#sighs so deeply you all hear it from wherever you are in the world

[slttygeto]

SWEAR IT’S JUST RIGHT FOR YOU. | NANAMI. K

જ⁀➴ synopsis: when you and nanami are equally as obsessed with each other, it creates this perfect balance. you cook for him, and he treats your pussy like it’s a blessing.

જ⁀➴word count: 3,3k

જ⁀➴ c.w: pure filth with a bit of fluff, soft dom! nanami, he turns a bit rough towards the end, rough facefucking, cunnilingus + fingering, dirty talk + praise, riding, multiple orgasms + squirting.

When Nanami praises you, it’s soft, gentle and endearing. His rough palm gently collides with the soft skin of your jaw and his thumb traces your cheek. He is reminding you of how much you mean to him, how he would burn the entire world if it meant keeping you safe and protected. You are his fairy, his delicate girl whom he could never imagine even raising his voice at. When he scolds you, his voice is stern and filled with worry despite the displeased tone, his hand grabs at your shoulder not to hurt you, and you want to caress your thumb over his forehead and get him to stop furrowing his eyebrows so deeply.

“You’ll get wrinkles, Ken.” Your voice pulls him out of his displeased state for a moment, and Kento hears birds chirping outside of the window and the sunbeam caresses your skin—It hits your beautiful eyes and he takes in every detail; your eyebrows, the slight discoloration the bottom of your jaw, the mole that seems to bring out the beauty in you even more, your eyelashes that aren’t curled but naturally have a pretty shape to them and he heaves out a sigh. He is consumed by love wherever you are near.

Heaven knows how much the man craved domesticity. He found comfort in it—a routine, a promise that when he comes home, he gets to take off his brown shoes at the front door, put his keys in the small bowl that has a mirror hanging right above it. He would then look at his reflection in the mirror and look away immediately when he notices the sweat stains as he removes his jacket. He hears your footsteps as you rush out of the kitchen with a pretty apron around your waist. You made bread, and Nanami isn’t sure whether to be infatuated by the smell of it, or the smell of your hair that hits his nostrils as you wrap your arms around his waist.

He wouldn’t care that your hair is slightly damp, but he would breathe out how the tank top you were wearing was going to get you sick if you don’t watch out. And Kento cares a lot about your comfort, he respects you a lot, so when you hug his sweaty self, his hands would gently try to remove your arms from around him and protest that he was dirty.

“It’s all hard work, Ken. I like it.” To which he wouldn’t say much but give in and let you hold him. He understands that to an extent, having a natural smell like this was attractive, he’s always told you that he likes it when you come home complaining about sweating too much and all he says is that it makes you even more attractive. Your flushed cheeks, your hair sticking up in small antennas, your nose scrunching up at how disgusting it feels to have your shirt cling onto your skin—

“Can I join you in the shower?” Which always catches you off guard, but you accept of course and Nanami sets his book down, he removes his glass and folds them neatly on top of the book before following right behind you in the bathroom. You giggle nervously when you see him close the door and lock it before leaning against it, and you let out a small and timid ‘what?’ when he keeps eyeing with the same intense eyes.

“You are beautiful.” He never denies that he is looking at you—admiring you, but instead reminds you every time that nothing in the world can change his mind about his infatuation with you.

And somewhere in between that comforting thought of coming home to you, a show playing on TV in the living room, bread baking in the oven and the smell of a clean home—Nanami dreams of fucking you stupid on the couch. He wouldn’t remove your apron, he wouldn’t let you wash your hands off of the flour—he would simply drop his pants, push your shorts down and spread your legs only to find out that you weren’t wearing any panties.

He feels sick to his stomach at thought, sighs and rubs his forehead at the fact that he was imagining such dirty things to do with you. If it were a normal fantasy like coming home and fucking you on the bed, he wouldn’t feel that bad. But that was the thing about fantasies, they existed in our head without our control, and it was up to us to act out on them or not. Kento cherished you too much to scare you off with his oh-so-called sick and twisted fantasy of his.

He comes home after a long day at work, and it’s a few minutes past seven. The house isn’t quiet, there is a show playing in the background and that was the first thing that had Kento stop dead in his tracks. He chooses to brush it off and simply rids himself of his jacket and shoes, sets his keys on the bowl before the smell of bread hits his nostrils and his lips part in confusion.

Was he dreaming? Did he somehow astral project into another dimension where his fantasy was a reality? It only confuses him further when you come out of the kitchen wearing an apron—in this reality though, you’ve chosen to wear one of his shirts instead, and Nanami doesn’t know if it’s better or worse. He tries to hide it, the way he can feel his cock hardening in his pants as you approach him with his shirt, fuzzy socks and hands that had traces of flour on them.

“You’re home.” Is how you greet him, your cheek resting on his chest and melting against his body as you breathe in his scent, a constant reminder that you get to be greeted with this sight five times a week around the same time. You boyfriend’s hand travels up to the back of your head and his fingers comb through your hair as he hums a tired response.

“Did you miss me?” Obviously, is what you want to say. But instead, when you look up at him and notice his hooded eyes, you feel his other rest on the small of your back and your heart leaps in your chest. All of a sudden, you feel hot and you feel something poking at you and you’re just surprised.

It was normal for your boyfriend to have needs, you were used to the sexual frustration that comes with having such a stressful job—but normally, Kento would avoid initiating anything with you until he’s showered and made sure he was clean. For him to insinuate that he wanted you, and so loudly with those eyes—you could feel your panties getting ruined.

“Pretty girl,” he calls out for you again when he notices your silence and the hand resting on your waist holds your chin whilst the other firmly grabs your hair. “Did you miss me?” He asks again, stern and you nod. You missed him too much, you realize. Because the lack of conversation beside greeting him and telling him he’s home—all of it was intensifying the sexual tension. It was almost like your body was warning you that Kento wasn’t going to go easy on you this time and you felt jittery.

“I missed you, Kento. Did you miss me?” You say as your hands grab onto his blouse in fists. You bring him closer to you, and gasp when you feel his hand travel down to hold your neck. He isn’t trying to cut your air, but when you make eye contact with him and see that his face has darkened, you let out a small noise.

“Let me show you instead.”

On the couch, Nanami wastes no time to attach his lips to yours and kiss you breathless. He was such a good kisser, always so passionate, always making sure to tease the corner of your lips before biting nibbling here and there—and fuck, did he lose his mind every time you tried to suck on his tongue. He would just push you on your back and cage you between his strong arms.

Nanami feels like he is constantly losing his breath whenever you are near, but when you grab onto his forearms and moan, he goes feral. Suddenly, he is reminded of how much weaker you are compared to him—frail, delicate, soft and sensitive to his touch. He is lucky, he is blessed and he makes sure to spoil you and that pretty pussy.

His kisses trail all the way down from your neck to your collarbones, his takes a whiff of your perfume and hums.

“You smell so sweet,” he mumbles against your skin. Instead of removing your apron and shirt, he pushes them up to reveal the cute panties that you were wearing and his finger traces the wet patch that’s already formed.

“Kento,” you call out to your boyfriend breathless, desperate—as though you were on a deserted island and he was the water to quench your thirst. Your legs spread on instinct for the man to settle between them and you feel his hot breath right against your panties.

“But you smell even better here… Right here,” he says and he pushes your panties to the side to reveal the wet mess hiding behind the fabric. You prop yourself up a bit higher to be able to look at Nanami while he eats you out, and you blush when you notice that he’s already staring at you.

“Up.” He pats your ass and you lift up your hips to allow him to remove your panties for you, but instead of throwing them on the floor, you see him take a whiff of the fabric and sigh and your blush darkens.

“Can I keep these, my love?” He asks sweetly, voice so deep you felt like your pussy was embarrassing you with how wet it was and you mindlessly nod. “Is that so?” He knew you wouldn’t say no, but he still wanted to thank you for trusting him with his perverted intentions.

“You’re too good for me.” Is the last thing that you hear from him before he dives between your legs and fuck—he is too good. You know Nanami is good, you don’t doubt that he can make you cum as many times as he wants before reaching his own high, but something about him eating your pussy like a treat, enjoying every drop and sucking on your clit with the intention of making you lose your mind—that was too much.

You feel his lips wrap around your clit and he sucks before smothering his face in your pussy. His nose nudges at your clit while his tongue licks at your folds and you think that for a moment, maybe he is enjoying this more than you do. His hands grip your thighs to keep them in place, and when he notices that your legs are starting to shake and your hips are bucking up, he takes one look at you and his dick almost bursts.

Flushed chest, swollen lips and a fucked out face. If Nanami wasn’t already in love with your beauty, then he feels himself falling deeper for you. You fall apart on his tongue a couple of seconds later, he enjoys the way you gasp, moan and cry as he keeps his lips attached to your clit and you try to push his head away.

“Too much,” you gasp. “Kento!” you cry out when you feel his two fingers nudge at your folds and by this point, you are breathing too hard. You feel his thick finger prod at that one spongy spot almost immediately and your eyes roll to the back of your head.

He presses a hand to your stomach and praises are spilling from his lips like a chant, watching as your soul almost escaped your body with every thrust of his thick fingers perfectly against your spot.

“That’s right baby, you’re doing so good,” “this pussy takes me so well,” “you make me so proud, look at this pussy—fucking filthy,”

The mixture of praise and him losing his composure and cursing has you reaching your orgasm again faster than expected. But this time, you make a bit of a mess and you try to apologize for ruining the couch and his clothes but he is quick to shut you up with his lips.

“You’ve just squirted on me, and you want to apologize?” he mumbles against your cheek, fingers still buried inside you and you whine.

“I made a mess,” you try to reason with your beast of a boyfriend but he quickly retreats his fingers back and delivers a harsh smack to your pussy.

“It’s never been a problem when it’s our bed, has it?”

“Kento,” you call out softly when your boyfriend starts to kiss at your neck again. “Kento, fuck my mouth.” Nanami’s brain short circuits at this and the shock is evident on his features. He doesn’t have time to stop you or protest because you are quick to get off the couch and on your knees for him.

“You’ve been so good to me, keeping me satisfied and happy—I bet you want to fuck my mouth sometimes, don’t you?” Your hands are quickly unbuckling his belt. You don’t remove his pants completely, only enough to free his painfully hard cock from his boxers. Your hand wraps around the base of his cock and you watch as he throws his head back on the couch with each slow stroke.

“You don’t know what you are asking for,” is what he says as he tries to get you to back out of this, but you are determined to let him ruin your life. Him, the only man on this planet whom you would blindly trust with your life.

“I know what I am asking for.”

“I could hurt you,”

“I will tap your thigh if you do,” and then there’s a few moments of silence where Kento just stares deeply into your eyes. When you see him lean down towards you, your breath catches in your throat and your lips part in shock when his hand goes to the back of your head and the other one grips your jaw open.

“Open up.” And when you do, he rests the fat tip of his cock on your tongue. The pre-cum is a bit salty but you don’t say anything as you let Kento handle your mouth to his liking. He tells you to open up a bit more and breathe before he starts to thrust his dick in and out of your mouth at a slow pace.

You’re taking it well at first, but when you notice your boyfriend’s thighs shaking, indicating that he is holding back on you, you decide to take matters into your own hands. Quite literally.

Your hand wraps around the base of his cock and you push his dick down your throat, nose nuzzling against his pubes and he curses out loud.

“Fuck--!” You repeat the same motion over and over again, and by the third time, your boyfriend finally breaks and starts fucking your mouth like a starved man. Your knees burn, and so do your lungs—the couch is moving every time Kento brings your head back on his cock and you’ve braced yourself on his thighs for support.

“Sorry—fuck, I’m sorry baby,” he says between gritted teeth. However, when his eyes catch that you’re rubbing your swollen clit to the same rhythm of your head on his cock, something in him snaps.

He pushes you off of his cock, and any complaint you head is drowned out when he stands up and his cock stands proud. You look up at him from your spot on the floor and brace yourself on his thighs again when you feel him grab your face and push his cock inside your mouth.

“Filthy fucking girl,” he breathes out. “Can’t even let me be sweet to you—shit,” based on how difficult it is to even talk properly, you guess that he is close and so you sneak a hand between his legs and starts fondling with his balls—you squeeze them, and that’s when Nanami finally breaks and cums down your throat with a broken moan.

Even while trying to catch his breath, Nanami’s hands caress your face and neck as he takes a seat and pulls you closer to him. He then helps you get back up on your feet and pulls you on his lap to kiss you. He can taste himself on your tongue even after you’ve swallowed everything.

“Was I good?” You ask when he pulls away from your lips to kiss your cheek and down your neck once again, a pattern that he’s learned always turns you into putty.

“Perfect, my love. You are perfect for me.”

You are surprised at how fast he gets hard again, but you supposed it’s also because you were literally grinding your bare pussy against his dick. Your hands hold onto his shoulders for support as you try to slip his dick past your folds, but you let out a surprised noise when he easily lifts you up and aligns the tip of his cock with your pussy.

“Noticed that you like my arms a lot,” he says and you are obliged to stare at his forearms and good lord—the way they flex as they hold you above his cock, Nanami lets out an amused chuckle when he sees a string of arousal drip directly on top of his cock. “You do like them, huh?”

“Baby,” you whimper and Kento cannot find it in him to tease you any longer. He gently drops you down on his cock and he immediately gets to work. His hand rests on the small of your back and pushes you towards him to press your chest flush against his, his hands then grip your ass cheeks and he starts to slam you up and down on his cock with so much ease.

You sound like a mess. The combination of your boyfriend’s strong arms and the tip of his thick cock abusing your spot turns you into a blabbering mess on top of him.

“So good, so good—fuck, oh fuck,” sounded like music to his ears. Your whines your moans, your fucked out look and your eyes begging him to ruin you—Nanami was addicted to every part of you.

And it only takes a few more messy and sloppy thrusts from him and you cum around him with a loud cry.

