. Not touching, but close enough if one want to reach out a hand. Or a fist.

“what am i thinking,” Stretch mused, “hm. tell you what, let me give you a quick rundown. right now, i’m thinking that i wanted to check on you ‘cause you ran out of my house like you were getting chased by a bony bat out of hell. even my little bro’s most creative cooking ain’t that bad. i wanted to make sure you're okay.” He shrugged, an easy roll of shoulders. “that's it, it's not that deep.”

That was untrue. The fact that he came out at all meant something and Edge didn’t understand what. Unless his goal was to keep Blue away, a sensible choice if that were so.

Stretch didn’t wait for him to gather his wandering thoughts. "you think you know what’s on my mind? let me tell you something. you come from the wrong side of the multiverse and shit is rough for you, right? you think i don’t get that? you think that sitting here cushy in my slice of the universe means i don’t get what it’s like for you?” He tipped his head towards Edge, half a smirk lifting the side of his mouth and Edge wondered if he were being mocked. “well, you’re right. i don’t. but only takes one look at your face to guess that.” His hands didn’t seem to know what to do without their usual vice. They rested on his knees, his thumbs rubbing absent circles against the coarse material of his cargo pants. “i don’t know what it’s like to live in your ‘verse and you only think you know what it’s like in mine. we’re that much alike, ain’t we.”

“I have LV.” And you don’t was left unspoken.

“i know. but i’d be the last person to judge you about that.” His smirk twisted into something almost bitter, some humor that Edge couldn’t place. “the very last.” Stretch sighed and climbed to his feet with a groan, pressing both hands into the base of his spine as he arched. He held out a hand and after a moment, Edge took it. his gloved fingers against Stretch’s bare ones. ”come on, my bro’s been working hard on his weird ass tacos. ‘preciate if you could choke down a bite or t—hey!”

His yelp was loud, echoing then lost in the cavern overhead. The moment he was on his feet, Edge pushed Stretch against the house and finally that casual façade cracked, his sockets startled and wide as Edge pinned him against the wall. That hot, heavy feeling in his soul surged again, overwhelming the linger dregs of LV and all Edge wanted was to wipe away that easy smirk, touch the untouchable.

Only that startled expression changed into something else, unexpected and unreadable. “well, now, didn’t know this was already on the menu.”

“What?” Edge only managed that single word before Stretch kissed him, full and hard, right on the mouth. His teeth were already parted and Stretch’s tongue slipped smoothly between them, moving against his own. Edge might have expected the taste of cigarettes and it was there, a little, the slightest taint of ashy nicotine. That taste was quickly swallowed up, engulfed, transmuting into unknown honeyed sweetness and warmth.

Stretch’s hands were resting on Edge’s chest, his bare, bony palms flat against his uniform shirt, bleeding warmth through the cold air around them and it was too fast, too much. Edge jerked back and stared speechlessly into Stretch’s face. His eye sockets were half-closed and within them, lights burned, their normal pale hue tinged with a strange cocktail of orange and blue.

His mouth moved as Edge stared, reforming that lazy smirk before he said, “you wanna go right here or take this up to my room?”

The words made no sense to him, nothing but pointless yammering. Then he realized he still had Stretch pinned against a wall, pressed to him from chest to pelvis.

Oh. He thought Edge wanted sex. He didn’t, that wasn’t why, but the actual reasons were fuzzy now, distorted. Why had he pinned Stretch to the wall? He was no longer certain. That confusing roil in his soul whenever he saw Stretch only surged harder as if straining inside his ribcage, LV only a careless afterthought, drowned out by the taste of sweetness lingering on his tongue. He breathed in hard through his teeth, but the cold air didn’t deaden that tingle, the burn shifting from his soul to his mouth. He didn’t know, he didn’t understand, he couldn’t—

Edge backed off, almost stumbling as he stuttered out, “I…I didn’t…”

That easy sultry expression shifted, Stretch’s gaze narrowing. “no, you didn’t, did you. pity,” he murmured. He dusted himself off as if to sweep away any lingering traces of Edge’s touch, already reaching into his pocket for his lighter and cigarettes. “welp. on we go, then, to dinner and probable indigestion.”

All Edge could do was follow him, noting that his back was infuriatingly dry while Edge could feel his own snow-wet clothes clinging uncomfortable to his bones.

Stretch turned the corner and abruptly stopped, wariness dropping briefly across his face before it smoothed away. Edge didn’t think, pushed in front of him automatically to face whatever threat dared to invade this world and instead found his own brother standing there.

With his slouching stance and his hands tucked into his jacket pockets, some might mistake Red for harmless. It was a mistake few survived and even Edge was wary of that casual menace. Red’s gaze narrowed as he looked at them, crimson eye lights sweeping over them both. He ran his tongue over his teeth, the tip digging into the gold one. “heya, ashtray. whatcha doing out here with my bro?”

The lazy warning was unmistakable, and Edge stiffened, already bracing himself to take the brunt of his brother’s temper. Stretch only stepped around him, flashing that careless smile as he tucked a cigarette into the corner of his mouth. He cupped his hands around the flame of his lighter, breathing out a cloud of smoke as he said, “nothing i wouldn’t do with you.”

“that ain’t much reassurance.”

“heh. wasn’t trying to be.” He strolled on, skirting around Red with an extra sway in his narrow hips as if he was just another obstacle in his path and left Edge to deal with his brother.

The moment he was out of sight, Edge swung around to glare at Red.

It had little effect on his brother, it never had. He only offered his own shrug, the roll of his shoulders infuriatingly similar to Stretch’s. “just makin’ sure you ain’t gonna lose your head, boss.”

Edge narrowed his gaze, hissing out, “I don’t need your help!”

“no?”

The word was soaked in doubt and Edge stormed past him, ignoring whatever else Red said as he went back into the house where Blue was surely waiting. There were apologies to be made and tacos to be eaten. At least whatever it was that Stretch stirred in his soul had settled his LV, that heat was banked back, for now. He could handle anything else that came his way, he didn’t need help from anyone, not even his brother, and if seeing Stretch sitting at the dinner table made him inhale slowly through his open mouth, his mouth watering not from tacos but from a memory of sweetness, it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter if that taste lingered, if that strange feeling still sat heavy in his soul.

None of it mattered, so long as he kept breathing.

-finis-

[skiller0dani]

Cherry Pie (2) | Billy Mitman

M A S T E R L I S T

smut | slow burn requests info wanna be on a Timmy taglist? click here

lemme also clear some stuff up YES this is a teacher/student relationship story NO there are no adult/under-aged person relationships YES I made Billy 18 in this story, because lets say he’s in his final semester of senior year. NO smut will not be in every chapter of this short story. It’s a SLOW BURN. meaning I will be adding sexual tension to every chapter to build up the anticipation for when it finally happens.

Previously... | As Alice pulls herself into bed, she can’t get a certain pair of green eyes out of her head. She can’t forget the feeling of his lips on hers, and she knows the rest of the week is going to be more difficult than she’d anticipated. | 

***

TUESDAY

Alice would be lying if she didn’t drag her a feet a bit this particular morning. In fact she nearly called in sick to work when she remembered she was a sub for another class. Meaning she’d agreed to be at work until Rachel returned next week, and that there was no getting out of facing Billy Mitman. One of her students that she unfortunately could not stop thinking about, she spent most of the previous evening tossing and turning. When sleep finally took her she couldn’t keep her mind from wandering back to him, to the way he looked at her. Or the sound of his voice, the feeling of him pressing his lips to hers. This is so beyond wrong, she is his damn teacher but she can’t stop her heart from racing when he enters the room. Her hands clench the steering wheel as she looks up at Valley High with disdain. How could one building hold her deepest fears and darkest desires all in the same halls? Knowing there might be students in need of her assistance this morning, Alice reluctantly leaves the safety of her car and enters her own personal battlefield: Valley High. 

She ducks her head and makes a beeline for her office and thankfully doesn’t bump into Billy in the halls as she shuts her door. “Been waiting here forever.” A voice sighs from behind her, causing Alice to jump. She whirls around, seeing Billy sitting in her office chair- playing with a desk toy she bought. Her heart immediately hammers against her chest as she eyes him, her palms shaking. “B-Billy, what are you doing here?” She asks as Billy stands, one of his eyebrows cocked as he eyes her. He takes a step towards her, “what’s wrong Miss Perribow? Do I make you nervous?” Billy asks, his voice a low whisper as he leans in so close that his nose nearly brushes against hers. Alice’s fingers grab the edge of the desk, her breath hitched in her throat as she feels the heat building between her legs. Alice’s voice is shaky as her eyes meet his, “what do want Billy?” His smirk is evident, even in the dimly lit office. Billy leans forward still, catching Alice’s eyelids flutter slightly as she leans forward into him. “Proving a point.” He whispers, just a hairs length away from her lips before he pulls away and turns out of her office. Alice releases a shaky breath, her heart slamming against her ribcage. She leans back against her desk, her body suddenly feeling to heavy for jello legs to hold her up. 

After a few private lessons Alice finds herself sitting in Mr. Alvarez’s office, her voice shaky. “Your email is about Leon Gregory correct?” He asks and Alice nods, having already filled the Principle in on what happened during class yesterday. “He became increasingly more inappropriate, I was uncomfortable and frightened.” Alice admitted and Mr. Alvarez nodded before looking over the email once more. “And William Mitman was involved? Was he making you feel afraid as well? I know he has issues of his own.” Mr. Alvarez asked and Alice feels frustration building in her chest as he accuses Billy. She feels the strong urge to defend him, and she doesn’t know why. “No actually Billy put himself between me and Leon, to protect me.” Alice said immediately, feeling a weight lifted from her chest at the smile stretching across Mr. Alvarez’s face. “He’s really come a long way.” He says and Alice feels pride swell in her chest, although she’s not sure way. “I’ll have Leon transferred out of the class.” He concludes as his phone on his desk rings. Alice nods with a smile before exiting his office and bumping- quite literally- into someone in the hallway. 

Looking up Alice can’t even believe who has their arms wrapped around her to catch her from falling- Billy. “How does this keep happening?” She asks him, her tense body relaxing only slightly as his arms stayed secured around her. Alice looks up into his eyes, noticing for the first time how much taller than her he is. Billy cocks an eyebrow, “it’s not my fault that you can’t stay away Miss Perribow.” Alice blushes deeply as she steps away from Billy and his strong protective arms, what is happening? Since when did Alice start having thoughts like that about her students? Shaking her head, Alice tries to step past Billy but his hand reaches for hers before pulling her into an empty hallway. Her back hits the wall and suddenly she feels like a teenager in high school, instead of a teacher and 24 year old woman. Billy’s hands press to the wall on either side of her head as his pupils widen, “today is my birthday Alice.” He breathes, and Alice doesn’t even notice that he called her by her first name. Her eyes lock on his as her heart races, “Happy Birthday Billy.” She whispers and Billy’s lips cock in a half smile. 

