#im so frightened and either way i turn its bad

[nmakii]

Hi! I'm not the one that requested no one is better than I am.... BUT I loved it so much! I was wondering if you could make a part two say maybe the person we ran away with turns out to be abuse or something like that and we're kinda like 'I fucked up' and realize maybe running wasn't such a good idea.... Anyway you can add your own little twist and you can ignore this if you wish <3

- rose anon 🌹

AND I KNEW YOU’D COME BACK TO ME.

— this relationship wasn’t meant to last long. all is forgiven though. alastor will forgive you.

— tangled reimagined 😮‍💨 didnt even realize it until i finished writing HAHAHAHAHA

a month later, the honeymoon period had died out. to be fair, you hadn’t exactly made a plan…crashing at a motel on the edge of mississippi, not exactly what you had in mind.

living off the scraps of what you took, pawning off your belongings. oh, this was not ideal at all. and, how your lover got when he was angry; he’d bruise your arm from gripping way too tightly whenever you didn’t get enough money. how you started to miss alastor, it’s true what they say— you don’t know what you have until it’s gone.

if you were able to run once, perhaps you could just one more time? he is not as smart as alastor, you should be able to get away easily in the night.

yes, you should. after trading away many of your items, all you have left is but a satchel worth of dresses. new orleans is not particularly far with a car either.

and so, a familiar memory of running away at the dead of night. only now, it is you returning to alastor, just like he knew you would.

when you returned home, it was 2 AM. the house was just as it was when you left, albeit quite dusty now without your care.

you dropped your satchel on the dining table, just as you left it. it’s almost as if your home was abandoned when you left.

in the bedroom, your husband, sleeping peacefully— an arm clinging to your side of the bed, as if holding onto what little scent of you there was left.

when you opened the bathroom door, a silk nightgown was hung, simply waiting to be worn.

after you had changed, you sat back on your bed, the familiar smell of home coming back to you. as you laid in bed, you found yourself facing alastor.

your hands moved to bring him closer, the warm touch waking him scarily quick. “my love, you’ve returned.” he smiled, bringing you close.

your muscles tensed at the pet name, frightening reminders of the last month coming back. “hey, calm down, dear. i’m not mad.” he reassured you, awfully calmly at that. “running away; it was a mistake, wasn’t it?”

you nodded as you relaxed under his touch. “he was awful… im sorry, alastor…” you frowned. “oh, darling, i told you, didn’t i? no matter, all is forgiven.” he cooed, brushing your hair gently with his nimble fingers. “i’ll protect you from all that is bad in this world. no evil will meet you as long as i live. all i ask… is that you stay here, with me, forever— take care of our house, cook dinner, and perhaps even care for our little ones in the future?” he rambled on, a wide smile upon his face as he thinks of your future together. “ah, i’m rambling, we can discuss that in the future. in the meantime, could you do that, dear?” he asked, offering it to you as if you had a choice.

you nodded, not even looking at alastor. “good. i love you very much, don’t you know that, my dear? all i want is for you to be safe.” he told you. “…i” you started, thinking carefully of your words. “i love you too, alastor…” you said.

did you truly love him? of course you did. he took you back after you betrayed his trust, he’s a wonderful husband.

the moment the words fell from your sweet lips, a wide smile found its way onto alastor’s face. a kiss pressed upon your forehead.

his little doe finally returned his affections. it’s only a shame of his that he had to hurt your delicate heart first.

why would a single man be in a luxury store? oh, words cannot describe how thankful alastor is for your foolish naivety.

word on the street, that eugene was quite the heartbreaker. not to mention, that criminal record of his.

convincing him to go through with it wasn’t hard either. seeing a new toy that knows nothing of his record, he was more than eager to play with you. all it took was a bit of cash for him to keep up the sweetheart act.

and now that his doe was home, there’s no use for trash like that man in this world. the bruises on your arm, they were not what was intended.

all he asked was a simple grab, but it seems he got carried away, that piece of garbage.

as alastor forcefully swallowed his anger, he held you close, massaging the bruises on your wrist. “rest well, darling. you’ve been through a lot this past month.” he cooed, slowly lulling you to sleep.

oh, how excited he is that his little doe is home. to celebrate, we need a special meal, don’t we? say, there is a rare meat that alastor has been dying to try.

[hobies-princealbert]

Head Empty. Thinking about high!plug!fontaine n high!reader. He’d def be the plug that flirts with her and gives her deals and one day he asks her to smoke wit him for free and they just start making out in his car listening to music. 😱😱😱

gurl the new pfp frightened me a bit ngl 💀💀

but coming right up! i took some creative liberties cuz i kinda forgot to double check what your ask said. im srry its just once i got that ball rolling, i couldn't stoppp ( ´,_ゝ`)

plug! fontaine x high! reader | (the nsfw is below the cutting off)

▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎♤▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎♤▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎♤▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎♤▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎♤▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎♤▪︎▪︎

♤ taine wasn't exactly your first choice for a plug. he was a well known dealer in the glen, but the things he was known for made you hesitant. he was a no nonsense type dealer, he gives a price, you pay on time. if you can't do as simple as that then you wasting his time. and knowing you were tight on money sometimes, you decided it best to stick to the plugs you knew.

♤ but twelve wack ass joints later, you found yourself sitting in a certain green cadillac that you never thought you'd set foot in. both of you sat in silence for a few seconds, only a few feet away from each other.

♤ you patiently watched as he tried to light his spliff with the faulty lighter. growing more frustrated, he soon tossed the lighter onto the dash, then turned to you expectantly. and as if you could read his mind, you pulled your lighter and held it up for him to take.

♤ he stared at you for a bit, you felt as if you body was on fire. he had a pair of the scariest eyes you've ever seen. and he kept those eyes on you the entire time. not once looking away.

♤ you felt him wrap around your wrists. he pulled your hands closer to his face. your entire body became solid rock. all you could hear was your heart beating in your ears. the grip on your wrists were slack, giving you enough leeway to pull back if you wanted to. but something about the way he looked at you, made you stay still for him.

♤ he motioned for you to light the joint. you obliged. the orange glow of the flame made his eyes even more sinister. god he's terrifying. hot but, terrifyingly hot. once it was lit, he leaned back and let your wrist fall from his grasp. he took two puffs before he passed it over. " 'ere. take it. ' tell me if 'sgood enough."

♤ your breath was shaky as you inhaled the smoke. it was strong, definitely would get you fucked up in less than a minute. you handed it back to him. "you barely took tha' shi'. come 'ere."

♤ he placed the blunt back between his lips, as he settles one of his hands behind your head. "was he gonna gimme a shotgun right now. he's not....is he?" you let your brain rambled for bit till a low "open" brought you back.

♤ taine never does this, especially with cilents. but he took an interest in you. you seemed nervous, unlike most of his clients that just want their quick fix. and it helps that you weren't bad looking either. kinda cute in fact.

♤ but that didn't mean he wasn't fed up from watching your pretty little lips not taking his blunt properly. that shit ain't cheap. but you took the shot gun gave you pretty well. he saw how the smoke made your eyes a little teary, so he wiped a couple away before he let you go.

♤ you stared at him for a bit. he found you amusing that's for sure. and while he was trying to subside a smirk, you were trying to calm the ache between your legs. god you needed to get out this car before you did something you regret. but would you regret it? from the way his pants seemed to be stiffening, he probably felt the same way.

♤ reaching into his jacket he pulled a small plastic baggy,,that looked to contain at least 5 grams. your eyes went wide. this was way more than the agreed amount, that's at least $45 bucks, you didn't have that much on you. shit shit shit.

♤ "easy ma, this one's on the house" and with that you became one of his regulars. and his favorite at that.

♤ of course you became his favorite. i mean he'd never let a customer come over his house. much less one sit on his couch, smoke his blunt and watch a show on his tv.

♤ he certainly wouldn't let a customer stretch their legs across his lap either. or let one inch closer to him than appropriate, to the point where they made it onto his lap. he didnt mind, it definitely did help him relieve the ache between his legs. and he wasn't opposed to the way you let him kiss alongside your jaw, and even suck a couple marks into your skin.

♤ no regular of his ever let him pull down their shorts and toss them to god knows where. he's never gotten on his knees and licked a fat stripe along over their panties. never has he had to pull said panties to the side just so he could finally get a good look at how at your cunt.

♤ you were the only one who's clit he's mouthed at till his jaw ached. he didn't stop till he had to wrap his hands around your hips to hold you still.

♤ never once as taine let a regular, eagerly lick his precum from the slit to the point where he'd lull his head back everytime he felt their tongue dip into his slit. or had one force his cock into their mouth till the tip hit the back of their throat. and they stayed deepthroating him till he finally released. or had one lick up every last drop of cum that could find. no matter if it some was on his stomach, chest, thigh or on their face. he's never given a regular a couple puffs of his joint as a reward for sucking him to completion.

♤ he wondered if his weed made you like this. was it so good that it made you do your best to take him to the hilt, even though you could barely take a proper breath. probably it was the reason he'd take a minute or two cause the way your walls squeezed him, he swore he was gonna cum inside you right then and there.

♤ was his shit so good that it made you cry out his name and claw at his back with every thrust. had him having to slap your tits whenever you looked too far gone. make him tell you to how good you were, or that from the way your walls started to push him out, you were close. make him coo at you whenever you finally came, so you knew how proud he was. maybe it was why you bared the overwhelming sensation that your release brought so he could reach his edge. maybe that what made you mumbled about him cumming inside you.

♤ tempting but he preferred to release on your cunt so you could reach your hand down and desperately collect his droplets into your mouth. god he loved when you did that. he especially when you parted your slit so he could get one last lick before he let you suck it off his tongue.

♤ never had he had a regular make him feel that good to the point he gave them free weed.

[0rah-s]

Content : teeth-rooting fluff, gn reader, normal au, use of pet name: dear, dove, angle

(im so sorry, english isn't my first language *cries*)

Kazuha loved his life as a wanderer, but when he met you he discovered a new found comfort in the little domestic acts of his everyday life with you.

Yesterday you both watched a Christmas horror movie (a recent invention from fontain), and although he felt bad for the way you were shivering in fear, his heart fluttered as your warm arm embraces his seeking comfort.(maybe your frightened face was worth it if he gets to be so close to you, I hope you can forgive him! ).

On this snow white day, you were both putting up Christmas decoration around the house, the glimmers of each orb and light lit up your eyes making the moment even more magical. You had just finished to put on the light on the tree, the only thing missing now was the star. But since the tree was quite tall you couldn't reach it.

"Kazuha dear?" You turned your figure toward your boyfriend that was just done putting the ginger bread in the oven, "yes dove?"

"I can't reach the top, can you help me?" As anyone else would have, you had expected him to go fetch a stool or use his anemo vision. As he made his way up to you, your cheeks couldn't help but heat up -he was just so perfect. Your eyes focused on his tender ones then moved to his shoulders, then his snow white hair bouncing up and down as he walks up to you. You cannot count how many people would kill to have him! But even if he had the whole world under his feet, he would still have eyes only for you. How in all of teyvat have you managed to find a man like that?

His calloused hand brushing yours pulled you out of your trance; they were so warm, and above all- they felt like home.

"Y/n?" He asks as he tilts his head and smile in a way that makes your stomach churl.

"Yes!" You jolt flustered. He chuclkles in response. Sigh. His laugh, it made you melt like chocolate. But ah! Concentrate!

You tried to give him the star but he pushed it back in your hand. You looked at him in confusion which made him laugh some more. Before you had the time to ask about his odd doing, he gingerly placed his hands on your waist and spun you around to face the tree. If being flustered could kill, this would have done it, you would be 6 feet under by now. He lifts you up effortlessly so that you are face to face with the very tip of the tree but then.. you blanked... All of this happened so slowly yet so fast?? After what seemed like an eternity of precessing your emotions, you hear his sweet voice once again.

"Is everything alright, angel?" Snapped out of your train of thought for a secound time now, you hurriedly put the star on trying not to make any of the already placed decoration fall. He lifted you up and placed you down so effortlessly you were left speechless. Was it due to his sword training? Or perhaps his life in the wild? Either way no matter what you weighed, be certain that he could carry you just as easily. When you feet finally meet the ground, you were left in awe.

Even on the ground his hands never left your waist, he turned you around once more to face you. You could have sworn the world outside you had stopped: you couldn't hear the birds singing anymore nor could you hear the neighbour's christmas chant. The snow also seemed to fall much slower. You're falling in love with him all over again.

In a slow and gentle manner kazuha's hand left you waist and found its way all the way to you cheek.

"May i ?" He said with his ussual calm voice (however you did not fail to notice his rosy cheeks)How could you possibly refuse? You gave him the warmest smile you could make out as a yes, you closed your eyes as he leaned in.

The kissed wasn't sensual or aggressive in anyway. No one was fighting for dominace nor was there an excessive amount of tounge. It felt like a ballad, his lips serenaded and his breathing enchanted you. Pure and intimate.

To both of your dismay, you had to part for air. Kazuha's loving gaze never faltered and you were left more enamoured with him than you thought was possible.

The rest of the evening was mostly silent but just as loving. At the very end of the night, as he put you to bed (exhausted from the multiple celebration out with your mutual friends) your tired ears could make out a gentle:

"Sweet dreams my dear, and merry Christmas."

@sinhasfluffyheadfur

@2022gisecretsanta

[juless27]

It Was Divine Chapter Five

i can't remember how i formatted these and im too lazy to find an old one so im gonna wing it

Read on AO3

She knew Slasher Saturday/Horror Film Friday was a bad idea, but Nancy Wheeler is nothing if not fearless. She could have done a serial killer, or a ghost, or even a demon, but Robin had chosen a monster movie. Robin had never seen a demogorgon, probably hadn’t even thought about it. Nancy hadn’t herself until the suspenseful music started up. Then its jaws opened and it ate the cheerleader in a shower of blood and Nancy found herself reaching to either side of her, looking for something to hold onto. Her right hand found a cushion and she hugged it to her, her left hand found Robin’s wrist, which she held tight enough to leave a mark. 

Robin pulled her arm back, and Nancy loosened her grip, expecting Robin to pull away completely, already ready for the sickening disappointment of it, the inevitability of having to be her own comfort. But she didn’t. Robin just moved until her hand was in Nancy’s and she held on tight, lacing their fingers together. Nancy kept her gaze on the tv, carefully observing Robin in her peripheral vision. Robin’s lips were pressed tightly together, her whole body taught. Nancy exhaled slowly. She was just frightened by the movie. 

Twenty minutes later, Nancy found herself pressed up against Robin’s side, finding way too much comfort in her body heat, their hands still linked, repeating it’s just a movie, it’s just a movie to herself. Robin puts her lips next to Nancy’s ear and she’s embarrassed when she jumps.

“Want me to turn it off?”

Nancy swallows, “No, it’s fine.”

“Seriously, I don’t mind. I’ll tell the guys it’s too scary for me.”

Nancy shook her head. She needed to conquer this like she did everything else. Her fear was just another mountain for her to climb, another cork board with too many red strings. 

“No, I’m okay. I want to watch it.”

Robin looked skeptical, but she nodded. She hesitated, and Nancy saw the indecision in her face before she let go of Nancy’s hand and shifted closer, wrapping her arm around Nancy’s shoulders. She pulled Nancy in, tucking her against her side. Nancy immediately relaxed into her, soothed by the sweet scent of honey that clung to the other girl. 

“Is this okay?” Nancy could feel Robin’s mouth move against her hair. She nodded. 

The movie went on and Nancy wasn’t as scared anymore. And if she tucked her face into Robin’s neck for one or two of the jump scares, who was to say? One of Robin’s hands came up to play with her hair, the way that Robin was always fidgeting with something, and Nancy knew she could fill entire journals on the way that made her feel. 

She glanced over at Steve, guilty for only remembering now to check on him, but he was pressed up against Eddie in the same way she was with Robin. His eyes were glued to the screen even as his face was hidden by Eddie’s shoulder. Eddie’s arm was around him, his other hand holding Steve’s. Nancy’s mind was immediately occupied by the new puzzle of their intimacy. Eddie caught her staring and winked. Nancy glanced away, cheeks reddening.

The movie ended, the final protagonist saving the damsel in distress and living happily ever after to have six kids and an RV or some other such bullshit. (Steve and her had since talked about the RV/I’m still in love with you speech and had both agreed that it was the emotions of the moment rather than a long standing sentiment). Robin got up, letting go of Nancy to change the tape. Nancy didn’t think she could do another horror movie, but she didn’t have to say anything. Robin put on Footloose. With a worried glance at Steve that Nancy did not miss, she took her place back between him and Nancy. Her hand resumed its place in Nancy’s hair and Nancy leaned back into her, grateful she didn’t have to give this up just yet.

They all jumped when the phone rang. 

“I’ll get it,” Robin volunteered, and jumped off the couch to answer it. They let Footloose play as they all watched her pick up the receiver and answer with a, “Hello, this is your conscious, what are the little voices in your head telling you today?”

Eddie laughed at that and Steve shook his head, “I keep telling her to stop doing that.”

Nancy tilted her head, “One time I called and she answered with ‘Robin’s roadside cafe, you kill it, we grill it.’”

“I gotta start doing that,” Eddie said.

“Nooo,” Steve groaned, “Not you too.”

“Woah, woah, Mayfield, slow down,” Robin turned to them, wrapping the phone cord around one finger, “An emergency, you say?” Steve immediately sat up. Nancy would think it was embarrassing how much he acted like the kids’ mother if she didn’t know how much most of them needed it. 

“You are in dire need of quarters to beat Dustin’s new high score on Dig Dug, you say?”

Steve sighed and relaxed, “These kids are gonna be the death of me.” “Yeah, yeah, we’ll be right there… Ok, ok…. Yes... No, we are not picking up slushies for you. .. Why? Because we are not your personal food delivery people. … Well, I also wish Steve had answered the phone… Ok, I love you, goodbye.”

She hung up, “Well, who’s up for a trip to the arcade?”

Steve drove. Robin thanked her lucky stars she didn’t have to clutch her stomach through another drive with Eddie behind the wheel. Eddie immediately called shotgun, but Robin bolted past him. He chased her down and tackled her, the two of them rolling across the lawn like puppies before scrambling to their feet to race again. Robin let him win, mostly because she realized halfway through that she could sit with Nancy in the back if she did. Maybe, if Robin was brave enough, Nancy would let her hold her hand. No, nevermind. That was just because she was scared of the movie. 

The drive to the arcade was quiet, all four of them unusually deep in thought. Robin let her hand rest on the seat between her and Nancy. Nancy just stared out the window. She tried not to be too disappointed by that, and made a mental note to check on the other girl the next time they were alone. 

“Hey, looks like the Byers are here,” Steve pointed out as he made a blinkerless turn into the arcade parking lot. 

Sure enough, they spotted Joyce, Jonathan, and Hopper once inside, as well as Jonathan’s weird Californian friend Argyle. Robin liked him. He always smelled like weed and she could never tell if he was high or just like that. Plus, he made her laugh.

Steve greeted Jonathan with a, “Byers!” and Nancy offered him an awkward-post-breakup smile and wave. He waved back, just as awkward. 

“Hi,” Robin said, “I’m Robin.”

Joyce smiled warmly, “We know, honey. Will’s told us all about you.”

“He has?” 

She nodded. Robin couldn’t hold back her smile. Will was a quiet kid, but he reminded her of herself when she was that age, so she always made an effort to reach out to him when they were in a group. 

“Robin! Robin, Robin, Robin!” Robin was then assaulted by 5 feet of a red headed skater. 