“There you go,” he says breathlessly, feeling his own orgasm creeping up on him. “Make a mess on me, baby,”

You shake like a leaf on top of him, hands gripping onto his shirt for dear life and lips pressed against his neck.

“Think you can take a bit more for me? I’m really close, darling,”

“Hurry up,” you say desperately and as promised, Kento thrusts a few more times before he is cumming inside you with a loud groan. He buries his face in your neck, taking in your scent that has now been mixed with his own and a hint of sweat. He relaxes in your hold, hand tracing the small of your back as a way to get you to come down from your orgasm and perhaps even apologize for being a bit rough with you earlier.

All of his worries are brushed off when you pull away from him to press a kiss to his forehead, his nose then down to lips.

“I love you, Ken. I love you too much,” you announce, a hint of sleepiness to your voice and a smile finds its way to his face.

“I love you too, darling. I love you too much.”

2023 ; all works belong to @ slttygeto. do not repost my works on any other platofrm.

[sttoru]

·.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. satoru’s love for you has never diminished—even after being your husband for a few years now. in fact, his love for you continues to increase with each passing day.

wc. 500-ish

tags. husband!gojo satoru x wife!female reader. fluff. satoru being clingy as per usual. reader gets called ‘sweetheart, my wife.’

“and my lovely wife right here will have the vanilla flavour,” satoru announces to the ice cream man. he’s smiling from ear to ear as he shamelessly puts emphasis on the word ‘lovely’.

it’s embarrassing to you. especially because everyone in the queue - plus the vendor - is staring at you. some giggle at the affectionate display from your husband, others just stare or roll their eyes.

satoru does not care about any of them. all he cares about is expressing his love to you in any way he can—whenever, wherever. this time he went for a much more. . . direct approach.

“you didn’t have to say it like that,” you mumble under your breath. you tug at satoru’s arm, clinging onto him whilst hiding your face against his bicep.

you get even more flustered when the man behind the counter nods at your lover’s words—telling you he ‘agrees that you’re indeed a lovely woman’.

satoru feels a sense of pride in having you with him. he always does. seeing the reactions of others when he’s boasting about having a pretty wife makes him feel all giddy.

“why? i’m proud of my wife,” satoru shrugs nonchalantly. he lowers his head to yours, looking you in the eyes from behind his sunglasses. he giggles once he sees that flustered expression of yours from up close.

the sorcerer ruffles your hair before over excessively nuzzling his cheek against yours. perhaps he’s actually experiencing what’s called a love surge, “my girl, my sweetheart.”

you cringe at the cheesy moment that’s happening. you love satoru and his clingy affectionate gestures, but when you’re surrounded by a bunch of people, it can become overwhelming.

you whimper and scrunch your nose up, “mghhh, stop it—we’re in public, ‘toru.”

a futile attempt to stop the white haired man. though, after a few seconds, he actually halts his movements. satoru pouts dramatically whilst holding your face in his hands. he squeezes your cheeks together, “awww. . . but what if i want the world to know that i’m the luckiest man ali—ow!”

you bite satoru’s thumb the second it teasingly rubs with your bottom lip. he’s always so touchy and knows no boundaries when it comes to pda. however, it does make you happy to know that he’s not afraid to show you off to the world.

you playfully frown at your husband, his thumb still between your teeth. it’s cute how easily flustered you get. it makes him want to play with you some more—to tease you some more.

“alright, alright,” satoru gives up and sighs deeply. his head is held low as he steps back to give you some space, “i jus’ wanted to let my girl know how much i adore her, y’know.”

“hah, i’m not falling for your dramatics this time,” you chuckle and roll your eyes. you grab your order once it’s done and walk out of the shop without waiting for your pouty but lovely husband.

you hear him whine out your name. satoru hurriedly grabs his own ice cream cone before rushing after you. once he’s caught up, he wraps his arms around you from behind and lifts you up.

“hey! you can’t just leave your hubby like that. c’mere,” satoru smirks and you can hear it in his voice. you kick your legs, though to no avail.

“gojo satoru! don’t you dare,” you warn whilst holding tightly onto your dessert. satoru ignores your warning and spins you around in circles with him—laughing at your high pitched shrieks.

he doesn’t stop until you’re both dizzy and have to hold onto each other to prevent from falling. satoru kisses your neck gently and you can feel him smiling against your skin, “i love you, sweetheart.”

his love for you has and will never fade. many may say that the honeymoon phase will end sooner or later in a marriage, but that’s definitely not the case with your marriage.

satoru will always be head over heels for you and his affection for you will never stop. even if you’re both old and grey; he’s going to love you all the same.

[hanibalistic]

#6F417E | EARTH-42 MILES MORALES.

genre | fluff, faint angst / reader is gn

synopsis | miles found you fainted in an alleyway one day, except you died two years ago.

word count | 2861

warning | brief mention of bullying / mentions of death (reader from earth-42 has passed) / everything i know about e-42 miles morales is from the movie 

note | i had to write something :'( it's been on my mind!

parts | one, two, three, four

Against his better judgment, Miles felt restless, and he wasn't sure if it was because of the miraculous event of you coming back from the dead or that seeing your face again made him realize how deeply he has deluded himself into thinking he had changed.  

The truth was that he hadn't changed. He merely made the decision to completely push his identity away after your death, as it was the only way to shield his fragile mind from unraveling into a pit of suicidal doom, where all he could ever think about was to follow you wherever you go, be it heaven or hell. He put his face into a mask unseen by all, not even himself, and the mask ripped itself aggressively when he saw you fainted in the dead end of an alleyway at night. You were supposed to be six feet underground—he watched you fall off a skyscraper! He watched you get put six feet underground! How were you alive?

"Shit."

Miles cursed through a frustrated groan as he pushed the covers off his body. The clock in his room enunciated each tick of a second, reminding him how long it had been since he plopped himself on the bed and tried to get some shut-eye. The ticking noise irritated his ears like chalk scraping against a blackboard, and he would have thrown something at it if you and his mother weren't around to hear the damage. Staring at the dim ceiling, he heaved a deep sigh and closed his eyes, not to get some sleep but to piece together everything that happened so far. 

First, he found you fainted in an alleyway. He brought you home and decided to hide you in his room. A person who has been dead for nearly two years coming back to life was not the easiest news to break to anybody. He managed not a whole day of concealing your existence before his mother found out when she was tidying up the dirty clothes in his room. Baffled and even a little creeped out, she helped nurse you after you woke up, which was only later that night.

Second, Miles called Uncle Aaron to help make sense of this situation, which led to him finding out that you weren't from this world at all—Miles clenched his fist as his train of thought shattered. 

He always forgot you were not the same [Name] he knew; not the childhood best friend, and not the person he harbored secret romantic feelings for. He wanted so badly for you to be them, for him to be able to turn away from the guilt of not saving you years ago. For the most part, he did. The immense joy of spending these past few days with you, albeit with a few stuttered words and clumsy movements because you were both getting used to each other, was an experience very familiar to how it used to be like with the ‘you’ he knew of. 

Miles took you everywhere upon your request, and his mother encouraged him to go out. He took you to play in the arcade, eat at the local sandwich place, and stand atop a massive neon sign advertising for a corporate brand. The only place he refused to bring you to was the skyscraper where ‘you’ died, and you didn’t push him to do so after the first time he refused. He kept himself relatively guarded these days, much like he has always been. But during the times with you, he has never felt more childish and happy. Chasing you down a crowded street and being forced to hold your hand like a leash was normalcy he forgot he deeply yearned for, and it made him happy. 

The cause of his insomnia was simple: you. More specifically, the fact that you gave him something to think about, to worry about, and to lose.

Miles exhaled with exhaustion as he got off the bed. He thought a cup of water would do him good. It could clear his head. Pushing open his room door quietly to not wake his mother, flashes of colors on the television screen greeted him immediately, accompanied by the rhythmic tilts of your head as you watched the commercials on silent. He raised a brow. You were humming a song in your head; he wondered what it sounded like. Also, you should be sleeping so you can get some rest.

“Why aren’t you sleeping?”

“Why aren’t you?” 

“Fair ‘nuff,” Miles muttered as he walked past the couch to the kitchen. He grabbed a glass and poured himself some water when you sheepishly trailed into the area to watch him. Your stare made him uncomfortable, so he turned away from you and quickly chucked the whole cup of water down. He almost slammed the cup near the sink, stopping just before the glass could make a noise against the kitchen counter. “What?”

“I thought you have something to do tomorrow,” you said, ignoring his impatient tone. 

“Yeah? What of it?” He shrugged, focusing on cleaning the glass with tap water.

“You should get some rest, then.”

“Thanks, my insomnia is gone now.” He rolled his eyes and wiped his hands on the towel hung on a magnet stuck to the side of the fridge.

The sound of your pitter-patter footsteps followed him as he made his way out of the kitchen. You hovered around him, watching him with squinted eyes as if trying to access him. He ignored you; he found the only way to keep his emotional walls up and guarded was to ignore you as best as possible. He had missed ‘you’ so dearly that even bickering with you was an activity left to be desired, and he could not afford to want more of you than he already did. He set himself a limit, and he planned to stick with it.

“Insomnia!” you whispered with a beaming face as if he didn’t just straightforwardly tell you his problem was his inability to fall asleep. You clapped your hands and held them in front of your chest in an intertwined position. “Let me help you. I know a good way to fall asleep!”

“Being around you is not one of them,” Miles muttered.

"Don't be mean," you said through a huffed-out giggle before you made a beeline to his open room.

He closed his eyes to hold down the pit of quiet rage burning in his chest. Your spontaneity was challenging to handle. His body could keep up with you weaving in and out of crowds. If anything, he was much faster than you could ever be. But his heart could not keep up with having to follow you around constantly, his eyes trailing your back, his legs picking up their pace to go where you go, and his voice talking whenever you talk. He set himself a limit for how much he would let you into his life—

Miles returned to his room to find you sitting cross-legged on his bed, grinning at his arrival.

—and you punched past it with ease. 

"By the way, I'm sorry I have to keep wearing your clothes," you mentioned as you extended your arms, letting his sweater sleeve fall over your hands. "Your uncle's clothes are too big for me, and I don't like wearing sleep gowns."

He didn't mind. "I'll take you to get something when I'm free," he said. He planned to veto anything you wanted to keep you rummaging through his closet. 

"You're taking me shopping?" you pursed your lips into a playful smile before you smacked your face with your hands, your torso squirming about to make an even bigger mockery of the situation. "How sweet, Miles!" 

Too much ease—his walls crumbled like sandcastles under a gust of wind when he turned away from you to allow himself a chuckle. Then he caught himself. He rubbed the tip of his nose and fixed his jaw before returning to you; his less-than-menacing glare became dull and soft once his eyes filled with your reflection. He leisurely pointed at the bedroom door and almost laughed again when he demanded, "Go back to your room."

You pulled a face. He doesn’t get to tell you to do that. “No.”

"Get off my bed, then."

You thought about it for a little before you agreed. Scrambling off, you kept your arms on the edge of his bed, and your legs slumped onto the floor with the bed's support. Miles furrowed his brows when you tapped the empty spot on his bed twice, and he begrudgingly filled the space when he realized you didn't plan on leaving. 

"I got you. You're gonna fall asleep in no time!" you exclaimed quietly, touching his chest. "This helped me a lot when I have trouble sleeping."

"Pattin' your chest helps you fall asleep?" he questioned in disbelief. Then, a beat later, he fired a question with a bitter taste, "Who's touching you like this?" 

“Just me,” you replied, laying your cheek on your forearm. “Patting my chest helps me regulate my breathing, which is good for after I cry.”

He shifted his head slightly to eye you. “You cry a lot?”

“Hmm… no,” you mused. “Just when bad things happen.” 

“Like what?”

“Like these.” 

You lifted your head and raised your arm upward. Taking a break from the beat you rested on his chest, you pulled down the sleeve and flipped your forearm to his direction, showing him a short, bulging scar decorated just below your inner elbow. Miles lifted his body from the pillow and raised a brow curiously at the nasty scar, but he kept his opinion to himself. He watched as you pulled the sleeve down to cover it, and he deduced that there must be more of those injuries scattered across your body. Relaxing back onto his bed, he shrugged.

“One hell of a fall,” he commented.

“No, someone cut me,” you clarified as you leaned back onto your arm and pressed your hand to his chest again, “someone from school.”

It took him a moment to register your words and then another short moment to register the unfamiliar rage traveling through his body. This was unlike himself, unlike what he felt as the prowler. The signature thrill and trigger-happy sensation didn’t exist in this version of his anger. His fingers twitched with each jump of his thoughts, his hooded eyes scratching out an empty figure on the ceiling as if replaying the pain you must have gone through to receive that scar, and he recognized his anger as slow and steady, brooding and demonic. 

There was no use holding a grudge against someone from a universe away, but Miles thought he would kill whoever hurt you. With the right technology, he may even erase their existence forever. Never mind killing; dying, in some sense, was a blessing. What if those people were never even born? Their existence wiped off the face of Earth, reduced to nothingness, with no pictures, no songs, and no memories to preserve even a trace of their livelihood. 

“Hey, you can’t fall asleep like this.” Your voice snapped him out of his trance. “You’re being really tense, Miles.”

“That’s 'cause you’re terrible at helping people fall asleep,” he retorted as the muffling in his ears began to scatter.

You scoffed but didn’t cease the rhythmic pat on his chest. Instead, you turned your focus elsewhere. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

“No.”

“What was I like?” 

He sighed. “I’m not talking about it.” 

“Fresh wound. Got it,” you said with a nod. But he knew better than to let his guard down. The smacking of your teeth was an indication of your mind gears turning—unbeknownst to him, he had your habits memorized in a span of a few days. A frown increasingly widened on your face until your mind map ended, and you hummed at the distaste in your mouth. “Were you in with love them? It feels like you were.”