“I’m 18 Alice, I’m an adult.” He says again, his eyes on hers and Alice’s mouth goes dry as her knees go weak. Billy’s hands land on Alice’s arms when she begins to slide down the wall, and he quite literally holds her up. “I know how you feel about me, I can see it every time you look at me.” Billy whispers, his lips inching towards hers. Alice feels her heart pounding in her throat as her breaths turns into soft pants. Billy presses his body more firmly to hers, “tell me I’m wrong and I’ll believe you.” He challenges as he stares deep into her eyes. Alice shakes her head and tries to grasp at any shred of self control she has left as she places a hand on his chest. “It doesn’t matter Billy. This can’t happen, it just can’t.” Alice feels her heart squeeze as the words leave her lips but one of them needs to do the right thing. It needs to be her, she’s the adult and Billy is just a kid no matter how much he might deny that. Tears burn in her eyes as she pushes past Billy, and Alice does her best to ignore the pained look on his face as she turns the corner. It doesn’t matter how she feels, or even how he feels. It can’t happen, it won’t happen. It’s wrong. 

Alice was almost disappointed when she didn’t see Billy for the remainder of the day. She’d hoped he’d find her again and try to plea his case, to fight for her as silly as that sounds. He’s a kid, and she’s his teacher- of course he’s going to listen to her. Students slowly trickle in for the last class of the day, and Alice keeps her eyes peeled for Billy as the minutes tick away. The hollowed feeling in her chest deepens when the bell for class rings, and Billy still hasn’t showed. She proceeds with the lecture, feeling slightly distracted and can’t seem to keep her eyes off the classroom door for very long. Panic sets in her chest when she remembers Billy’s emotional problems, is indulging in her dark fantasies simply just taking advantage of an emotionally disabled boy? Billy may be smart, but maybe he doesn’t know the full depth of what he asks Alice, maybe he doesn’t truly understand what he wants. Maybe he thinks he wants her, but when she gives him what he asks for he regrets it because he’ll realize that’s not what he wanted. Then one call to the police later and Alice is getting arrested for assaulting a disabled person. Alice is so lost in her own thoughts that she doesn’t realize the bell has rung until the kids are packing up and leaving the classroom. 

Alice leans against her desk, alone with her swirling thoughts and pounding heart when the door to the classroom shuts. “Alice.” His voice is rough and it sends goosebumps tingling across her skin before he even crosses the classroom towards her. Alice doesn’t turn to look at him when she hears Billy’s tennis shoes on the tile floors. “I know what I want, and I know you want it to. I’m going to wait for you where we met last night, and if you don’t show in 20 minutes then I’ll have my answer.” He says and Alice turns to look at him, noticing the look of both sadness and determination on his face. “Billy, are you on your medication? You’re not thinking straight-” Alice starts but Billy laughs bitterly as he turns away from her. He runs a hand through his hair, “I’m thinking clearer then I have in a long time Alice. My medication made my brain feel paralyzed, I finally feel free.” Billy snaps, his tone strained as he desperately looks into Alice’s eyes. Alice doesn’t realize there are tears in her eyes until one slides down her cheek and Billy reaches up to wipe it. “You have 20 minutes Alice. I can’t wait forever.” Billy whispers, pressing a kiss to her forehead. 

Then he’s turning out of the classroom, the air seeming colder after his departure. Alice places her palms against the desk, how did everything get so confusing? She knows that she cares about Billy, even though she shouldn’t and every cell in her body is telling her to run down the hall after him. Every muscle in her body is screaming to just go get him, to hold him tight and kiss him hard. Yet the other rational part of her brain tells her that she shouldn’t, that he is a student. She needs to be the responsible one, she needs to put an end to this before it can begin. Her heart clenches at the thought as she sinks into the office chair, her eyes on the clock. Alice can’t have him, it doesn’t matter that he’s 18, it doesn’t matter if this is what he really wants. She can’t, logically how would this work in the future? He’s still very much an adolescent, while she’s an adult living in the adult world. For Christs sakes, she’s going through a divorce and he’s about to graduate high school. How could their lives piece together in a way that makes sense? 

5 minutes pass. Alice sits, her leg bouncing underneath her desk as she imagines Billy sitting there- waiting for her. Hoping to God she’s going to show, when she hasn’t even decided if she will or not. She knows the right thing to do is let him go, but she’s not sure she has the strength to do that. Alice places her head down against the desk as another 5 minutes tick by. Is letting him go the right thing? He is 18, and well it could be worth a try. Alice does care about him in a way she almost wished she didn’t. After another 5 minutes go by, Alice stands and makes a beeline for the door- she can’t let him go. “Miss Perribow, do you have a minute?” Margot asks in surprise as Alice whirls the door open. A flustered smile is pressed onto Alice’s face as she moves aside to let Margot in. Her heart is thumping at a hundred miles an hour as Margot begins to explain very specific changes they need to make in her singing lessons. Alice nods, and keeps her eyes on Margot the best she can while also glancing down at her watch. 4 minutes left. Margot continues to explain the way she wants her lessons to be structured and Alice feels panic setting in when only 3 minutes remain. 

When 2 minutes remain Alice looks up, “Margot I’m very sorry but I have an appointment I need to go to. We can continue this in the morning okay?” She says with a hurried smile while rushing Margot out the door. Alice slings her bag over her shoulder and throws a casual smile at Margot before speed walking down the hall towards the main entrance. Alice feels a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth as she pushes outside and quickly heads to the side of the building. “Billy!” Alice calls as she rounds the corner, but the sight before her makes her heart drop. Looking at the sidewalk she sees a cigarette butt, still smoldering but Billy isn’t here. She’s too late. Tears build in her eyes as she takes a few steps forward, desperately beginning to look around for him. Maybe she just missed him, maybe he’s standing somewhere else. “Billy?” She calls softly again, before leaning against the brick wall. Her heart shrivels in her chest as she imagines him waiting here before finally loosing hope and leaving with a broken heart. A quiet sob escapes her lips as she slides down the wall, her hands coming up to cover her face. 

***taglist*** @irishbish​ @90sthemedsunsets​ @newletas​ @londonmademedoit​ @80sangelics​ @elisaaru​

[bandaged-writer]

gasoline 02 || dazai

➤ Pairing: Mafia! Dazai x Ability User! Reader

➤ Genre: action, fluff, angst, eventual smut, gore, violence

➤ Warnings: nightmare-ish scenes, minor character death, murder, blood/gore, near death experience

➤ Summary: “How the hell am I supposed to trust the words of a mafioso?” At that, Dazai chuckled. “I don’t lie about these things.”

➤ Word count: 6.1k

➤ Note: this is unedited and not proof-read, we die like men. also, feedback is highly appreciated u.u

➤ previous || next

Pure laughter bounced off the sterile tiles that stretched themselves throughout the entirety of the hospital, the light made beating down on the white tiles and making it seem like they glared at anyone who was daring enough to walk down the hallways of this very building. Naked feet padded along the freshly wiped floor, greeting were thrown from left to right by the two children running around. Numbers instead of a name tag were attached to the hospital robe the two wore.

Nurses, doctors and patients swore that this duo brought some vitality into this heavy place, added some sunshine to a dark job which fought for others‘ life and often lost the battle. These children were more than welcome.

“You’ve got to hurry up [Name] or the nurses won’t have any candy left,“ a girl with short, pitch black hair and grey – almost white – eyes pouted as you struggled to keep up with her pace. The number #2692 was attached to her gown, written in bold numbers. You coughed into your elbow and put your palms on your knees, body slightly bent over as you caught your breath. Two weeks ago, your mother had dragged you to the doctor due to fever, heavy coughing and finding it difficult to breathe; the diagnosis was pneumonia and so, your mother had insisted on transferring you to a hospital. “Sorry, Fuyuko,“ a grin was flashed said girl’s way, her own lips twitching upwards. “You know I’m just starting to recover.“ #7843 was attached to your hospital gown which you had grown to dislike. It was a sad, plain white just like everything else in this place.

Luckily, the nurses were kind and developed a soft spot for Fuyuko and you, always sneaking some candy or leftover dessert from the caféteria. Children weren’t allowed to eat sweets. Sugar would make the dosis of antibiotics useless, the doctors said, but it sounded very sketchy to you. After all, dad also ate gummy bears whenever he got sick, so how true was this statement? How much could you trust them? Maybe, you shouldn’t even think about it.

Dressed in a blue uniform, the nurse handed Fyuko a bag of chips and two small packs of gummy bears. “This will remain our secret, though, okay?,“ she spoke in a hushed voice, her eyes attentive to her surroundings in case a doctor was to come around the corner. The two of you nodded in unison, eyes sparkling with gratitude and the innocence only a child had. “Thank you so much!“

After the small excursion to the nurse, you found yourself sitting on the rooftop of the hospital. The smell of green grass and blooming flowers greeted you, birds tweeted among themselves, singing melodies only mother nature would understand like a language. Bees flew through the air, sun rays caressed your cold cheeks and warmed you up from within your core. Spring was a beautiful season and perhaps your favorite one.

After a long, dead winter, Flora and Fauna came back to life.

Ripping open the bag of chips, Fuyuko sat down on the ground with a dull thud reaching your ears and you followed her example. She gave you a handful of the salty treat, the sound of chips crunching filling your skull which made you wonder why the sound of chewing was so much louder than everything around you. You would have to ask dad about it once you were home again; you didn’t like asking mom for she had..what did people call it, again? A hot temper? Yeah, that was it.

“You know, you never told me what you want to be when you grow up,“ Fuyuko said after wiping some salt off her lips and putting her index finger to her chin in thought. Grey orbs observed your curious gaze, trying to figure out what your dream could be, what would suit you. “Hmm..maybe a vet? Or an actress? Wait no!“ The girl was only taking random guesses without putting any effort into it. “A singer!,“ she exclaimed excitedly and clapped her hands together before she invaded your personal bubble, the tip of her nose almost poking yours. You merely snorted at that and put your hands behind your back, leaning your weight back. “That’s ridiculous, Fuyuko. Besides, you never told me what you want to be, either.“

Suddenly, heat rose to the ravenette’s cheek and tinted her pale skin in a light hue of red like fine dust. Eyes fell to the ground in an almost shy manner, Fuyuko’s entire aura almost seemed scared of what you might say to her answer. After all, she was aiming for a big goal. “Well..I want to become the best surgeon in the world. Even better than my dad.“ A grin adorned Fuyuko’s small face as she shared her vision of a hopefully bright and rosy future before her finger poked you right below your collarbone and above your chest, eyes demanding an answer from you now.