“Whoa, kid, slow down,” she said, steadying Max and laughing. 

Max held out her hand, “Quarters.”

“Well, a hello would be nice,” Robin grumbled, but she stuck her hand in her (technically Steve’s) jacket pocket to root around for stray coins. She deposited her findings into Max’s waiting hand. She immediately turned to Steve, “Harrington?”

“What?” he sputtered, “I’ve already made my contribution! Those are my quarters Robin gave you. Not to mention, I drove them here.”

Max just rolled her eyes and motioned to her open hand. Steve emptied his pockets. 

Robin laughed, glancing at Nancy, wanting to check she hadn’t been swallowed by the awkwardness between her and Jonathan. El came up to Hopper, asking in a much more polite way than Max, for some quarters. 

“Sorry, kid, you’ve bled me dry,” Hopper responded, looking genuinely sorry about it. 

“Here, El,” Nancy held out her hand, dropping some coins into El’s cupped palms. She looked back at Nancy with eyes so admiring Robin wanted to wrap her up like a baby bird. What a strange thought to have about someone you saw throw a car with their mind.

Without a goodbye, Max grabbed El’s hand and led her back into the maze of machines and dorky preteens. 

“Well, since we are here,” Steve said, “Who wants to partake in the great tradition of skee ball?”

“Absolutely not.” Nancy responded immediately. 

“What?” Steve teased, “I seem to remember you dominating at skee ball.”

“Yeah, and you never turn down a chance to win,” Jonathan added. 

“Is this how it’s gonna be now?” Nancy asked, “And anyway, I said no because I very much want to avoid any situation in which Robin has a weighted ball in her hand.”

“Yeah, that’s probably wise,” Robin admitted. 

Argyle made a slow humming-thinking noise, “Those things sure aren’t made out of rubber.” 

They all looked at him in complete confusion except Jonathan, who just sighed and agreed. 

“Wonder how much it’d hurt to get shmacked by one of those.”

“Shmacked?” Nancy asked. 

“Don’t even ask,” Jonathan said, “You don’t want to know.” Robin didn’t miss his glance towards El. 

“Alright, so no skee ball,” Steve conceded, “But I am not standing around here for another hour until they all inevitably need rides home.” 

Eddie turned towards them all slowly, a light in his eyes that truly, honestly scared Robin. 

“Who wants to go on an adventure?”

It took the longest to convince Nancy, but eventually they all agreed. Steve told Max and Dustin that he would be back for them, and anyone else who needed a ride, in about an hour. He waved at Joyce and Hopper as he passed them on his way out, Hopper nodded in return and Joyce waved back with a look on her face that was somehow happy and sad at the same time. 

He met the rest of the group outside, taking a moment to reconcile Robin and Eddie standing next to Nancy and Jonathan and Jonathan’s friend Argyle standing behind them, head tipped back and eyes at the sky. 

Steve gestured to Argyle, “What’s he doing?”

Jonathan glanced at Argyle and then back at Steve, “Who knows? He’s high as fuck.”

“Well, I want some of whatever he’s on,” Eddie said. 

“Purple palm tree delight, my friend,” Argyle chimed in, eyes still on the sky. 

“Ah, my friends,” Eddie stepped backward toward Argyle and threw a friendly arm over his shoulders, “I know what kind of adventure we are going on.”

“Someone needs to stay sober to drive,” Robin pointed out, “Who’s gonna be sober sister?” Nancy snorted, “Sober sister?”

“It’s, like, a sorority girl thing,” Robin said. 

“Yeah, I know,” Nancy said, eyes sparkling like she was laughing, “And, anyway, I’ll do it. Weed gives me panic attacks.”

Eddie looked at her in horror, “Damn, Wheeler, that sucks.”

Nancy shrugged. 

“Actually,” Steve said slowly, “I’m not sure I’m gonna participate either.”

Robin met his eyes, knowing exactly what he was thinking. Who do you work for? Long hallways, big elevator, Back to the Future, bathroom. Robin. Oh. Yeah, oh. Steve hadn’t exactly stayed sober since that night, but he also didn’t experiment with anything he hadn’t already tried before. Alcohol was fine, he knew his limits. Weed usually was, too. But Purple Palm Tree Delight from a guy he had barely known for two weeks? A guy who was currently trying to drink the sky through a bendy straw like it was a milkshake? Yeah, no. 

He had a silent conversation with Robin about it. 

You okay?

Yeah. 

Want to leave?

No. You gonna smoke?

Maybe. 

Do it if you want to. I’ll take care of you. 

I know. 

“Okay, what just happened?”

Steve looked away from Robin and focused on Jonathan. “What do you mean?”

“That,” he said, gesturing between him and Robin. Steve got ready for the Platonic with a capital P speech. 

“You just, like, had a whole conversation,” Jonathan continued. 

“Oh, yeah,” Nancy said, “They do that. You get used to it.” She shrugged. 

“Are you guys telepathic or something?”

“Nah,” Steve said, “Just really good friends.”

“Best friends, some would say,” Robin said, clasping her hands behind her back and rolling up on her toes. 

“Some,” Steve agreed. 

“C’mon, Steve, how many times do I have to say it? I’m sorry I told Eddie and then I didn’t tell you that I told Eddie.”

Argyle laughed a little, “What?”

“It’s too late, Robin. I’ve already filled the best friend position,” He swung an arm loosely around Nancy’s shoulders. 

Nancy glanced up at him and for just a second it was so familiar it knocked the air out of him. Sixteen year old Nancy looked at him from under his arm with those big eyes and then he blinked and present Nancy was there again. 

“You can have more than one best friend, you know,” she said. 

Steve did not miss the smile that bloomed on Robin’s face. He looked between her and Nancy. Once. Twice. 

Then he locked eyes with Robin. He saw the moment she realized he knew. Saw the surprise and then the fear that entered her eyes. 

“Are you..?” He asked, out loud. 

“No!” Robin protested immediately. 

Steve raised his eyebrows.

“Okay, maybe,” a pause, “Yes.” Her voice was quiet now. 

“Oh my god,” Steve said, “Oh. My. God.”

He removed his arm from Nancy’s shoulders and crossed the space between him and Robin in two long strides. He took her by the shoulders. 

“Oh. My. God.” Steve shook her with every word. 

Robin looked at him with wide blue eyes, scanning his face. 

“Are you mad?”

“Mad? No, I’m not mad. This is…” Steve trailed off, “We gotta go.”

“What?” Nancy and Eddie both protested, but neither Steve nor Robin paid them any attention. 

“Okay,” Robin responded, like she always did when he asked for something. “What about the kids?”

“I’ll come back for them,” Steve said, “They’ll be fine.”

“And what about us?” Eddie asked. 

“I’ll come back for you, too. Or I can drive you home now.”

“That’s not what I meant. What about the adventure? Purple palm tree delight?”

“We’ll do it another night,” Robin promised.

“Wait, why are you leaving?” Nancy asked. 

“There’s just something we gotta deal with,” Robin told her, “Some… wires we gotta uncross.”

Steve was still holding her by the shoulders. Still hadn’t looked away from her. 

Looks like it was finally time for that crisis.

[electrasev5nwrites]

Ninja Daily: Vapors 60

"Well, that's not suspicious at all," Kakashi commented dryly when the two Akatsuki members ahead of them wordlessly turned and entered the gaping maw of a natural cave system.

He gave his team a quick glance (inadvertently shaking out some of the sand that had found its way into his hair and was making it even heavier and stiffer than usual). At least Tenzou could be counted on to be calm and ready to go. He'd keep an eye on the boys. Sasuke was paper pale and shaking. 'Eagerness, or something else?' he wondered with concern. Naruto looked about murderous.

Better eager than frightened, he supposed, but not by much. A fight like this would require cool heads. The Sabaku girl looked ice-cold and ready to go, but she was hardly his to command, so he ignored her.

"Wait, boys." He pushed up the headband covering the Sharingan eye he had been training with extensively in the past few years and gave the cave a once-over. Nothing. No genjutsu, no residual chakra from jutsu techniques, and no unusual physical signs.

Not seeing signs from a trap was a bit disconcerting, since this was so obviously one. There had to be some reason that the Akatsuki wanted to engage them in enclosed quarters. To let the third doubtlessly hiding within get them while they adjusted to the darkness, perhaps? There had to be at least three present, after all. Akatsuki traveled in groups of two, and the Kazekage had killed one. Hoshigaki Kisame and Uchiha Itachi must be his reinforcements.

It wasn't a particularly soothing thought. But these people weren't going to give up. If they retreated, the Akatsuki would just try again and the circumstances might be less favorable that time. It didn't seem likely that he would ever be leading a team more equipped for this fight—six shinobi, all either elites or incredibly powerful but under-experienced were the type of force that wasn't assembled often.

"If Gaara doesn't mind, I think that he and I should check it out. We'll give a holler if we want you to follow us in." He stared down his team, checking to see if they looked to be obedient. "If we can, we'll lead them out and away from whatever trap they have ready to spring. If not, we'll hopefully get the brunt of it and you can be our backup force."

Gaara seemed to be on a similar wavelength. "This is certainly a trap," he agreed solemnly. "We do not all want to walk into it at once. Temari-"

"I know, I know." She bit her lip, looking down. "Be careful."

"How long should we wait?" Kakashi repressed a fond smile. That was Sasuke for you, ever practical.

"Ah, a few minutes or until you hear us dying horribly, I suppose," he added with an eye-smile.

Naruto met his eye with an uncommonly serious expression. "Don't even joke about that, Kakashi-sensei. Tsunade'd kill you if you died."

Sasuke snorted, somehow releasing the built-up tension. "Idiot, that doesn't even make sense," he muttered, elbowing his teammate.

"Does too," Naruto argued. "She'd revive 'im so she could strangle him!"

"Keep in mind that my acquaintance with her is brief, but I'd put my money on a bludgeoning, actually," Temari added with a sideways little smile. Yamato cringed.

"You're both off," Sasuke huffed. "It's much more likely that-"

"As soothing as discussing the methodology of my inevitable murder at the hand of the Hokage is, I think we're going to head in." His tone was unamused, but the banter was actually a bit relaxing. It was familiar.

They didn't say goodbye. It would have felt too final, too much like giving themselves bad luck. He let Gaara investigate the lead with a sand clone and an undulating wave that preceded them, washing over the rocks and soil in order to search out anything suspicious. He kept his own Sharingan active. The drain be damned—he'd need every advantage possible against Uchiha Itachi. He was much stronger than he'd been the last time they had clashed, but that didn't guarantee anything.

'Thank all the kami that Sasuke didn't argue and try to charge in.' That would have been bad, but well within his character profile. Perhaps he'd matured significantly under the Hokage's tutelage?

The light from above head failed, giving only the faintest hints of visibility. They were silent, pacing implacably through what appeared to be a long cave system, barely lit by fluorescent mold growths scattered on the walls.

"Perhaps this location is an attempt to limit my usage of sand," Gaara mused quietly. His supply was only what he had brought in, and he had much less room to work in than was optimal.

Kakashi was about to hum in agreement, but someone else beat him to the punch.

"I constantly find myself in admiration of the stupidity of others. Surely you know that you will die here."

Well, that had to be their mysterious third person, since it decidedly wasn't Uchiha Itachi or Hoshigaki Kisame's voice. It was low, evenly paced, and gravelly. In the dark, it was almost unnerving. It was almost a pity that their puppet master friend had picked an unreceptive audience to waste his theatricality on.

"Big words, from the incompetent who tried to kidnap Aiko," Kakashi bantered casually. "How did that work out for you?"

He took a moment to regret that his only audience was the Kazekage and their enemy. He would have gotten at least a snicker out of even Sasuke for that one. She must have been a horrible hostage, contrary as she was.

The following silence was palpably irritated. The puppet master had probably hoped she had gotten lost in the desert and that they thought he still had her. "I recognize you, whelp," the voice hissed, changing tracks. "How convenient. Even after everything possible has gone awry, it still appears as though I will get to add to my collection. Not only has the Kazekage has come to fight, but also the famous Sharingan no Kakashi."

A slow, wooden clacking came from all around in the darkness. It was impossible to see more than a few feet in any direction, but the acoustics indicated that they had entered a much larger chamber.

"Here I thought the Kazekage would be my best prize, but I already have one of those. You will have the honor of being my first puppet with an ocular kekkai genkai. I will do my best to utilize your abilities to the fullest. But first…"

Gaara's sand whipped up to block a barrage he couldn't see. It shook under the force of heavy thuds, then slowly collapsed.

"You'll have to show them to me."

"Then you should show yourself," Gaara said calmly, arms crossed in front of his torso.

"Ha. You would like that, wouldn't you. Why would I do that, when I have two flesh puppets to assist me?"

Comprehension dawned. "Those weren't really your fellow Akatsuki," Kakashi shifted his hands, ready to make a seal. It had been a trick to lure them in and separate the group.

A hmph echoed around them. "Yes, and no," the puppeteer allowed. "Their physical bodies are elsewhere, but through my jutsu, they are perfected! I would rather have these works of art imbued with their chakra as my allies than the originals themselves."

"Convenient claim, considering the real ones aren't here to help you," Kakashi taunted lightly.

The short laugh was an unpleasant surprise. "You are mistaken. They're outside. Hurry and die now… I promised I would be the first to capture my assigned bijuu."

'Well, shit.' He didn't have time to think more than that, because the cave was suddenly filling with nearly ice-cold water. He was soaked to his ankles before he could react, jumping to the surface. 'This is bad,' he thought with bleak amusement. 'Water will slow Gaara's sand, and then Itachi's fire will bake it. Unless he manages to keep it all dry, which will leave us open to assault from below.'

Hoshigaki Kisame would almost certainly be talented with water release jutsu, even in a secondary form such as this. Of course… if the puppeteer was telling the truth, then fighting these opponents with the same strategies he would normally use was inefficient. It assumed that the puppeteer would use them to fight the same way that the nin themselves battled.

What were the odds of that? It was unlikely, especially since he'd professed preference for his automatons. These opponents would be in perfect sync acting upon one predictable agenda…

With a splash, he took off at a roll, using two spinning kunai to deflect the needles aimed at Gaara's feet. Those had to have been from the real opponent, but he didn't have time to track them back to their point of origin because he was dodging an enormous sword. Knowing it wasn't the real legendary sword didn't make him more eager to contact it. Who knew what traps had been laid on its surface?

This man was after the Kazekage. He had prepared to neutralize the sand that made him a nearly undefeatable opponent, and taken great trouble to specify that he had two 'flesh' puppets. Real ones would be pitifully easy for a sand user to defeat: the slightest bits of dust or matter in the exquisitely formed joints would ruin all the carefully built traps within and slow down its movement. Being flesh, Gaara could immobilize these opponents just as easily if they weren't simulacrums of such high-level shinobi. The unfavorable environment and their coordination would make that aim more difficult.

Of course, the fact that this trap had been expertly tailored for Gaara made Kakashi the fly in the ointment. It would be up to him to provide assistance that this man couldn't have planned for.

That made the first thing they needed to do clear: find their real opponent. The largest factor that would help was increased visibility. If Pakkun hadn't been able to scent this man, Kakashi wouldn't, so they would have to use something else. Of course, fire ninjutsu wouldn't go for any longer than chakra was poured into them. He'd have to figure something out.

Easier said than it was done, while they were harried by simulacrums of two S class fighters, but it was the simplest course of action. Killing the puppet master would turn 'Itachi' and 'Kisame' into piles of meat… so that he could worry about the real ones outside, if this man was telling the truth.

"That makes five minutes," Sasuke noted quietly. He hadn't taken his eyes off the cave entrance since their commanding officer had gone in. Eerily enough, they couldn't hear a thing. How deep was the formation? Was there some sort of genjutsu or seal work in place muffling sounds?

Temari flinched, catching Yamato's eye. "Ah, guys? We have incoming."

'And how sad is it that I'm the best sensor here?', she thought glumly. Those chakra signatures weren't exactly subtle ones.

The group's collective gaze followed her finger to where two blurs were approaching at a frightening pace. Warily, she unhooked her fan and slid it out to the first fold, tilting it slightly so that the metal edge caught the sun and reflected back to blind their newest problems. They came to a stop and the tall one flinched his gaze away from the refracted light, but the other gazed implacably at the assembled group.

"But—you went in there! We saw you."

Everyone else seemed too floored to properly react and Naruto's surprise was really quite forgivable, but Temari rolled her eyes and uncharitably thought, 'Well, clearly they aren't in the cave anymore, if they ever were.'

The monstrously imposing Mist nukenin gave a barking laugh, whipping his sword off his back and thrusting the tip into the sand so he could lean on the weapon. "I guess that means we found out what we came here for, eh Itachi? Sasori must have survived if he's playing with those stupid dolls. And look, Konoha conveniently sent out another jinchuuriki for us to grab. It would be a shame to pass up such a golden opportunity. Sasori can fend for himself."

"Indeed."

'Holy hell, the prettiness is genetic.'

Temari shifted her eyes almost immediately away from the pale face that had been hidden under a low hat. She would really prefer not to fight an Uchiha—wind and fire were a dangerous combination. At least they had the advantage of numbers, even if their strongest members were preoccupied.

As if he'd been sharing her thoughts about finalizing how they should split, Yamato slipped a kunai out of his hip pouch- and then threw it to Naruto, of all the people.

"Naruto, catch!" The blonde snapped a hand out to get it, momentarily more confused than anything. "They're after you. If it looks like you're about to lose, spark chakra against that. It's very important, okay?"

"Well, I'll be damned," Hoshigaki murmured, eyes fixed on the tagged kunai. "I haven't heard of one of those in years."

'Well, at least the boys look as confused as I do,' she noted. Yamato had apparently hoped to leave it at that and assume Naruto would obey without further explanation, but the bizarre tendency that some people had to share everything they know kicked in.

"That's the technique that the Yondaime Hokage was famous for. That's how Hiraishin works, doesn't it?" Hoshigaki turned unnatural eyes on Yamato. "You think you'll be able to provide a rescue, boy? Not if I kill you first!"

Yamato leapt backwards and clapped his hands into a seal. "Wood Ninjutsu!"

'Whoa, he's actually pretty good.' That was an enormous element manifestation. Of course, the wall didn't stop Hoshigaki for more than an instant, even though the thunk of it connecting with his bulk was amusing. 'Wait, Hiraishin? Konoha's instantaneous travel technique? Well, suddenly what's been going on with Aiko makes so much more sense. But Yamato must be really desperate if he's hoping she'll be able to get Naruto out. This situation is bad.'

It was probably a good thing that the Mist nin seemed to think that Yamato was the Hiraishin user. Akatsuki would think that the situation was controllable, as long as they kept him too preoccupied to provide aid to Naruto.

"I guess that means you're my fight!" Naruto roared, calling five clones into existence. They immediately grouped into twos and started making odd hand motions. "Rasengan!" He barreled forwards to the older Uchiha, two clones helping him make a pincer formation. The figure he collided with disappeared into smoke, and the real Itachi appeared ten feet away. He huffed irritably. "Sasuke, you're going to have to help. You're faster than me."

That was all she spotted of that fight before it became clear that Yamato needed an assist. "Wind art," she gritted out, forcing her fan open and batting it with such force that she could feel the strain in her shoulder blades. The resultant wave of air forced Hoshigaki's water dragon off course and gave Yamato time to jump out of the sludge pit that had appeared sometime in the seconds she'd looked away.

The two fights quickly veered apart. That was both good and bad. On one hand, it reduced the possibility of friendly fire. But it also meant that they wouldn't be able to provide the younger team with an assist if they got in over their heads. She clenched her jaw. 'We have to finish this as quickly as possible.'