He glared at you pointedly, but the intimidation passed your head as you leveled him with a curious gaze. Miles choked on his thoughts. Nothing he could do here would stop you from believing in his denial. He could turn away, ignore you, or even verbally deny your question! Nothing would have gotten you to let go of your correct assumption that he was in love with ‘you,’ and by extension, him being in love with you too.

“What made you think I was?” he asked, flipping the attention to you. 

You let out a curt giggle and sheepishly shrunk into yourself. “You’re really nice to me.”

“Because we were friends.”

“Yeah,” you mused with a grimace before you smiled. “But it’s much more interesting to think you were in love, isn’t it?”

He slapped a hand over his eyes and rubbed his face in exhaustion. “Can I sleep?”

“Of course! I’m sorry, it must be tough to have the love of your life watch you while you sleep,” you snickered with a few nods of approval directed at yourself. 

You rested one side of your cheek against the bedsheet, finally deciding to heed his plea to be quiet. Miles took your silence as a chance to close his eyes and finally relax into his headspace. The consistent pat of your palm on his chest served as a hypnotic device to lure you to sleep more than it was for him. The real lure of peace for him was more from your presence in his room and the soft humming that trailed out of your shut lips. That must have been the song you were thinking of when you watched the television on silent; Miles got it memorized after a few loops of it. 

You shifted sleepily on the floor and looked at him. You thought he didn’t look so hateful asleep as he always did. He looked at everything with such coldness, distant enough to be out of reach but close enough to justify hating everything. With you, his eyes held a sense of unwilling defeat, like he was grounding himself on the spot to keep from running to you, and he hated every minute of it even though he thought it was for his own good to shut himself out. He always looked like someone refrained from holding a loved one as they stood before him with open arms.

Your suspicion that he was in love with you from this world didn’t spawn out of nowhere. You merely knew he wasn’t ready to be confronted with his feelings, so you made a humorous joke out of it instead. But you could tell. You could always tell because nobody had ever looked at you like that before, and for once, someone’s unfamiliar eyes made you feel a centuries' worth of romance rather than torture. 

“It’s nice to know a version of me is likable,” you muttered to yourself, and you laughed. "And I thought nobody would ever fall in love with me.”

Miles laid still on his bed for a little longer, listening to the clock tick by. When your humming ceased and your hand stopped patting a beat on his chest, he opened his eyes and carefully turned his body toward your direction. He took a good look at you; his eyes brushed past those identical pair of eyes, your recognizable nose, your soft lips, the curve of your jaw, and your ears made small over his hands. A shivering breath latched at the tip of his tongue, and he had to huff through his nose to remind himself to breathe.

You didn’t wake when he carefully hooked his arm under your legs and pulled you onto his bed. He made space for you on his bed, and he made space for you in his concealed heart that once only belonged to him.

Despite the illusion, his mind knew who you were, but his heart couldn’t pick apart the differences. Except it wasn’t as easy as it seemed. This wasn’t about how you both looked and sounded the same. This was about him and his feelings. This was about him having fallen in love with you before, and now, as he felt his shattered heart piecing itself together through the mere sight of your sleeping face, he was about to do it again. His heart knew you were different, and it did not care. He was ready to fall in love with you again, and he was ready to fall in love with you anywhere.

Because the moon never stops orbiting around the sun. Because Miles chose to let go of himself instead of letting go of the love he has for you. Because he would fall in love with you every time, and he would choose you over himself every time. 

“What do you even know,” he touched your cheek with the back of his knuckles, “about people falling in love with you?”

What do you even know about Miles Morales falling in love with you?

He hugged you close and shut his eyes.

You knew absolutely nothing. 

[brucewaynehater101]

Oh my god, I love that so much. Tim's heart beat was only for Kon, so when Kon went away so did his heart beat. It's still gone because Tim hasn't even come *close* to recovering from Kon and Bart and Steph's deaths, even if all three of them are back they still deeply effect him. Also Tim being the heart of the team so so <3 to me.

Tim 100% will use this incident against not just Bruce, but the entire family. Dick suggests he cuts back on the caffeine and Tim replies, "the only time I do is when I'm Relaxing on a trip and last time I went on a trip you nearly killed Ivy because you were to stressed to think straight." and when Jason comments he should take a rest, Tim says, "I only rest on trains but last time I got on one, you nearly made another duffel bag of heads."

Turning back time a bit though, can you imagine when they get to the train car that Tim is on, expecting it to be some grand show down with all of them in costume? And then they hear... music? coming from the train car that the tracker says Tim is in?? They all swing into the car while Tim's back is to them, yelling along to Shakira and when he turns around it's literally, "WHENEVER, WHEREVER, WE'RE MEANT TO- AAAAAAAAA" And he jumps a solid foot in the air while chucking his MP3 at the closest Bat, Bruce, and hitting them square in the forehead with it. Tim is death glaring them as he says, "what the fuck are you doing here, I'm on vacation. I'll be home tomorrow, what the *fuck* is so important that you tracked me down on my day off???"

Yes! Exactly. There's so much angst to be explored with Tim's missing heartbeat, how that reflects his current mindset/relationships with people, and how that affects Kon. I like to hc that Kon listens to various YJ members' heartbeats as a calming measure and reassurance. His inability to hear Tim's causes him stress and heartbreak (your choice on whether that's platonic or not).

Tim is a chaos gremlin who uses guilt tripping (in lighthearted measures) with a vicious lack of mercy. It only works half the time on his family members anyways and is a healthier form of airing out grievances (than trying to attack anyone).

Tim most definitely is swaying and dancing to the music when the Bats find him. He refuses to be embarrassed by this. If they want to make fun of him for dancing and singing alone on a train, they can suck it.

Tim: "What the fuck is so important that you tracked me down on my day off??? The world better be ending."

Bruce: "Tim... you weren't answering your phone and no one knew where you were."

Tim: "I'm on my vacation like always? You know this!"

Bruce: "No. No we didn't."

Tim: ".... Is this another case of me assuming you know about something that's been happening for years?"

Bruce: *nods with pursed lips*

Tim: *sighs heavily*

Jason: "Wait.... your vacation is riding cargo carts for days?"

Tim: *points a finger at Jason* "I don't want to hear judgment from you, Mr. Red Helmet."

Also, the reveal of them finding out why he developed this de-stress mechanism is going to be great. Just Tim refusing to make eye contact as he tries to nonchalantly explain being abandoned in another state/city and having to make his way home before he was even a teenager. Then he turned this very messed up form of neglect into a semi healthy form of decompression due to the same incident happening more than once to Tim.

The Bats obvious go fucking ballistic

[pixiesholloworld]

You don’t know how you managed to do it, but here you are. Saturo Gojo is your boyfriend; you were so impressed by him at all times—the way he could effortlessly carry conversations with anyone, even complete strangers! He was responsible... at times. Let’s just say he made sure to get things done. 

He didn’t have a care in the world, even when his bosses were breathing down his neck. The stress of life seemed to glide right off of him like butter in a pan. He is the best at cooking dinners; he does the laundry and even goes as far as to fold and put it away. He didn’t want you to lift those pretty fingers of yours.

“Just leave it to me, baby, I’ll take care of it all,” he’d say while cupping your delicate cheek in his hand, planting kisses wherever he saw fit. 

Still

You felt horrible, your boyfriend, Saturo Gojo, the strongest, the holder of the six eyes and limitless technique, househusband, breadwinner, all of these things. And then there was you, complaining about your sociology exam next week. You were entirely dependent on him, and you hated it. 

You tried your hardest not to compare your lives but the vast difference in talents and capabilities were so blatant to you, it made you sick.

You had promised Gojo that you’d keep the house clean and be able to care for yourself while he was gone. He was going on a business trip for a while with his students. He’d be gone for a whole week!

“Are you sure you don’t need any extra money?” He was practically begging that you took his money

“I’ll be fine, turo." You insisted, after all, he’d only be gone for a week... then again, it would be the first time he was gone longer than a few days at a time. You couldn’t help but feel a deep neediness stir inside you. 