Craning your head back, you gazed up at the snow white clouds passing by above you, hoping that they’d write the answer down for you or send you a sign, a clue, no matter how small it was. You couldn’t remember if you ever had a dream job for the future, nothing had ever piqued your interest nor had you ever been exposed to any job. Dad was always at the office from dusk to dawn, making sure that all the bills could get paid while your mother was at home, taking care of you. You had no idea what your mother worked as, you were scared of asking.

“I think it’s my wish to be happy and loved.“

As soon as your wish was spoken, the world got visibly and audibly distorted. Your surroundings were spinning, rain was poured from the clouds above you and somewhere close by, a thunderstorm was making its way towards your current location. Incoherent words bore into your ears and settled down in your brain, making you clutch your ears and curl in on yourself.

“You need to run.“ It was your father’s begging voice.

“Everything is your fault!“ Your mother’s voice, shouting at you as always.

“You were never loved.“ Was this Dr. Ito? Fuyuko’s dad? You couldn’t tell anymore.

“It would’ve been better if you didn’t exist.“ You didn’t recognize this voice.

You woke up in a cold sweat, hairline drenched and several strands of your locks clinging to your skin. Silent tears ran down your cheeks, your shirt stuck to you like a second skin and your heart felt like it was trying to flee from within your ribcage. Slowly but surely, you took in your surroundings one by one and found comfort in reality.

Sunlight began sliding its way into your room, the clock read six am and nothing was out of the ordinary. Pictures still decorated your walls, the desk remained being a mess from past assignments and the curtains were played with by the wind – you had probably forgotten to properly close the window before you had gone to sleep. Finding tranquility within your own four walls, your heart slowly calmed down and you finally took notice of Yukino’s hand on your shoulder, worry being laced into her delicate face.

“Are you okay? I heard you crying in your sleep,“ the familiarity of her voice made you realize that you had been stuck in a nightmare in the form of a ghost of the past. Never had you ever dreamed about your childhood, never had it ever been that haunting, never had any nightmare made you cry. Perhaps, this was a bad omen – the flowers, yesterday’s confrontation and today’s nightmare. All of these events were too odd, too out of place to be considered unfortunate inconveniences; they were the opposite of serendipity - a zemblanity. „Yeah, I’m good,“ you replied, gaze obviously still shaken and maybe even detached as you worked through the possible meaning of the disaster life presented you on a silver platter like a dessert. „It was just a nightmare.“

Flickering lights, faces of people and the rich green of the trees blurred into one unstable image as your body relaxed into the passenger seat of Yukino’s car. The radio song on the radio, Eight by IU, unfortunately became nothing but buzzing noise in your mind as you still dwelled on the nightmare. A shame really, considering you really liked the song and it was the perfect melody to describe the weather: pleasantly warm with a bit of wind.

Why were you so hung up over a mere nightmare? After all, people dreamed about weird things all the time, some dreams were ridiculous and seemingly held no meaning. Dreams were nothing but a brain’s way to process the events in one’s life - may it be their past or the present. There should be no deeper meaning, and yet, you involuntarily got stuck in a vicious cycle of thoughts upon thoughts which desired to twist your day into a negative one.

“Hey, [Name], we’re here,” Yukino snapped her fingers in front of your face and brought you back to reality within a few moments. A cute pout decorated her face, her dark eyes glowing in the light as she seemed to read your mind. You really couldn’t hide anything from her, could you? “Ah, right, the job interview,” checking your appearance in the rearview mirror, you fixed some wild strands of hair and made sure to look as professional as you could. It was an important job interview which would allow you to finally earn proper money and assist Yukino in paying the bills like you had promised just before you had studied abroad.

Yukino took your hands in hers and a smile graced her face as she looked you straight into the eyes. Maybe this was what sincerity looked like: when one’s eyes were clearer than the ocean with no hidden motives buried beneath pitch black pupils. “Look, I know that your nightmare shook you, but you can’t let it hinder you from bagging this job, got it?” It sounded like she was scolding you much like a mother would when her child had one too many cookies and refused dinner as a result. Cute but to be taken seriously. “You’re more than qualified for this job and deserve it more than anyone else. There’s no way you could possibly fail this,” Yukino’s words were soft and full of trust in your own abilities, a kind of trust you unfortunately didn’t have in yourself. 

“You really always know what to say, don’t you?,” you chuckled to yourself, got out of Yukino’s car and dusted off your jeans, freeing the material of any pollen that might’ve gotten stuck. Receiving her grin as a reassuring reply, your feet confidently carried you to the marketing agency which wanted to desperately hire you.

The interior of the agency was oddly comfortable. Walls were painted in warm tones varying from beige to dark brown, plants decorated the space and gave the entire surroundings the feeling of a huge living room. White and wooden-colored furniture gifted the surroundings a finishing and modern touch.

“Ah, you must be [Name], right?” The lady was probably in her 30s, black hair tied into a neat ponytail and her face covered in light makeup. Her delicate hand reached out to shake yours in a happy greeting, her reddish lips pulled into a professional yet real smile. One could tell she was a genuine person. “Please, follow me.”

And so, you found herself in her bright office, seated in a comfortable, plush chair while the kind lady looked through your resumé another time, her head nodding one or two times. “Miss, your grades are quite impressive and you majored in business, too, I see. This is very good,” at her praise, a nearly sheepish smile graced your features. Truth be told, you hadn’t often received praise since your mother had disappeared when you were 8 and your father died a few years ago due to a car accident. Yukino was the only source of praise and validation. “Thank you so much, miss,” you bowed your head lightly, still smiling. Your life was finally going right.

“May I ask why you decided to study abroad instead of staying here in Yokohama? There are lots of good universities here,” her tone was in no way intrusive, but rather curious - maybe even on a personal level. “Ah, my dad believed the number 20 came along with a bad omen and advised me to discover something new,” there was no way you could tell her the entire truth about a mafia-ish deal, the flowers and the things you had seen the day before. You doubted she would believe you - such things only ever happened in movies, after all. She laughed at that, a pleasant sound, you noticed. “Elders do tend to hold on to such belfies, don’t they? I understand that very well.” The lady put your resumé aside, kind eyes looking at you with joy sparkling in them. You didn’t expect such a kind person to interview you.

“I’m looking forward to working with you, [Name].”

With one less worry weighing on your shoulders, you thanked the lady for her time, assured her you’d work hard and left her office with a proud grin stretching your lips and a confident, happy swing in your hips.

Funny, what such a little, positive event could trigger within a person. It could turn one’s entire day upside-down for the better or worse, but lady luck seemed to be with you today. What a good feeling it was to feel your heart beat as light as a feather.

Yukino was seated on the hood of her car, her sparkling gaze fixated on the entrance of the agency and anxiously waiting for you to come back. She was probably more excited and more optimistic than you could ever be, but that was why she meant so much to you - compared to you, she was like a mitochondria: an entire power house. “You made it, didn’t you?!” The fair-haired woman came running into your arms and greeted you in a tight hug as if you had been gone for years. Happiness radiated off of her like the sun emitted its rays. “Of course, I did!” 

Ushering you into the comfy passenger seat of the car, Yukino suggested a small celebration for your successful interview and that you were finally back home where you belonged. 

“After a year, one might think you would’ve overcome your love for chocolate ice-cream,” stuffing a spoonful of vanilla ice-cream into her mouth, Yukino glared at the icy treat in front of you which was decorated with some strawberries and cherries. Delicious for everyone else but the woman sitting opposite of you. “Hah?! And what about your obsession with vanilla ice-cream? You never change, do you?,” accusingly, you pointed your spoon at Yukino who rolled her eyes in surrender and let out a huff of air. Unfair how you knew your roommate better than the back of your own hand. “Tsk, you win this round. But only because I’m letting you,” Yukino teased with a smirk on her lips and giggling as you gave her a thorough are-you-serious-look. “Whatever makes you sleep at night.”

From that point on, the conversation varied widely but still found its focus on your year spent abroad. After all, you had gotten home late the night before and Yukino didn’t want to bombard you with questions when you’d been obviously tired. Questions about the language and food seemed to pique Yukino’s interest the most as well as the educational system which she didn’t really understand. Well, it didn’t matter anyway. Yukino had long since graduated and didn’t have to understand foreign school systems.

“Okay that sounds nice and all, but did you meet anyone special?”

Gulping down a fair amount of your ice-cream, you nonchalantly shook your head at your friend’s question. It was a waste of time, would hinder your career, you had always said, but maybe, the reason why you never brought anyone home went deeper than that, “you know I’m not interested.” A bowl of finished ice-cream stood in front of Yukino, strong arms crossed over her chest. Pleased looked different. “Jeez, you’re so boring. I bet there are lots of people willing to date you if you give them the chance.” Dating had never been a high priority in your life; with the entire anxiety about your dad’s deal going on, you didn’t want anyone to get dragged into the mess which was your family. It was too much for someone ordinary, you reasoned or maybe it was a lame excuse.

“Anyways,” you bit into a juicy strawberry and let the sweet taste flood your strawberries. Whoever invented fruits deserved to be kissed. “What did you do to the flowers last year?,” it was innocent curiosity since you had never received or saw a bouquet of orange lilies for your 20th birthday. By the time that day came around, you were already abroad, studying and looking for a job in Yokohama for the day you’d finally return. “I gave them back to a bandaged man. He was very kind,” Yukino recalled the memory of a male brunette, very handsome and charming. “I think he’d totally be your type!”

There was only one bandaged man walking the earth of Yokohama and his name was Dazai Osamu who possessed the annoying ability to nullify any other gift - no matter how powerful it was. Everyone would be rendered to a mere human being in front of him.

Your lips were pulled into a straight line. “No, thanks.”

“Ahh, you’re really no fun, [Name]!,” Yukino whined and craned her head back in defeat.

The rest of the day was spent strolling throughout Yokohama and catching up with one another, a bit of teasing and bickering as always. It felt so normal to be back that it was akin to never having left in the first place and maybe, in a way, you felt guilty for leaving Yukino on her own. Yes, she was a grown woman who could stand her ground, but you could still remember how happy she was when you moved in with her and how sad she was when you announced your department for the duration of an entire year. 