Kisame didn't seem to be feeling particularly cooperative, however.

"Why don't you just drop dead!" Temari rather succinctly expressed her thoughts, sending a gust of razor-sharp air at Hoshigaki. As big as he was, his sword was nearly as bulky, so when he lifted it to block her attack he only ended up with minor gouges in the skin that had been exposed around it, noticeably his bulky shoulders and an arm. He grinned at her, displaying teeth that he had to have spent hours sharpening.

"You want to play too, little girl?" He dislodged his jaw and projectile-vomited a spout of hot water at her. She dodged directly into the air and flipped onto her fan to take the high ground, but barely escaped. Her right foot didn't quite move out of the way in time, and was clipped by the spout. It sent her fluttering uncontrollably backwards and instantly scalded the flesh it had connected with, making it swollen, red, and painful. His follow-up attack might have finished her while she was still fighting for control of her own fan if Yamato hadn't chosen that second to dash in and give a punishing double-kick directly to the Akatsuki's torso.

It got his attention, but the fact that the impact barely seemed to shake the blue man was chilling. Yamato instantly kicked off into a roll, dodging the retaliatory strike. Clearly irritated, Hoshigaki pushed forward with his sword and forced her comrade on the defensive, ducking and weaving around a sword that had to weigh as much as she did and only rarely getting glancing blows of his own in before scuttling backwards.

She pulled her damaged limb safely up onto her weapon and current mode of transport, frowning in through.

'Even with that enormous weapon, he's as fast as either of us. We're going to have to attack simultaneously to cause any real damage to this freak.'

Of course, they were going to have to step up their hitting power as well. "Summoning jutsu!" she bit and smeared a bloody finger across the surface of her fan as smoothly as possible, pumping power into the technique. She was going to need the big guns for this, especially since her wind jutsu was weaker than usual while she was using her fan for other purposes. "Combination wind and summon technique!"

Without further explanation, her speedy weasel summon flickered into the gust she forced out with a huff and landed on the back of the nuke-nin who had turned away from her to engage Yamato. His light feet and more damaging strikes were hidden among the sudden pressure and lightly scored blows from her hard-edge wind technique. Kisame roared in anger and turned to bat her friend away, barely missing the weasel who darted agilely out of reach—which left him open to a low swipe at his shins from Yamato who had pulled out a kunai at some point. He reflexively kicked out, sending Yamato stumbling backwards, but he'd been blooded well.

By the grimace on Yamato's face, the blow had connected solidly, but he stood without a flinch and readied himself to engage again.

Temari was the only one who didn't stumble when the ground shook with such force that something seemed to crack in the stone cave several hundred feet away. It didn't take a genius to figure out the culprits: the two largest summons she had ever seen were silhouetted in the distance where the other fight had meandered. She had to stare. 'I knew they were powerful, but that's insane!' Compared to that mountain-sized toad and the slug thing at its side, her summons looked like a stuffed animal. The toad gave a hop that sent the ground shuddering again, knocking both Kisame and Yamato to their knees on the ground.

'I guess that's my chance!'

She gripped her fan tightly and whipped it out from underneath her body, generating an enormous force while she fell and forced it down, completely bowling Kisame over and sending him rolling across the sand, ending mostly buried in a flurry of the hard particles. She'd managed to keep the worst of the blow away from Yamato, but he was still harried enough by the disturbed landscape that he had to hold his arms up to shield his face.

She grinned ferally as she lightly touched down with her weight mostly on her good foot, rotating her fan so that it was sideways and spinning her body around entirely to generate a whirlwind that she released directly at the Mist-nin struggling to his feet among the blinding sand she had already kicked up. "This one was inspired by Gaara!" She called out. "Sandstorm!"

True to her rather unimaginative name, the funnel shaped air disturbance picked up a frightful amount of hard sand and buffeted Kisame with it fiercely, hitting him several thousand times and forcing him inside its tunnel. The move blinded, gave physical damage by knocking the victim around like a toy, and filled their lungs with sand and made it hard to breathe. He'd survive, but this would significantly slow Hoshigaki down and impact his ability to spit water ninjutsu.

Of course, she immediately followed it up with a standard wind cutting blast carrying her summons to cause as much damage as possible. Before he could even see through the sand, it was slicing across Kisame's torso, getting blood all over the sand. He grimaced, standing slowly. "You two are better than I gave you credit for. I'll admit that you're each half as good as me, no small feat."

She fought the urge to stick her tongue out at him. How cocky.

'I just need to keep my head. He isn't actually trying to capture Naruto, and he won't permanently injure either of us. We just need to put up enough of a showing that he can disengage without rousing suspicion.'

Telling himself that didn't stop the screaming in Sasuke's head that wanted him to tell Itachi that he knew, damnit, and he thought his brother was an idiot but he'd done the best he could and he didn't hate him, could never hate him.

When Naruto shouted for his attention, he jerked back to the real world enough to remember that he had to pretend to want Itachi dead. He had to fight. Breaking his brother's cover would kill him as surely as a chidori to the chest, and he couldn't be certain that they wouldn't be overheard. Besides, he couldn't break Tsunade's confidence and undermine everything they'd been working for. She would find a find to get Itachi home safely and pardoned as soon as it was possible. He knew she would.

'This is just a spar,' he lied to himself. 'Itachi is strong and fast enough that Naruto and I won't be able to kill him anyways. Just pretend it's Shizune.'

Somewhat bolstered by his internal pep talk, he fell into a ready position. Itachi didn't seem inclined to make the first move—merely reacting to Naruto's blows. If he were really taking this fight seriously, he would have to say-

"Don't be stupid, Naruto! You're never going to hit him like that." He glared at his brother. "He's too fast."

Comprehension seemed to dawn in Naruto's eyes. "Geeze," he taunted, "it's like you think we need to take a guy like this seriously. If what we need is a distraction, this should do!" His crossed hands signaled to Sasuke that his companion was about to summon some variation of his Kage Bunshin. Perhaps he intended to use overwhelming numbers? It was crude, but it could work. He readied to slip in and attempt to bat his brother back with Tsunade's strength technique- but faltered entirely when the chakra smoke cleared to reveal what appeared to be Aiko, butt-naked.

'Did Naruto use the Hiraishin to call for help already?' he thought dumbly, closely followed by, 'I would have taken the time to dress.'

Then he grimaced in outright shock. 'And why the hell is she blowing kisses at Itachi?'

Said Uchiha looked unimpressed, if a little bit taken aback by the sheer 'what the fuck' factor of the situation.

When the smoke wafted away entirely and Naruto didn't emerge, he managed to force himself to activate his Sharingan to search for the idiot.

'I should have known,' Sasuke groaned.

"Idiot! Your sister is going to kill you!" he snapped irritably. "And what the hell kind of attack is that?"

"It works on Jiraiya," Naruto pouted, ending the technique and putting his hands on his hips. "It's not my fault that you Uchiha bastards are defective!"

"I am afraid that the success a naked woman has against the toad sannin is not entirely reflective of the general population," Itachi added with- oh god, was that a hint of amusement?

If he could have, Sasuke would have sunk into the ground in shame. That was the first full sentence he'd heard from his brother in god knows how long. What must Itachi think of his teammate?

Itachi wasn't thinking much of anything at all beyond, 'Sasuke has unusual companions,' having not quite hit the hormonal aspect of puberty himself, self-stunted through sheer willpower and the inability to access even most neutral emotions after years of repression. Kisame wasn't entirely mistaken when he claimed that if Itachi was any more tense, he'd compress his ulcers into diamonds.

Just to make the awkward moment end, Sasuke charged forward with fists practically glowing from the readied chakra, making a swipe at Itachi that he dodged. Itachi made the mistake of catching his second blow. The accumulated force sent them both skidding along with his momentum, and Sasuke managed to land a glancing blow across Itachi's torso before he dissolved into a flock of crows, reappearing with a flicker behind him and easily twisting his arm up behind his back to lean down and speak into Sasuke's ear.

"You've grown, Sasuke-kun. But not enough."

He recognized exactly why his brother said that. Sasuke even knew that such an acknowledgment was probably completely genuine. But hell, it still pissed him off a little.

"Kage Bunshin!"

Knowing wordlessly that Naruto would be approaching Itachi's back right now to free him, he used the replacement technique to trade places with one of Naruto's clones and leap downward with all the force he could muster to blow up an enormous amount of the hardened sand that formed something of a floor, instantly dirtying all three of them and inadvertently ending Naruto's clone technique. The genjutsu Naruto had been using to hide among them flickered to an end and he coughed violently, covering his face to protect it from breathing in debris.

"Ah, Sasuke? Maybe we'd be better off backing off and trying to avoid getting thumped."

He had to pull his hands up and shout "Kai!" to be sure that wasn't a really bad genjutsu.

'Kami, that doesn't sound like Naruto at all. He must be taking Akatsuki seriously.'

Naruto also looked mildly affronted, but just gave him a dirty look instead of yelling at him then. "Summoning no Jutsu!" Sasuke joined in as soon as he realized what Naruto's plan was, calling Katsuya's full manifestation for the first time since he had signed Tsunade's contract. The sudden uplift in elevation gave him the odd sensation of his stomach dropping, but he covered the sudden discomfort well.

"Katsuya, acid attack!"

Obediently, she opened her –well, what passed for a mouth—and hacked out a bullet of greenish liquid that impacted against the sand with a sizzle. Itachi darted around on the sand below like a jumping insect, dodging even the far-flung splashes.

Naruto's stupid toad may have come to a similar analogy, because unprompted it gave a gigantic thumping leap that nearly squashed Itachi with little fanfare. The impact send enormous ripples shuddering along Katsuya's length, and she squalled indignantly, her own attack caught in her throat.

"Damnit, Naruto," he yelled in irritation, despite knowing that toads were difficult to control. If he couldn't get his summons to do what he wanted, then he shouldn't be calling them.

"No, stop," Naruto shouted, completely ignoring Sasuke. "Use your oil! Sasuke, light it up!"

Comprehension seemed to dawn on both Uchiha at the same time that an enormous spigot of oily liquid covered the entire field of battle. Sasuke's eyes were wide with horror as he numbly worked through the handsigns he had to in order to play his part- this attack could burn Itachi alive—but Itachi was already moving across the field, away from them and towards his companion.

"Holy shit, did we put Itachi on the run?" Sasuke distantly registered the words coming out of his own mouth.

A moment later, Sasuke managed to pull himself out of his disbelief thoroughly enough to note that Kakashi and Gaara had returned from-had the cave collapsed?

'That makes more sense,' he thought with some disappointment mixed with relief. Running was a good call at that point. Naruto cancelled his summon and sprinted to their team leader, completely ignoring the Akatsuki turning tail to run.

"Sensei! Are you alright?"

"Maa, maa," he demurred, looking tired.

"Should we pursue?" Temari interrupted, visibly scanning her brother for injuries and seeming relieved.

"No. We did what we came for." He tilted his head slightly at Kakashi, who lifted a slightly bloodied fist in acknowledgement.

That was odd. Usually chidori was messier than that. Sasuke didn't question it, however. If they said this puppet master was dead, then he was.

"Was it really Sasori of the Red Sand?" Yamato interjected with poorly-hidden worry.

The two who had fought the puppet master exchanged looks.

"Could have been," Kakashi admitted easily. "That might explain the bit about how it would be fitting to kill me with his parents."

Sasuke cringed a bit. He didn't want to know. Really, he didn't. Just to change the subject, he turned to the group at large. "Does anyone need medical attention before we go?"

Temari and Yamato exchanged sheepish looks and gave him guilty looks that implied the answer was, 'a little.' He rolled his eyes and grabbed Yamato roughly by the arm, lighting up his hand with medical chakra to perform a diagnostic scan in lieu of tugging coherent answers out of him. Naruto sniggered. He seemed to get bored even before Sasuke had fixed Yamato's cracked rib and reduced the swelling in the ankle that would have made running all but impossible for Temari. He dealt with that boredom by summoning a small toad and asking it to carry a message to Jiraiya, who was still waiting in Konoha. He almost immediately got a reply that Naruto passed off to Kakashi with a pout.

The trip back to Suna seemed much longer than the run they had made earlier that day. Shadows were slipping across the dunes, decreasing visibility and making footing even harder to find. Gaara and Temari had broken off as soon as they'd hit the gates, giving goodbyes and apologizing for having to run back to work. It had only been something like eight hours since they had left Suna in the first place, so it was a pleasant surprise to find that Shizune had managed to find the time to complete Aiko's healing.

"But she isn't fit to run yet!" She'd added quickly when Naruto pointed out that they had been ordered to hurry home.

"This isn't that hard to figure out," Sasuke snarked. "We'll have to carry her."

Aiko did not look best pleased by that notion. "I can walk," she protested, sitting up and apparently attempting to look capable.

It might have been a better attempt if she hadn't been wearing a hospital gown.

Shizune snorted and pushed the girl back down. "and someone should find her some clothes," she pointed out dryly, gathering up her clipboard and adding over her shoulder as she went back to complete her rounds, "I don't think it'd be polite to dig out more of Temari's."

"Er-" Naruto, the second smallest person present (if not by much, he was nearly as big as Sasuke) flushed. "I'd offer, but I kind of forgot to bring a change."

The group at large gave him a repulsed look.

"Naruto, I wouldn't have admitted that," Yamato groaned softly, putting a palm to his forehead.

Their team leader didn't seem particularly interested in dwelling on Naruto's lack of hygiene for longer than absolutely necessary. Instead, he pulled off the slack pack on his shoulders and dug around, eventually extracting a blue long-sleeved shirt and pants. "They'll be big, and there's sand, but they're better than a hospital gown."

The group trooped out to let Aiko change. There was a collective snicker when she hobbled to the door, practically daring anyone to say anything with a scowl. Sasuke turned away to compose his expression. He might have offered a change of clothes, but after his growth spurt, the wide-collared shirts he favored might have fallen entirely off the kunoichi. Kakashi's clothes were rolled up several times at the wrists and ankles, but at least they were decent, even if the shirt dipped below her collarbones.

As she was unceremoniously bundled piggyback onto Yamato, Aiko grumbled. "We're never talking about this again. Right, guys? Guys?"

"This is every bit as brilliant as it is moronic," Jiraiya said flatly, shoving the un-activated seal copy that had been given to Tsunade under her nose as if he was scolding a bad dog. Aiko quailed under his unusually stern mien. "I don't know how you did it, but you managed to recreate a working Hiraishin without any of the modifications that made it a viable technique. The meat of the Yondaime's version is here, but somehow this seal is highly inefficient, far too time-consuming, and altogether so inferior to the original that it isn't even funny".

'Don't hold anything back,' she thought a bit snidely. 'Just tell me what you really think.' He did.

"I don't know if the ability and blind bull-headedness it took to do that and still end up with a working technique is more or less impressive than the original technique itself. Explain this mess to me, Aiko."

"Ah…" She swallowed, feeling cowed. It was easy to forget just how imposing this man was when he was giggling at girls or bickering with Naruto, but right now she couldn't seem to forget that he could squash her like a bug and only didn't out of the grace of his heart. "I got most of it from the experimentation process outlined in the notes that you gave me. The array that personalized it to me was pretty much lifted from the seal you helped me design for the three-tails."

"And you don't see the design flaw in that last part?" he pushed, eyes serious. "Think on it."

When he'd interrupted, she'd moved to bite her lip. Reluctantly, she unclenched her teeth and tried to force herself to look relaxed. "I knew that the seal I was using had been intended as a translation," she explained. "and if I hadn't modified it, I would have been indicating that the seal was meant to be used by two people. That's why I added this bit here…" she indicated, but he was already shaking his head tiredly.

"Oh, girl, what am I going to do with you." He pressed a hand to his head. "You closed it brilliantly, but you should have redesigned the thing entirely to fit with this seal. I see why it works, but with the original underlying structure, you're expending twenty times as much chakra as you should and losing most of it to dissipation. You should be able to set this seal without even ink, considering how frequently as you've been using it. Just a patterned chakra pulse," he enunciated clearly as he held up a hand and demonstrated a chakra pulse that puffed out into the air and wafted away into nothingness when he didn't attach it to anything. "That's never going to be possible with the design you came up with, unless of course you're hiding three times your chakra reserves somewhere. Got a Yin seal like Tsunade's stored up?"

She winced at his mocking tone. That might explain why making them tired her so much. "Ah."

"Yes, 'ah', indeed," he said dryly.

Kakashi coughed pointedly. "Not that this isn't fascinating stuff, but perhaps we could continue our briefing?"

Jiraiya blinked at the younger man as if he'd only just noticed the office he'd walked into was already occupied. "What, you still aren't done? You need to move faster, man." Without waiting for a reply, he shifted his focus to Tsunade. "You finished with this one, hime?"

She gave an amused nod in return. "Have at," Tsunade favored him with a single brisk wave.

"Excellent." Aiko barely had time to squeak in surprise when the toad sannin picked her up bodily by the back of her shirt and hauled her out of the room. Naruto gave her a smug look that all but screamed, 'Ha! It's not me this time' as the office faded from view and she found herself swinging lightly from Jiraiya's monstrously big paw from the momentum his shunshin generated.

Getting grabbed in someone else's technique was a decidedly unpleasant sensation.

"Was that entirely necessary?" When released, she bent over slightly and attempted to force down nausea, but Jiraiya unsympathetically thumped her across the back.

"Toughen up, kiddo. Take a seat. We're going to go through this step by step until you see why what you did at first was inadvisable." He paused, and added, "Then you're going to tell me how you realized that using this here would work."

It was a good thing she hadn't been particularly taxed by the trip home, because Jiraiya mercilessly prodded and brow-beat her until she had a far superior design and had communicated exactly how she'd come to the unconventional solutions she had the first time on her own. It took hours. When he was done, he had her light it up—and she was downright shocked to feel an active Hiraishin seal flicker into awareness with just a kiss of chakra.

While she stared dumbly, he gave her a toothy grin. "I'm brilliant, aren't I?"

"Whoa." She stared at her new seal, and then amended, "I mean Hai, Jiraiya-sama." She swiveled to give him a low bow. "I am thankful for your guidance."

He looked discomfited by that. "Hey now, no need for such formality," he muttered, turning his face away. "It's my job, you know." Jiraiya cleared his throat uncomfortably. "What I mean to say is-"

"You're my godfather," she interrupted absently, still preoccupied by how easy that had been. After a second of silence, she blinked and looked up. "Is something wrong?"

Jiraiya shook his head and gave an undignified snort. "I keep forgetting how sharp you are, kid. I take it I didn't fool you when I gave you those notes, huh?"

"No, but it was a nice try."

He cuffed her across the back of the head. "Don't lie to me, brat. It was a paper thin excuse, and I was hoping you'd figure it out. Tsunade must have told you about your dad, then? Is it still common knowledge that I was his sensei?"

"No, but it wasn't hard to verify either once I'd noted the physical resemblance that Naruto has," she admitted honestly. (And she really had done that research, years ago. Her records at the private library could testify as to such.) "Seeing as I've only ever seen the name 'Naruto' in one other place, I assumed that you made it up and he was either named in your honor or by you."

"Yes, well." He scratched at the back of his neck. "Anyways. While I'm fulfilling my parental duties, is there anything else that you need, or can I run away from this awkward moment?"

She gave the rhetorical question serious consideration. There was one thing she'd wondered about. "That chameleon genjutsu you taught Naruto. Can you teach me that?"

"Er-" he gave her an odd look. "What for?"