You said your goodbyes and watched him walk out the front door to your shared apartment, you sighed deeply and went to work at your desk deciding to finish a few assignments before it got too late.

~~~~~

Ring..

Ring..

Ring..

You moan and lift your head up, the light from your desk blinding you. Looking around, you can see that you fell asleep while studying again. You check the time on your watch: 1:15 a.m.

You sigh and wipe the sleep from your eyes, picking up your phone in the process, it’s Saturo. Your heart went aflutter, a certain calmness came with seeing his name it was like he was always with you, even though you were nowhere near each other. 

You could imagine him now, his lengthy legs spread out across his bed, his phone up to his ear as he chews on his nail, waiting for you to answer, wanting to hear how your day went. A warm smile spreads across your face as you slide your thumb across the screen to answer. 

“Hello?”

You peep out, trying to keep your excitement hidden

“Hey doll face,” he responds, “ya miss me yet?”

“Of course not” you tease biting your lip and drawing a quick sketch of him in your notebook

“Have you eaten yet?”

He asks this already knowing the answer. His assumption being confirmed when you let out an exaggerated groan, you can hear a slight chuckle on the other end of the phone. He convinces you to make yourself a sandwich or to eat a salad—something small so you won't have a tummy ache in the morning. 

While you went on to prepare a small meal for yourself, you spoke about your day to and your frustrations with school. He’d chime in every once in a while to make sure he knew who you were talking about too. 

“That girl with the ugly boyfriend right? Just hearing about her makes my skin crawl”

Or

“Your professor with the bald head? I wonder if that old geezer will ever retire”

You loved how invested he was in your life, even if you knew next to nothing about cursed spirits or sorcery in general, you were his peace, a slice of normality in his chaos-filled life. You lay in bed, fidgeting with the drawstring on your shorts as you continued on with your conversation. 

Your knees are blocking the view of the black TV, only wanting to sink into Saturo’s voice, and though you tried not to admit it over the phone in an effort to not seem needy, you missed him. His tried yet deep voice trailed on in the background as you obsessed over how he sounds over the phone. 

You could only imagine him now: how his large, pale hands would wrap around your waist every time you hugged, or how silly he would be in public, unconcerned with how the people around you would look at you two, how he’d let you sit in his lap after a long day of school and drift off to sleep, how he’d sometimes shift himself to be more comfortable while he was underneath you as the filthy idea of teasing him filled your mind.

You listened to his voice string along and then suddenly

“Have you ever touched yourself while we were on the phone together?”

“Nu uh,” he said softly

Wishing you could eat your words immediately afterwards, the bitter taste of embarrassment pulling at the back of your throat

“Do you want me to?”

Your heart nearly freezes at the suggestion with nothing but silence on your end, too shy to tell your boyfriend what you want.

“Awh baby,” he coos, “you do don’t you?”

A barely audible “mhm” is all he needs

“You’re gonna have to give me something to work with ya’know?” He breathes

You lift your shirt up, slightly pushing your boobs together to take a picture for him, double checking twice to make sure you send it to him and him only. He gives an exasperated sigh in response almost like he’s not satisfied.

“Keep your face in it” he demands, “thats the best part after all”

Anytime you and Saturo were about to get intimate, he made it a a point to make you as flustered as possible he loved the little faces you made as you squirmed under him, how your body hung to every word he said heating your cunt and getting you all riled up just for him. You didn’t know the effect would still be the same over the phone. You took the picture again, your puzzled face well within frame. As soon as you hit send you heard a satisfied hum from Saturo.

“Well don’t stop now, send me more”

You did as he said shuffling around in your bed to get different angles of your breast, your ass and cunt, teasing him by leaving your panties on. Admittedly, you liked being Saturo’s personal cam girl, you loved that only he could see these pictures and only he will be relieving himself to them.

“That’s it princess” he said under quick breaths, “m’ gonna fuck you so good when I get home… take your panties off” he demanded

But that was just it. You realized Saturo held so much power over you,, of course you loved giving him what he wanted but now you were in control, your mind played with the idea of holding out on Saturo, listening to his strained gasps and lustful whimpers it wouldn’t cause any harm if you denied him what he wanted.. right?

“No” you said quickly, Saturo almost couldn’t believe it

“Huh?” he shuttered mid stroke

“No” you purr

“How’dya expect me to finish then, hm?”

“Beg” you replied

This is something you never thought you’d request of Saturo, but the way he sounds on the phone right now, he sounds so vulnerable and something about it turned you on though you’re glad you did when he chokes out:

“Please mommy”

It caught you off guard the first time though truthfully it sent a quick shiver up your spine, stimulating your nipples and making your clit jolt he continued begging quick breaths and broken whines filling up the air

“Please take them off mommy, I wanna see you” he begs

Knowing you can’t hold out after he said that you take them off and show him your slick peral, the light glistening off of it even in the dimly lit room

“Awh fuck!” He says upon seeing you, “talk me through it please, I wanna hear you”

“Keep stroking it baby” the words gliding off your tounge effortlessly, “you’re doing such a good job”

He whines into the phone, deep huffs filling the air he twists his hand while pleasing himself desperately trying to mimic the feeling of your wet cunt. Images of you flowing in and out of his mind, drops of precum pouring over his inflamed tip, his body quivering at the sudden power exchange

“M-more” he manages to breathe out

“Hm? More of what darling?”

His breath becomes more ragged because of this, “tell me i’m doing good, please, please keep going”

Who knew that your boyfriend, Saturo Gojo, the strongest, the holder of the six eyes and limitless technique, domineering in all ways, liked to be praised he liked to hear how much he was pleasing you, obeying your every command.. filling your ears with desperate groans and jagged breaths, his hips starting to have a mind of their own as he starts mindlessly fucking into his hand and it was all because of you.

“I have to — i have to~” he whimpers as if the words are being choked out of him

“Use your words” you coo

“Let me cum” his breath shatters towards the end of his sentence

The air becomes filled with gentle pleads along with your fair share of teasing until you finally let him have it, he almost sounds like he’s crying from how much pleasure he’s feeling. Milky shoots of cum pile up on his hand and he sends you a picture of his half hard cock, breathing heavily from touching himself to you, after he feels like hes collected himself enough he shoots you a question,

“Why haven’t we done this before?”

As if he wasn’t begging and pleading with you moments ago, you chuckle

“I dunno” you say almost innocently

The two of you continue on with your conversation for the rest of the night, the sexual tension growing as it carries on and no matter what topics you trailed onto one thing was for certain

Neither of you could wait until next week.

[kurosstuff]

Hey~

If you're writing for Sera..maybe could you write where she has to watch as Reader gets their wings ripped off and is casted down to hell?

<3

Oh of course lovely~

Also never wrote for her so I'm sorry if she's occ- SO ITLL BE SHORT♡♡

Warning(s) pure angst, kinda with like the Bible? A bit(cause of lucifer) but- not detailed

Heaven is a peaceful place.

No trouble. No sadness. Nothing of the sort. No negative things

No regrets.

So why does Sera feel this deep regret? This sickening feeling as she awaits the trial to begin. Must it be because of her own miss calculation? Frowning she watched as you were forced into the room. Forced on your knees bound in that gold chains as you stand trial for your traitorous behavior.

Which she deemed was also her fault. Letting you entertain such horrid thoughts. Of how the council was wrong. How heaven was cruel. Sera stood eyes once filled with love and warmth, now cold staring you down.

"You stand trial for questioning the lord above himself. How you questioned his authority. Blamed him for all the sinning below. " her throat felt dry from how cold she spoke to you. Her lover. Her mate, "Do you admit to these claims of being a traitorous angel?"

"Yes. I accept to all of it, " your voice rang out. Without hesitation. Without a drop of regret.. guilt. Sera frowned deeply, her emotions gone too much, the eyes on her wings popped out showing her true emotion.

The sadness in the eyes. How every pair watched you. Watched all your reactions, all eyes not cold. But filled with her true feelings. Her warmth for you. Her love for you. A hand touched her arm. Looking she saw Emily, who smiled sadly at her. Taking a deep breath, her wings folded once more. Eyes fully closed

She ignored the trial. Hearing the pleading. She ignored it all. The only thing she did was watch you. She knew the outcome. She knew what would happen. Closing her eyes, she sighed. This has all been done before. The same EXACT thing. The same thing your being accused of.

Of what you admitted to.

The first fallen angel. The King of hell. The one she herself failed to protect from the unpurity of the firsts. The unpurity of the growing world. Sera was more then aware mortals couldn't be without sin. Not with how a certain someone played a trick. A test of sorts with-

She sighed she won't focus on the past. How she failed. In the SAME exact way. Looking at you as you screamed, glaring, begging to be heard, she frowned deeply. Only one punishment would seem fit for this crime.

She didn't want to watch. But she must.

After all? How could she look away from her final sight of her mate? Taking a deep breath, she spoke for the first time ever. Interrupting you

"Only one punishment seems fit for the crime. You will be stripped of your title as a pure angel. You will be fallen"

Not even a second later, an executioner - was it Lute the rude inhumanely cruel angel? She wasn't sure not with those God forsaken masks. Watching her push you to the ground, the chains holding you in place as she struck. Slicing your wings off in a cruel fast motion. Yet so slow to Sera. A deep frown never left her face, never left as you begged for her to forgive you. Watching as the ground opened up swallowing you whole.

Welcoming you to your new home.

Closing her eyes, her hands clasped over one another, praying your fall was a peaceful one. That you'd forgive her. She new the council would over look this. After all.

Like Swans-? Angels mate for life. No matter what occurs to their mate. Even if they fell. That as cruel as it was. Sera couldn't help but be thankful for in.. a odd way she couldn't pinpoint. Turning, she left the courtroom noting Emily? Didn't follow- humming she must be grabbing your halo.

Silently, she walked. Where to? She wasn't sure - just going wherever her feet took her. Just whatever her feet took her. Blinking, she stopped.. was it raining? Her cheeks wet from something. Moving to touch her face, her lips quivered in sorrow. In her loss. Closing her eyes in a deep sigh.

Heaven doesn't rain

[starlitmark]

Summary: You were so close, but some things aren’t meant to be. Pairing: bunny!Jaemin x fem human!reader Tropes: established relationship au, hybrid au Genre: angst, a little fluff Rating:  PG 13 Warnings: mentions of death, mentions of surgery, severe cramping, blood, language miscarriages, lots of crying Word Count: 3,398 Note: Everyone can blame @raibebe for this

Neo Hybridverse Masterlist || Cashmere Lop!Jaemin Masterlist

Jaemin has expressed for years now that he wants multiple kids. You tried so hard for so long to have Miyoung, and she’s more than you could ever ask for. She’s ten months old now and lights up your entire world daily. Her oversized tan floppy ears continuously fall in her face wherever she crawls off to. You giggle slightly each time you hear her make a little annoyed noise. Jaemin is at work right now, so it’s just you and Miyoung at home until late this evening. 

In reality, it’s you, Miyoung, and the tiny unborn baby you just learned about. Most people would be scared or nervous about having two kids so close in age. After all, by the time this baby is born, Miyoung will only be a year and a half old. You aren’t worried about it at all. If you’re being completely honest, you’re rather excited. Jaemin told you not too long ago that he wanted another one already. You can’t blame him, even with your daughter so young. You wanted another one already, too. Once you saw those two little pink lines on three different tests, it was evident that you and your husband got your wish. This time, instead of telling him about your pregnancy, you just left the tests out and decided to let his nose do the work. As if on cue, the front door of your home pops open and shut again. Your eyebrows furrow, knowing Jaemin shouldn’t be home long after you put Miyoung to bed. Though, you only put your daughter to bed half an hour ago. You hear your husband sigh, followed by footsteps approaching you.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he says, voice laced with exhaustion.

“Hey,” you start, turning around to wrap your arms around him, “I thought you weren’t supposed to be home until eleven.”

“Supervisor cut my shift short.”

His voice sounds exhausted but not as usual after a long day at work. It borders on sounding depressed rather than tired. You search his face for any hints as to why he’s feeling the way he is. Nothing seems to give it away, though.

“Did something happen?” you ask gently.

Jaemin worries on his lower lip, “I lost a patient in surgery today.” he admits, “The little premature puppy baby. I was trying so hard to get him to a state where he could go home with his parents and-”

“Jaemin,” you speak in a sympathetic tone, “You did everything you could. We both know that.”

“There must have been something else I could’ve done for him. He was only a week old.”

You take your husband’s face in your hands, holding his ears out of his face. Your thumb gently wipes away a stray tear he was trying to keep in. He silently cries for a moment, and you don’t say anything. You stand there and wipe away tears as they fall. He’s always cared so deeply for his patients. It tears him apart when he loses one, especially while trying to save them. Once his tears stop, he sighs and starts to talk again.

“I just hate that his parents go home without him in their arms. It’s not-” he lets out a shaky breath, “Knowing what it’s like to lose a child, I hate that I know how much pain they’re experiencing right now.”

“I know.” you sigh, “I know. After we lost-”

You can’t bring yourself to finish your sentence. Though you never met your first baby, you know the pain of losing a child. Before you got pregnant with Miyoung, you were supposed to have another one. Jaemin was over the moon excited to have a baby finally. You’d been trying for months on end to get pregnant, so when you finally did, there was no bringing him down from his high. At around the eleven-week mark, though, something felt wrong. You were cramping like you had never known cramps before. Jaemin rushed you to your obstetrician only to discover that your child no longer has a heartbeat. After that, there was the spotting and eventually a rather heavy period that you knew was your body, removing the small life from your body. You had never known a low like that. Jaemin wasn’t doing much better than you were, either. He supported you through it all as best as he could.

You let out a shaky breath and pull away from your husband slightly.

“I’ll let you be alone for a few moments. I’m going to check on Mi and get ready for bed.” you inform him.

“I’ll be there in a few moments, my love.” he responds, voice still a bit shaky. 

You walk down the hall and peer into Miyoung’s room, only to see her peacefully sleeping. She’s fast asleep on her belly, one ear over her shoulder while the other is splayed out alongside one of her arms outstretched above her head. Seeing her so peaceful comforts you in knowing you’ll at least have her. You know it’s not the time to tell Jaemin about your pregnancy, though, not with his current mental state. You sneak into your en suite bathroom and start to pick up the positive pregnancy tests.

“I thought I smelled something different.” You hear your husband’s voice.

“Jaemin I-”

He walks up to you and takes the tests from you, “You’re actually-”

“I am.” You nod, “I just found out this morning.”

A bright smile bursts across his face. Brighter than you’ve seen in a while. It’s the same smile he had when you told him about Miyoung. 

“You have another little life growing in you.” he muses, placing a hand against your belly.

“I do,” you smile, tears starting to form in your eyes, “We’ll have another little one come November.”