Yukino completed you and you completed Yukino.

“You know, you kind of remind me of my grandma’s wrinkly face with that face mask on,” Yukino snickered with the toothbrush in her mouth and some saliva mixed with toothpaste dribbling down her chin. She swore her relative was like a replica of you; according to Yukino, the two of you shared the same height, same hair color and the habit of Being Done with her. Knocking your hip into Yukino’s to scold her, your eyes narrowed ever so slightly as you spoke the next words with a straight face, “I bet I could beat you with a slipper just as well as your granny can, too.”

She spat the remaining toothpaste into the sink, put the toothbrush aside and flicked your mask-covered forehead which earned Yukino a rare pout of yours. She thought it was cute, though. “Aaand that’s why you’re single.”

Internally, you wondered why Yukino was so adamant about you finding a partner. Her bugging was like a mosquito haunting you at night, pestering you whenever you laid back down and flew right by your ear. She had never been too interested in your love life, but maybe her sudden interest arose from the fact that you’d been away for quite some time. Whatever it was, you were sure it’d disappear like smoke in no time.

“You really need some sleep. Maybe then you’ll stop annoying me,” taking the face mask off and tossing the remains into the trash can next to the sink, you basked in the way your skin glowed underneath the pleasant lighting the lightbulb provided. Maybe you should date yourself, you silently thought to yourself. “Well, you definitely do need your beauty sleep or else your face will always remain that wrinkly.”

Why were you befriended with her? You forgot.

The full moon illuminated the dark hallway and offered Dazai enough light to see his surroundings clearly, although he probably knew his way around the mafia’s headquarters, knowing the layout like the back of his hand. Soles of leathered shoes remained silent with every step the brunette took, his black coat offering him some warmth which this entire place severely lacked.

He had just come back from analyzing anomalies happening throughout Yokohama; despite summer reaching slowly reaching its peak, snow had been spotted. Witnesses talked about the temperature suddenly dropping to the point they had to turn on their heater, but apparently the cold never stayed for long. After a maximum of half an hour, temperatures would rise again to their original 30 degree celsius. This certainly wasn’t a funny trick by the weather nor caused by global warming. Although Dazai didn’t know who it was, he was absolutely sure that this was the doing of an unknown ability user.

Was this the story Mori told him about when he was around eight years old?

Before Dazai could continue his train of thought, he pushed the doors to Mori’s office open and was greeted by the mafia’s boss. “I’m glad you could make it this fast, Dazai,” Mori’s lips were pulled into a smile which Dazai could find no trust in. This entire man should never be trusted for no one knew anything about his true intentions; it even took Dazai quite a time of thinking to figure out one of Mori’s schemes. “I was about to try out a new suicide method, too..,” the brunette trailed off like he was saddened by Mori hindering from dying during this sweet, humid night.

Mori got up from his chair, hands folded behind his back and lilac eyes gazing upon the city which the mafia looked over during nights such as this particular one. Neo signs flickered in the distance, traffic lights were still active while cars roamed the streets, making it seem like this town never slept. “I need you to pick someone up by the pier,” always so vague.

Brown eyes were empty as they took in Mori’s posture and form; it seemed like he was looking forward to something if the slight smile and the shimmer in Mori’s eyes were anything to go by. “And who exactly might that be?” Usually, simple tasks like these were done by lower-ranking people like Dazai’s friend Odasaku. Maybe said person was dangerous? Or posed a threat to the mafia? In the end, one couldn’t refuse the boss’s order. “I’m sure you remember our lovely encounter with [Name]. She’ll need the help.”

“Why though? Just yesterday, you basically let her off the hook. It’s unusual for you to be so interested in someone,” Dazai was still analyzing Mori’s motive, but maybe it was a better decision to wait for the tale to unfold and then piece it together bit by bit. The suicidal brunette was smart, but not all-knowing. “I’m just bringing some things into motion,” Mori smiled at the younger man before his gaze fell back upon the city, his fingertips slightly pressed up against the huge window as his mind was calculating possible outcomes for the scenario he had created. “Besides..only fire can break ice.”

Orders were orders and so, Dazai leaves the office of his superior without another word. One thing was clear: Mori needed you to get rid of the ice ability user who was responsible for the anomalies, but the unknown variable was how Mori would convince you to join sides with the mafia. Knowing the boss for the majority of his life, Dazai knew that it’d be something to break you with.

How cruel the man was. Towards such a charming lady, as well.

It didn’t take long for Dazai to find a spot along the pier, his eyes gazing at the moon which was reflected onto the surface of the water. His body leaned against the wall of an abandoned warehouse and he couldn’t help but wonder if it just got a bit colder.

Naked feet padded along the wooden floor, your throat was dry and eyes heavy with sleep as you dragged your body to the kitchen like a sack of rice. No, this time you didn’t wake up thanks to a nightmare, but because you felt like you were dying of thirst and the usually full bottle of water by your bed was empty. You had no choice but to leave the comfortable, warm sheets and go out into the dark unknown aka your kitchen.

“The hell..?,” you mumbled and rubbed some sleep from your eyes as you stepped into something wet and..sticky. Maybe it was water? Did Yukino spill it? No, water didn’t stick to your feet like glue and definitely didn’t smell so overwhelmingly disgusting. Letting your gaze drop, your eyes suddenly widened in horror and you clasped a hand over your mouth in shock.

You stood in a puddle of blood and it came from Yukino’s room.

Suddenly, you were wide awake. “Yukino?!,” you yelled and burst through her door. What greeted you looked like a bloodbath in the form of your best friend who was gasping for air, her dark eyes shimmering with fear and pleading you for something that you couldn’t read. Your mind was too clouded with panic to figure out anything.

You dropped to your knees and ignored the painful crack that followed the hard impact, gathering Yukino up into your arms. Her throat had been sliced, the cut was too deep to cauterize it with your ability and then call an ambulance. Besides, the loss of blood was already immense, the red fluid being easily soaked up by your clothes and staining your skin. Yukino’s body was freezing cold, your body almost instinctively dropped her but your heart refused to obey.

“[Name], please, run,” her breathing was heavy and her chest rose and fell irregularly as her lungs craved the air. She coughed up blood, vision getting slowly blurry as her eyes found crying ones. “Shut up, it’s not your time to die!,” you raised your voice through the tears, put your hand on Yukino’s sliced throat and attempted to cauterize the wound, but the bleeding was too strong and destroyed the small crust that was created. Gently, Yukino placed her cold hand on your heated one and removed the bloody limp from the wound, her dark eyes holding contact with you. “Listen, this person will get you, too,” it got hard to speak. “So please, run and live, [Name].”

Hot tears dropped on Yukino’s face as you took her words in and held her close to your body as if it could somehow save her. “Don’t leave me, Yukino,” your voice was smaller than a mouse, barely above your whisper and more fragile than the thinnest glass. The only good thing you ever had in your life was being taken away from you, slipped through your fingers like water. “I’m sorry I have to leave so early,” Yukino spoke softly and although it was an obvious struggle for her, she smiled up at you and brought a bloody hand to your face.

“I promised to always be by your side. Now I’ll have to watch you from afar,” this wasn’t a mere promise but an honest vow you knew she would never break. Not even at the brink of death did Yukino think of herself or showed fear. Instead, she seemed to come to terms with her fate.

“Please, smile for me, [Name]. It’d be nice if your smile was the last thing I’d get to see.”

Hastily, you wiped the tears away and smiled as your heart shattered in your chest. Tears kept coming and moistened the collar of your shirt, stuck to your cheeks and some even dried on Yukino’s bloodied cheeks. You could feel your best friend’s heartbeat gradually slow down, her eyes fluttered shut as soon as you granted her the last wish.

Heavy sobs tore through your throat, shaky hands hugged Yukino’s head to your chest, your mind refused the harsh reality. “I’m sorry,” you said, gently rocking your body back and forth and repeating the phrase like a broken record which didn’t know any other words.

You’d been sitting in your friend’s blood for minutes and apologizing over and over again until something icy whizzed past you, cutting through the skin of your cheek and drawing blood. A gasp slipped your mouth and you turned around and spotted a masked, hooded person standing outside, a dagger made of ice and drenched in Yukino’s blood in their hand.

Everything happened way too fast. The unknown person came dashing through the opened window, grabbed you by the throat and tossed your body into a tree, effectively knocking the air out of your lungs and making splinters dig into your back. “Why did you do this?!,” you screamed at the stranger in front of you but it was the same as talking to a wall: you got no reply. The person opened their palm, ice bullets appearing out of nowhere and it dawned on you that Yukino’s words were true. You were this monster’s next target and probably their main objective for a reason you could only hope to figure out. Several of these bullets sped towards you, but you managed to melt them with a controlled wall of fire building up in front of you.

There was no way you could fight this person in this area. Houses filled with families surrounded you and at this rate, the neighborhood would either be frozen or burned down along with the people. In a panic, your mind decided to let you run towards the pier which wasn’t too far away but would certainly let you fight against whoever was behind that mask. 

Sticks and stones hurt the soles of your feet or banged against your ankles painfully, the lack of air you could inhale hurt your lungs and not to mention the emotional pain of Yukino’s death. Everything hurt you and all you wanted was to break down and cry, but this wasn’t an option when your own life was on the line. 

Somehow, you managed to dodge several attacks and you silently thanked whatever deity was watching over you for letting you reach the pier.

Abruptly you came to a stop, sand squeezing itself between your toes and your skin dyeing the sand in a hue of red. Your eyes scanned the area for a hooded figure lurking within the shadow, but found nothing but ordinary trees, bushes and an owl catching a mouse. Just before you could lull yourself into a false sense of safety, a sharp pain penetrated your abdominal area and cold flooded your veins instantly. “You little..,” the person was faster than you anticipated; the stranger had shown up out of nowhere and only waited for you to make a mistake so they could stab you with a knife made of ice which disappeared into tiny snowflakes.

Silent as always, the unknown person pushed you into the river and left you to drown.

The pain coursing through every fiber of your being was overwhelming, but the wound wasn’t as deep as it might seem, despite the blood loss you experienced. You pressed your hand into the stab wound and let the limb heat up until the heat stopped the bleeding; this was only a temporary solution and would not last very long, however.

The current of the river was strong and pulled you along or even pushed you down several times, making your attempt at getting air seem futile which it was. You were so close to reaching the surface, so close to finally breathe again until your palm hit a thick layer of ice which you couldn’t punch or cut through. It was a truly futile attempt.