"I think it might help prevent getting immediately clobbered when I Hiraishin around," she explained contemplatively. "I don't have any genjutsu, so I have no idea if I could even do it. But I have terrible nightmarish visions of transporting to Yamato's side and accidentally finding out he prefers briefs to boxers and then having to look him in the eye at the next practice. There's probably an even worse combat scenario, but I'm still too caught up on that one to care."

Jiraiya started laughing immediately. "There are worse reasons," he admitted, shaking his head. "But!" he held up a finger and put his other hand on his hip. "I want you to promise me to use this responsibly!"

"Of course," she agreed immediately.

He grinned. "And by that of course I mean that you have to use it to sneak into the changing rooms at an onsen at least once."

Aiko considered it, but not for long. "That's fine."

"What, really?" Jiraiya gave her a disconcerted look. "That was the part where you were supposed to yell, 'Eek, pervert,' and stomp off." He fluttered his hands above his head in mock-horror.

She gave him a deadpan stare. "I'm still not Naruto. I'm a pervert too."

A silly smile wobbled across his face. "I've never been so proud to have a potential rival in the noblest of pursuits."

Notes: Man, there wasn't much Aiko, was there? Sorrow, but that's how the cookie crumbled in this particular chapter. As for the fights... I get so tired of writing those. Yes, Kakashi did chidori the holy crap out of Sasori's heart. Don't be too surprised if updates slow down for a while: I'm reworking my outline. I got to this point a bit faster than expected.

Omake

Forgive me, but we actually have to have two omake because making decisions is hard. The other is unrelated and below the first.

"Soo," Temari drew out, pinning her youngest brother with a hard stare. "You have a seal that enables you to summon Aiko at any time, huh?"

Gaara nodded. "I would have told you, but I was asked to keep the technique secret."

She waved that away. "That's fine, except for one thing." Temari leaned in close, and seriously asked, "Aren't you a little young for Booty-Call-No-Jutsu?"

Kankuro burst out into surprised howls of laughter, but Gaara looked horrified.

"I would never-"

"A-huh, I'm sure," she interrupted, giving him a clap on the shoulder. "I'm sure that you, an athletic fifteen year old boy, would never think to use the ability to have a pretty fifteen year old girl at your side in an instant for anything other than passing notes in class." By this point, he was as pale as she'd ever seen, and she almost felt bad for teasing.

Not quite, though.

"That would be unprofessional," he finally managed, cheeks just the slightest hint of pink.

"Convincing," she deadpanned, patting his shoulder as she sauntered out. "I'd keep practicing denials if I were you. Eventually, Naruto is going to come to the same conclusion." Still wheezing like a hyena, Kankuro followed her out, giving him one last mirthful look before his office door softly swung shut behind them.

Gaara stared at his sister's back as she stalked out, feeling mildly concussed. It honestly hadn't occurred to him that others might get the impression he had inappropriate sentiments for Uzumaki Aiko. Where had Temari gotten such an impression? She was merely a friend who he trusted to have his best interests in mind and come to lend aid if necessary. The fact that she was conventionally attractive didn't weigh on his mind at all. He had much more important concerns.

He startled, unaware that he'd noted anything about her physical appearance in such terms. Conventionally attractive? Why would he think that, when any number of other descriptive terms would have suited?

'Naruto won't be so unreasonable,' he told himself, turning to go back to work. 'Temari is merely expressing concern over a highly unlikely eventuality.'

His head hit the table with a thunk. "I have a headache," Yamato whined into the cool wood surface, feeling his breath wash over his face.

His senpai snickered. "That doesn't answer my question," Kakashi pointed out with a tone that implied he was finding the situation hilarious. "How did this happen?"

"I don't know," he wailed, lifting his head just enough to give Kakashi sad puppy eyes. "I really don't."

Not for the first time, his eyes were drawn to the addition in his bingo page entry that claimed he had been confirmed as a Hiraishin user. He hated the stupid Akatsuki, making stupid assumptions just because he was carrying around a Hiraishin seal. Wasn't it common sense not to report information about techniques that actually hadn't been witnessed? God, it was going to be so embarrassing to tell everyone it was a mistake.

"Good luck with that." Sympathetically, Kakashi patted his back. "Tsunade is going to laugh at you until she's actually sick."

"It wasn't my fault," Yamato muttered, letting his forehead hit the table again.

[july-19th-club]

WIP WORD SEARCH GAME

@silentstep tagged me in this game which we are both interpreting via our own sort of . internal sense of how it should go. vibes only here we go im just choosing the first instance of each word as i find it plus context

teeth | agitate | seldom | gold | agree

Teeth

On every archway, under each overhang, there are vendors, visitors, porters. Some even sit straddled along the thinner archways and catwalks overhead, and he can see dangling strings of food and sale goods, roped to the supports to keep them from taking up room on the floor. Julian recognizes some of the speech, but a far greater percentage of it is languages the universal translator has never heard before, which means there’ll be a bit of lag before it picks them out from each other, parses them, and makes them available to him. Given the sheer volume of talking going on, that lag could be anywhere between fifteen minutes to the better part of the hour.

JB whistles through his teeth. “Don’t think I’ve seen this many people in one place in…” he frowns, then says, “it’s been a while.”

2. Agitate

There were NO instances of agitate/agitated/agitates in this fic so I went with the first synonym I could think of: Distress

And then the hand and the knife both come away, suddenly, and the other Bashir shoves Garak out of his grip. He stumbles once, then makes it back across the room, hand at his throat. The other Bashir looks almost as if he’s about to laugh. “Right. Don’t touch the cardie. Got it.” 

Julian ignores this and focuses on Garak, feels the chill of real distress when he takes him, one-handed, by the shoulder. With the other hand he tries to keep the phaser trained across the room. The warm hum of the device against his palm is somehow comforting. “Is it deep?” Garak shakes his head and lets Julian pull his hand away from the wound. He’s right, it might want a sturdier sealant, the kind med students still call stitches in a slangy way, but it’s fairly shallow after all. Unlike humans, Cardassians don’t experience a thinning of skin as they age so much as a loss of elasticity, which has its own challenges but nonetheless nets them comparatively tougher hides. It’s only the angle and the way the blood is routing around the ridges and irregularities of his skin that makes it look so frightening.

(I was tempted to cut this one down in an effort to avoid spoilers or whatever but I've been working on this thing for two years. You might as well read SOME of it.)

3. Seldom

No seldoms either - first synonym I thought of: Rarely

He does worry. Just not about those things. Only two years ago, Garak had terrified him half to death by suddenly experiencing a series of debilitating, throw-up-and-pass-out migraines that had turned out not to be, as he’d immediately thought, wire glitch or tumor but instead just symptoms of an unusually bad offworld flu. Before that it had rarely entered his head, what kind of a place they were coming to in their lives. Most of the time he still never thinks about it. Most of the time. 

(And this one I did cut down. No need to go crazy.)

4. Gold

The pilot turns around in their chair, which makes a creaking sort of swivel that makes the pilot visibly wince. The light is blocked for a moment by the back of the chair, and when it adjusts he sees a — well, a kid. Maybe not a teenager. Early twenties, at most, a woman at first glance, with a long sheet of dyed silver-gold hair that hangs down behind the nape of her greenish neck and a telltale inverted teardrop at the center of her brow. She looks as surprised as he feels, and reflexively clenches the control stick of the ship until it rocks enough for her to notice and let go.

5. Agree

“No problem. Works for me,” says the vendor, “thank you for your confirmation and business,” and the connection goes dead a moment later. That’s at least a little bit of extra problem-solving room to manoeuvre in. He rather feels proud of himself for managing to be so smooth about it, too. 

In the quiet, ship-humming minute after the call, he walks the room a good twice more. He still feels unsettled, too wired to relax and too wobbly to focus at the same time. He should go back to medbay. He goes to enter their new arrival agreement into the PADD and mistypes it about four times. He needs to take a deep breath. He needs to go back to medbay is what he needs to do. He needs to take several deep breaths, and maybe do some Klingon yoga, and maybe also get the replicator to spit out something other than synthetic alcohol, and maybe when he gets back to medbay he’ll just grab that little transporter thing and use it to put himself on the other side of the hull so he won’t have to deal with this anymore. 

(I had some more exciting stuff for 'agree' but technically they're not part of the text yet so I didn't want to count them - I already cheated on that self-imposed rule with 'gold.)

Can't think of anyone to tag right now because I can't remember which of my other mutuals are currently writing something SO whoever wants to do this do it - words are:

wind | empty | drape | simple | argument

[hoodiewithhorns]

━  using your safeword scenarios p.3 !★

genre : hurt/comfort smut.

characters : f! reader x sakusa, matsukawa, kenma

p.1  + p.2 + m.sterlist + requests  

(please read the rules before requesting ty.)

▼ cw : not proof read, use of safeword, neglect , unprotected sex, degradation , clit spanking ( 1 ), impact play ( sakusas part ), mentions of exe(s), caught masturbation (reader) , pillow humping, thigh riding, implied punishment, kinda crybaby reader, implied cockwarming, cheating (?), angst, established relationship, all characters are 18+, MDNI ▲

different safewords used this time <3

- ty to the anons and user @/please-take-me-to-the-moon for the scenarios <3 

sakusa 

word count : 1.4k

you knew better than to do this, humping your dearly beloved boyfriends pillow with just your cotton panties, a loose shirt with no bra under, like a bitch in heat, desperate for friction of any kind. You knew if he had caught you like this he would punish you that was guaranteed. however, in the literal heat of the moment you didn’t care. sakusa’s constant pattern of coming home the minute you were already fast asleep in your shared bed, never being able to fill the void of need in your little cunt. 

〜　☆

Considering he’d let this slide since its been a month since you’ve two have done anything sexual, these thoughts only making you hump his pillow even more desperate leaving a pool of your arousal staining his pillow, with the occasional soft whimpers of his name. losing yourself in your own lust, You didn’t hear the sound of the door clicking open.

Sakusa, leaving his practice early since his performance was unfavorable by the shitty mood he was in, lashing out on his teammates for the smallest things they’d do and so many more. in short, his team suggested he’d stay home t’ill he cooled down. 

“y/n? i’m home.”he walked around the empty apartment accompanied by the muffles of your soft moans, trying to find you as quickly as possible, obviously knowing it was you. he opened the bedroom door slowly and quietly. his eyes grew wide at the scene in front of him. 

still not noticing his presence in the door frame you continued humping his pillow feeling your high approach, but leave you since you needed him. 

“tch.” clicking his tongue at you in disapproval. you flinched letting go of his pillow to face him, feeling your heart race when you made eye contact with him, arms folded and a look of disgust planted on his pale face. Your eyes already filling up with tears knowing what comes next. “m’ y-yoomi! w-welcome home-”

“who the fuck gave you permission to touch yourself?” cutting you off, walking towards the bed, he pinned you down to the bed, arms on your sides, hovering over you with his dead, cold, heartless gaze cutting through you, as you tried to look away in shame only earning you a slap to the face to make you look at him. the sting causing you to choke out a sob. praying internally that he’d let you off the hook just this once. you were just needy for him.he has to understand that, right?

“answer me, right.now.”

“n-no one yoomi... i’m s-sorry please don’t wanna be punished!” you pleaded to him only making him more angrier. he grabbed your jaw making you whimper at the tight grip. scanning you top to bottom, eyeing at the wet patch on your underwear. 

“then why did you huh? couldn’t wait until i got home couldn’t you? needy fucking thing.” he tutted, letting go of your jaw harshly, tugging your panties down to your knees already feeling impatient himself by how his cock hardened through his shorts. despite wanting to punish you, he wanted you. needed you to be precise.

 the man hasn’t felt you in a whole month how could he not miss his girlfriends tight slutty cunt? removing his volleyball shorts letting his cock spring free, he strokes himself a few times before lining himself against your cunt, letting a small sigh when you felt his hard tip touch your soaked entrance. 

feeling slightly relief you were finally gonna feel him after so long. That feeling of relief however didn’t last long when he slammed his fat cock inside you without warning. you let out a yelp, hands immediately going to his chest hoping for him to not bruise your cervix from how deep he was already. he growled when he felt your palms try and stop him, so he slapped your hands away roughly marking them red. 

“b-but yoomi please it hurts..it h-hurts” 

you figured he didn’t hear you. but he was too focused on punishing you to care if it hurt or not. so you pleaded again for him to slow down. finally getting a response from him.

“shut up you disgusting whore.you brought this on yourself, touching yourself while your boyfriends away.”

“...dirtying up his fucking pillow while he’s gone. how fucking pathetic.”  he spits, slapping your clit harshly in attempt to get you to shut up. his degrading not having a hint of reassurance anywhere like it usually does when he fucks you. normally, he’d call you his “slut” or his whore but never ever calling you a disgusting one at most, what did this mean?..you asked yourself, mind going hazy with fear. feeling like your boyfriend finds you disgusting for your actions, and not a single trace of love or concern for you, not even noticing how you tried inching yourself away from his pace. 

sakusa was a mean dom yes, but he cared about you and your boundaries and right now it seemed like he didn’t care about any of those.

too focused on his own pleasure, not realizing you slowly started to breakdown in front of him, hands to your eyes shaken from how hard he hit them, as more tears fell to stain your cheeks.

“n-no not disgusting..i-i’m...so sorry..sakusa..just missed you.” you muttered no longer feeling the long needed pleasure of his cock, only feeling a painful discomfort in your chest as if your heart was gonna burst out of it at any minute. he was caught off-guard by you calling him by his last name, but that didn’t stop the brutal pace on your sloppy cunt. repositioning his hand to your hips digging his nails in your sides, bound to leave marks to be seen in the morning. 

“addressing me by my last name? what you think thats gonna make things better?”he muses, his pace speeding up making you whimper. you’ve just about had enough.

“germs! g-germs! no more, i don’t like this!! y-you’re hurting m-me sakusa... please s-stop..stop.” screaming your safeword, trying to get him off you, you pushed with the little strength in you with your fragile hands. it wasn’t enough but he got the message. blinking a few times to make sure he processed the current situation.

he sighed pulling his cock out watching you with wolf eyes as you softly cried to yourself, turning to your side. he didn’t say anything he just laid down beside you. sneaking an arm around your waist, face buried in your neck. he planted some soft kisses onto it trying to make you relax. if he was being brutally honest, he didn’t know what to do.

you never used your safeword and even if it didn’t show in his face, he was pretty frightened. watching you tense up and shake around him all because of him.

“ y-yoomi..im sorry-”

“don’t be.”

he rubs your hands with his thumb in slow but comforting circles, seeing its still red from being slapped away by him, along with him kissing your cheek to simmer down the sting from earlier. god he felt so bad, but was so scared at the same time, all he wanted to do was hold you close..

..and thats what he did, watching you curl up to his chest. The room was silent for a few minutes that felt like hours gone by. you looked up at him with the look you always gave him. Full of love and adoration even with puffy eyes and hurt in your chest you still loved him.

He looked down noticing the soft smile you gave him as if nothing happened. Titling his head in confusion he asks

“why are you smiling? aren’t you upset..at me?”

you shook your head at him, “no yoomi I’m not mad. My body kinda hurts yes, but I’m glad to have you home...i missed you so much I’m sorry i touched myself without permission...”

he lightly smiles at you kissing your lips softly.

“it’s okay. tomorrow we’ll have the day all to ourselves and we can do whatever you want my love. I’m sorry i was so mean... i was having a bad day and I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”

you paused leaning in closer to his chest as you mumbled.

“can we...take a bath together yoomi?”

“oh sure...here i’l carry you.”

needless to say, you forgave him and gave him one last kiss before going to bed.

kenma

word count : 886

kenmas work schedule was god awful since he was practically up to play games and just that leaving you feeling needy and neglected. you hated it. 

but tonight you were just, so needy and couldn’t stand this constant neglect.

No matter how many times you touched yourself of grind against something it couldn’t compare to the way kenma would stuff you with his cock.

he wasn’t a super harsh dom leaning towards a mix of soft and mean, but he still prioritized your needs before his. and tonight you were gonna get that version of kenma.

walking towards the couch he was playing his games at slowly, with nothing but his hoodie and knee highs. you bit your lip standing in front of him, fiddling your thumbs out of nervousness. He titled his head to remove you from his line of sight to see the tv screen better making your heart ache just a little, being so used to it already.

taking a deep breath you sat in between on of his thighs wrapping your arms around his neck making him let out a groan of annoyance to your needy antics.

he continued to play his game acting as if you weren’t there and nothing changed. it all came to a halt when he felt you grinding on his thigh, letting out small cries of his name.

“baby.... please” you mumbled facing his disinterested face not even sharing a glance at you as he continued to move his thumbs around his controllers joystick. He didn’t even pay mind to the fact you were borderline naked either.

“five minutes pretty girl.” he muttered still too absorbed in his game. You pouted shifting your legs to be wrapped around him now, wet cunt on top of his crotch rubbing against him lightly. Making him flinch at the sudden friction. giving you hope he’d give you what you want now. you smirked continuing to grind against him making him bite back a grunt. 

“ugh what are you doing?” he said clearly annoyed by your antics already.

your face became red while placing your hands on his shoulders slowly starting to grind against his growing bulge. “want your attention kenma please need you so bad.” you begged hoping he’d give you something anything really.

but being kenma, he went back to his video games. your pout returning once more. “but kenma, please i really really need you.” you continued with your antics and he paused his game, putting his controller on the coffee table. 

“fine you want me so fucking bad?” he grabs you by the hips making you yelp as he throws you down the couch. back hitting the cushions while he takes your legs and wraps them around his waist.

he pulls down his sweats pumping himself a few times as he rolls his head back, holding back his grunts. he slowly slides his cock into you, being easy to do considering how wet you were already for him. 

he groans as he bottoms out inside you starting steady, but slowly picking up the pace to be more..brutal.

“k-kenma..m’ feels good thank you thank you” you rambled out praises making him grab you by the throat to thrust into you faster. 

“god you’re so fucking annoying bothering me because you wanted to get your cunt stuffed like a little slut while i fucking work.” he scoffs making your eyes shoot open at him.

“such a fucking annoying little slut.” he continues his degradation thr grip on your throat not loosening. you felt you eyes grow teary as he continued to call you more vulgar names with the sprinkle of him calling you annoying. 

“ c-console...” you mumbled wrapping your hands on his wrists, making him let go of your throat. he froze getting closer to your face as he pulls out slowly.

“huh? Whats wrong does it hurt?” he asks rubbing away your tears with the pad of his thumb. 

your lip quivered as more tears started to form. “...i-im annoying...?” you looked him in his eyes as more broken sobs leave you.

“I just wanted some attention kenma...you’re always so busy sometimes I don’t even think you remember i exist..” you muttered feeling small under his cat like stare. 

he sighed kissing your cheek, falling to your. side feeling his breath hit your neck. “sorry baby i swear i didn’t mean it...you’re not annoying its my fault for not giving you attention.” he admits as you wrap around him. 

“y-you promise you didn’t mean it?” you ask once more. he sneaks a hand under your head to lift you up to his chest, patting your head softly. 

“ i promise. here why don’t you sit on my lap, we can do that thing you wanted to try last week...” he looks away embarrassed, you tilt your head in confusion but then realize what he was referring to. you nodded joyfully wrapping your arms around his neck, he adjusts himself for you to line up to take him. he  slowly puts you back down on his cock. hissing at the returning feeling.

He smiled kissing your forehead lightly as he hugged you tight. 

“better my love?”