For a few weeks, Jaemin tries to convince you to tell Miyoung already. Each time, you tell him it’s not the best idea purely because if you try to explain that to your ten-month-old, you’ll be opening a can of worms. Additionally, your daughter is brilliant and would likely pick up her father’s habit of touching your belly every chance she could reach it. Of course, that would spark multiple questions when she does it in front of someone who doesn’t know about it. The only people who you’ve told about it are Jeno and his girlfriend. They’ll be the ones to have Miyoung when it comes time for you to give birth, and you all know Jeno’s nose will quickly pick up on Jaemin’s scent embedded in you the moment he sees you. 

You’ve just about hit the three-month mark of your pregnancy without a hitch. You get to go find out the gender of the baby later in the week, which Jaemin is over the moon about. He wants another little girl so desperately that you think he may manifest it into existence. Jeno said his bet is on a boy just because Jaemin wants them to be a girl so badly. As always, Haneul is currently zooming through the home while Miyoung tries to keep up with himhaving just learned to walk. You can already tell the two of them will be thick as thieves when they’re older. Aerum is fast asleep in her room. Both Jeno and his girlfriend take it as an advantage for now. Though, the moment the seven-month-old wakes, she’ll start howling. Haneul, being two, assumes that means he can howl too. Jeno has mentioned on many occasions that he’s thankful they don’t live in an apartment anymore for that reason. 

You’re peacefully sitting on the couch, Jaemin’s arm resting along the back of it behind your head. Jeno and his girlfriend sit on the couch catty cornered to you. It seems as though you have their undivided attention, but you know they’re also keeping an ear out for their son who’s a walking safety hazard and their infant daughter who as of recently hasn’t been sleeping well. You have a hand resting on your belly despite there not being a visible bump yet. Something about the contact makes you feel heat burst through your chest knowing you have another little on the way. 

Suddenly, you feel a sharp stab of pain through your back. It feels as though someone stuck a knife in you and dragged it around from your spine to just below your belly button. It makes you scrunch yourself into a ball and immediately Jaemin has one of his strong arms wrapped around you. It’s almost as if the four hybrids can smell the disturbance in the air. Haneul comes running into the room and tries to get your attention with small whimpering sounds. You can hear your daughter’s uneven footsteps against the floor as she approaches accompanied by small honks of frustration that she can’t get there quicker. Jeno quickly and carefully whisks Miyoung and his son into his arms. 

“You go get checked out. We got Miyoung taken care of.” he informs you.

With that he takes the two little ones down the hall, you assume into his game room to distract them with his farming game. Jaemin move to kneel in front of you to try to get a read of your face. You’re very much hidden behind your hair and hands though. Jeno’s girlfriend is already grabbing Jaemin’s car keys to get everything ready by the time your husband manages to get you to the car. 

“Honey,” Jaemin asks quietly, “Can you tell me what’s happening?” “It hurts.” you gasp out, “It hurts to fucking bad.”

You know Jaemin is starting to panic. He know he won’t be able to get you to walk down the stairs and out to the car, though. He picks you up and carries you. You need to see a doctor, one that isn’t him. One that can check on you and the baby. The entire drive to the hospital is a blur. All you can think about is the excruciating pain you feel in your stomach. Jaemin keeps one of his hands firmly holding yours even as you walk into the emergency room. It’s too perfect that the moment you step into the building you see Yuta’s wife walking toward the exit. She can smell something wrong too, she walks over and helps Jaemin support you despite her small stature. With her free hand she pulls out her paging device to get the first obstetrician that she could. 

You don’t know how long you would’ve sat in the waiting room if it wasn’t for her. Luckily she’s here though. 

You find yourself admitted to a room within the hour. Jaemin is doing his best to hide his anxious state but you can read your husband like a book. He’s terrified. You’re not doing so amazing either. They gave you some medication for the pain but still you’re not comfortable physically or emotionally. All you can do is wait for this doctor to be ready for you.

“Jaemin,” you whisper.

Your husband looks over at you. One hand still tightly locked with yours while the other hand is playing with his ear anxiously. His nose is twitching too. The only time his nose ever twitches is when he’s absolutely terrified. Last time it happened was when you were going into active labor with Miyoung.

“I’m going to use the bathroom real quick.” you inform him, “I need my hand back for a little bit.”

“Do you need help getting there or any-” he immediately starts worrying.

“I’ll be okay.” you give him a pained smile.

You should’ve let him help you. The moment you begin to pull your clothing down you see the red spots in your underwear. Your heart drops. Still, you try to contain yourself and just begin redressing. Your initial plan to let your body do what it needs before the doctor come goes out the window instantly. You slip out of the bathroom and lean back against the door facing toward your hospital bed. Jaemin looks at you with a concerned but expecting face. Yours is blank though. Spotting is never a good sign when you’re pregnant, especially after getting copious amounts of pain through your back and stomach.

“Doctor. Now.” you say flatly, looking at the floor in front of you.

“Baby, is everything-”

“Get a fucking doctor in here now, Jaemin. Is that so hard to do?” you snap.

Jaemin flinches and practically runs out to the lobby area to get someone in here who could do something. Now alone in the room you break down sobbing loudly. You couldn’t care less about who hears you right now. You know your baby isn’t alive. You should’ve known the moment you got those cramps that something’s severely wrong. That’s how your husband finds you. Curled up against the wall, sobbing into your hands.

“The obstetrician is coming.” he says softly.

He pulls you to stand up and walks with you over to the bed to sit down properly. Jaemin wraps his arms around you as you cry. You’re wetting his ear with your tears but neither of you care about that right now.

“Sweetheart, I-” he sighs, “I told them to have some mifepristone and misoprostol ready too, j- just in case.”

His voice is pained. You know those medication names all too well. If your pregnancy isn’t viable, it helps your body remove the fetus without surgery. Hearing him say those words only makes you sob harder. You know your baby isn’t with you anymore, and he does too. It’s a pain you don’t wish on anyone.

After several minutes of sobbing in your husband’s arms you slow to a sniffle. The obstetrician walks in a moment later and ushers you both toward where the ultrasound machinery is housed. You’re numb now. You can’t feel a thing emotionally. As a psychiatrist you know you’re disassociating, but maybe for right now that isn’t the worst thing.

Jaemin still holds your hand tightly, eyes brimmed with tears. You go through the motions as you move your shirt and the doctor places the cool gel against your belly. It takes mear moments for her to find the baby and confirm your worst fear. You knew it was coming, still, it’s another stab through your heart. Jaemin bursts into tears beside you, his hand letting go of yours for the first time since he returned from getting a doctor. His ears fall in his face as he looks down at his shoes.

“I’m so sorry for your loss.” she says, voice laced with pity, “Would you like to know what they would’ve been had you gone to term?”

You nod silently.

“Dad?” she asks carefully.

“Yeah,” he says through sniffles, “If you could.”

“A little girl. Seems as though she would’ve been human too. There was no early development of rabbit tail or ears.”

Jaemin lets out a pained noise. You feel all your emotions rush back through you and tears stream down your face as the doctor wipes the gel from your belly. As you leave the hospital with the medication in Jaemin’s hands you feel as though you enter some sort of dissociative state again. You don’t remember getting in the car or Jaemin calling your Samoyed hybrid friend asking if they could keep Miyoung for the night. All you know is that you stay in the car and suddenly Jaemin comes back with a bag full of things Miyoung will need. 

When you arrive back at the Lee household your one-year-old is anxious to see you. Jeno’s girlfriend tries to contain the two toddlers but Miyoung is practically climbing your leg when you enter her field of vision. Her long tan ears bouncing with each motion she makes. Neither of the other two adults need to ask what ended up happening. It’s evident that you and your husband have been crying. Jaemin had explained to you after your first miscarriage that he could smell when your pregnancy was no longer progressing. So when you see Jeno’s ears droop slightly, you know he knows what happened. 

“Baby?” Miyoung asks when you pick her up.

“No, sweetie, no more baby.”

The sentence pains you to say but you don’t want to lie to her either. She doesn’t need to know what happened, she’s fine just knowing that mommy doesn’t have the baby anymore.

“You’re going to have a sleepover with Haneul and Aerum, okay? You get to have lots of fun while Mommy and Daddy do boring adult things.” you explain to her.

That’s all she had to hear. She squirms in your arms to get down. Jaemin leans over and kisses her cheek before you do the same and put her down. She and Haneul zoom off again, likely to cause trouble somewhere. Jaemin passes the overnight bag to Jeno, who quietly takes it.

“I’m sorry, guys. I don’t know what it’s like but-” Jeno starts.

“You’re right. You don’t.” you say curtly, “Jaemin can we leave now?”

You don’t even let your husband respond. You walk out of the home and back to the car. Jaemin lingers a moment and gives your friends an apologetic look before bidding them goodbye.

The drive home is silent. You keep your hands folded in your lap the entire time as you look out the window. You’re avoiding looking at Jaemin for now. If you look at him it’ll be the last pebble that will break the dam. The moment you pull up to your house you get out of the car and walk toward the front door, still not looking at your beloved bunny hybrid husband. Just as you reach the door though you feel Jaemin’s arms wind around you from behind.

“I know it’s hard, but don’t ignore me. Share the burden with me. It’s the least I can do as your husband and father of our children.” he says against your hair.

Again you start crying, “Child. We have one child.”

“We have three.” he states firmly, “Only one is with us physically but we have three children.”

“Why does it have to be so hard for us to-” you interrupt yourself with more tears.

You turn around in his hold and cry against his shoulder in the cool late spring night air. If anyone driving by sees you they pay you no mind and likely assume you’re a young couple sharing a romantic moment. They couldn’t be more wrong.

“And with how my pregnancy records seem to track it’ll only get harder as we get older. Jaem, we’re only 26 but I’m worried that it’ll become nearly impossible by the time were 30.”

“I know. I know.” he soothes, rubbing your back gently,  “If it ends up being that we only have Miyoung with us then we’ll love her as much as we can.” he offers, “Maybe so much that she’ll want to go away for university because she’s tired of us.” he jokes slightly. “Now, you clearly need some food in your stomach and a drink of water. Let’s get inside and into more comfy close. Cuddles all night, doctor’s orders.”

Jaemin keeps his word, the moment you’re fed, hydrated, and in more comfortable clothing you’re snuggled up in your shared bed. Your head is pillowed against Jaemin’s chest and you play with his fingers absentmindedly. Your mind seems to run a mile a minute while also being completely blank.

“I love you.” you whisper so quietly it’s practically a breath.

“I love you too. Thank you for being my wife and the mother to our babies. I’m so proud of you and you’re so damn strong. Never forget that, okay?” 

You nod, “Okay, I won’t.”

“I mean it,” he continues, “I don’t know how I lucked out this much but I wouldn’t trade it for the world.”

“Even if-”

“Nothing. I wouldn’t trade it for anything.” he stops you before you could finish your thought, “I love you so much. We’ve had far too long of a day and I fully plan on cuddling you the entire night.”

“I love you too. Good night, bunnyboy.”

“Good night, my love.”

COPYRIGHT STARLITMARK 2023© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED — reposting/modifying any fic or piece of original writing posted on this blog is not allowed. Translations are not permitted. 

Networks: @kwritersworld @k-vanity

Tag List: @jaehunnyy @umbralhelwolf @wooyoungmybelovedhusband

[tielwrites]

BAT!DAD finding out Jason’s death.

I was inspired by Neytiri’s rage in ATWOW, like damn that is a parent’s anguish and rage. So for now let’s bask into the grief.

WARNING: ANGST, CHARACTER DEATH, VIOLENCE, and BLOOD.

M/N paces around the living room in the manor, waiting in on the update about Jason’s whereabouts. He tries to will himself to calm down, however his patience is running thin from his worry. Every second that he does not hear anything about his son.

The father deeply sighing, remembering what he saw earlier in the bat cave. Joker’s maniacal laugh blasting from the speakers as he shows a beaten up Jason on the wheelchair.

His face was branded with a ‘J’ on his left cheek, nose dripping with blood. His face black and blue, face streamed down with blood. Making M/N gag at the pool of blood on the floor.

His Jason, his son, tortured and kept down in the chair.

Oh how M/N wanted to grab him from there and free him, holding him and protecting him from this evil bastard of a clown.

But no, all he could do is watch as the villain bashes shadow with a crowbar on his hand, the crack of the bone going around the cave, making M/N’s stomach churn and his chest going tight at the horrid and cruel scene.

“You have one hour batsy!” The Joker says with a manic smile, eyes staring at the camera as if looking at the two parents.

Bruce takes off with his Batmobile to wherever Joker’s whereabouts were. Leaving M/N staring at the screen, now black, his heart pounding fast and ears ringing.

—————————————

An hour has passed and M/N is biting at his nails on the couch. No updates yet, the wait is grating on the male, making his stomach churn in worry.

Alfred goes to him, seeing his state, the butler walks towards him stopping a few feet away from the man.

“Would you like some tea Master M/N? It could help you.” Alfred says.

The father looks up at the butler and sighs, willing his heart rate to calm down.

“Yes please Alfred, thank you.”

Alfred nods and goes to the kitchen to prepare the herbal tea. M/N now pulls his knees to his chest to curl into a ball. Trying to calm himself.

It wasn’t until the door slams open, making the father jump from the seat in surprise.

Bruce is here.

M/N races to the front and as he nears the hallway, he comes into a sudden halt. His eyes wide as he stares at the two figures at the entrance.

Bruce carrying Jason in his arms.

Dead.

His sweet boy in his husband’s arms. Bloody and DEAD.

The male raises a shaky hand to cover his mouth in shock and anguish.

“No, no, no, no,” M/N says softly, eyes starting to tear up, “no, Jason, no.”

Bruce still looking down, not daring to look up to see his husband’s grief stricken face.

“No, no, NO! NOOO!” The father screams out as he moves forward to get closer to his husband and son. His boy, who was far too young to be taken from this cruel world. It was as if a part of his heart was ripped off his chest.

“JASON! NOOO, MY SON!” M/N continues to scream as tears started to stream down his cheeks, ears ringing and legs shaking from the sight.

M/N drops to his knees on the ground, Bruce going with him. The father takes Jason from the vigilante’s arms and hugs him close. Bruce lets him as he now stares at his bloodied gloves.

“NO, MY SON. NOT MY SON. GOD WHY. WHY!?” The grieving father continues to scream out, his voice straining.

M/N continues to rock his body, his son close to his chest, his arms tight around the cold, dead body. His shoulder’s shake from his continuous sobs.

Alfred saw the whole scene with shock, as he hears your anguish wails echoing in the corridor.

The butler steels himself and goes to the pair, he kneels down and placed a hand on the crying father, making him turn to the butler.

M/N let’s out a loud wail, as he looks up, his eyes blurry from all the hot tears flowing out of him.

“Master M/N,” Alfred says softly, “we need to bring him to the cave to clean him.”

M/N bawls out more as he presses Jason closer to his body. Not wanting to let go of him. His cheek onto the boy’s hair.

“No, Alfred. Please, don’t take him away.” M/N sobs out as he starts to cough, his throat scratchy from how tight and strained it has become.

Alfred sighs as he turns to the quiet vigilante, still out from the world. Wallowing into himself in his head.

“We must clean his body from the blood Master M/N so Master Jason can finally rest.”

The father shakes his head and grits his teeth.