Crap, you mentally cursed your luck and the stranger for having thought so far ahead, though it shouldn’t come as a surprise. The predator should always be one step ahead of their prey, after all. Your fist collided with the ice a few times, the lack of air slowly got to you and forcing you inhale nothing but the salty water surrounding you - you had no chance but to hurry up.

It took you several moments to heat up a majority of your body thanks to the much colder water, but soon, the liqiuid began bubbling around you and the layer of ice began cracking. Just a bit more. You pushed your palms flat against the ice and let the limbs catch fire to finally push through the ice which had nearly buried you.

At once, the ice shattered and found its way back into the warm water as snowflakes. 

Exhausted and injured, you dragged your body to the nearest shore where you coughed up a curious mix of water and blood, your wound reopened at the force. You pressed both of your hands to your injury, dried lips parting ever so slightly as you began panting out of pain. The sound of rustling clothes drew your attention and you expected that stranger to show up once again, but instead, you caught sight of a black coat being thrown your way and a pair of shoes.

“Looks like someone did quite the number on you,” Dazai had his arms crossed over his chest as he took in your ruined form. Blood drenched you from head to toe, some water was probably still stuck in your lungs and not to mention that you almost drowned underneath that blanket of ice. “Shut up,” you snap at the brunette and immediately paid the price. Blood pooled in the back of your throat and snuck its way out with the help of an ugly cough. The taste made you cringe, pain made you curl in on yourself.

“You know you could get this treated if you joined the mafia,” Dazai spoke matter of factly and caught the menacing glare of yours before your eyes could fully develop it. You didn’t even have the time to protest. “It seems like we’re both looking for the same person now. Unless you really don’t want to and would rather die,” you honestly weighed your options, mind swaying between a tempting offer and the want to escape this very real nightmare. Helplessness and despair quickly grew where your heart shattered, making a perfect ground for anger to grow in - not towards the brunette in front of you, but towards yourself for being so weak.

You reach for the coat in front of you and tightly tie the article of clothing around your waist to slow down the bleeding, letting Dazai help you up to your feet. One bandaged arm was wrapped around your waist to keep you steady, his free hand pulled your arm across his shoulder. Dazai was warm, you noticed and unconsciously leaned into the man.

“I can’t understand how your beauty almost managed to die unlike me!,” the man whined and a pout found home on his lips. Dazai couldn’t understand how he always managed to fail, yet someone who did not wish for death, and was very beautiful, almost gained that sweet kiss of death he’d been chasing for so long. “What are you? A suicidal dumbass?,” you smirked as Dazai feigned overdramatic hurt over your comment. He was almost..comedic. “I can’t believe a lovely lady came for my neck like that! Unbelievable how such tender lips can spit such venom right into my poor heart!”

As the apparently suicidal man continued his rambling, you couldn’t help but notice how incredibly convenient his appearance was. Your mind quickly came to the conclusion that it was his doing. “Why the hell are you exactly here?,” you questioned sharply, your voice left no room for any playfulness or jokes. It didn’t surprise you when Dazai dropped the theatrical facade of his and switched to a more serious persona within the blink of an eye. He was serious, yet his face looked genuine.

“I know you must think that I planned the death of your friend, but I assure you I was only told to show up at a certain place to save a certain, stunning lady.”

Nevermind, he wasn’t serious.

“How the hell am I supposed to trust the words of a mafioso?”

At that, Dazai chuckled.

“I don’t lie about these things.”

You wonder how much you could trust him and decided to be wary, instead.

[404gendernotfound]

At least I’m your idiot (Katsuki Bakugou x reader)

Summary: You wake up in Bakugous bed after you had thrown a party with everyone at the UA dorms. You don’t remember how you got there and what happened, so you decide to just quietly leave when he caught you sneaking out. What happened after that was something you never imagined possible.

Contains: fluff, slightly suggestive

Warnings: none

Wordcount: 2,6 K

Enjoy!

________________________________________________________________

I couldn’t remember the last time my head hurt like this. I drank way too much at the little party we had yesterday at the UA dorms even though I knew very well that me and alcohol definitely don’t work great together. But somehow the whole day had made me feel some type of way where I just needed to escape into the depts of a lake filled with alcohol. The first few shots went very well but after that I just couldn’t remember anything. Since I felt like my head was about to explode, I opened my eyes and sat up on the bed. Weird. I didn’t remember my room looking like that. It might have been because I was still sleepy that it took me a while to realize that I actually wasn’t in my room. As the realization hit me, I looked around until I spotted the person next to me on the bed. To my surprise it was non other than Bakugou Katsuki who was still sleeping peacefully right next to me. Starting to slightly panic I looked down at myself to see that I was fully closed. Thank god. At least I didn’t do something stupid in my drunken state. Maybe the others had already left as he took me to his room. There was no other explanation why he would have brought me here. Still being confused about why I was here I slipped out of the bed making sure that I wouldn’t wake Bakugou. I really didn’t want to be confronted with Mr. I-get-angry-at-you-for-no-reason first thing in the morning so I tried to get out of his room as quiet as possible.

“Where do you think you’re going, idiot?!”, he growled in his usual angry tone.

I turned around guilty of being caught trying to sneak out of his room. He was now laying on his stomach, his head resting on his arms as he looked at me. I was planning on just leaving unnoticed but now there was no way to do that anymore. I couldn’t just tell him that I was going back to my room because I was sure he was going to get angry at me for just running away from this situation. But I didn’t really know what to do either so I just came up with the first excuse that came to my mind.

“Umm…I was just going to the bathroom”, I said slightly stuttering.

He looked at me as if he didn’t believe a word I said. I wouldn’t believe myself in this situation either, since it looked really obvious that I was just trying to escape a conversation. Since there was no turning back now I just had to go with my lie. Maybe washing my face would actually help me to think a little bit clearer.

“Alright”, he said, his voice still sounding angry.

I hesitantly grabbed the door handle and opened the door.

“You better be coming back”, I heard Bakugou shout after me as I left his room.

I walked towards the bathroom and sighed loud as soon as I was inside. I didn’t know what to expect when I return to his room and I honestly was kind of scared to hear what he had to say. Since there was no sight of my memory returning even after washing my face with ice cold water, I just stood in front of the mirror looking at the person in the mirror. I looked just as exhausted as I felt with messy hair and dark bags under my eyes. I redid my ponytail to look at least a little bit better and decided then and there that I would never drink as much as yesterday. Who knows what other dumb shit I did last night that I didn’t know of. I must have been really lost in my thoughts that I hadn’t even noticed someone else entering the bathroom to go to the toilet until I heard flushing in one of the stalls. I turned towards the sound just to see a sleepy Kirishima walking towards me with a little smile on his face.

“Oh hey there Y/n”, Kirishima said as he washed his hands in the sink right next to me.

“Morning Kiri”, I said slightly smiling back at him.

I wasn’t surprised that he hadn’t asked me why I was here. Since I hung out a lot of times with the Bakusquad and we mostly spend our time on this floor it wasn’t weird that a girl would be in the boys shared bathroom. He must have noticed that I looked exhausted since he walked over and placed a hand on my shoulder.

“Are you ok?”, he asked.

Was I ok? Other than the headache and slight fear of what I would be confronted with when I got back to Bakugou I felt ok.

“Tough night, huh?”, he added with a slight smile on his face.

“I’m fine. I guess I just drank too much. I should head back before a certain someone blows up. Literally”, I said which made Kiri laugh.

“Oh! So you spend the night at Bakus room?”, he grinned.

“Shut up! My brain is hurting. I can’t handle your teasing this early in the morning”, I said laughing and playfully hit his shoulder before we left the bathroom together.

As I stopped in front of Bakus room I watched Kiri wink at me before he entered his own room. That didn’t really make me feel less nervous but at least it distracted me a little bit. I opened the door and slowly entered the room. Baku had moved from laying on the bed to sitting with his back against the wall and the blanket covering only half of his naked upper body. I had to slightly smile at his also still sleepy state. It was a rare sight to see Baku like this and I wasn’t complaining about the sight in front of me. I walked towards him and sat down.

“So you did come back. I was sure you would just bail on me”, he said in a more friendly tone than before.

“Well…you caught me red handed”, I admitted laughing and awkwardly scratching my neck.

Baku looked shocked at me. He probably didn’t expect me to be this honest.

“So are we gonna talk about what happened?”, he asked.

“To be honest…I don’t remember”, I mumbled.

It was quiet for some time before I turned my head towards him. I wasn’t quite sure what emotion the expression on his face portrayed exactly but he somehow looked disappointed.

“So that’s how it is”, Baku said and looked at me again.

“You’re just gonna pretend that nothing happened between us?”, he added.

So something did happen between us. I just hoped that I didn’t drunkenly confessed to him that I’ve liked him ever since I joined class 1a. I turned my whole body towards him and tried to find the words I needed for him to understand that I wasn’t trying to avoid the subject but I genuinely didn’t remember.

“No. I just…I wish I could remember what happened. But I really can’t. The last thing that I remember is us sitting at the table with the others and taking the first few shots. I swear”, I explained trying my best not to sound like I was about to cry from frustration.

Baku ran his hands through his hair and groaned.

“You really don’t remember?”, he asked again and I nodded.

The way he looked at me now was different than before. He didn’t look as disappointed anymore and for the first time I actually thought I was seeing the soft side of Baku.

“Dumbass”, he mumbled under his breath as he pulled me against his chest with a light chuckle.

My head rested on his chest and I could hear his heart almost hammer against his ribcage. My cheeks flushed and I looked up at him confused. Why would his heart race like that?

“Do you hear that? That’s how I feel about you, idiot”, he said and rolled his eyes as I opened my mouth wanting to say something but I wasn’t able to form any words.

“And you would already know that if you dumbass didn’t get that drunk last night.”, he added and playfully ruffled my hair, making it a mess again.

Did he just say in a very Bakugou way that he liked me back? As Baku noticed that I looked a bit lost he leaned down to my ear.

“Let me show you what you missed last night”, he whispered and lifted me onto his lap before resting his hands on my hips.

I was still a little confused and shocked about his confession as the heat rushed into my cheeks from realizing in what kind of position he had moved me. Was I really that bold last night to just climb onto his lap? Baku noticed my flustered state and softly smiled.

“Close your eyes”, he whispered in the softest voice I’ve ever heard from him.

“Why?”

“Do you trust me?”, he asked and I nodded.