“mhm mhm!” you said placing your head on his shoulder as you relax into him. slowly drifting away into sleep. its not much, but at-least it stuffs your very needy cunt.

matsukawa 

word count : 615

what lead to this? you two were just on a simple date together at a nearby mall shopping together, looking at upcoming movies, stopping by a few manga stores and bakeries to treat yourselves. overall, just enjoying the time shared together. 

that is t’ill the two of ran into your ex. issei watching the two of you talk to each other not realizing how uncomfortable you really were, hiding it with a friendly facade of course going unnoticed by him since he was practically death glaring your ex. 

he was basically third wheeling in your conversation with your ex. you would side eye issei hoping he’d pull you out of your situation but it was too late since his mind was cloudy with jealousy and rage.  

now, leading up to your current predicament. a heavy make-out now leading to a degradation fest.  

“aw whats wrong little slut can’t take me, fucking pathetic much?” he teases pounding you at a faster pace. “can’t believe my own fucking girlfriend was just there being all friendly to her ex..what don’t tell me you still want him?” he muses making you rapidly shake your head. 

“ no i don’t i swear issei..just wan’ you..”you muttered eyes growing puffy from how cruel he spoke to you as he continued to suggest away of how would get him back since it seemed like you missed him from how friendly you were acting.

growing quiet at his words trying to tune out his words. it’ll all be over soon anyways, you just had to hold on a bit you told yourself. of course you were an idiot for letting him keep going. 

“ maybe i should go ask how kimi’s doing act all friendly and nice towards her.” you tuned into what issei had said in horror at what he just said.

kimi, his much prettier ex who t’ill this day wasn’t over him and he knew this. throwing it in your face as he darkly chuckled at you. you removed your arms that were wrapped around his neck pulling him close. and cupped your face in your hands at the thought of your boyfriend going back to his ex. leaving you alone again.

he wouldn’t right? even though she was much prettier in every feature she had compared to you. he wouldn’t right..? right? 

“f-funeral...“you sniffled making him stop all his movements and lock eyes with you. your safeword ringing in his ears. 

“hey..hey no i didn’t mean it...” he quickly pulls you towards him, pulling you out of him and hugging you tight. he rocks you softly back and forth in his embrace letting all your bottle up feelings burst onto him.  he quick to comfort you and pepper a few kisses on your face.

“ issei..” you mumbled against his chest. he rubs your back looking down at you.

“yes baby..?” his voice shaken with worry hoping you weren’t too mad at him.

“ i-i don’t miss him.. i was only being nice..i was uncomfortable talking to him why didn't you..” he internally punches himself for being so blind and not being able to see by all your movements how uncomfortable you were just breathing the same air as your ex.

he was too blinded by his jealousy to realize his poor baby was scared. he mumbled a curse before apologizing.

“i’m sorry baby i didn’t realize he was making you uncomfortable i should've done something..” his eyes wander away from you.

“ i was just jealous..” he admits

“but issei.. you’re all i want.” you say kissing his cheek and he smiles gracefully. 

“am i-i all you want sei?”

“ duh pretty baby. everything  i want and need.”

matsukawas is so short i’m so sorry ahhhh but i hope u all enjoyed <3

[tomago]

i love you so, natsume sakasaki

sypnosis。the world itself seemed to be against both of you, but no matter where you hide, time will always condemn you; it is this world's greatest foe.

cw , angst , death

shuffle x scribble request — ( OKAY THIS IS A LONG ONE bear with me. could i request a natsume x reader angst. maybe a magic au, and reader is watching natsume do his magic stuff. then something goes wrong with his spells and in turn he accidentally puts a deadly curse on the reader, maybe one that drastically shortens their lifespan. BUT, reader doesn’t know what happened. natsume’s like “no worries, nothing big just a little error” and then he goes off searching for something to help reverse the curse and every day he just returns with nothing and watches reader become worse. and then, DUN DUN DUN he returns home to reader succumbing to the final effects of the curse, basically dying. add in some heart wrenching last goodbye type stuff. and then natsume’s guilt after their death. im so sorry this is so long LMAO 😭 )

note ; hiii anon !!!!!!!! I ENJOYED WRITING THIS SOOOSOO SO MUCH. IM SO IN LOVE. YOU ARE SO BIG BRAINED. JUST. chefs kiss i hope this quenches your thirst— ♪

in a world where fear and trepidation runs amidst the airs that the anemoi blew, the grotesque world as it was had always been ruthless and callous to either human or wizard. even treading across a country to another could be perilous; but that may be why it was incredible. the horrors and innocence alike, the world did not treat you differently.

you've always been fascinated by wondrous things, marveling at any phenomenal miracles. you’re covetous of the world and its wonders; not in the bad way, but in the way which exiled you from both human and wizard. your admiration runs deep, and leads you to meeting a talented wizard, sakasaki natsume.

glistening bottles filled with peculiarly-colored liquid and insects that you've ever seen before lined atop shelves inside his quarters, each and every one yelled 'do not touch' in one look — feathered creatures that suspend time in their rustling wings flew over your head; an indication that his refuge was no place for a human.

and here he was, welcoming you yet again above droplets of still resin that contained stone and bone alike — eroded by time to simply memories of what once was.

"curious, isn't it,", his voice echoes from wall to wall through the incandescent rays of sun that peaks through cracks and fissures of his workplace; and with the slightest flick of the wrist, a spell uttered beneath his skin — cold turned into warmth, and feathers began to descend.

a delightful spectacle was on display for only you, your hand light above his gloved own; your eyes wide filled with awe for his effortless feat, and his eyes not once blinked away from you.

how curious, truly, how you fail to notice a ticking bomb even inside you.

gods, — even if silly myths like gods were true, must have a reason to separate man and wizard. even if his heart breaks to part with you, even if your desire to learn more about natsume still is strong, the inevitable truth that the world has was unrelenting.

no matter how much of a frightening wizard natsume was, there was only much he could do with magic. even if it meant for you to live a normal life, even if it meant you'd be cured and forget all about him, he'd give up all of his tricks in exchange for you to survive.

with every moment you spent with him, your life thins, until it was all but a brittle thread. your body will slowly turn into stone, and you will crumble. but more importantly, natsume will live to see it.

how cruel, really, aren't wizards supposed to be the ones tormenting humans? but why do you put him through all of this suffering? letting yourself slowly be poisoned by natsume's apple, and even licking the poison from his fingertips — was this your plan? to turn into stone with his hands and crush him with his own guilt for being too selfish to have you even if it meant losing you?

but seeing your expression so innocent, not worrying about a single thing — you will never be lovelier than now, and he will never be here again. it tugs on his heart tightly, perhaps, he may be able to steal time from fate just a little longer.

this will be my last confession, i love you, i love you, and i love you.

to who does he whisper these words to, if not your peaceful body that lied on top of the wild unruly fields that you and he once danced in? your skin was cold, it shined; and pieces of you fell into his palms.

natsume shook, his tears uncontrollable; this was it. you had turned into stone.

and upon the banks of lethe, his tears fell; how badly must our story end, and decided, no: against his will he drinks the river's cold waters — and forgets everything.

[lesbiannancytruther]

vampire werewolf moment

okay so here im gonna explain specifically vampires/werewolves and how this impacts the characters bc it does different things to them based on my (tentative) explanation as to why any of this happened in the first place

so vampires! i decide which parts of typical vampire canon to adhere to bc some of it is lame, like turning pale?? no way. silver weakness?? HELL YEAH angst. okay so basics: these vampires have enhances strength/speed/senses, can tell when people are lying to them, and are basically supernaturally convincing (kinda charmspeak kinda not). they have retractable fangs that come out either by will or on instinct (when frightened/hungry), they run much colder than humans, their blood is like a freakishly bright red, and their eyes are like... idk how to explain this but brighter?? they’re hard to ignore is what im saying. vampire skin is not impenetrable but it’s hard to get through without excessive force or silver (or werewolf teeth..........). weaknesses wise there’s silver, being hungry/malnourished is like way worse for vampires (tis a curse after all), and the sun, which doesn’t make them combust immediately it just fucking burns and makes them super dizzy and weak and uncomfortable. umbrellas help but they’re not perfect. also weird fact if u show a vmpire their reflection (which they have) they’ll be transfixed and distracted, using their own strength (being supernaturally sexy) against them :(

elaborating on the malnourishment/diet part- vampires absolutely still drink blood. human blood, no going around it, animal blood makes them sick. this is a huge curse. luckily, you don’t have to kill someone when u drink their blood, but its easy to lose focus and accidentally take too much (fun fact both nancy and eddie have done this in this au). there’s a level of self control to resisting feeding during every day interactions with people, but it’s almost impossible to ignore spilled blood. when malnourished, it’s difficult to do much of anything, just moving around/keeping up conversation is a chore, let alone being a vampire. if a vampire is wounded while hungry, it will not heal until they feed, which will then cause it to heal at an accelerated rate. if unfed long enough a vampire could be so out of it that they can’t bring themselves to drink more and they become sort of a husk, but this takes a LONG time, since vampires don’t need to feed as much as humans (probably once a week??). vampires can eat human food but it doesn’t do much for them other than exist kinda

also idk if they can turn into bats like i want them to so bad bc aw but like it doesn’t make crazy sense? but also realism doesn’t matter these r fake gay people... we shall see...

okay this post is so long def gonna have to get into character specifications in a diff one omg

werewolves! okay werewolves r kinda crazy. part of these rules are inspired by @dxringred ‘s werewolf!robin au (which u should absolutely check out if u haven’t its one of the reasons i love this site so much) mainly bc i entirely agree that lycanthropy should be a curse!! but it’s not as heartbreaking bc even i can’t write that many ouch moments. basically, full moon changes werewolves into MASSIVE wolves and i mean massive like yeah twilight wolf type stuff like they r giant, strong, and very much wild animals. unlike their au though there’s not like an insane bloodlust/need to kill murder destroy, they just run entirely on instinct. in my mind these werewolves don’t think clearly, but they’re still themselves to some degree, like they still love the people they love, but they also superhate the people they hate. they don’t listen to any sort of commands, are reckless, fiercely protective and territorial, and do what they want, which is sometimes maiming people who make them angry <3 they’re also very likely to get themselves hurt as they don’t do things like look both ways before they cross the street. on the change, it hurts like a bitch and when they change back they get something of a wicked hangover, it’s a very uncomfortable and vulnerable state.

im kinda doing this entry in reverse but in normal every day lives werewolves have a few abilities, which shift in strength depending on the moon phases. during the day all of these abilities are weaker, but the closer to the full moon one is, the stronger they are. werewolves in their normal form have enhanced senses/strength/speed, which are very faint near the new moon but genuinely useful near the full moon. werewolves are very fast healers and can recover from a lot. werewolves are supernaturally intimidating, able to make themselves look bigger and meaner and scarier at will. they run hotter than normal people, and have supernatural resistance to all sorts of harsh climates and temperatures (yeah robin gives nancy her jacket in this au all the time so what). they can track people who’s scents they’re familiar with and can note changes in emotion in scents (like fear). and YEAH, they’re tall and strong, bc werewolves r awesome and r sex appeal incarnate. weakness wise there’s also silver, which burns the skin and makes it much harder for them to regenerate from wounds, they supernaturally lack impulse control (robin absolutely decks people in this au against her better judgement sometimes), and a lot of them deal with chronic pain from the shift every month, which the human (sorta) body is not meant to go through. (okay small character insert nancy absolutely uses her cold hands to help robin the day after the full moon, sometimes just placing her cool hands over robin’s eyes when she’s dealing with a migraine.) say it w me now, these r curses!!! most of the time they r not fun.

okay capping this one off here but this is not over >:(

[amor-immortalem]

Everything Undesired chapter 4

Chapter 3

Warning: mention of torture? Light victim blaming, Lucifer, Satan, and Beel commit murder.

“I see,” Diavolo had a contemplative look on his face. The demon lord, often seen with a jovial, bright smile plastered upon his face, now had replaced it with a more serious look as Lucifer explained just what had happened to his brother. “And you’re positive this is what happened to Mammon?”

“Asmo is certain enough that he would stake his title as Avatar of Lust on it.” Satan spoke up.

“I see, if that’s the case then I will permit you up to the human world to pay these women a visit. Make sure they suffer, all three of you.” The warmth in his voice, his eyes, now replaced with a cold tone and a wrathful look, absolutely enraged that a demon not just under his rule, but in his cabinet no less had been assaulted in this manner. He may have failed in protecting the Avatar of Greed from this but he would see to it that a crime this grave never happened again to one of his subjects. “I’d would go in your stead to deal with them myself, but I will stay behind and work to pass legislation to ban the making of pacts freely. This will not happen again; I swear it on my life and my throne.”

And with Diavolo’s permission the three Avatars were off, out for blood for the travesty that befell their brother. Once they were gone, Diavolo turned to his butler.

“Barbatos, did you foresee this at all? Was there not anything we could have done differently to prevent this?” For as angry as he is, the demon lord feels a certain sense of guilt for what happened to the white-haired demon. What kind of ruler cannot protect one of his subjects from something so heinous?

“In another reality, yes.” He nodded, “But never in this one specifically, my Lord.”

“What happens next?”

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The three Avatars stand outside the residence of the witches. Lucifer is the first to step forward, demon form manifesting from the wrath coursing through his being. The aura he emits is suffocating to all around him. A knock on the door is all the courtesy he plans to give them tonight.

When the door opens, there is a collective gasp.

“L-Lord Lucifer,” One of the sisters steps back as the three demons barge their way inside the building. “To what do we owe the honor of this visit from not only you, but your younger brothers as well?”

“Do not. DO NOT ACT AS IF YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU’VE DONE TO OUR BROTHER!” Satan roars, his demon for making its appearance. He’s ready to go on the attack however it’s Lucifer that stops him with a simple wave of the hand.

“We know everything you’ve done.” The eldest’s voice is cold, gaze calculated. “You’ve not only laid a hand on one of my brothers, but my favorite one at that. That in and of itself is enough to warrant your deaths, but to cause him such suffering will ensure they are not quick.

With another wave of his hand, the Avatar of Pride bound the three women before letting his brothers have a go at the other two. The eldest was his.

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Asmo took a step into his brother’s room and was devastated to see the look on his brother’s face. He looked so broken; his cheeks soaked with tears as Asmo heard Arella speaking.

“You don’t have to do it if you’re not strong enough for it. I’m sure there are alternatives we could find if you can’t. Just remember, you’re not alone in this. We all will help you if you decide to go through with this.”

The demon’s curiosity was piqued. Just what we’re they talking about?

“’Rella, I can’t ask that of any of you. This is my punishment for bein’ so powerless.”

Asmodeus cleared his throat to gain her their attention.

“What are you two talking about? Did something else happen?”

Arella only picked up the phone and handed it to him. What he saw was enough to pull a gasp from the demon. It made him sick.

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As soon as it had begun, the torture was over. None of the three brothers had even broken a sweat at this point. The witches hadn’t even lasted that long. Blood and viscera coat the floor, bones stick out from odd places, one has pieces missing from her body here and there- bite marks and missing flesh, even a missing arm- all courtesy of the Avatar of Gluttony.

“Beel, are you hungry or has anger tided your hunger?”

“I'm famished,” The Avatar of Gluttony confirmed.

“Go ahead and dispose of their bodies then. Make sure no trace of them remains.” The Avatar of Pride nods to his younger brother.

It was then that they heard it- the screaming cry of a frightened baby. The sound was easy to miss over the shrieking and wailing- the pleas for mercy that would never come. One by one, their heads turned to the sound just upstairs as they all came to terms with the fact that a child had been born from this travesty.

Satan was the first to move as he climbed the stairs. Just off to the right was a tiny nursery and lying in the crib, he found the child. All of his instincts were screaming at him to do away with the infant. He almost did had it not been for Lucifer’s hand placed on his shoulder. They were soon joined by Beel as all three of them peered down at the tiny child below them.

“What do we do?” Beel asked.

“Do we take them with us? Or do we leave them to the proverbial wolves?”

Both brothers looked to the eldest, demanding an answer. For the first time, the Avatar of Pride doesn’t have the answer. Does he take the life of an innocent child or does he subject his brother to a lifetime of suffering? It's an impossible decision to make where either party ultimately loses in the end.

Lucifer reaches down and takes the infant into his arms, a pained look on his face as he scrutinizes the infant’s appearance. Suddenly, he’s flashing back to his time as an angel, back to the first time he ever held Mammon in his arms. The child is an exact carbon copy of their father, no apparent features from his mother or her sisters, this was the best case scenario, but the little one looks sickly- likely due to the lack of demonic influence that would have been received from their father had he been present during the pregnancy.

Finally, after remaining silent for what felt like eternity Lucifer spoke up. “The child doesn’t look long from this world. We’ll wait for morning. If they survive the night, we’ll take them with us- let Mammon decide what to do with them.”

The other two nodded as Beel went back downstairs to finish the meal he had started.

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“You don’t have to take him, Mammon.” Asmo kept staring at the photo on his brother’s D.D.D. as he spoke.

“He has no one else, Asmo,” The white-haired demon frowns. “I can’t just leave him to die and it’s not like I can just give ‘im away either. As much as I hate it, he’s the heir to everything I am- the next Avatar of Greed, the next ruler of the fourth layer. It’ll be hard at first, but I’ll force myself to look past what happened to me. This isn’t his fault, so why punish him for the crimes of his mother and her sisters? He’s innocent in all this.”

“Even now,” the Avatar of Lust chuckled sadly, “after all these years, you still have the heart of an angel, don’t you? You aren’t thinking about what this will do to you, are you? He’ll be a constant reminder of your trauma. Is that really fair to you?”

“It isn't, but when has life ever been fair? If life was fair, we wouldn’t ’ve lost Lilith- wouldn't ‘ve fallen from the Celestial Realm.” He wiped at his eyes.

“No. It’s not, but I still think this is a bad idea for you. None of us will stop you if this is what you want to do but you shouldn’t do it just out a sense of obligation.” Asmo placed a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “You should only keep him if you want to.”

At the look of resignation on Mammon’s face, Arella placed a hand on his back. “We’re here if you need us. If it gets to be too much, I can help care for him, okay?” She echoes the words she had said previously.

“Babe, you don’t-”

“I know I don’t, but I want to.” She smiled softly. “We’re in this together. All of us.” She looked to the strawberry blonde demon as he nodded in agreement.

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Satan sat in the rocking chair next to the crib while Lucifer was on the phone notifying Diavolo of the situation as well as speaking to Arella in regards to the baby. He studied his nephew, wondering just what might happen to the little boy. Over the hours since finding him here, the tiny half-demon seemed to be getting stronger- likely from just being in the presence of his brothers and him. It was apparent that the child would be coming with them. He wondered what his brother’s reaction would be to the infant. Demons were known to kill unwanted offspring out of panic.

It was the circle of life, the blonde supposed. Not what the child deserved, but if it led to that, there was really nothing anyone could do. He was drawn from his thoughts as quiet chirps sounded from the boy. He watched as the infant brought his little hand to his mouth and he started squirming in the mass of blankets he was swaddled in.

The Avatar of Wrath looked around for a bottle or really anything that could be a source of nourishment. Of course, the newborn would get hungry eventually- that's essentially all babies at this age, eat and sleep. The demon finally finds a mini fridge on the wall opposite the crib, right next to the changing table. He had never fed a baby before but he would be willing to try as long as it kept the boy satisfied and kept him from crying. A trial by fire as they say.

Rocking the infant carefully, he slowly got up and retrieved a bottle from the fridge. It was a lot smaller than he thought an infant should take but it was good enough for the time being. Thankfully there was a bottle warmer placed on a nightstand near the crib. He placed it inside, setting the temperature at that of a human’s normal body temperature. When the milk was sufficiently heated, he gave it to the child who then suckled it down rather quickly,

“Hey now, there’s no need to suck it down so fast. You'll choke if you’re not careful.”