“You can carry him, I will not take Master Jason from you, we will just need to clean him in the bat cave.”

M/N starts to consider it in his hazy mind, as he tries to calm his cries down. He coughs out as he tries to clear his throat, he turns back to Jason in his arms and bites his lip to not let anymore cries out.

“A-Alright.”

Alfred then stands up straight and waits for M/N to stand up, he then turns to Bruce.

“Master Bruce.” Alfred calls out.

Bruce finally looks up at the butler and sighs out a shaky breath and nods. He turns to his husband and helps him up as Jason stays in M/N’s arms. Bruce looks at his husband’s face, eyes red and swollen, tears staining his cheeks.

Grief has over taken his love.

How could he have let his son die at the hands of his nemesis.

Bruce cups M/N’s cheek and the other looks up at the vigilante with tired and grief filled eyes.

Oh how the world is cruel.

——————————————-

Hello so here are the things that happened and some headcanons:

Batdad was at the brink of divorcing Bruce when the other refuses to kill Joker when they capture him.

Tensions were high at the manor at all times, it always ends up with a full blown argument between the two.

Dick regularly visiting Batdad to keep him company and to comfort him.

Ever since Jason’s death Batdad has withdrawn to himself, blaming both himself and Bruce for not being able to protect him. To save him.

Bruce letting his rage and vengeance fuel him to keep patrolling at night, sometimes not even coming home to sleep, just to stay at the bat cave just to watch the city.

When Bruce adopts Tim, Batdad at first couldn’t bring himself to welcome the young boy with open arms. Jason’s death still taking a toll on him.

But within time Tim was able to worm his way into Batdad’s heart.

When Batdad found out that Tim was going to be the next Robin. All hell breaks loose in the manor. A screaming match between the two.

“YOU WANT TO LET ANOTHER BOY DIE IN THE HANDS OF THE JOKER!? HAVING ANOTHER BLOOD SPILLED IN YOUR HANDS!?”

“HE WANTED THIS M/N! I NEED HIM TO KEEP THIS CITY SAFE WITH ME.”

After that it strained M/N’s relationship to both Bruce and Tim.

When Jason come’s back as Red Hood from the dead, and you reunite with him by saving Batdad from some villain when you got kidnapped.

After that encounter Batdad would always meet Red Hood at night. Visits him at the enterprises, after the visit it leaves the man feeling as if he was talking to his dead son.

After it was confirmed that Red Hood was Jason from one of their visits. Jason taking off his red helmet, and of course getting an armful of his father. A tearful and sweet reunion.

I’m gonna leave it at that, you can imagine the rest. Thank you for reading hope you enjoyed it.

[melanieph321]

Ruben Dias x Black Reader - The Bodyguard Part 2/8

Yeah, this picture should be illegal.😮‍💨

Summary - Reader is a popstars in trouble and Ruben is her new bodyguard, here to protect and help her find out who wants to hurt her. But what happens when the relationship between Reader and Ruben simply gets too personal?

Enjoy!

Although in doubt at first, you eventually got used to having a bodyguard, someone following you around wherever you went. For the most part Ruben kept his distance, a silent flash in the corner of your eye. He didn't speak if not spoken to and he drove in a separate car than you and Taylor just to have a better eye on what was happening in the street. It all seemed like standard protocol for a bodyguard. However, you quickly found out what mite distinguish Ruben from others in his field.

One sunny afternoon, you found yourself longing for a fun-filled shopping spree with your close friends. Follwing a long week of rehearsal and studio sessions, not to mention the many interviews. You yearned for a taste of normalcy, away from the glaring spotlight and hordes of people wanting things from you. Determined to make your dream a reality, you shared your plans with your management team, a.k.a. your sister, oblivious to the storm it would soon unleash.

"What do you mean you need a break?"

"It's just one day off."

"A day off? Y/N do you know how much preparations we still have ahead of the drop of your new album, ahead of the tickets release of your world tour?"

"I do and that's why I need one day to reset. I just want to go downtown with Elvis and Keke. They say there's a huge sale on Birkin bags."

"God, why did you give me this job of taking care of someone who never listens?"

"Because he knows I need you." You smiled.

She sighed. "You've got two hours."

"Four."

"Three and you're taking Ruben with you."

"No way!"

"Yes way, especially if you're going out with those crazy friends of yours."

Ruben hadn't expected you to leave the apartment today and he definitely didn't expected you to barge into his room without knocking first.

"Oh, sorry." You said, lowering your gaze at the sight of a shirtless Ruben.

"Do you mind?"

"I'm sorry I..."

Ruben was just another shirtless man, nothing to be flushed about. However you had never seen that much outline of muscle on a human being before.

"I'm just letting you know that I'm going out." You said, speaking to him but looking at your feet.

"Alright, just give me a minute and I'll be right there."

"Right."

You slowly raised your head, a slight ache in your chest.

Ruben turned to look at you, furrowed brows. "Was that all?"

"Whatta hell is that?"

Ruben was wearing a type of undergarment. A piece of fabric that surley resembled a..."

"It's a bullet proof west."

"What for?" You frowned.

"Taking bullets."

He grabbed his t-shirt from the bed, buttoning it over his vest. It was barley visible underneath.

"I know your not wearing that for my sake." You scolded. "Don't expect anybody to shoot me up, especially not Mr Dickonataor 3000."

Somthing flickered across Ruben's face, another tinted expression, this time with a hint of a smile. He sealed the last button's to his shirt and stepped up to where you stood. "Always expected the unexpected Y/N."

His warm sent is what overwhelmed you,  but also the the sound of his voice when he whispered your name.

"I'll tell Taylor to bring the car around."

You nodded. "Okay."

It was obvious that when Ruben caught wind of your desire for a carefree shopping day with friends, alarm bells rang in his head. Ensuring your safety was his utmost priority, and the thought of you venturing into public without his watchful eye deeply unsettled him.

"Oh my god, did you hear about Tanya?" Elvis gasped. "She obviously OD'd last month but the press has us thinking she caught an illness."

Keke snorted. "I bet her management is paying TMZ to keep quiet."

"What do you think Y/N?"

Shopping with Elvis and Keke was fun, with them life seemed so easy and scandalous. They didn't make you feel like a hard working international popstars, but one of the girls, which you never got to feel like being homeschooled as young.

"I hope she's okay." You said. Tanya was a singer just like you. A bit older but with so much experience of being in the industry. She helped launch your career by introducing you to some very influential producers and to that you were forever greatful.

"Speaking of okay," Elvis said, looking back at the shadow that was Ruben, walking slowly behind the three of you. "How is this your life now?"

"Please don't remind me." You sighed. "My sister is just paranoid about the death threat I got last month,  you know the one where the man sent me a bloody knife with the DNA of a racoon."

"Yes, hahaha. That was hilarious!" Keke laughed. "How did he even get your address?"

"Welp, my sister didn't think it was funny and now I have my own personal bodyguard."

"He is fine as hell, no? Do you think he'll guard my body?"

"Stop it." You hit Elvis in the arm.

It wasn't annoying having Ruben around, it made you feel safe. However, having him around 24/7....

His unusual presence didn't go unnoticed. There were fans who gathered around, snapping pictures and screaming in excitement. Yet, instead of basking in the attention, you found yourself growing increasingly frustrated with each passing moment. With Ruben, determined to maintain his hyper-vigilance by directing your every move, skillfully weaving through the crowd and dismissing any potential danger like a hawk. His overprotectiveness grew more pronounced, calling unwanted attention to you and your friends, creating a spectacle wherever you went. Thus it didn't feel like you were getting a day off, but another day in your crazy life as a popstars.

"Man, let's just go to my place." Elvis sighed. "I have like four bottles of wine from the event my company had yesterday."

"Y/N, you coming?"

Watching your friends drift further away, you couldn't help but be overcome by a sense of longing for the same freedom they had. You longed to immerse yourself in the energy of the city, shop till you dropped, and savor the precious moments of normalcy of going home and enjoying a bottle of wine. However, Ruben's constant presence loomed over you like a shadow, smothering your zest for life.

Feeling suffocated, you approached him, voice laced with frustration and desperation. "Ruben, I appreciate your concern for my safety, but I need some space. I need to feel like a regular person sometimes, without the constant intrusion. Can't you trust my judgment? Trust that I can take care of myself, just this once?"

Ruben's expression softened as he realized the weight of his actions, that they might have taken a tool on you, especially when you we're still getting used to having him around.

"We're are you headed?" He asked, expression motionless.

"Just to my friends house, we're having dinner. I'll have Taylor pick me up after."

He nodded. "Okay."

"Okay, really?"

"Yes it's fine, just..."

Ruben stumbled backwards as you ambushed him with a hug. "I'll see you later." You smiled, leaving him visibly stunned by your actions.

If you knew Elvis you knew that a quiet night with the girls always turned into a full blown party. By the time the three of you had down the four bottles of wine, Elvis had called half the people on his contact list. E - list celebrities that were desperate to be seen in a picture with you.

"I loved your last album, so many great songs were on it."

"Thank you, which one was your favorite?"

"Oh, you know..."

"I do...?"

"Yeah, you know....perhaps that one featuring that rapper?"

"You mean my song Dirty Laundry ft. Lover Boi?"

"Yeah, that's the one!"

"Gee thanks." You said and rose to go to the bathroom.

Whoever said that their favorite song of yours was Dirty Laundry didn't really care about your music, only the hits that were featured in luxury commercials or backgrounds songs for Tik Tok trends. The songs that you actually put your heart and mind into never seemed to get the recognition they deserved.

"Y/N, you good?" Elvis asked, as you past him on your way to the bathroom.

You had a lot to drink, becoming more and more forgetful of yourself. There was flashing lights in your face, people taking pictures. Your sister wouldn't like that. She always told you that a good image is important to withstand and being publicly intoxicated was not withstanding that image.

"Let me help you with that baby."

You couldn't find the bathroom. And the fact that you were so drunk frightened you a little. You oriented your way out of Elvis apartment, taking the elevator down and stumbling onto the street. You were fumbling with your purse looking for your phone when a strange man popped up, asking if you needed his help.

"I'm okay, thank you."

"Hold up, aren't you Y/N?"

"Um...no."

"Yes you are. You're that girl in that video with Lover Boi."

"Please don't..."

"Eyo, Tito, look who it is!"

"Call your friends..." You sighed.

Soon a crowd of pedestrians had gathered around you taking pictures of you like a monument in the middle of the street.

"I'm sorry, I need to..." You fumbled with your purse, unable to locate your phone to call Taylor.

"Shit, it's TMZ!"

Soon the tiny little flashing phones turned into full blown flashing cameras and photographers, or paparazzi as you've learned to call them, shouting things at you.

"Y/N show me those legs!"

*snap*

"Having fun on your night out?"

*snap*

"How many drinks have you had to night sweetie,  you look a mess."

*snap.*

"You guys please."

You hoplessly tried to diverged the snapping  cameras from your face, hiding it behind your arm. But it was hopless, you couldn't get away. The paparazzi were circling you like a shark, snapping pictures, never having enough.

"Please I... don't feel so well."

You lost your balance, falling onto your knees. This resulted in the cameras snapping more violently and no one coming to your rescue, that is, until Ruben.

"Out of the way!"

He barge through the crowd out of nowhere, not caring about who he pushed aside. He got to you and brought you up on your feet. You were walking in the air, the way that he carried you through the crowd, with one hand around your waist, pinning you to his side.

"You're okay, I got you."

You got shuffled into a car, his car, tires  swirling on the side walk as he drove away.

Although you  were drowsy, you noticed how he kept turning his head to the backseat, checking on you.

"Where almost home, I'll get you home." He said, sounding genuinely concerned.

It was all a blurr from then, how you got to your apartment, how you even got into bed that night? All you recall was Ruben's strong arms around your waist, and him, repeating the words "I got you."

[vampcubus]

KISS HCS | markus & the jerrys

a/n: say lesssss 😩 dbh is on the brain rn y’all so expect more of these.

Markus (RK200)

— When you first kiss Markus it’s like time stops, the type of kiss you hear about in cheesy romance novels where the world fades away around the two characters. When your lips meet it’s like suddenly he’s your whole world, he consumes your thoughts, your senses, like he’s wrapped himself around you. And when you come to, having forgotten you were in the middle of a literal battlefield, he’s gone as quickly as he came.

— You feared for him so much that day, because if he died before kissing you like that again you’d never be the same.

— DON’T WORRY THE VICTORY KISS MADE IT ALL WORTH IT.

— Markus likes to take his time, savoring every moment in your embrace. Kisses deeply like he wants to feel your lips against his for eternity, and when he does pull away he looks at you like you’re the moon.

— A sap, in short.

— Smiles into kisses! He can’t help it, you make him so incredibly happy.

— Cradles your face in his hands, the type to tug at your leg and encourage you to hop up so he can carry you while he smooches you. Fairytale romance king.

— Likes it especially when you wrap your arms around him from behind while he’s cooking and you pepper kisses from his shoulder up his neck. Sighs happily and tilts his head for better access, of course not without a bit of snark. He does like to tease you every chance he gets, deliberately turns his face when you lean in to kiss him on the mouth so you miss. Laughs when you pout but blushes furiously when you grab his jaw and force his face the way you want it so you can slot your lips over his.

— Markus is fighting for his life not to burn meals because you’re always distracting him, and you’re always so tempting…

— You like to take his fingers when he’s deep in thought and raise them to your lips to kiss, which never fails to make him melt. He likes it even more if you do it when he’s pulled his artificial skin away to reveal the white plastic. He says it feels “more” underneath but refuses to elaborate.

The Jerrys (EM400s)

— Enthusiastic and clueless! Kissing isn’t necessarily a part of their programming so they aren’t the best at it, however they enjoy it very much. You kiss one and the experience is shared with the entire “hive” and the next thing you know you’ve got a single file line of Jerrys wrapped around the carousel for a turn.

— They’re always so excited to see you, so oftentimes they really can’t help but pile onto you and smother you with kisses wherever they can reach.

— You’ll have to be a bit of a teacher to get them to kiss you “properly” but luckily their hive mind mechanics means you only need to give one of them a really good lesson and the rest will have absorbed the information from the experience. That said they all become very good at it, and figure out ways to get more kisses than the others. There’s rarely infighting amongst the Jerry’s but a little competition never hurt anybody right?

— They’ll come running to you after completing tasks for their “reward” and you start to feel a little like a kissing booth. They are very much like excitable children running up to ticket counters to redeem their prizes. You’d complain if it weren’t so endearing. You explain that they don’t need to do anything to earn kisses from you and that you do it because you love them. Cue to the whole park sobbing happily what have you done?

“Really, Y/n? You mean it?”

“We don’t have to do anything at all?”

“We just have to ask? Truly? 🥺”

“We love you too!”

— Very smiley during kisses, sometimes you have to remind them to move their lips with yours because they’re smiling too wide. They just- ugh they love you so much and you make them immeasurably happy. Overall 10/10 kissers with proper guidance, would recommend. Your lips are gonna be bruised as hell tryna keep up with them all, however.

[cyberghu0l]

Take a Break

Prt. 2

Your wife, Shuri had been staying up in her lab the past couple nights and not paying you attention as she use to. She realizes she must pay you close mind after you give birth to your twins.