“Then close your eyes”

I obeyed his wish and slowly closed my eyes. My heart was racing like crazy at this point and I was sure he was able to hear it hammer against my chest. One of his hands moved from my hips to cup my cheek and softly caressed it. Just as I was about to melt into his touch I felt his lips softly graze mine before he connected them in a soft and gentle kiss. After quickly processing what was happening right now I shyly kissed him back and moved my arms to his shoulders to keep myself steady while melting into the kiss. As Baku detached his lips from mine and saw my burning red cheeks he smiled.

“Didn’t expect that, right idiot?”, he asked, stating it more as a fact than an answer.

He was right. I expected everything but not him being this gentle and caring with me. I knew that most of his angry attitude was just an image he kept up in front of everyone that knew him but that façade and the wall he had build around his emotions sometimes crumbled a little bit while being around his close friends. But I still couldn’t get used to a not so angry Bakugou. I leaned my forehead against his and sighed. Him calling me a dumbass or and idiot was nothing knew and I was already really used to it but it somehow sounded different now.

“At least I’m your idiot”, I whispered and watched Bakugou blush as he heard my words.

I’ve never seen him blush in the context of being flustered and not getting red from anger and I was really enjoying the view in front of me.

“Say that again”, he demanded with bright red cheeks.

I had to smile at his request. My heart was happily jumping around in my chest while I moved my face closer to his so my lips were slightly grazing his while speaking.

“I said, at least I’m YOUR idiot”, I repeated and noticed his grip on my hips tighten.

“God”, he groaned and connected our lips again.

This time, the kiss was a little bit rougher and hungrier than before. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him even closer to me. Goosebumps started to build all over my body as a quiet moan slipped from Bakus lips as I accidently grinded on him trying to reduce the space between our bodies. He parted from the kiss slightly panting and grinned.

“Even though I wanted to scold you for getting that drunk last night I really can’t be angry at you at all. If you dumbass hadn’t drunkenly clung onto me and whined that…and I quote “Katsuki will never like me back” then I would have never kissed you yesterday. So I really have to thank drunk you”, he explained and actually genuinly smiled at me.

I’ve never really seen Bakugou smile as bright as that. I moved my hands from his neck to his face to cup his cheeks.

“What are you staring at?”, he asked.

“I’ve never seen you smile like that. It looks beautiful”, I admitted and he closed his eyes sighing before he opened them again and purposely tightened the grip on my hips making me whimper.

“Don’t overdo it with the compliments, teddybear”, he whispered and my cheeks started to burn.

I’ve never heard him call me such a nickname other than idiot and dumbass, so hearing him call me teddybear made my heart race even more. He smirked at my reaction and softly let his finger run over my neck, intensifying the goosebumps all over my body.

“You like it when I call you that, don’t you…teddybear?”, he whispered right into my ear and I had to actively stop my body from shivering at his words.

He still must have noticed my reaction since he deeply chuckled and then softly kissed my neck. Another whimper accidently escaped my mouth, this time louder and he instantly stopped. My heart was almost beating out of my chest as he looked at my burning red cheeks.

“You can’t just let such a lewd sound escape those beautiful lips, teddybear”, he whispered against my lips and smirked.

“I can’t help it. You’re touch and kisses just feel way too good to be true, Katsuki”, I admitted and purposefully added his name to see if he was ok with me calling him by his name.

We usually didn’t call him that since Baku rolled off the tongue better, so he didn’t hear it that often. I watched his eyes widen and he grabbed one of my hands and placed it on his heart.

“You’re gonna give me a heart attack”, he said as I felt his heart literally hammer against his chest.

Just the thought of me making him react like that was boosting my self-esteem and confidence a lot. I leaned forward to kiss his nose.

“I won’t let that happen. I can’t lose you”, I whispered and quickly got pulled into a hug.

“Don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere”, he mumbled against my neck before squeezing me tight.

I smiled at him as I moved back out of the hug. The look on his face was soft, still with a slight tint of pink on his cheeks and his mouth formed into a little smile. Seeing him like this was so new but I could really get used to this side of him. He slowly grabbed my hands with his and intertwined our fingers before leaning his forehead against mine.

“You know I’m not good with feelings and expressing myself, but I will try to show you as best as I can what you mean to me. So please…will you be mine?”, he asked with such honesty in his voice that my heart stopped for a second.

“I’m already yours, Katsuki”, I whispered and placed another kiss on his soft lips.

[rogue-barnes-16]

THE MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE OF NATASHA ROMANOFF (part III/?)

Summary: after the too convenient disappearance of Natasha Romanoff, the Avengers —a local biker gang— search for help in the most unexpected place in order to get their friend back. Will it help, or will the situation just get more twisted and dangerous?

Pairing: biker!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Genre: angst-ish (biker gang au)

Tags:

The mysterious disappearance of Natasha Romanoff:

@shirukitsune @retrxbarnes

Permanent taglist:

@notexactlythatgirl @thisismysecrethappyplace @sofreakinmanyfandoms @pizzarollpatrol @bubblycypress87 @1a-girl-has-no-name1 @loislp @lovenaturefirst @dyanna-corona @2ptonpt @goodnightmode @disneyprincessbuffyannesummers @mannls @cutie1365 @catch22inareddress @mybooradley @sebastianisasnack @butifulsoul125 @unlikelygalaxygiver

Warnings: language, kinda angsty but not too much

A/N: third part of these because I think I'll go crazy if I stay in this kind of semi-hiatus any longer. Hope you enjoy my darlings <3.

The mysterious disappearance of Natasha Romanoff masterlist

Rogue-barnes-16 masterlist

BUCKY’S P. O. V.

Her hands were on the sides of my ribcage to provide her some balance while I was riding to the nearest diner.

It was an odd, though familiar feeling. The way her grip on my leather jacket briefly tightened when I took a turn, or the contact her the front of her legs made with the back of mines.

And I really really didn't want to stop driving, because I had missed that feeling, even if I wouldn't admit it out loud, even if I wanted to think I had moved on.

But I started to slow down the moment we reached the nearest diner's parking lot, and her hands left my jacket to hold herself steady using to the back of the bike.

As soon as the bike was parked, my feet reached the ground, still straddling the vehicle for us to be safe while taking off the helmet.

Once I had accomplished that task, I looked over my, slightly turning my torso to see if Y/n had done the same.

"Wow! okay" I chuckled while that magnetic girl I had just met in the bar —thanks to Carol— combed her recently messed hair with her fingers. "that was... Wild." her eyes were still widely open, but a half smile was now tugging the corner of her lip. "such a ride."

"first time riding a bike?"

"first time in bike with you" she replied, climbing off in a very surprisingly smooth way . "you really gotta slow down, I didn't even have helmet, boy."

I mimicked her movements and grabbed my things before approaching her. "well, I can fix that." we walked side by side to the bar. "I'll get you one."

"you seem pretty confident about me riding with you ever again."

"got a feeling you'll end up liking it" I replied with a smug smirk, opening the door of the establishment for her.

She shook her head no, peeking at me with a half smile tugging the corner of her lips. "Keep dreaming, Bucky."

"with you?" I questioned, following right behind her back into the bar, where both the gang and Carol waited for us. "Always."

"Cheesy."

READER'S P. O. V.

I let the helmet rest on my seat between my things while I combed my hair with my fingers. No matter how short or covered it was, with or without helmet, it always ended up tangled.

I had forgotten that minor inconvenience of riding a bike, specifically with the man I rode with.

"Ready?" he asked, holding the handlebars firmly. I gave him a lazy nod in response and proceeded to hop off the bike. "Let's go then." he walked side by side with me to the diner and when we reached the door, he opened it for me.

As soon as we sat down on the booth that was the furthest from the patrons of the place, the waiter came to take our order, which were just two black coffees, one of them iced.

Bucky waited until we had our coffees to speak, in order to avoid nosy ears, I figured. "It was two days ago." he started, swallowing the first sip of his coffee. "Nat had been keeping an eye on a guy for a while." I motioned for him to continue.

"Why would she do that?" I questioned with a frown. "Thought you were that type of gang, now were you?" I added with sarcasm.

"Wait a fucking second, will ya?" I motioned him to keep going with my hand. "the dude was following this girl." I tilted my head with confusion. "Stalking her."

"I got it the first time, James, I'm not that dumb." he muttered something under his breath, taking another sip of coffee. In reply, I just scoffed. "Why help that girl in particular?"

"We owed his brother a favor. Big one" he added, not quite focused on what he was saying. "Tasha's gonna scare him y'know? But turns out this guy wasn't a creep." he nursed his cup. "He's a rival gang member."

I opened my eyes widely, letting myself fall against the backrest of the booth. "Holy fuck." I always had assumed the Avengers were the only gang. Never in my time with them had I heard about a rival gang, I only knew that was dangerous shit.

Bucky’s blue eyes flickered to me, realizing too late that this was completely new information to me. "Yeah... I told Natasha to quit, we could protect this girl in other ways." he shook his head no. "she said she'll stay, just in case what was happening involved us."

"And then she dissappears." I sighed, massaging my temples, wondering what the fuck I was thinking when I decided I would help. "Bucky, I really don't see why I'm the only option."

"I-- listen." he lifted his gaze subtly to check no one was observing us. "I'm not supposed to be tellin' ya this."

"But you're gonna do it anyway."

He straight up ignored my comment as he mirrored my posture. "we have an inside problem."

"a something or a someone?" I was now definitely regretting the decision of going to my ex's house to lend a hand to his gang. "fuck, James, you better tell me it's a something and not a someone."

His sorry eyes and pursed lips killed my lame hope. "you want me to lie?"

"Yeah, for once I actually want you to lie." he clenched his jaw and diverted his eyes from me. "I went to your place and you have a fucking mole." Bucky’s gaze returned to me intently, shushing me. "don't fucking shush me" I retorted, internally freaking out. "I just put myself in danger 'cause I was stupid enough to decide to help."

"You're not in danger." he replied in low voice.

"okay now, you don't fucking know that."

"Whoever the problem is, they ain't there."

"Yeah sure." thousands of different scenarios that ended up with my corpse in a ditch went through my panicking mind as I stood up to walk away. "this was the worst fucking idea I've ever had." I mumbled under my breath, stepping out of the diner.

The fact that I didn't hear Bucky’s heavy combat boots after me in order to try and change my mind was surprising enough.

What was also surprising was finding another bike approaching the parking lot of the diner, and Clint almost jumping off it.

He took off his helmet way too fast for it to be safe before close to shouting my name. "Y/n!" For some reason, I stopped walking to wait for him to get to me. "Listen--"

"I'm out, Clint. I'm sorry." my apologies were genuine, because I knew how much Natasha meant to the dirty blonde man.

"No! Fuck- hold on for a second please." he begged, raising his hands in front of me to stop me. "I don't know what Barnes told you but--"

"Said that you got a mole inside."