Lucifer had rejoined at him at this point. The scene of his brother trying so hard to feed the baby almost made him chuckle. “I can take him, if you’d like, Satan.”

“Please, I really don’t know how to do this.” He pulled the bottle away so he could transfer the child to his older brother.

“It won’t be long until the dawn. Gather up some of his things as we’ll be taking him with us. I just got off the phone with Arella. She told me Mammon plans on keeping the him.” Lucifer only sighed, wondering if the Avatar of Greed was only doing this out of a sense of obligation and responsibility.

Green to yellow gradient eyes widen in surprise at the statement. “He’s planning on keeping him? I figured he wouldn’t want anything to do with the baby.”

“As did I but, for all of our brother’s flaws, he’s still genuinely a good person. I don’t think he can really leave behind someone who needs him- especially an innocent child.” Lucifer looks down at the child who has now finished the bottle. “Hand me a rag.”

“Why?”

“Well, I would prefer not to be spat up on and now that he’s finished eating, he needs to be burped.” The eldest moved the infant to rest against his shoulder as Satan handed him the nearest rag he could find. “Babies aren’t capable of burping on their own. Now, go gather his things. I’ll tend to him for the time being."

Next

Masterlist 2

[shini--chan]

I love you're writing skills! How would be the reader react when she travel the time back so like the 1600 in England?. And England would she see her in modern clothes. She want go back to her time(2020). Im so sorry for my bad English

Thank you, that is very sweet of you. Also don’t worry – your English probably isn’t as bad as you think.

If you want to see anything else set in that period, go and check that Pirate AU! Post. Now on to this here.

Yandere England – 1600s/Timetravler

Whether you would like it or not, you would find yourself hurtling through time and landing in England during the 17th century. Right in Puritan England to be precise, literally the worst decade to land into right after ending up in the middle of a battle. You would be wandering the countryside, in total confusion as well as in complete panic. That would be how Arthur would find you. He would be heading back home, utterly disgruntled by the state of affairs that he would have to suffer under. Then he would notice you, an alien entity by all means, in your strange clothing and foreign manners. First, he would consider just leaving you to your fate (which could be very gruesome) as the loon you would appear to be to him. Then he would remember the supposed Christian values of hospitality and altruism and approach you to take you home with him.

You would be both relieved and frightened to see somebody approach you. Through his clothing it would dawn upon you that you were really in the past. Despite fearing being deemed a witch or being interrogated or suffering from any other fate that would cross your mind, you would know that you would need help. The moment Arthur would open his mouth to inquire about you, the final nail would be hammered in the coffin. The Old English that would meet your ears would be absolute proof that was once history would be your present. A notion that would be affirmed when Arthur’s face would wrinkle in confusion when you would use your English.

Your strange use of his language would confuse, but would nevertheless ring a bell in the back of his mind. It would remind him how English had developed over the centuries. Would your way of using it just be a natural result of further evolution, hence making you a … timetravler? That would be at least what you would be trying to convey over the language barrier. Arthur would be sceptical at first, wanting to rule out all other possibilities before believe you. If you’d think him to be a fool, then you’d have something else coming. Then you’d try to use evidence to convince him.

Quickly, he grabbed the strange thing you were holding out to him. After giving you a brief mistrusting look, he would take a few steps away from you. A paranoid bastard as ever, he turned to stand in such a way that you couldn’t see everything he was doing while keeping an eye on you.

The thing that you handed to him was unlike anything he had ever seen before. It was rectangular and slim, smooth with its dark glass and opaque surfaces. He glimpsed his own cruel visage in the reflection. Was it nothing more than a strange mirror?

Then he went on to inspect the sides, the tips of his fingers finding a few elevations in the material. Curious, he pressed one of them …

… and nearly dropped it when the dark glass promptly lit up and it emitted a strange sound. You yelled besides him, suddenly directly at his side since your device had been endangered. He was sure that hadn’t his reflexes been so quick, then he would have to defend himself against a very enraged stranger. Instead, you glare at him, as irritated as you were, and tried to snatch your thing back.

Agitated by your action in turned, Arthur roughly pushed you away, sending you sprawling to the ground. You cussed at him, the aggressor recognising a few of the swears you tossed at him but not finding himself bothered enough to respond and instead staring at the picture that had manifested.

There was a colourful background, the nuances and lines and shadows showing a painting that was far more realistic then any he had ever seen before. In front of it, a series of number shined at him. One set was probably the time, he deduced, while the other was most likely the date from how it was written.

2021 …

That was nearly 400 hundred years in the future. He looked at you, observed how you had picking stones out of your scraped and bleeding palms.

Despite your disagreeable demeanour, you would likely prove very useful to him.

He would promptly take you with him, trying his best to convey to you through gestures and miss-matched words that he would only want to help you. If you prove define, then he would coerce you into following him by taking your smartphone hostage. Once you would calm down, then you would rationalize that this would probably be the best option you could receive and concede his wishes.

Arthur would keep you in his house, ensure that all the servants would steer clear from the rooms he would house you in, and gradually butter up to you, with all intentions of drawing the details of his future out of you. Other than that, he would intently observe you, knowing that the behavioural patter say a lot about a person, and in extension, give clues about the environment they grew up in. And needly to say, he would be very surprised by some things.

“You know, it is the third time you demand to be allowed to wash yourself this week. Don’t you think you are going too far? There is miasma in the water, and if you continue like this, not only will you render yourself a fool, but you’ll also become sick”, he chided you as he watched you hauled a bucket up the stairs.

As weak as you were, you were struggling with your heavy load, evidence to the lack of physical labour you had done in your life. It made Arthur ask himself if everybody in the future would be as weak and spoiled as you are, or if you were just the exception.

Either way, while manners and etiquette called for him to ease your burden which you evidently couldn’t manage on your own, he found the sight of you straggling up the flight of cold stone steps far too amusing to intervene.

With trembling arms, your set down the bucket and stared at him, eyes shooting daggers up at him. “In case you didn’t know, it is dirt that actually makes people sick. It is cleanliness that prevents infection. Which is why you would do well to wash daily as well!”

With a frown, Arthur picked up his shirt to sniff it. In his opinion, he didn’t stink, so he didn’t see what you were making such a fuss about. He was also sure he had understood you correctly – the two of you had managed to sort out things to the extent that you could communicate fairly well.

“I think that changing underclothing daily and bathing once a month to be sufficient. And now, before you say anything, be sure to keep your attitude in check. I’ve had more than enough of it”, he told you.

He watched your face wrinkle and swore he heard you mutter: “Damn patriarchy and its superiority complex.”

He didn’t know whether to be alarmed about your very simplistic, black-and-white view of the world and your grievous oversimplifications of the current era or be amused about how you thought you knew everything. Either way, he would have to take your words about the future with a grain of salt – who knew just how skewed your recounts would be.

“I fail to see how this has to do with that. The matter at hand is about the guest treating the host with respect, expected courtesy allowing humans to live together. I could put you out on the streets if you keep being a brat”, he countered.

You grasped the handle once more, water spilling over the rim as you picked it up with both hands. “We both know that you wouldn’t do that. You value me too much.”

And oh, in what ways he was beginning to value you.

For one, he would detest how condescending you would be, due to having all the knowledge of the next centuries and all the benefits that would come with it. Yet, he would bare most of it. When he wouldn’t, he’d let his sharp-tongue and centuries worth of life experience come to light. He would mock you for your nativity and prod at you for being coddled and accustomed to yet-to-be luxuries.

Arthur would tell you that he would put effort in finding a way to send you back to your own time. That would be a shameless lie. He wouldn’t be interested in anything of the sort. Rather he would insist on you staying with him, to help him further his imperial ambitions. Besides, you would be the most interesting and riveting thing that would have happened to him in ages. He would quickly grow attached to you, and with you having nobody else than him (he would ensure that) in a harsh and foreign world of which you would truly know little, you would find yourself relying on him.

He might tell you that he is a personification. Secrets for secrets, after all. And with him providing proof of his semi-immortality and the absurdity of time travel having happened you would be inclined to believe him. England would also tell you that if you would return to your own time, he would be sure to seek you out, so that you can be back together again. Besides rising alarm bells in your head, you would find yourself asking just how much of the timeline you would end up altering with the scrapes of information that he would wheedle out of you.

[cherubchoirs]

you said you like song suggestions so while im too nervous to send the full playlists ive made for them. i do want to share at least some of the songs ive associated w ur aus, namely the sc au and bad end one. so um. i have "those who carried on" on both playlists, and on the bad end au one its accompanied by "chattering lack of common sense", both by ghost and pals! obviously "honey i'm home" is on both of them but you've already heard that one...i in part associate it w the sc au as well because it still has the whole thing of. "this is god and he's going to remake the world as he sees fit" and idk it just...vibes with it in my opinion. some of my favourites from the sc au playlist ive made is also just the...three? songs i think fit that akira from the kagerou project: shounen brave, mekakushi code, and additional memory (tw suicide imagery, i think its more obvious in the video than just the lyrics) and i can go into my thought process on any of them if u want!!!

HELL YEA....SONGS......and all my rambling thoughts under a read more!

"those who carried on" is so good for both aus, and i think of it as what bad end akira achieved while for sc akira it's more about his striving. just that opening, it really makes me think of how be akira really did do everything he could and he ultimately sold his soul because after working himself to near death and losing all of his friends for his trouble, the world turned its back on him. so ultimately he couldn't fit in, he didn't have a place despite how hard he had fought for the victims of the world, and he took yaldabaoth's hand instead. sc akira is much more damned from the start, but in his own way he's trying to fix the world - he truly believes yaldabaoth is better for humanity, that ripping free will from the masses is the only way to keep everyone safe and "happy".

"a chattering lack of common sense" is just SO be akira, honestly each line suits him really well sjdhfdf it evokes how he sees through all of humanity and their shadows, how masks no longer exist for anyone...except himself. it also makes me think of how be akira pantomimes his old life, empty repetitions of what he once did devoid of meaning but making him think there's something wrong, that he shouldn't be who he is (it often comes as "who i am now"...but he can't work it out, since he was born this way....right?) truly, be akira is always at least a bit off kilter, never quite feeling right, and this song really works for that constant nagging sensation.

"shounen brave" really hits me for sc akira...i really have this idea that when he first escapes, he sort of thinks, in the back of his mind, that maybe his suffering is over. akira is a very hopeful character to me, and i think even in this swap au he initially has the thought of "maybe others will be better". the researchers hurt him so badly and yal insists humanity is deeply corrupt, but for just a moment, akira thinks he might be ok. and then. no one helps him. he's a lost child either ignored or treated as a strange nuisance since he can't interact well with others. it hits him that the world has no place for him...and he holds that so deep in his heart until he meets goro and i 😭

"mekakushi code" gives me BIG black mask vibes - he very much treats what he does as a job without any real emotional attachment, but he derives a lot of satisfaction from what he's able to achieve with his power. his kills aren't charged events but there's something incredibly fulfilling for him in what he's done with the suffering he endured, how he gained this much raw strength from his torture. he sometimes uses that feeling to convince himself that it was all worth it (even if he doesn't really believe that).

(suicide tw for the discussion of this last song)

-

"additional memory" goes into akira's internal turmoil and while i don't talk about it explicitly a lot, he struggles mightily with suicidal ideation. it's probably the one thing that truly frightens yaldabaoth, as when akira gets to a particularly bad place...the computer could do little to save him if he chose to do something. i think those feelings really do reach a head around christmas, to the point where he knows he either wants to see yaldabaoth's world realized or he wants to die with his only friend. because really. either yal wins or the thieves destroy him, so akira has all or nothing now. he doesn't see a way out with them, he doesn't believe goro could ever love him and so his life is entirely, irreversibly tied to yaldabaoth's then. it's what roots him to the spot in mementos, thoughts too entrenched in the idea that he can never love properly or be wanted by another human in any capacity. it's his bleakest point in a life that's already been brought so low.

SO......those are all my thoughts!!!! and i would definitely love to hear yours on these choices because i really loved all of them aaaaaa

[starkerscoop]

Vacant Mind (Ch. 1)

Tag List: @thatrandomsomnia @longlivestarker @geen-beems @consciencecoward @aoifelaufeyson @rebel13lion39 @katzenbaby1  @helaisthequeen @im-a-goner-foryou @hornvey @darker-soft-starker  @nerdylocksandthethreebears @canreadbutcannotwrite @carelessannie @bluestarker @briesb1tch @skimparker @idiyeet @blushing-starker-queen @buckettbarnes

Let me know if you want to be removed from the tag list, or added to it. The first three chapters of this fic are being reuploaded from my old blog, so that everyone can access them from this one. If you don’t want to be tagged for the first three chapters, but do want to be tagged for the remaining ones, let me know. 

Let the “didn’t know they were dating” fic commence... again

- 

Peter trudged through the streets, biting back a groan whenever the bustling passerby would bump into him. He felt hot, unnaturally so, and the sweat plastering his hair to the nape of his neck did nothing to cool him down. He wondered dimly when it had gotten so warm. The snow at his feet clung to his shoes, reminding him of the chill he was meant to be feeling, but he only felt uncomfortable in his jacket.

He shrugged it off, allowing the cold air to encompass his heated body. He stuffed the jacket into his backpack as he walked, and caught sight of the Spider-Man suit nestled at the bottom of the bag. Any excitement he might have had at the prospect of patrolling was replaced by dread. He was too tired to patrol, but saving lives was a job he took seriously, and so he ducked into an alley and donned his suit.

Karen switched on the heater in his suit the moment he put it on, and Peter barely restrained his complaints. Karen was programmed to keep the heater on in temperatures below 55℉, and had been ever since Tony found out that Peter couldn’t thermoregulate. If he switched it off, Karen would notify Tony, who would then badger him until he confessed that he wasn’t feeling well.

It was a protocol that Peter had thought was sweet when it was first installed. It made him feel like Tony cared about him beyond making sure he didn’t die in battle. Now, it was a thorn in his side.

Peter could only endure the additional warmth for two hours. In that time, he stopped a robbery, helped a man find his dropped hearing aid, and returned a lost dog to its crying owner.

By the time he arrived home and pulled off the suit, his body was slick all over with sweat, and his cheeks were flushed with a deeper red than he’d ever seen. He staggered over to his shower, pushing aside the curtain and falling in. He groped around the shower blindly until his hands caught the knob, which he twisted desperately until cold water started running down his face. He grasped the wall and stumbled to his feet, swaying in place as he let the water rinse off his sweat.

His head felt faint, and as his eyes roved over the stall in search of his shampoo, his vision started filling with black spots. Peter reached for his shampoo bottle once he found it, but lost his balance and fell towards it. His head smacked into the wall, and he was out like a light.

-

A hand combed through his hair, gently tugging and undoing the knots in it. Peter leaned into the comforting touch, an entirely different warmth to the one he’d been suffering from earlier filling his chest. The hand paused its ministrations, but didn’t pull away.

“Are you waking up?” a hushed voice murmured by his ear.

Peter struggled to open his eyes. His eyelids felt heavy, refusing to do anything other than twitch, and so he stared into darkness as the hand in his hair resumed its motion. He relaxed into the bed, giving up for the moment. He let himself drift in the darkness, the hand on his head his only tether to reality.

“It’s alright,” the same voice sighed fondly. “You do like your beauty sleep. Don’t worry, Pete. I’ll still be here when you wake up.”

Peter let himself slip away further at the assurance. He felt safe in the presence of that voice, warm and loving as it was.

The darkness wasn’t all that frightening now.

-

The steady beeping of the machine at Peter’s side roused him from his sleep. He shuffled in place a little as he craned his neck to the left, where he was met with a heart monitor that sounded in time with his heart. He swallowed thickly, wondering how he’d landed himself in the Med-Bay again.

“How are you feeling?”

Peter jumped in surprise, his head swivelling to the other side, where Tony was perched on a chair and watching him earnestly.

“I’m okay,” Peter took a moment to survey himself. “I have a small headache, but other than that, I’m fine.”

“Good,” Tony said, before his expression hardened. “Now, what were you thinking when you decided to patrol with a fever of 104 degrees?”

Peter groaned. “I didn’t think it was that bad.”

“You fell and hit your head in the shower,” Tony stressed. “What if you’d fallen while swinging? I doubt you’d have gotten away with only a headache if you fell thirty stories.”

Peter’s lips turned downward when he noticed the fear hidden behind the anger in Tony’s expression. “I’m sorry for scaring you.”

Tony didn’t deny his fear, though he didn’t acknowledge it, either. “I’ll be adding more protocols to your suit. This isn’t happening again.”

Peter didn’t argue.

Tony’s shoulders lost some of their tension. “Are you hungry? I had someone restock the Jell-O.”

“Do you have red?” Peter’s face lit up.

Tony reached into the pockets of his slacks and brought out two cups of red Jell-O. He handed both to Peter, before setting a plastic spoon on top of them. Peter thanked him before peeling off the wrapper on one of the cups, and dunking his spoon into it. He scooped out a spoonful of the strawberry jelly and stuffed it into his mouth, paying no mind to the thin trail of it that trickled down his chin.

Tony swiped his thumb along Peter’s chin, clearing it of the jelly before sucking it into his own mouth. Peter dropped his spoon into his cup, watching with wide eyes until Tony pulled his thumb out of his mouth and cleaned it with a napkin.

“I’ll get someone to check you out and see if you can be discharged,” Tony patted his thigh as he stood. “Stay put, sweetheart.”

Peter’s jelly lay forgotten once Tony left. He had called him sweetheart. Just yesterday, Peter was trying to get him to drop the ‘kid’ moniker, and now he’d been upgraded to ‘sweetheart’? What had changed in the span of twenty-four hours?

When Tony came back, he was followed into the room by Dr. Althea Roberts, whom Peter was more than familiar with. Dr. Roberts treated him every time he ended up in the Med-Bay, and with how often he got injured, he got to know her well. Their friendship and Dr. Roberts’ talent in the medical field made her his favorite doctor.

“Mr. Parker,” she shook her head sternly. “What you pulled yesterday could’ve gotten you killed.”

“Yesterday?” Peter’s brows knitted together.

“You woke up a few times, but for the most part, you slept for a day,” Tony explained, taking a few steps back towards the door. “I’ll give you your privacy.”

Tony was leaving the room before Peter could tell him that he didn’t mind him hearing his conversation with Dr. Roberts. Still, he appreciated the space. Tony’s worry tended to morph into nosiness, the need to know everything wrong with his friends and rectify it driving him to budge his way into places he didn’t need to be in. Peter was glad to see him working on that — it was a byproduct of his anxiety, and one that Tony himself didn’t like.

Dr. Roberts started speaking as soon as the door swung closed. “You had a high fever. When you went to shower, you hit your head and got a concussion. If your head hurts, or you’re feeling confused, that’s normal and it will stop soon. You might experience some memory loss, but it shouldn’t be anything extreme. Any memories you might have lost will come back.”

“Okay,” Peter nodded to show he understood. “How did you find me in the shower? I was alone.”

“According to Mr. Stark, a friend of yours stopped by and found you in the shower. He called Mr. Stark, who brought you here to be treated.”

Dr. Roberts asked him some preliminary questions before giving him approval for a discharge. Once she finished speaking with him, she had a nurse come in and unhook him from all of the machines surrounding his bed. The nurse brought him the spare clothes he kept in the Med-Bay for when he’d inevitably need them, and he swapped his hospital gown for them. When he finished getting dressed, he exited the room he’d been staying in, and found Tony standing in the hallway with his phone in hand.