You turned over as the sun kissed your delicate face. The changes of giving birth was just starting to surprise you, first was waking up without having to worry about squishing two other lives inside you. Your eyes fluttered open taking in the scene in front of you. Your wife holding one of the pair, playing with his fingers.

You smiled as you bludded up in the blankets. "They are handsome." She spoke. You thought about your next words carefully. You love Shuri to death, but missing your children's birth was unforgivable. "Where were you, Shuri." She set the newborn back down and sat next to you on the bed.

"What I did was unforgivable and you don't have to hear out any of my excuses." You listened as she explained herself. It was a constant routine you two went through, her explaining and you forgiving. "I was in the worst pain of my life, and I needed my wife with me. I didn't need the panther, or queen of Wakanda, I just needed Shuri." You sat up, swallowing the tears daring to fall.

"And you weren't there, I had Okoye in your place. And before her it was Ayo, and before her it was the caretakers, and before her it was your mother. Everyone but you Shuri. What is going on?" Your voice raised an octave. She'd never seen this side of you. It hurt her to see she made you this way, and wanted to do anything she could to help. She would give you the world if she could.

"My love. You know all that I do and that isn't an excuse." You began to get up from bed and getting dressed. Her stories were getting old and you were getting annoyed. "It is not." She followed you to your closet. "It never occurred to me how long I've been spending at my work, I just want everything to be right and perfect." You turned around facing her.

"Everything you make is right and perfect, you shouldn't be working down there for hours to the point where you miss the birth of your kids." Shuri sighed. "Can you come with me?" You finished putting on a shirt and leggings. "Where?" Your wife smiled sneakily and grabbed your hand. "The twins?" "I'll have someone look after them." You had no other choice but to follow her wherever you were going. It was still in the palace, that was the only thing you knew.

At some point you two stopped at a door with a key pad next to it. Shuri typed in a pin and and the door opened. The room was light brown with paintings of black panthers, Shuri, her mother, father, and T'Challa. There were two cribs set in one corner, and a box of toys next to a play set in another corner. Along with other things for a newborn's care. "When did you do all of this?" You walked around amazed.

The queen stood at the door frame watching your movements. "All day, all night. It was a bit challenging building a room right under ours." Then it hit you. You only went down one floor, and the view out the window was the same. "That's why you were gone for so long?"

"Sadly."

"But the windows, and the babies?" You thought back to the attack on the palace and how Namor had killed her mother. "The whole palace has been updated with 2 protective barriers and protective windows that can stand against even my blasts." You looked back at her surprised. You loved the gesture and loved her even more for it. In the back of your head you still hated how not even Okoye could get a hold of her.

"Usana." You walked to her wrapping your arms around her neck. She looked at you sweetly. "You need to update me, please. I was hurt and terrified. If you are going to be in the twins life, you need to actually be here." Just as you finished, Shuri brought her forehead to yours. She sighed deeply, holding onto your waist. "I know I know. I will spending time with them and you."

"And no more staying up late in the lab. Anything you make works perfectly fine." She pulled away looking at you with furrowed eyebrows. "Just because something works does not mean it cannot be improve." "Well you can start with improving my sleep schedule, you're on night duty for the twins." Her eyes widened. "Yes, no words." She laughed at your orders.

"Ndiyakuthanda, uthando." She pecked your soft lips. "Ndiyakuthanda, uthando"

◇◇◇

It's been 4 years and the boys were now 4. Shuri's night duty continued until they were 2, she insisted after she felt bad for leaving you alone for all that time. Since then, it's only been date nights, and days spent with just the four of you. It took a couple of months for you two to start the naming process, but when you did you settled on Zoloni and Zandi.

Being the incredibly intelligent parents you both were, you thought that telling them apart would be a breeze, but everyday it became harder and harder.

You woke up to a giggle coming from your bed. You turned over and saw a bump in the covers between yourself and Shuri. You tapped her awake and pointed to the giggling bump. She pulled the cover up revealing one of the pair. A loud laugh filled the room as your wife pulled him into her lap. "Who is this? Interrupting my sleep." He giggled again.

"Oh noo, you know what happens when you wake mother." You looked at him with a sly smile, he watched Shuri's eyes closely for her next move and didn't expect her to tickle him. His laugh grew louder. Once she stopped, she asked him, "Now, why are you up so early Zoloni?" His expression dropped, instantly being replaced with a pout. "I'm not Zoloni." Shuri furrowed her eyebrows.

"But you have his laugh." You chuckled. "They are twins, my love." Then the second of the pair popped up next to you scaring you a bit. "I am Zoloni." You sat the other in your lap. "No, you are Zandi." You remembered their faces perfectly. Zandi was getting Shuri's nose slowly but surely. And Zoloni had a beauty mark on his forehead.

"Nope, you're Zandi and you're..." You now had it mixed up. The twins started laughing as they looked at their moms. Shuri caught on. "I am holding Zoloni." He giggled to himself. You chuckledtealizing the trickyou two fell into. "Let us go get breakfast before the Black Panther comes for you!" You shouted as the pair got up running, Shuri following close after them.

nothing too bad, wanted to end off with some fluff bcs why not. and we can all agree mom Shuri would be the cutest. and don't say any bs abt two girls having babies, shuri smart asf and probably figured out a safe way😒anyways hope you all enjoyed it, ill prob be doing series in the future so lmk what you guys think<33

[alexa-fika]

Little Gardener's Pirate Odyssey Chapter 3

A/n: Chapter three, here we go! It is at this point that now I am overthinking and overanalyzing every single sentence cause I'm scared it will ruin the flow of the characters and the overall plot but we cooking homies

Dividers by @firefly-graphics and @sweetxmelody

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2

“I do,” Sanji nods,

“I’m guessing she’s had a rough life so far?” He watches as Viridi caresses Alexandra, a soft expression appearing on Sanji’s face as he watches the interaction.

“She has,” Viridi sighs.

“I will answer all the questions you may have, as long as you respect our decision to skip questions if we feel they are too personal or if it may put her in danger.”

Sanji nods his head understandingly, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it.

“Sounds fair enough,” he says, glancing at the fairy as he slowly exhaled the smoke in a thin wisp.

“Are you two okay with me asking questions now?”

“Make it quick,” Rogue grumbles.

“Don’t mind him; he just wants what’s best for Alexandra, though he goes about it the wrong way,”

“Okay,” Sanji says with a slight chuckle.

“So, where did you guys come from? North Blue? She mentioned she got those powers when she was young. Did she eat a devil fruit?”

“We are not from a round here, nor are we familiar with names or geography of the place, so I’m not sure what is ‘North Blue’, but we came from really far, im also not sure what a ‘devil fruit’ is but no, she did not get powers from eating something”

“That’s a really long story, and it gets quite grim. Are you ready for that?” she adds.

“I’m ready.” He sighs, realizing the story he’s about to hear probably isn’t a pleasant one, but he nods his head anyway

“We are not from around here; all three of us are from a different world, you remember how Alexandra got scared once we got here?”

“Yeah, you said people were fighting near her, and she got scared and ran and ended up hiding in the cabinet.”

“Well, when we ‘jump’ from world to world, we really don’t have any control as to where we end up; we just kind of follow along wherever it takes us. Alexandra loves adventures, so we just go along with it; she just didn’t expect the first thing to see to be fighting and roughhousing.”

“Huh, I see; so you can jump to different worlds at will?”

“Yes, Rogue and I have been given that power by Alexandra’s big sister.”

“Older sister?” He glances up at Viridi, raising an eyebrow.

“Where is this older sister now? Why wasn’t she with you guys?”

“Well, she is a sworn sister just like the rest of her siblings, but to go into that, we should start by the beginning, from where Alexandra was born.”

“Okay,” he says, putting the cigarette in his mouth and inhaling deeply.

“All three of us came from a world named Kénbori; it was a world filled with magic. Alexandra was from a village in it called Tihayo; Alexandra’s parents and the rest of the Tihayo village served as guardians to Kénbori, always aiding those who called for them with their powers as the villagewas the home of a unique race, even amongst all the magical creatures that filled Kenbori, shapeshifters were seen as powerful guardians deities guided by Village heads who not only possessed the ability to transform their bodies into animals but also had the affinity to a specific element, which would change from head to head.”

Sanji’s hums, brow furrowing at the new information,

“And Alexandra was a shapeshifter?”

He receives a nod from the fairy at his inquiry.

“At the time of the tragedy, the village heads at the time were Alexandra’s parents. Esther, an owl hybrid with an affinity to poison, and Vanny, a wolf hybrid with an affinity to sound. As was tradition, Alexandra was expected to be the next village head. Still, there was one problem, despite Alexandra inheriting her father’s hybrid features and what seemed like an incredible sense of hearing, no special affinity had seemed to develop. To make matters worse, she also seemed unable to shift.”

Sanji frowns, having a bad feeling about where their story is headed.

“This didn’t sit well with some of Kénborians, especially ones in a higher power such as Kings and Religious heads.”

“They couldn’t accept a girl who didn’t have immense powers to protect their sorry asses, even though the Henkan Clan had protected their pathetic life and the life of their ancestors for thousands of years,” Rogue snarls.

“Shapeshifters are also known for their immense, almost immortal-like lifespans, so Esther and Vinny had indeed protected those people for thousands of years,” Viridi adds to Rogue’s statement.

“Huh,” Sanji’s frown deepens.

“What did they do?”

“A shapeshifter’s powers develop as soon as they are born, so it was immediately evident that Alexandra was different. The higher powers didn’t take kindly to this; we didn’t know it then, but those in power had come together in secret meetings for years to try to summon something more dangerous and powerful to protect them instead of Alexandra….and they succeeded” she says, a bitter undertone in her voice.

“I still remember that day; the stars looked as if they were falling from the sky, and from one of them came what the higher powers had been trying to summon, a dark entity, one who relished in devastation and pain. They had hoped that the entity would be indebted to them for freeing him from his Starry prison,” Viridi said, glancing at Sanji.

“They were wrong;Jaime had no intentions of ever being under anyone’s rule, regardless if all their rituals were the ones who freed him; he obliterated them,” Rogue states.

Sanji’s head snaps up in surprise as he looks at Rogue,

“He killed them?”

Viridi nods

“I heard it from neighboring kingdoms; Jaime easily took over Kénbori slowly. He was able to bring immense pain with a single glance, and he did so with glee, happily torturing any poor soul that stood in his way. Even though the higher Kénborians were the ones who brought this upon Kénbori, Vanny, and Esther couldn’t turn a blind eye to the innocent Kénborians who didn’t ask for this, nor could they watch as the world was consumed with death. But they also knew it was a losing battle; to Ensure Alexandra’s survival, they used an otherwordly power to open a portal to a different world away from Jaime and sent us with her.”

“We were residents of Tihayo, and we were looked down upon because of our races, but Alexandra stumbled upon us; despite her being a toddler, she still had that innate want to help, and she introduced us to her parents, who immediately took us in and treated us with nothing but kindness So we agreed to protect Alexandra and help her escape, but Jaime was quick. We weren’t able to escape completely unscathed. “

Viridi flutters next to Alexandra’s knee and gently moves her skirt to reveal a big scar just below her knee; it seemed as if something had cut her open previously.

“He managed to injure her, but her parents stopped him from killing her and held him back; the only thing we could do was to run through the portal with little Alexandra and watch as the portal closed behind us with the Henkans fighting Jaime to protect her daughter, we had to watch as Jaime killed them, laughing in glee while doing it.

Sanji looks down at the scar as Viridi talks, looking at it with a sense of horror, and then he glances up at Viridi, a bit shaken by the new information. He looks back at Alexandra in his lap, still peaceful and quiet.

“We raised little Alexandra for over 50 years alone, until we stumbled upon Miyu, a moon goddess. Fate works in weird ways because we found out that her magic was the ‘otherworldly’ power that had saved us and allowed us to escape through that portal in the first place. Alexandra has an innate power to connect to people, so it wasn’t before long before they had become sworn sisters. Years after the Faens family grew and with Miyu’s power, they created a whole new dimension, a home where they could be safe.”

“The brat loves exploring, so she asked Miyu to bless us with the power to create portals to different worlds. She agreed, but seeing as it is only a fraction of her power, we don’t have much control over it, so we just let us take it wherever we end up. Thus how we are able to go from world to world ourselves and how we are here. Miyu and the other Faens siblings trust the brat to us to keep her safe, as they should, knowing no amount of convincing will keep her still,” Rogue finishes.

Sanji looks up at Rogue and Viridi with a sad look still clear on his face. But deep down, he was glad that despite everything, it seemed that Alexandra’s parents had gone through so much pain and trouble to protect and raise their daughter and had people by her to help her through the cataclysm.

Viridi gives him a tight smile.

“I did warn you it was quite a long story.”

“Yeah, you definitely weren’t wrong,” he sighs, chuckling dryly,

“You said earlier you would answer all of my questions, right?”

“Yes, I did. Do you still have any questions?”

“Hm, I think I just have one for now,”.

That was a lot of background, but I feel like it will set up the mood for the future, and it helps Sanji connect with her more. I think next chapter is gonna have wholesome fatherly sanji in action 👀

[ashintheairlikesnow]

The Low Road

Sigh Not So | Secrets Hid Away | Shed Tears Aplenty | Fire Down Below | Rolling Down | Won’t You Go My Way? | The Seas No More | The Nightingale’s Song | Bones in the Ocean | For She Was Afraid | Time for Us to Leave Her | To Unchain Me | A Good Time Coming | I Long to Hear You | The Low Road |

CW: Gender dysphoria, some references to murder

Kiraya woke up in someone else’s clothes.

At first, with eyes gummy and feeling like sandpaper from crying and a dim throb of headache still teasing around the edges of her awareness, she didn’t notice. She yawned, so wide her jaw ached, and winced from the way the sun shone against her eyelids, warm and strong.

There had been no more songs from the sirens, there had been no answer to her calls. She had given up, gone to bed, and while she'd expected to toss and turn she'd instead slept like the dead, waking with muscles aching from being in the same position she'd laid down in.

She arched her back, moving to stretch her arms above her head to ease them into waking, too, and then stopped when she felt fabric stretch nearly to its limits that hadn’t been there before.

She sat up, then, going in a single solitary breath from still half-asleep to fully, horribly awake as she stared down at herself and realized she was already fully dressed. She'd been laced so tightly that there was no room for her to fix her body to suit her mind - the low neckline simply showed collarbone and skin, no gentle curve... and her skirts had an old-fashioned volume to them as she eased off the bed and slowly stood up.

“Gods above,” She whispered.

She was even wearing stockings and boots.

Heart in her throat, she slowly looked down at her body. 

She was corseted, the sort of corsets no one had worn in a hundred years or more, with a scandalously low neckline instead of the high necks that were stylish now. Long sleeves had such tight cuffs around her wrists they felt like prison restraints that were simply lacking the chain between them. Heavy petticoats and skirts swung as she shifted from side to side. Her boots were solid brown, equally old, and the leather was shining but still worn and a little cracked at the toe. 