"Fuckin'... Okay, I know you feel like your life is in danger if you help us but listen," his eyes spoke how desperate he was to get to his bestfriend on time. "Nat... You know I can't lose her and I swear if you help us, I'll protect you with my life okay? But please, Y/n... I'm sorry you got mixed into this but we- I really need you to help us."

I clenched my jaw, trying to meditate coolly about my reply to his beg.

I had put my feelings aside in order to think clearer, and that was one hell of a headache, given the people who were involved.

"Y/n please. Please, I swear on my fucking life I won't let anything bad happen to you." Clint assured me in a whisper. "please."

BUCKY'S P. O. V.

I stayed sat in the booth for a brief moment after Y/n had left.

I really didn't know what else I could do to convince her to help us. I didn't know how to make her believe me, to assure her that she wouldn't get hurt on my watch.

I didn't know how to get her to trust me if I promised to keep her safe at all costs, because once you break someone's trust —specially someone's like Y/n's— there was no going back 99% of the times.

"Fuck."

I rushed to the door, attempting to reach Y/n, because I had to convince her. I owed it to Natasha, to Clint, to Sam, to Steve; I owed it to myself, because I kept losing my grasp on Y/n, and in this situation, letting her leave wasn't an option anymore.

When I got out, both helmets in my hands, I saw Clint in front of Y/n, practically begging for her aid.

"Clint... I'm sorry. I really am..." she spoke. "I can't."

"Yeah, you can." she spun around at the same time as Clint's eyes laid on my form over the girl's shoulder. "you can, and you have to."

She was suddenly fuming. "what the hell did you just say?"

"Bucky shut the fuck up and stop making it worse." Clint warned me while Y/n took a couple of steps towards me.

"You have to." I repeated as confident as I could whilst my heart pounded in my chest. "You have to, that's why you came all the way from your fancy ass apartment in Manhattan." it was the fourth sort of conversation I had with the girl I hadn't talked in a year, and I had decided to push her buttons. "'cause no matter how you fucking hate me, y'know you won't be able to sleep at night—"

"Shut the fuck up, Bucky." Clint repeated, almost hysterical as I went on, my eyes locked with Y/n's in an attempt to make her know I meant every word.

"—if something happened to Natasha when, knowing you could've, you refused to help." Y/n pursed her lips, refusing to retort anything. "whether you like it or not, I know you Y/n, and I know you're not gonna leave."

It was the riskiest stunt I had pulled in a while, but after a dreadful instant of silence, I realized it had worked.

"You're so goddamn confident about it, aren't you?"

"I also know you're probably considering leaving, just to fucking prove me wrong."

Silence again, her eyes dug into mines as she closed the distance between the two of us to grab her helmet. "You're so full of yourself."

"I'm right, though." I couldn't help but retort with the lightest tinge of amusement in my tone.

"I'm riding with Clint."

[anima-contritum]

The Rush of Blood - part 1

A/N: heyo! so this is my first sort of major writing post on here and I didn’t completely edit all of it, so I’m hoping for the best I guess (I probs could’ve written more). I also wrote this for a friend of mine so make sure to check her out because she’s absolutely fantastic @scrabblesense (: enjoy!

Word Count: 1,925

Notes: This is a poly!hamilsquad x reader fanfic featuring the good ol’ gang au. disclaimer: the au doesn’t completely belong to me however all the ideas are truthfully mine. This is most likely going to be a series so buckle up and enjoy the ride.

T/W: mentions of past kidnap and torture, past abuse, violence, angst, and mentions on death. (if i missed necessary to note, let me know and I’ll add it)

Parts: 1 2

The atmosphere was riddled with a tension so thick you could choke on it. It seemed to blanket everything in the dark room with a sense of red hot outrage accompanied by undertones of blazing determination. Expressions were cold and devoid of emotions, the white-knuckled fists at each gang member’s side being the only telltale sign of disagreement. The silence that fell immediately after Angelica proposed her plan almost had a physical weight to it as it made your head pound and shoulders tense with each passing second. You would give anything to leave the suffocating room in that moment as anxiety bloomed in your chest.

Everyone told you before that your analytical skills were what made you the best at what you do, but right now you wished you could turn your brain off as the previous words bounced around in your skull. Thorough observations seemed to be all you were good for; You could remember license plates with just a glance, write out the police’s rotation schedules and usual stake-out spots, plan an escape route in a minute flat, determine someone’s motives and possible outcomes, even read a person’s expression and body language. Looking around at everyone in the small group, it was easy to pick out those opposed to the plan and who were supportive. As you took in each detail, your mind split things up piece by piece.

The way Alexander held his head high with his swirling brown eyes aflame with restrained wrath was like a bright neon sign that flashed in all caps ‘I THINK THE FUCK NOT.’ It was a threatening look to say the least.

Next to you John had a certain defiant set to his jaw that set as a pair for his defensive stance, his feet shuffling ever so slightly to be in front of both Alex and you. Knowing John, he’d either be the one throwing punches or holding back his boyfriends - and quite possibly his girlfriend - from doing something stupid.

Looking at Lafayette adjacent to Alexander, the french man looked more worried and panicky than anything else with his fingers fidgeting at his sides and his lips pursed in a tight line. His furrowed eyebrows created creases in his forehead and if you didn’t know him like you do, you would expect the man to start pacing across the battered wooden floor.

Hercules was a different story. Placed on the other side of you, his arms were crossed over his chest making his biceps more defined while his gaze was set at a deadly glare that sent shivers down your spine. In this moment, that wasn’t the Herc who knits you winter scarfs and wraps you in hugs this was Hercules Mulligan, the man who could easily snap a guy’s neck with little effort.

On the other side of the room with Angelica and her sisters, Maria stood lazily to the side. She was always the more reserved girl as she remained selectively mute but you still noted the sure set to her casual stance. Despite her hair falling over the eye patch on the left side of her face you could still see the agreement in her eye.

Eliza and Peggy stood at either side of Angelica with confident tilts of their lips and spark in their eyes. Of course, with all of your boyfriend’s burning eyes on the three sisters plus Maria you didn’t blame the wary shift in their eyes.

To the untrained eye, Angelica adorned a neutral expression but you saw the smugness on her lips and quirk to her perfectly shaped brows, the amusement dancing behind her dark eyes. She knew the plan would go through no matter what the other’s said. Excluding the risky premise, it was well thought out and ultimately beneficial to the group.

You - wedged between Hercules and John - stood stock still while your insides went crazy. Underlying anxiety twisted into your stomach like barbed wire while your conscious looked for a way out, an escape route. But the more your eyes scanned around every corner of the room, the faces of your boyfriends and the other girls, it was never clearer that this was something you couldn’t opt out of. No matter what your boyfriends said in protest to the plan, you knew it wouldn’t be reasonable to jettison the proposal.

“No,” Alexander was the first to speak, smashing the tense quiet like glass. His voice was laced with anger, his fists shaking at his sides as he went to step forward. If John hadn’t put out his arm to stop the utterly furious man, you bet Alex would’ve attempted to get in Angelica’s face - even if he’s several inches shorter than her. “If you think for one fucking second I’d let (Y/N) go out and risk her life for something as stupid as robbing a gas station, you are very mistaken.”

Angelica merely snorted a laugh with a small shake of her head, knocking a few curls loose from her tight bun. “Hamilton, you know as well as the rest of us just how necessary this operation is. If it hasn’t occurred to you yet, we’re in debt,” her amused tone turned cold and vile in a matter of seconds as her gaze flicked over Alex distastefully. “And if memory serves me right, it’s your fucking fault.”

You watched Alexander’s anger bubble up inside him as his lips pulled back in a vicious snarl. “What else was I supposed to fucking do when I was tortured and then held at gunpoint until I gave up the money?” A pang of heartbreak reverberated in your chest at the remembrance of what happened two months ago. You knew it still gave Alex nightmares, how he cried out in his sleep or the way he overworked himself. The damn fucking Redcoats kidnapped your boy and left him broken and scarred in a ditch to die after robbing your group of every last cent they owned. Now you’d be lucky to get a meal a day or a good sleep. Your boyfriends can only do so much to warm you during the frigid Autumn nights.

“Look, all I’m suggesting is (Y/N) monitor the place for a bit and when the gas station is about to close she goes in armed. She’ll be wearing a ski mask, a black hoodie, the whole damn ten yards. She’ll be able to anticipate worst case scenario and get out fast. She doesn’t have to kill anyone but Hercules and John will be around the back of the building as reinforcements if things go topside and you and Lafayette will be in the getaway car. Easy in, easy out.” Angelica restated the plan from earlier.

Hearing it again made bile rise in your throat, your heart racing and beating in your ribcage like a sledge-hammer. Your mouth felt dry and your hands shook as it seems the weight of the world sat heavily on your shoulders. Any words you planned to say died before they were even formed.

“And where will you be in all this?” John spat out. His face was red with fury making his freckles stand out. Looking over at him, he still had his arm stretched out across Alexander’s chest to restrain him.

As if waiting for the question to be asked, Peggy smiled smugly and gestured between her sisters and Maria. “We will be hijacking both the traffic and gas station security cameras.”

“Someone needs to hold down the fort in addition to being the main communication center. Peggy managed to boost the signal on our walkie-talkies. We have a good 5 miles or so until the connection gets fuzzy.” Eliza added with a fond smile for her little sister.

Despite the nerve racking situation, you couldn’t help but be impressed. Peggy had always been good with anything that could be considered electronic. If only she could fix the water heater…

Next to you, Hercules uncrossed his arms and turned his glare to Angelica. “I’m not letting her go in alone. If we’re doing this, I’m going in with her.” The low edge to his words made everyone able to hear it cast their eyes down excluding Angelica. Everyone knew, even outside your gang, just how dangerous Herc can be. Although only your group knew how his hard exterior was a mask to how kind his heart truly was, that tone in his voice always made them shy away. Growing up in an abusive household, Hercules learned it was better to put on a threatening act than to put up with other people’s shit. Even now after all these years, he only shows his soft side with you and his boys.

Hercules’ statement seemed to shock Lafayette out of his worrying as he stepped forward with confident radiating off of his stance. “I agree with mon cher. If we are to go through with this, I will be accompanying mon amour.”

“If I agree to that then I’m risking three members of this group being caught and arrested. I devised this plan so if things go wrong, only one of us gets locked up. Having you and Hercules go in with (Y/N) is completely unnecessary and naive when she can do the job better than any of us.” Angelica retorted.