Tony slipped his phone into his pocket. “We can go now?”

“Yes,” Peter wrung his hands shyly. “Thank you for staying with me. You didn’t have to.”

A grim look settled over Tony’s face. “I needed to make sure you were okay.”

“I am okay, if that helps,” Peter offered.

Tony wrapped an arm over his shoulders, tugging him into his side as he led him to the reception counter he’d be discharged at. Peter tried not to sink into the touch, wanting to avoid giving away how much it pleased him to be so close to Tony, but he couldn’t help curling just a little bit closer.  

“It does.”

[vechkinfan]

Jack

A/n: I found this little one shot while I was looking through the deep dark depths of my google docs the other day and figured I might as well share it. Its a young Joker fic, and my fist time writing for the joker so please take it easy on me!😁

Pairing: Joker x OFC

Summary: A brief glimpse into the Jokers past, memories that he would rather keep buried, memories that reminded him of someone that held his heart. A heart that now burned for Gotham's reckoning.

Warnings: Talks of abuse, swearing, angst, vague talk of death

Jack found himself climbing the dirty, half rotten stairs of his apartment building. The light bulbs on every other floor, blown out or stolen, casting a darkness over him as he made his way up. 

His mother had one of her 'friends' as she liked to call them, over. So he made himself scarce for the afternoon, like he always managed to. Jack weaseled his way out of the apartment when those creeps were over. Especially the ones who would come right in and give him those looks. Those perverted sideways eyes when his mother was too plastered to notice any different. Looks that sent a piercing shiver across his whole body, and an uneasiness to settle in his gut.  He much preferred the men who would come over and pretended like he didn't exist. 

The sun had long since started to sink in the sky  as he climbed the stairs towards home and Jack knew he had to make it before the streetlights in the narrows started to flicker. The evil in his apartment was one thing, but the evils that lurched about once all the sunlight was extinguished in the sky was much more frightening. 

Rounding the last flight of stairs, his eyes landed on a girl  sitting at the top of them. Her back pressed against the door jam of the closest apartment door.  One foot stretched out in front of her blocking his path and the other bent, shaking vigorously on the next step down. 

She was sucking on a red popsicle, as her fingers drummed against the skin of her knee that poked free from a hole in her ratty jeans. 

Jack knew she just moved in a few months back, but he never crossed paths with her before now. However every time he opened the door to let in one of his mothers 'friends', she would be sitting at the top of those stairs. Usually a pack of playing cards in her hands, flicking them one by one, aimlessly down to the next landing. 

"What flavor is that?" Jack asked, curious at what her voice would sound like. He'd been intrigued by her presence the moment he saw her all those weeks ago. 

Pulling the half melted popsicle from her mouth, the girl turned her head slightly to gaze towards him. Her dark brown hair in a curly mess that covered half of her face, but not enough for Jack to miss the darkness of her left eye. It almost appeared black, the deep brown of her iris engulfing her pupil, giving her a truly ominous appearance. 

"Cherry." She answered, her voice nothing what he expected. It held a delicate raspiness, nowhere near the point where it matched Ms. Emerson two floors up who had been smoking 3 packs a day since the depression. There was a softness to it though, one that made Jack want to hear more from her.  "You live in the apartment cross from me don't you?" 

Nodding his head, Jack shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. "Sure do." 

She sat in silence after that, and he stood a few stairs below quietly staring at her. His feet shuffling against the creaky old floor board, wondering if this would be the end of their talk. Perhaps it'd be the last time they spoke at all. Jack knew the Narrows had people shuffling around from place to place, like one of them scam shell games. She very well could be gone by morning. 

 "I can bring you one next time…. If you want?" Swinging her leg around, she sat so she was facing him. Both feet planted one step down as she licked the red sugary liquid that was starting to drip down the wooden popsicle stick and onto the top of her hand. 

"I got two left in the freezer." Her voice was soft and held a nervousness that made fighting off a sly grin for Jack very difficult.  

"Yeah, I'd like that." Hustling up the stairs, Jack found himself sitting down beside her. 

His eyes getting a better glance at the girl, in the low light of the stairwell. Now he could tell she was using her hair to hide the right side of her face. Her right eye was an awful shade of purple, and the lid swollen so badly Jack knew she must be having a hard time seeing. 

As he let his eyes pan across her face, he noticed her lip that was stained with cherry popsicle was also busted open. The girl next to him seemed to have come from a similar home as himself. It was near luck that Jack hadn't gotten his ass handed to him by one of his mother friends in a while. Talking back was a habit that he couldn't quit no matter how much he was beaten for it. Not to mention the fit of laughter that usually escaped his thin lips as a belt or a fist swung in his direction didn't help either. 

"You got a name?" He asked, finally dragging his eyes back to meet her dark gaze. 

"Billy." 

Furrowing his brow and giving his head a subtle tilt, he wondered if she was fucking with him.

"That's a boy's name." He puffed out a small laugh. However the girl beside him didn't react at all. 

"I know, you don't gotta remind me." She shrugged her shoulders, before finishing off the popsicle and throwing the wood stick down the stairs. 

"It's  your nickname right?" Jack couldn't quite stop himself with the questions. Usually he kept to himself and avoided people, but she…  there was just something  different about her. Something that drew Jack in like a moth to a flame. 

He knew his interest was purely the result of her moving directly across the hall and appearing to be close to his age, if she had moved three flights up and was a little frilly girl, Jack was sure he wouldn't have even batted an eyelash in her direction as he carried on home. 

Shaking her head and rolling her eye, she was the one to laugh now. "No, my momma lost her first baby, who was a boy when he was real little. She ain't been right in the head since." Jack watched as she picked at the frayed edge of the side pocket of her faded army green vest while she spoke. "So when she found out she was having me, she just knew I was a boy. The doctors told her different, but she didn't really care what they thought. So she named me Billy." 

Shoving her hands into her vest pockets now, she quickly pulled out her deck of cards and began to shuffle them absentmindedly. 

"Billy's not a bad name, I mean there was Billy the kid that robbed banks in the old west right? Like some badass cowboy outlaw… Maybe one day I could live up to that name." Jack's eyes watched as she expertly flipped the cards against themselves, the loud noise filling the hallway. 

"Hate to break it to you, Billy the kid never robbed banks. He's just known for murdering people."

Peering up at him from the corner of her eye, her posture deflated, "Oh…." Billy sighed. 

They sat there in silence after that, Jack feeling some form of regret telling her about Billy the kid. The girl had seemed thrilled in her blissful unawareness, so happy with only a shared name that connected the two. Which was utterly ridiculous, and in any other circumstance Jack would have enjoyed watching the girls dreams come crashing down from the clouds. However it was like a small light had been snuffed inside of her and Jack hated that he caused that. Which blew his mind, cause why would he care about some girl he just met and her no good thoughts. She'd be gone in a few weeks, out of his life for good! The narrows would swallow her up just like it did the other kids, and he really shouldn't have cared. But he did on some level, and it fucking bothered him. 

"Billy where the fuck you at, you little piece of shit?" An angry voice screamed from just beyond the door she had been leaning against. The abruptness caused the girl to flinch and drop the stack of cards she was holding. 

They fell like dominos down the stairs, fluttering off in all sorts of directions. Making a fucking mess. 

Jack watched as she threw herself off the steps and down the stairs chasing after all the playing cards. "Fuck I'm gonna be in so much trouble." She muttered to herself as she frantically began the daunting task. 

Without much thought, Jack did something that surprised himself again. He stood up and grabbed a few of the cards that had fallen towards the top of the stairs. Bunching them together in his hand, before looking down at the Ace of hearts that was face up. The corner dog-eared like a well read book, from constant use probably. 

"I said where the fuck you at girl." A man ripped the door open to her apartment, and stumbled out. The stench of bad tequila filling the air almost immediately.

"I-im I'm sorry I…" Billy stuttered out as she crawled on the ground grabbing the last of the cards.  Her hands trembled bad enough that Jack could tell from where he stood that she was terrified. 

Eyeing the man cautiously, Jack saw him take a step closer to the edge of the stairs. His arm raised slightly, fingers twitching, ready to strike her hard when she finally made her way back to him. 

"Sorry, I tripped into Billy while I was coming down the steps. Made her drop her cards." Jack lied with a laugh, and held up the few in his hands. "I was just helping her pick them up." 

The drunken slob of a man, took a steadying breath, probably knowing he couldn't pummel a kid that wasn't his own. The man's overtly round face, covered in a patchy beard and a badly trimmed mustache that had the remnants of cheese puffs littered throughout it, gave Jack a nasty look. His lip turned up in pure disgust. 

"Yeah well watch where you fucking walk next time." He flicked his hand at Jack, and then turned his attention to Billy. Who was now standing up straight at the bottom of the landing, cards in hand. "You, " He pointed at her with a chubby accusatory finger, "pick up your goddamn mess and get in the house, and don't make me fucking tell you again." 

Jack watched as the man turned ungracefully on his heel and stumbled back from the pit in which he came. Slamming the door behind him with such power, some of the cracked plaster on the ceiling fell to the floor.

"You didn't have to lie." 

"I know." He heard her take a few hesitant steps up, until she was standing side by side with himself. "I ain't in the mood to watch an ass kicking at the moment." He couldn't stop the tiny laugh that escaped him at his own humorless joke. 

Tilting his head towards Billy, he finally held out the few cards that he managed to collect. She greedily took them back into her possession, and Jack watched as the girl seemed to be counting them to herself. Her fingers flipping past each number making sure they were all accounted for. 

"Thank you." Her voice was softer than anything Jack had ever heard as she finished what she was doing and tucked the cards back into her vest pocket. 

"He hit you a lot?" Jack asked aloud, as the girl pushed past him and towards her apartment door. 

Shrugging her shoulders, Billy nodded her head. "Not as much as my real dad did, so I'm lucky enough. I know some kids got it worse than me, so I'm not complaining."

"Lucky?" He quirked a brow at her choice of words. Luck was nowhere to be seen in the Narrows, especially not in that girls apartment. 

Perhaps the girl had been struck in the head so many times it actually made her dense. It wouldn't be a surprise to him if that was the case, because no one, and he meant no one, would ever call themselves lucky with the life she seemingly led. 

"You got to believe in something, right?" She smirked. "Luck seems more plausible than some god or a superhero saving me. Plus I got this." Reaching back into her pocket the girl drew out a single card, and quickly flicked it over to him.

Jack caught it and huffed an amused laugh. His eyes falling upon the joker card that belonged to her deck. The jester was skillfully juggling three knives while he balanced with one foot on a large green and purple circus ball. The character itself was off putting, his face painted white, his lips smudged with red paint  that made his maniacal grin even more pronounced. His jester hat constructed out of oddly colored rattlesnakes, multiple wrapped around one another to give its iconic shape. Their rattling tails hung as the bells at the tips. It was clearly far from the typical playing card one could get at the Bodega down the block. 

"It's my lucky card, bad things don't happen as often when I have it on me." 

Jack couldn't help but continue to stare at it. The wheels in his mind spun endlessly with hundreds of questions, but he knew he'd never have time to get them answered. She was on borrowed time as it was, and he didn't want to hold her up further. Cause if he did, the girl probably wouldn't be able to see at all next time he ran into her. The guy inside, smashing her other eye to the point it was swelled shut as well. 

Looking up into her eyes, Jack attempted to hand it back. But Billy just shook her head at him. 

"You keep it, it's the least I can do after you saved my ass. Maybe it will bring you some luck." She smiled at him before turning and opening her apartment door making her exit. 

"If you give me this, won't your luck be gone?" His words stopped her in her tracks. But all Jack could focus on was her soft laughter.

Without turning to face him, she pulled another card free from her pocket, twisting it expertly between two fingers so the face of it was in Jack's direction. An inverted match to the very card that he held in his hands. "There's always two jokers." 

Just as quick as she pulled it free, Billy shoved it back into her pocket, "See you around." She chuckled before disappearing into her apartment. Leaving Jack alone in the stairwell, staring quizzically at the place the girl once was. His lip twitching up in amusement, before he shook his head clear of their encounter. 

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

The joker cracked an eye open as he startled awake. It was a rare occurrence in recent years that his dreams would startle him out of sleep. That was only reserved for a specific time in his life, and that was not now anymore. 

His half sleep blurred vision instantly focused on the ever growing water stain that was spreading across the ceiling tiles. It's dark brownish edges tainting the once white paint, giving the already run down room a greater sense of abandonment. 

His hand stretched out wantingly, his long fingers gripping into the cool sheets of the spot next to him. The spot that had been vacant for many years now. An emptiness that slowly consumed him in absolute sorrow, and then engulfed him in a burning rage, no one could ever put out. 

It was a pain that radiated through the Joker like a poison when his mind traveled to her. Pleading for him to remember, remember a time when things were pleasant. When she was by his side, and in his bed, places he could keep her safe. 

But he couldn't, the day Gotham took her from him was the day its reckoning started. They would all pay, every last one of them.

[faeroviolet]

IMPORTANT NOTE:

I'm not in the mood to do this with the original characters. That's why I'm doing this with their versions of my AU: MargeantAU. So each work won't be just a art, but a plot part. Although this ship is not canon.

Day 1: "There’s a first time for everything"[FNK week(MG edit)]

Credit: challenge by @help-im-a-gay-fish Nightmare by jokublog Ccino by black-nyanko Killer by rahafwabas MargeantAU by me

Fluffynightkiller is not a canon, but it's cute.

Once... I'll write a fanfic about how they met. It will be such angsty blood angst, and I have already thought out its plot uwu

And for today's prompt, I have not only art, but a story to it.

(I want to warn you that I am not responsible in any way for what is written below. So read, don't read, I don't care. There may also be some mistakes here, because I wrote this right now.)

This is the story of how Nightmare and Killer decided to have a picnic for the shitty Ccino, who hasn't slept for a whole week. They should have kicked his ass for treating himself so badly, but his health is already bad, so they decided to scold him later. Now it was important to help him get some rest, maybe even he would get some sleep.

Interesting, but this will be their first time together after entering a relationship. Despite the fact that Killer and Nightmare were already in a relationship between each other, this didn't interfere with them. They were both madly in love with Ccino, he sunk into their souls. However, this wasn't so surprising considering who he is. Although his abilities didn't affect this. It was just love. Delicate and strong. Able to make them do anything for a fragile miracle.

Now they were just passing near the hometown of their beloved. They decided to have a picnic in here because it would be difficult and suspicious to do near Sunapple. Having found a suitable field and a place near the tree(so that there was a shade if it gets hotter), they began to unfold. Nightmare, who carried a purple velvet carpet with yellow fringes all the way, laid it out here. And Killer, waiting for him to finish, then put the basket on it.

You ask: why a carpet? It's just that nothing else was found in the castle. And Nightmare didn't want to ask Dream to help in this.

"Do you think he will like the food?" Killer asked, sitting down next to the basket.

"Hmm... maybe he'll eat the cheese and ham sandwiches." Nightmare said thoughtfully, leaning his elbows on a tree trunk. "As for souls, I don’t know. He rarely talks about this, as well as about his preferences, trying to avoid difficult topics."

"And that's true. But... we took different variations." Killer nodded. "I hope Horror won't be offended that we robbed him like that."

"He won't dare." Nightmare said seriously. "I am your 'patron' and you have no right to contradict me. So if he is unhappy, he will not be able to do anything."

Without answering, Killer only directed his gaze towards the forest. They have already informed their loved one that they will come. And oddly enough, he agreed to a meeting. Therefore, all that remained was to wait.

They didn't wait long: a familiar face appeared from the trunk. Although the face was familiar, this face only wished for the best. The huge gray spots didn't adorn this skeleton much. But the guys didn't know how to make him stop torturing himself like that, but they could only help to heal. Even so.

They went to meet Ccino, who decided to please them with his smile. Although with "something" under his eye sockets, this smile could hardly please them. But Nightmare and Killer weren't angry, they just took him and led him to their picnic area. When he was just grabbed and dragged to the tree, Ccino became a little embarrassed and covered with a faint blush.

"Here, Cсino, we brought sandwiches and some fruit." Nightmare said, pointing to a basket containing said foods. "Only... we didn't know what kind of soul you wanted..."

"S-soul?!" He roused himself, displaying horror on his face. Ccino didn’t like it, even though he was also a demon, but he didn’t like to feed on souls. After that, he always feels bad. Well, as if he didn't use them either. Such a tangled loop constantly comes out. "I...I...I..."

Cсino began to breathe quickly and covered his face with his hands, hiding the tears flowing from his eye sockets. And Nightmare, very frightened, just froze in place like a statue, not knowing what to do. Just not that - to upset him. He didn't expect that this is such... a deep and painful topic for him.

However, there was still a way out in this situation. And Killer found him. While Nightmare stood like an idol, he walked a little further into a field where many flowers grew. He collected a couple of flowers and weaved three wonderful wreaths. Yes, he could do it, and there was nothing surprising in it. After all, he learned this from his mother, whom he loved very much.

When he returned, Killer tried to bring the guys to his senses. First, he lifted Ccino, who didn't resist at all, but still was not fine. He brought Night out of his stupor by patting him on the shoulder.

"Wear." In a commanding tone, Killer turned to his Lord, holding out a flower decoration.

"A-are you... kidding me?!" Such insolence pissed off Nightmare. Forgetting about what was happening, he was ready to commit a rash act, but...

"For Ccino's sake."

Only this made the Lord of Dark senses, startled, to stop raging. He turned his gaze to Ccino, who was nearby, and gritting his teeth agreed.

"Okay." He took a cute little wreath and decorated his skull with it, blushing like a tomato, and then, pouting, sat down on the carpet. Oh, it was even cutier than the wreath itself! Was Nightmare so embarrassed by such simple gifts, Killer thought. But now is not about that. Ccino should have been reassured.

"Ccino, look at Nightmare." Killer shook him and looked into almost empty eyes. Still, Ccino paid attention and looked in the direction in which he was indicated. "Isn't he handsome? Especially in this wreath! Do you want the same? Do you like flowers?"

"The w-wreath?" He quietly raised his voice. "I love flowers, collecting them, they're beautiful. And, unfortunately, I don't know how to weave wreaths, and-"

"O! Then I can teach you later. Now... would you mind sitting next to that glowing mean bean, and I will reward you with the most beautiful crown in the world?"

"Umm... O-okay." Ccino staggered a little to the indicated place and settled down next to another skeleton.

Killer jumped up to him like a bunny, and he was already holding a wreath prepared especially for Ccino. He put it on a cute skeleton that blushed very hard in the process. It was amusing.

Killer didn't deprive himself either. Now all three were in flowers. Together. They will have something to remember. But the main thing was that Ccino liked it.

Это история о том, как Найтмер и Киллер решили устроить пикник для чертова Чино, который не спал уже целую неделю. Им бы следовало надрать ему задницу за такое плохое отношение к себе, но его здоровье и так плохое, поэтому они решили отругать его позже. Сейчас было важно помочь ему немного отдохнуть, может даже он и поспит хоть чуть-чуть.

Интересно, но это будет их первое времяпровождение вместе после вступления в отношения. Несмотря на то, что Киллер и Найтмер и так были в отношениях между друг другом, это не мешало им. Они оба безумно любили Чино, он запал им в душу. Однако это было не так удивительно, учитывая, кем он является. Хотя его способности на это и не влияли. Это была просто любовь. Нежная и крепкая. Способная заставить их сделать все ради хрупкого чуда.