You hated the way everyone talked about you like you weren’t there. It made the barbed wire in your guts wrap around your heart and cut deep.

In an instant, both Alexander and John lunged. If Hercules and Laf weren’t able to grab the two boys, they wouldn’t have hesitated to start a full blown fight. It wouldn’t be the first time Alexander fought Angelica. It made you jump in fear, your eyes widening as John struggled in Herc’s grip. Laurens was all but spitting poisoned words at Angelica with a daunting growl in his tone. “(Y/N) is not fucking dispensable you fucking bitch! What the fuck happens if the cops show up and she can’t get out in time? I’ll tell you what fucking happens. They either shoot and kill her because she has a fucking gun or they arrest her for life for multiple shitty charges. What happens if the cashier has a gun? What happens if a customer decides to play hero and attack the robber? What happens-”

“ENOUGH!”

Your voice came up above John’s and any other possible argument Angelica had on her mind as silence encased the room. Tears had started streaking down your cheeks no matter how hard you tried to stop it. They leave wet tracks as they go unwiped making your cheeks shine in the dim light of the room. All eyes turned to you, Lafayette letting go of Alexander as the once raging bull turned sombre seeing your tears. Everything threatened to put you in a choke hold and drown your words like before, but this time you had to push through this. You had to push through the nauseating nervousness in your stomach and the way it felt like your heart jumped into your throat.

You just had to push through it like you always have.

Turning to give Angelica your full attention, your voice came out shaky but certain. “I’ll do it… I don’t need Herc or Laf with me, I just need the supplies you listed before. It’ll be a quick in and out, no cops, no killing. If things go wrong, I-...” A watery laugh broke through your lips before you could stop it. “Then I’ll go down swingin’.”

[dawnover-dusk]

Starling { Seungcheol } (4)

genre: crime!au, mystery

word count: 1,807

summary: when monsters from 5 years past come back to play

warning: death, blood, if you can’t watch crime dramas do not read

< previous       next > 

“Okay, let’s regroup,” Seungcheol said, pacing in front of the large conference room. The detectives sitting around the round table had their tablets out along with paper copies of the case findings. The large board at the front of the room now had a map of where victims had been found, along with photographs of the crime scenes.

With a tiny raise of your hand, you asked from the back of the room, “Why am I here?” 

“We’ve found two bodies in the past 72 hours, three if you count Kwon’s hand in the river. Clearly this person is escalating, so we need as much insight as we can get. Besides,” Seungcheol paused with a toothy grin, “I think a lot clearer when you’re here.”

The other detectives in the room – your friends, you begrudgingly reminded yourself as you instantly thought of where their major arteries were located – all began to snicker while you hid your face with your hands to hide your flushing cheeks.

“Anyway,” Seungcheol moved on, “We found this young man at a cemetery, and now, another man was found at a park along the river. All personal belongings intact, but no cellphones. Deaths are crossing age lines and racial lines, so there has to be something about these two men that would cause this killer to fixate on them.” 

“The first victim was killed a month ago, the second, 2 weeks ago. Mechanism of death was an overdose of fentanyl administered intravenously via the neck. Both victims were stabbed post-mortem, no defensive wounds. The amount of blood at the discovery sites suggest that the murders took place at the sites,” you contributed. 

“Fentanyl is basically super heroin,” Seungcheol interjected. “I’ll get Seokmin from Narcotics to trace the source. Jeonghan did you get anything from the families?” 

“Apparently both these men were at the prime of their lives. One was accepted to grad school with a full-ride, and the other opened up a new business in the neighborhood. These local newspapers actually ran articles about it. The only other thing in common was that they both had younger sisters.”

Jun passed around a stack of his own notes to the rest of the detectives. “Okay, we know that Starling 2.0 has been living in Kwon’s shadow, and the only things being kept from his crimes are the starling motif and the fentanyl overdoses. Kwon used the starling because it’s a black bird with luminescent feathers, so beauty in darkness or death and all that. He used overdoses because the bodies would be kept intact and were meant to be displayed next to his art. This person, though, is probably using the starling due to its reputation. They probably feel unwanted and like they had to conform to other people’s standards, like Kwon’s. These deaths are not about art; there’s too much emotion and rage towards these men. They’re probably serving as surrogates for an older, successful male figure.”

“If they were killed at the discovery sites, then these men would have to be lured there somehow. The killer would have to appear nonthreatening, and if they’re using lethal injections before stabbing, they might not have the physical strength to incapacitate these men in any other way,” Joshua added. 

“The sister of the first victim told us something strange. She got texts the night that he went missing saying that he was going to pick her up, and that he was disappointed that she got so drunk. She claims that she was at home all night, and the parents confirmed,” Jeonghan said.

Jun gasped. “That could be the ruse – ‘Hi, I’m a friend of your sister’s, and we need a bit of help. Can you pick us up?’ – but the fact that the killer knows about the sibling relationship and took advantage of it…” The psychologist went silent as he lightly slapped his forehead with his hand.

“What is it?” Seungcheol prodded.

“A successful, older brother as a surrogate – the killer identifies with the younger sister. Starling 2.0 is female.”

“I swear, they all have family issues, the whole lot of them,” Seungcheol whined in your ear. You giggled when you felt him bury his face into your neck, his grip on your waist pressing you further into his body. After dismissing the group of detectives to wrap up any additional loose ends, you and Seungcheol were back in his corner office, leaning against the back of his door. 

“Well,” you began, a hand running comfortingly through his black locks, “if we start a family, at least we’ll have a lengthy ‘how-to’ guide on not raising serial killers ingrained in our brains.”

Seungcheol’s head shot up and his dark eyes searched yours. His long eyelashes and his wide grin framed by cherry lips wiped away the exhaustion and terror which were written into every line and wrinkle on his face, making him seem almost boyish in appearance. His hands traveled from their place on your waist to cup your cheeks. “A family?” he whispered, tentatively, reverently. 

Your intention of emphasizing the word “if” was forgotten when you felt his warm lips on yours, slightly chapped from the cold yet still delicate and utterly breathtaking. Eyelashes fluttered on your cheekbones and you grounded yourself by gripping on the sleeves of his jacket, afraid that the warmth spreading throughout your chest and your pounding heart would be too dizzying for you to remain standing. Being with Seungcheol had always felt like that: a safe place to land when you flew about chasing monsters and death every single day. His arms were a fortress which shielded you from the world, and in them, you felt innocent again, reminded that there were still good people when you were confronted with the worst things that humans could do.

At the back of your mind, you wondered how he could still make your heart ache like a teenager in high school with a crush, even after five years.

The sound of a throat clearing broke the connection that you two shared. Your gaze was unfocused and glassy as you were still slightly out of breath and flustered, but Seungcheol was craning over your shoulder to see a sheepish, bespectacled detective sitting at the desk.

You quickly sprang away from Seungcheol and crossed over to the other side of the room when you realized that you had company. Seungcheol sulkily pouted as you slipped out of his arms and he turned fully to face Wonwoo. “This better be important,” he deadpanned. 

The detective from the crime scene unit grinned, his entire face scrunching with mischievous merriment. “Hey, I’m not the one making out while I’m still on the clock.” 

“That’s not what the pretty detective from the ballistics lab told me last week,” you bit back. Seungcheol pumped his fist in the air in a mock gesture of victory while Wonwoo’s face fell in embarrassment. He cleared his throat again and held up two evidence bags, each with a painting of a starling on canvas.

“Anyway, back to the whole ‘scary-serial-killer-on-the-loose’ situation. I thought it was strange how these paintings are on canvas because they’ve always been on a wall somewhere, so I took the opportunity to play with these new toys that we use to detect art forgery. I ran these two paintings through UV and infrared analysis, and this is what was covered up by the paint.”

Wonwoo pulled up two images on Seungcheol’s computer. Each image depicted several lines of letters and geometric shapes, grouped together like words yet complete gibberish. Wonwoo looked at the pair of you excitedly before bursting out, “It’s a cryptogram! Finally, a killer who gave me something fun.” 

You ruffled Wonwoo’s head good-naturedly as he straightened his round, wire-framed glasses perched on his tall nose. “You might want to tone it down lest people get the wrong idea. But this is really good work, Wonwoo.”

Wonwoo mumbled about you sounding like the person from ballistics before Seungcheol ushered him up and towards the door. “Go forth and decode, you big nerd,” he teased.

Before Wonwoo exited the office, he turned to the pair of you with a serious expression on his face. “I was thinking that she – our killer – started painting on canvas because she wants us to find this code, but the more she leaves behind, the closer we are to catching her. Maybe this is just part of her game, but if she wants to be caught, then there has to be a bigger end goal that we’re missing.” He took a short pause and stared at Seungcheol. “Stay safe,” the younger detective breathed out, and left.

Seungcheol smiled feebly at the empty space which Wonwoo had occupied before he was pulled out of his memories by your phone’s ringing. You quickly finished the call and walked towards the door as well with Seungcheol on your heels. 

“That was Mingyu. I have to finalize the death certificates and the autopsy reports back at the morgue. You know, I’m really glad that he’s here to pick up after me while I’m off playing detective,” you joked, making eye contact with Seungcheol.

“First name basis?” Seungcheol questioned with an eyebrow raised.

“Hell, he’s not even a week into his fellowship and he’s holding his own on a hushed-up serial killer investigation. He’s got me on his team. But I’d never say it to his face, of course.”

“Of course,” Seungcheol echoed and chastely kissed you at the door. Your phone buzzed again in your pocket and you pulled away to check the new notification.

Your eyes widened as they roamed over the text on your screen. Your chest tightened and your heart beat quickened to hammer uncomfortably against your ribcage as your mind began to attach meaning to the words by drowning you with the memories of five years past. You could hear Seungcheol call you worriedly as the room around you began to lose focus, and you quickly crouched down with your back against the door to stave off the dizziness, dropping your phone in the process. 

You didn’t even know you were crying until you felt rough thumbs swiping at your cheeks. On your descent downwards, Seungcheol had retrieved your phone and looked at the message which had made you crack. He quietly muted and pocketed the device before crouching in front of your trembling form. His jaw clenched involuntarily but he tried to smile reassuringly at you, his arms wrapping around your figure until you were almost brought onto his lap. “I trust you,” he whispered until your breathing began to even out, “I trust you with my life.”

In Seungcheol’s pocket, your phone had lit up with another message.

GRIM REAPER, YOUR FINAL APPOINTMENT IS WITH SOMEONE YOU’RE TOO INVOLVED WITH 

BUT DON’T WORRY, I’LL DO YOUR JOB FOR YOU