Сейчас они как раз проходили около родного города их возлюбленного. Они решили устроить пикник в здесь, потому что это было бы сложно и подозрительно делать возле Санапли. Найдя подходящую полянку и место возле дерева(чтобы был тенёк, если станет печь), они стали раскладываться. Найтмер, который всю дорогу нес фиолетовый бархатный ковер с желтой бахромой, разложил его здесь. А Киллер, ожидающий того, как тот закончит, потом положил на него корзинку.

Вы вот спросите: почему ковер? Просто в замке ничего более не нашлось. А просить Дрима в этом помочь Найтмер не желал.

- Как ты думаешь, а ему понравится еда? - спросил Киллер, усаживаясь рядом с корзиной.

- Хм... может сэндвичи с сыром и колбаcкой он съест - задумчиво проговорил Найтмер, облокотившись на ствол дерева. - А по поводу душ - не знаю. Он редко говорит об этом, как и о своих предпочтениях, пытаясь избежать тяжелых тем.

- И то верно. Но... мы же разные взяли - кивнул Киллер. - Надеюсь Хоррор не обидится, что мы его так обокрали.

- А он не посмеет - серьезно сказал Найтмер. - Я ваш "покровитель" и вы не имеете право перечить мне. Так что будь он недоволен - сделать ничего не сможет.

Не ответив, Киллер лишь направил свой взор в сторону леса. Они уже сообщили их любимому, что придут. И как ни странно, тот согласился на встречу. Поэтому оставалось лишь ждать.

Ждали они не долго: из ствола показалось знакомое личико. Хоть личико и было знакомым, но вид у этого личика желал лишь лучшего. Огромные такие серые следы не слишком украшали этого скелета. Но ребята не знали, как заставить того прекратить себя так истязать, но могли лишь помочь исцелиться. Хотя бы так.

Они пошли на встречу Чино, который решил их обрадовать своей улыбкой. Хотя с "кое-чем" под его глазницами эта улыбка вряд ли могла их обрадовать. Но Найтмер и Киллер не сердились, они просто взяли и повели его к их обустроенному для пикника месту. Когда того схватили просто так и потащили к дереву, Чино немного засмущался и покрылся слабым румянцем.

- Вот, Чино, мы принесли сэндвичи и некоторые фрукты - сказал Найтмер, указывая на корзинку, в которой хранятся указанные продукты. - Только... мы не знали, какие бы ты души хотел...

- Д-души?! - встрепенулся тот, отобразив на лице ужас. Чино не любил это, хоть он тоже был демоном, но он не любил питаться душами. Ему поcле этого всегда плохо. Как и если бы он не употреблял их. Постоянно выходит такая запутанная петля. - Я... я... я...

Чино начал часто дышать и закрывать лицо руками, скрывая выступающие из глазниц слезы. А Найтмер, сильно перепугавшись, лишь застыл на месте как статуя, не зная, что и делать. Только этого не хватало - расстроить его. Это он совсем не ожидал, что это настолько... глубокая и больная тема для него.

Однако все же нашелся выход в этой ситуации. И нашел его Киллер. Пока Найтмер стоял как истукан, тот отошел чуть дальше на полянку где росло множество цветов. Насобирал парочку и сплел три чудесных венка. Да, он это умел, и в этом не было ничего удивительного. Ведь научился этому он от своей мама, которую очень любил.

Вернувшись, Киллер попытался привести ребят в себя. Сначала он поднял Чино, который совсем не сопротивлялся, но все ещё был не в порядке. Вывел из ступора Найта, похлопав того по плечу.

- Надень - приказным тоном Киллер обратился к своему повелителю, протягивая цветочное украшение.

- Т-ты что... издеваешься?! - такая дерзость вывела Найтмера из себя. Забывшись о происходящим, он был готов совершить опрометчивый поступок, но...

- Ради Чино.

Только это заставило Повелителя темных чувств, вздрогнув, прекратить бесится. Он перевел взгляд на Чино, который находился рядом, и, скрепя зубами, согласился.

- Ладно - он взял миленький веночек и украсил им свой череп, краснея при этом, как помидорка, а потом, надувшись, сел на ковер. О, да это было даже милее, чем сам венок! Неужели Найтмера так смущали такие простые подарки, подумал Киллер. Но сейчас не об этом. Надо было успокоить Чино.

- Чино, смотри на Найтмера - Киллер потряс того и заглянул в почти что пустые глаза. Но все же Чино обратил внимание и посмотрел в ту сторону, в которую ему указали. - Правда он красивый? Особенно в этом венке! Хочешь такой же? Тебе нравятся цветы?

- В-венок? - тихо подал голос тот. - Я люблю цветы, собирать их, они красивые. А венки я не умею, к сожалению, плести, и-

- О! Тогда я могу тебя по-позже научить. А сейчас... ты не против сесть рядом с вон той светящейся букой, и я тебя награжу красивейшей на свете короной?

- Аамм... л-ладно - Чино немного шатающиеся поплелся в указанное место и расположился рядом с другим скелетом.

Киллер прискакал за ним, как зайчик, и уже держал приготовленный специально для Чино венок. Он надел это на милого скелета, который очень сильно заливался румянцем в процессе. Это забавляло.

Киллер не обделил и себя. Теперь все трое были в цветах. Вместе. У них будет, что вспомнить. Но главное, что Чино понравилось.

[wlw-lovestruck-fiction]

“Vivienne x Mc, where Mc gets injured and falls unconscious and later Vivienne taking care?“

Pairing with:

Mc x Vivienne - QoT Mc was really close to an explosion during a heist, causing her to permanently loss her hearing. You can include the other members too because I want to see how will they handle future heist when one of their has been injured, how does Vivienne react? Will she let mc continue or not? And how does mc feel? Does she feel she cannot as much as before lost her hearing?

HEY... how do you think Vivienne would deal with a deaf MC? im deaf myself 😳😳 headcanons work if they're easier!

QOT MC gets caught up in the blast from one of Jett’s explosives, and now has severe burns acrros her face and other parts of her body along with slight deafness. Could I get a fic of Vivienne comforting her, and telling her she’s still beautiful? Thanks!

…

Warning: Writer’s first time writing a hard of hearing character.

TW: Panic attacks. Mentions of injury. Mentions of scarring.

Introspection-heavy fic.

…

The explosion was one of Jett’s finest work up to date.

Vivienne could feel it rattle her very bones, even though she was quite a distance away. The building crumbled easily and readily, becoming nothing but a sour-tasting memory. She nodded approvingly, letting out a small sigh in relief. There it went, up in smoke, all the incriminating evidence Benicio had gathered on them. And, as a bonus, most of his fake career.

“Ha! That was amazing!” Jett laughed, his voice bright with happiness, high with adrenaline. The rest of the Poppy soon joined in, albeit in less boisterous chuckles.

Coming down from the building she was in was child’s play. She abandoned Benicio’s unconscious body for the authorities to find, humming to herself as she made her way over to Leon, just barely paying attention to the conversation of the rest of the Poppy.

It doesn’t take long for her to notice that something is wrong. That something is missing.

She balances on top of the balcony she’s on, dread creeping over her body like lead, making her feel sluggish.

“Has anyone heard MC?”

The idle chatter stops. Vivienne can feel the shift in the atmosphere, can practically hear it become tense and chilly.

Amidst the muttered ‘no’ of the rest of the members, Zoe’s voice sounds surprisingly clear, a tinge of panic and worry that makes Vivienne lurch forward, desperate to reach the ground. “I lost her signal. Something must have happened!”

“But Benicio is out cold this time-”

“Nadia backed off, right? She couldn’t have-”

“And there is no way Francesca would-”

“Maybe,” Jett’s voice sounds hesitant, an echo of his usual self. “She got… caught by the explosion.”

Remy scoffs. “There’s no way that could have happened, MC knew the dangers!”

“Keep an eye out for the police, Zoe. We need to look for her,” Nikolai commanded, his voice as cold and hard as steel, immediately cutting through the panicked chatter.

Vivienne lets her teammates handle the distractions to stall the police a bit longer, her mind set only on making sure MC was all right. She hadn’t felt so frightened since everything that happened with Isadora, and she refused to let anything even remotely similar happen again. She couldn’t lose anyone precious to her. She couldn’t. One more person, and her soul would have been shattered beyond repair.

Not to mention, the whole issue with Benicio was her fault in the first place. If MC got hurt… god, if she got hurt…

“Ambulance! Can someone call an ambulance?”

Her head whipped around, eyes wide. There was a man shouting desperately a few meters away, making frantic motions to something behind him. Mouth dry, Vivienne relayed the situation to the rest of the Poppy. Her legs felt like jelly. She wondered if she’d crumble into an unrepairable mess when she got close enough, but no such thing happened. She moved forward as if possessed, dropping to her knees near two bodies. One was a small child, and the other was MC, cradling the child as if she was trying to protect him from the entire world.

They were both unconscious. Vivienne’s eyes trailed MC’s exposed skin, painted an angry red down to its very core, from her left shoulder down to her thigh. Her clothes were ruined, charred beyond recognition, sticking to MC’s body like a second skin. Vivienne’s first instinct is to throw her cape over her, just to cover the burns. Her hands are shaking so bad it proves to be quite the difficult task.

The child MC is holding seems fine, his burns less severe than MC’s, which eases Vivienne’s worry somewhat.

Jett was right. She had been caught up in the explosion.

…

“I had to pull a lot of favors to erase our trail, but at least the police won’t find us for a while. We can lay low while MC recovers.” Zoe informed them, a few nights later, exhaustion sipping from her like water out of a waterfall. Nikolai is in a similar state, sitting near Zoe by the couch, one hand covering his face and the other gripping his knee so tightly his knuckles are almost white.

“And the boy’s father?”

“He’s been trying to locate MC, but I don’t think we should worry about him. As for the boy, he’s much better than MC. His hearing wasn’t as affected, either. She really saved him…”

“Then again, if it hadn’t been for him, MC wouldn’t be like this in the first place.” Vivienne icily mutters, tightening her hold over her glass of wine. Nikolai and Zoe just give her a glance, too tired to pick a fight with her. “If he hadn’t rushed in recklessly-”

“He was scared, Viv.” Remy says, from somewhere in the kitchen. “He wasn’t thinking clearly.”

Vivienne’s scowl deepens. “Yes, but who runs into danger? You’d think the fire alarm would have gotten him to run the other way.”

“Someone who didn’t know there was going to be an explosion, that’s who.”

The seductress growls, a dark expression over her face, bitter frustration raging inside her like a chemical reaction about to explode. It just doesn’t make sense. Everything that boy had done that day was simply moronic, and MC – the angel she was, putting others before herself as she often did – had suffered dearly for it. The burns would leave scarring, no doubt; they had become angry red lines and spots that Vivienne mapped with a careful touch every time she had to apply the ointment the doctor had recommended. She had to watch how MC flinched at the contact, how she bit back a cry of pain, hiding it behind a shuddering smile and glistering brown eyes.

Vivienne couldn’t stop thinking about her expression. About how everything had changed, suddenly and without warning, all because of a boy. She can’t help but think about what Remy says and seethe in anger at the sheer absurdity of the boy’s actions, but she decides to stay quiet. The last thing the team needs is another fight.

Zoe speaks again after a few moments, voice soft.

“How is Jett?”

“He hasn’t left MC’s side,” Vivienne answers, after taking a deep breath. “His guilt is practically eating him alive.”

Zoe gives the couch a mournful, exhausted look, but gets to her feet nonetheless. “I’ll go check on him.”

No one blames Jett.

Ever since she had regained consciousness, MC’s sole focus had been on him. Vivienne didn’t mind. It felt relieving to walk inside her room and find them close, enjoying life, doing Art Club activities or laughing over some funny meme. Or, well, trying to. Jett’s laugh was muted, worried, tinted with sadness and regret; it was a sound that haunted Vivienne wherever she went, something that mirrored her own conflicted feelings. MC’s laugh was restrained and also wistful and a little distant. Sometimes she grimaced in the middle of it, her happiness crumbling in a burning flash of pain that made Vivienne’s heart clench and drop.

But they were trying. They were doing their best.

They would get through this. They all would.

…

Changes are inevitable. MC stands through it all like a stubborn rock holding its ground against a current, taking everything in stride. Vivienne had always found the artist fascinating, a fantastic enigma that Vivienne had foolishly thought she had cracked a long time ago.

MC always surprised her. After everything, Vivienne couldn’t help but feel awed by her. True, the first few weeks were hard, but MC had accepted her condition sooner rather than later, while Vivienne still cautiously danced around it, not sure what to think or feel or do.

MC had lost 65% percent of her hearing due to the explosion. Her left ear was slightly better, only at 50%, but the doctor had warned them she would lose more as the years went by. And while Vivienne had once again thrown herself into a bitter spiral of resentment against the boy, that damned boy, MC had pursed her lips with a determined expression and thrown herself into learning sign language and working around everything.

Everyone had agreed early on that MC couldn’t participate in heists anymore. She’d still be their forger, of course, but she’d stay with Zoe when the heist was underway.

“It’d be too dangerous,” MC had admitted, distractedly playing with the hem of her black jacket. She had this solemn look in her eyes, hollow and heavy with resignation, but it wasn’t defeated. It had this quiet intensity to it, like a volcano about to erupt; no one had dared to say anything as she explained. “I can’t even tell where sounds come from anymore, so I wouldn’t react properly to a threat.”

Vivienne couldn’t really wrap her mind around it. MC had described sounds as muted, fuzzy, distant, as if there was a giant wall of glass between her and the world, and on top of it she was underwater. Sounds simply became a cacophony in the background, nothing for MC to really pick apart. It was disorienting, at first, mostly because Vivienne hadn’t really fully processed everything yet.

Sometimes she would turn towards MC with her usual flair and dramas, all but spinning on the chair of her vanity like the typical movie villain, only to find MC engrossed on her work and not aware at all of the dramatic sigh Vivienne had delivered not two seconds ago. That was, perhaps, the biggest change. It didn’t take long for Vivienne to get used to it, no, but there had been something special in calling MC’s name from across the room and watching her reaction unfurl, be it an amused smirk or a heated stare.

MC carried on, not considering her hearing loss a disability at all. It made things different, but not impossible, something Vivienne had irrationally feared in the beginning. She loved MC and everything that entailed, be it scarring or hearing loss or grumpiness or that annoyingly stubborn personality of hers. There was no in-between, no extremes. There weren’t moments where Vivienne had loved her more or less. One day she had woken up to realize she had fallen hopelessly in love and she had never quite managed to get back up after that.

So these changes? Vivienne would accept them. Welcome them. No matter what.

…

The hearing aids helped. A bit.

MC had put them on, frowned for a second, and then beamed at Vivienne saying: “Oh, I can tell your voice apart from all the sounds now!” And that was it. No magically being able to hear everything again, no magically being able to pick apart the words. There was just a vague tone piercing a muted world, an anchor making lip-reading easier, but nothing else. Zoe had looked. Oh, how had she looked, but that was it. Everyone had accepted that. MC was just happy to her their voices again, however fuzzy they were.

Now, Vivienne could actually come sashaying into the room and call out to MC, and MC would look up and search for her – she still had a hard time telling where the sounds came from – and then roll her eyes with a fond smile at her girlfriend’s antics.

Something Vivienne had discovered about hard of hearing people: they listened. No, really. Somebody else would be distracted by something that happened around them, or would look at their phone or watch or hands or anything else before rejoining the conversation. Small things, really. MC didn’t do those anymore. Her attention was solely focused on whoever was speaking, watching their lips, interpreting their words. Or watching the signs, the body language, everything she could do to figure out what was going on and answer accordingly.

It was only at night that MC confided how difficult and exhausting and frustrating lip-reading was. The Poppy made an effort to sign, they had all gotten quite good at SSE, but sometimes they would go out and encounter somebody that didn’t know how to sign or somebody that wasn’t aware of what had happened to MC. It was all sort of situations, but MC took in stride.

“Baby?” MC’s drowsy voice cut through Vivienne’s thoughts. The pronunciation was a bit off, but charmingly so. MC had been horrified when Zoe commented on it, trying to correct it as soon as possible, but privately Vivienne didn’t really see why she worried so much over it. Her voice was beautiful no matter what. Or maybe Vivienne was just far too whipped. Hm.

She smiled against MC’s skin, feeling the heat of it call out to her like a siren’s song. She shifted a bit, so she could rest her head over MC’s chest, snuggling under the covers. It was a cold night, after all.

“Yes?” She mumbled, internally screaming in joy over the pet name. The vibration of her voice was all MC needed to know she was awake.

“I don’t think I’m up for seeing Jace tomorrow. Think we could reschedule?”

Vivienne hummed, toying with the thought. “I think so.” She finally drew the words on MC’s skin. Her fingers slid over the charred, dry zone that had been burned and she frowned a little, wondering if she should apply more ointment in the morning.

“Great.” MC said, softly. “And… we could… maybe we could watch a movie? There’s a new one that just began airing – I’ll ask Zoe for a subtitled version tomorrow.”

“Lovely.” Vivienne drew back.

“I love you.”

The little heart that was the seductress’ reply tingled in MC’s skin like invisible ink, pure and happy and warm like the first few rays of the sun, something that would linger for many days to come.

…

In the morning, as she had been doing this past month, the first thing she did when she woke up was straddle MC under her.

MC blinked owlishly, staring at her with a soft smile. She let Vivienne move over her, sighing contently at the soft touches from her lover. Vivienne made sure to stay in sight, so MC could see her lips.

With all that done, Vivienne began her worship.

Her hand cupped MC’s cheek, tracing the cheekbone down to the soft angle of her jaw, adoring. Long fingers then glided over her throat, down, down so she could move over her collarbones, one hand to the right, one to the left.

One hand slid over smooth, soft silk, while the other traveled against rough and dry edges carefully. MC’s eyes shifted at that, always hesitant over the marred skin, and Vivienne leaned down to place a kiss just above where the burns had been, as reverently as an astronaut would kiss the ground after months away from the Earth. She hovered there for a few seconds while her hand moved from MC’s shoulder to her side, finally coming to rest over her hip.

“You are beautiful.” She mouthed, leaning back. MC’s eyes flickered to her lips, catching the words, her smile stretching just a little bit more.

Vivienne continued, leaving a trail of kisses over that side, as she often did.

“These tell a story,” she said, and MC listened, brows knitted in concentration. “Of a brave woman that was too caring, and of a silly boy.”

MC starts to shake her head, aware of Vivienne’s resentment, but Vivienne is quick to place a finger over her lips to shush her.

“A silly boy,” she repeated, and for once her voice carried no venom. “That would have had a much difficult condition had that brave woman not intervened. These scars tell a story… and its outcome, filled with obstacles and changes and that one stubborn woman in the center of it all. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone more determined in my entire life. But here you are, MC, here you are…”

She shudders with delight, her smile widening even more. One of her hand comes up to rest over Vivienne’s heart, to feel the vibrations of her voice.

“A warrior, an angel. You are the sun my thoughts spin around, always, forever. You came into my life and gave me a reason to become the woman I am today. You are always so optimistic, so breathtakingly beautiful, with you I-” Vivienne cut herself off, remembering to breathe, to pace herself. MC gave her a grateful nod, her expression soft with affection. “With you I feel like I might soar. You’ve taught me so much. You’ve taught me how to be accepting. To accept mistakes. To not run from them. And now, you’ve taught me the importance of not giving up. I admire you, you know?”

Vivienne looked at the scars again.

“The story these tell… It’s awe-inspiring. I’ll look at them every morning and remember how strong you are. Beautiful isn’t perfect skin and perfect hearing. It isn’t daring heists and life on the edge. Beautiful is you, are you are now.”

The kiss they share is gentle, loving, pure.