“Someone dressed me,” She whispered, and unease slithered up her spine like a worm made of ice, making her shiver as she crossed her arms in front of herself. "Someone dressed me while I slept."

Someone had come into this room, arranged her body to their own liking, taken all of her clothes off - someone had seen her naked, while she slept - and then redressed her like some boneless doll, to be played with at their whim. She had thought she was cried out, but at this new tears tried valiantly to sting her eyes with fresh heat.

The siren must have sung again, right? She must have been forced into sleeping so deeply, magicked into it. The siren, doing the bidding of Wentworth-... oh gods, had it been Wentworth to take her clothes off and look at her body?

Had it been-

Her eyes went to the pitcher of water on the table next to her bed. She'd drank plenty before becoming tired and falling asleep. Perhaps... perhaps it hadn't been the siren.

Maybe it had been something tasteless slipped into the water.

She moved quickly, stumbling a little in the unfamiliar boots, to pick up the pitcher and pour the water right on the floor, tipping carefully and not dumping, one hand holding her skirts back to keep them from getting splashed.

When she looked at the bottom of the fully-emptied pitcher, she saw tiny grains clumped there, undissolved evidence.

She'd been drugged into depthless sleep.

She could trust nothing in this house not to harm her.

Outside, birds sang to each other, and squirrels leaped from tree to tree, leave rustling and branches swinging wherever they went. The world went on as normal, while inside, Kiraya Losna had been… drugged senseless, touched and moved and manhandled, and she had absolutely no idea if they had done only what was needed to dress her or far, far more.

There was a knock at the door and she jumped, hands trembling as she touched her swollen lower lip. It still stung, but at least it seemed to be healing. “W-who is it?”

Her voice was shaking. Kira cleared her throat, tried to steady herself, to stand up straight with her shoulders back. Courage, she told herself. If she was going to make it out of this house with her mind her own, she would have to have courage against every horror thrown her way.

“Who is it?” She asked again, more steadily this time, her hands gripping her skirts tightly to steady her fingers. “Who knocks?”

“Mr. Babbage, Miss,” The butler's voice came from the other side of the door. “Nadette is here to aid you with your hair before you sit down to breakfast with His Lordship.”

“Like hell,” Kira whispered, viciously, but then put her hands up over her face and tried to think. “I would like to decline His Lordship’s invitation,” She managed, and was proud of herself for how strong she sounded, how her voice in no way echoed the terror within her soul. “Do thank him for it, but I think I should prefer to eat in my room today.”

There was a pause.

“His Lordship will dine with you,” Babbage said eventually, “Whether in the dining room or in your bedroom. If you would… prefer he come in here, I could remain as chaperone-"

“No! Absolutely not!” Kira groaned internally at how quickly she answered. Damn Babbage and his propriety. She moved to the door as if drawn to an early grave, and once more found the doorknob moved easily under her hand, swinging it open to see Nadette and Heinri Babbage on the other side. Nadette seemed placidly content and Babbage, to her surprise, actually showed a bare hint of the misery she had seen reflected in his eyes when they had briefly cleared before. His smile was strained. "Good morning, Miss Losna."

"Good… morning, Mr. Babbage, Nadette. I should-... I should of course be glad to accept the lord’s invitation. My hair is a mess, though, quite a fright really…”

“I’ll have it lovely-looking in moments, Miss,” Nadette said cheerfully, moving into the room without waiting to be officially welcomed. She paused, pulled up short as her eyes took in the subtle changes and shifts in Kiraya’s face now that her jaw was more angular and strong, her lips thinner, the way her dress was flat at the bust now and hung off her narrow hips. The dress did nothing to hide any of it. Kira had false busts and hips pads, of course, plus she knew all the cosmetic methods needed to soften her face… all women who had need of assistance in creating a certain sort of figure or set of expressions had such knowledge, no matter the circumstances of their birth - but she needed them so rarely, thanks to the spell, that she almost never bothered to unpack them.

Now… she wished she had. 

Kiraya swallowed, though, and raised her chin to meet Nadette's gaze evenly. No matter how it sent a shudder of unease through her when people saw the wrong body, she refused to show it for a second. Let them see Olen Losna’s body.

Kiraya was still who they were speaking to.

Nadette moved again, pulling a chair over by the window and then humming as she drifted around picking up a hairbrush and ribbons, as if nothing had ever happened. “It’s my special talent, of course, doing hair, Miss.” Kira exhaled in relief. Miss. Whatever Nadette might think, she was good enough to keep to herself. If she'd said anything else, Kira might simply have begun screaming and never stopped. “It’s why His Lordship was so set to hire me, I turned him down twice but the money was so good... well, and I was so lucky to get to ply my trade on Lady Marguerite before she passed…” Her voice trailed off, sorrow making it plaintive and small. “Terrible thing, the tuberculosis…”

“Yes, quite terrible.” Babbage shook his head mournfully. “Quite terrible indeed. The way she suffered… in any case, Miss Losna, please do not dawdle. His Lordship does not like to be kept waiting.” 

He turned to leave, and Kira reached out to grab him by the arm, startling him - and herself - at the strength of her grip. “Please, Babbage, before you go…”

“Yes?” He blinked.

“Who… who chose these clothes for me? I-I woke up wearing them, you see…”

“Oh. Hm.” Babbage gently pulled himself free of her hand. “I couldn’t say, Miss. No one has been in your room at all, so you must have chosen them yourself. These old rooms are full of so many things, you know, His Lordship never could stand to get rid of anything. He’s terribly sentimental that way...”

“But I didn’t,” Kira pressed, hoping to see that flicker of realization and conscious thought she’d seen the day before. “Mr. Babbage, I woke up wearing these clothes. Someone was in my room, someone-... put me in these. Someone did that while I was asleep!”

“No one was in your rooms,” Babbage repeated, more firmly. "No one." His voice shifted gradually into the haze she was beginning to recognize with loathing. “Perhaps... Miss Losna, perhaps you were sleepwalking.”

“But-... No. No, of course, you must be right. Sleepwalking." Kira told herself not to argue, not to force them to dig any deeper into their thrall to hide from truth they weren’t allowed to face. She took a breath, steadying herself, pressing a hand over her stomach as her corset fought her attempts to breathe. “I should-... have Nadette loosen these laces, I-I think-”

“Of course,” Mr. Babbage said smoothly. “I’ll leave you to it. Please let me know when you are ready to head downstairs to dine and discuss your terms of employment with His Lordship. I shall be just outside."

The door closed in her face, and Kira stared at the patterns in the wood for a few seconds before turning in defeat to cross the room to where Nadette and her hairbrush waited. “Nadette…”

“Yes, Miss?” As she sat, Nadette began to brush out her hair, carefully working through the thick, slight waves to bring it to a softness and shine Kira rarely managed on her own. “I’m thinking of a simple braid today, to keep to His Lordship’s favorite styles.”

The moment she heard Wentworth liked braids, Kira wanted to never, ever braid her hair again. She wanted to rake her fingers along her scalp until it stood up straight, become a frightening thing, bare her teeth like the siren downstairs had bared his fangs.

And yet when he'd sung her into a spell, all he'd said was please help me.

She only smiled, thin and false. The serving-girl didn’t seem to notice. “Of course. Can you tell me, Nadette, whose… whose clothes am I wearing?”

“Oh.” Nadette made a sound like a happy little chirp and began to separate her hair into sections, running soothing fingers through it. “Oh, those are very old, Miss, but His Lordship says he could never bear to part with them. He’s so sentimental that way!”

“So they’re… whose, though?”

Talking to Wentworth’s servants was an exercise in speaking in circles. Kira wondered if something about the siren’s spell did that on purpose or if it was a side effect, since they had to think in circles to avoid understanding their tenuous, terrible reality. 

Nadette gave a simpering, apologetic little smile. “Sorry, Miss. I get a little worked up, His Lordship is so kind even to his possessions…”

Kira thought of the imprisoned siren below trying to scratch his way out of heavy wooden doors and his unkempt, tangled hair, his bruised body and shadowed eyes… the way he had flinched back from her touch and fled from her despite his superior strength, his sharp teeth and claws… 

She shuddered, but said nothing as Nadette’s nimble fingers began a complicated six-part braid, seemingly effortless. “He is indeed. Quite kind.”

Somehow she kept the sarcasm out of her voice even as it screamed through her mind. 

“Your clothes belong to Lady Eliza Howe Wentworth,” Nadette said, voice soft and oddly nostalgic for a woman she certainly did not remember. “The very first Lady Wentworth… Oh, they do say she was quite a vision, you know, very delicately made… Terrible shame, what happened to her.”

Kira swallowed. Outside, a little sparrow alighted on a close-by branch, and she watched it, envying its freedom of flight, as it sang to all and sundry a tale of the tree being its personal belonging. She thought the siren downstairs must understand the feelings of the tree. “Let me guess,” She said, feigning idle curiosity. “Tuberculosis?”

“Hm? Oh, no, that sad family curse came later. No, they say Lady Howe was sailing back to the colonies to see to her estates, and she… well. There was an unsteady wind, and… she fell, Miss.”

“She fell?”

“Into the ocean, Miss. She went into the water, they say, and was never seen again. I'm sure those heavy skirts dragged her right down below. Lady Montgomery, her companion, was still here and they say she went mad from grief and had to be put into an institution. She and the first Lord Wentworth had gone to an opera during their mourning period, you see, and supposedly Lady Montgomery began screaming terrible things to anyone who would listen, mad ravings about the first Lord Wentworth… things none could credit to be true. It was a terrible scandal, nearly ruined the Wentworth reputation before it was all patched up again by a few good marriages and, well, mostly by time. King William himself supposedly met with the first Lord Wentworth about the matter and declared him officially innocent of wrongdoing."

So he'd had the siren sing to King William, too.

“Wait, wait." Kira's mind was racing. "Lady Montgomery? I don’t… I don’t remember any such name?” Her mind raced, remembering the portraits on the wall, but nothing came to mind.

“Oh, Lady Montgomery wasn’t family, exactly… Atabei Montgomery.” Nadette hummed. She paused at her work, holding tight to the braided hair that hadn’t yet been tied off. “You can see her right there.” She gently urged Kira’s head to the left, and Kira turned to look at a portrait on the wall.

The woman in the portrait appeared to be in her late forties or early fifties, staring directly out at the viewer. She was painted in strokes of cool and warm browns, with the brilliance of her eyes standing out all the more thanks to an otherwise monochromatic palette. 

There was a terrible sadness in those eyes, as they met Kira’s. As if the woman herself were still in the picture, trying to speak but kept mute by the passage of time and oil paint smears that never let her mouth open even an inch.

Nadette tied the braid off with a ribbon. It made Kira’s neck feel far too vulnerable and bare. “Atabei Montgomery was the first magician to serve the Wentworths. The one who gave him the sea serpent. It was all very romantic, Miss, they were childhood best friends who spent their whole lives together. She and Lady Howe had become quite close as well, hence the madness when Lady Howe died.”

“I see.” Kira thought about the sweet, simple smile of the woman in the Eliza portrait downstairs as compared to the complicated grief worn so openly in the eyes of the portrait of this Atabei, and wondered if Atabei Montgomery had remembered everything, and just been unable to speak… unable to act, to disobey, to rebel… until her love was dead. “And she died in the asylum?”

“She came home for the last few days, but the story goes that she really died when Lady Eliza did, and they only brought her home to bury them together. They’re side-by-side, you know. Like-” Nadette leaned down, whispering, “Like husband and wife.”

Kiraya stared down the portrait of Atabei Montgomery and wondered what sort of man keeps women captive to be wife and servant for decades, then buries them together, acknowledging their love only after their deaths. Or…

There was too much here she didn’t understand.

“Nadette…” She took a slow breath, then winced as the fabric of her dress protested. “The magic on the s-... the serpent must be redone once per decade, right?”

“Right, Miss.”

“So… it has been eleven years. Was there no magician to be found a year ago?”

Nadette swallowed, her eyes moving away. Kira turned and looked up at her, catching the way the serving-girl’s expression briefly cleared and then fogged over again. The siren’s power over them was waning as the magic controlling him waned. If they could only delay long enough, or free the poor thing, then Guilford Wentworth would face a rebellion from everyone he employed.

If she could only hold out… 

“There was one,” Nadette said, softly. “He is buried in the family cemetery, too.”

“What-... what happened to him?”

“The monster tore out his throat. It took us ages to scrub all the blood from the tile...” Nadette shook herself, then, and her sweet empty smile was right back on her face. “We must finish getting you ready, Miss. His Lordship will be waiting most impatiently to dine with you.”

Kira nodded, letting the line of questioning go for the moment. She got to her feet in a long-dead woman’s dress, wearing a dead woman’s boots and dead woman’s stockings, her hair plaited in a way far out of fashion and wearing ribbons that the same dead woman no doubt adored, once upon a time.  She looked at herself in the mirror and shuddered. Not only was she in the wrong body, the wrong clothes were on her as well. “Nadette, please-... loosen my laces.”

“Miss?”

“They’re just a bit tight, if you could loosen them…” 

Once it was done, she moved to stand in front of the window, her hand already moving to draw the magic and make things right. If she'd been new at the spell, it would have been hard without the mirror reflection to guide her, but by now she knew every single motion by heart.  

Each piece of the body she made was armor against the darkness that wound around this house and its inhabitants. Her face smoothed and softened, eyes widened, neck lengthened, curves drawn and then settled into her body like they should have been from the start. Her eyes closed as the magic settled, like a blanket when the night outside is cold.

"Oh, lovely," Nadette whispered behind her.

Kira smiled, opened her eyes, and turned. "Let's go," She said, voice firm. If she had to face Guilford Wentworth wearing his dead wife’s clothes, make small talk and know that his eyes were on her, then she would at least do so in the body she deserved and with every weapon she could give herself through thought alone. 

-

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

For @whumptober day 30: borrowed clothes

[bluesfortheredj]

The power of love.

Everyone had been on high alert since Max had her brush with Vecna, and if someone didn’t reply to you within a couple of seconds it was assumed they were also under his curse, so you had to be ready at all times else be shaken at the shoulders. Max had described her symptoms in great detail so that at the first sign of anything untoward the person could be monitored closely. It was scary for everyone involved, made even worse by the fact that if you saw a grandfather clock in the real world you’d have to ask if the others were seeing it too.

“(Y/N)… (Y/N) are you okay?” Eddie worries, watching as you stare off into the distance while he strums his guitar next to you.

“Yeah,” you sigh happily, “I’m fine. Just listening to you.”

The two of you were side by side sitting up in bed as his fingers lightly plucked at the strings on his precious instrument, and you turn to face him as he continues after checking you were alright.

“You had another nightmare last night, didn’t you?” he questions without looking up, “you were shouting out.”

You return to your original position sitting up against the wall, then swing your legs off of the side so your back is to him. In all honesty you were terrified, but you didn’t want to worry Eddie with every single headache or nightmare you had as you knew it would only hurt him. He moves around on the bed until he’s kneeling behind you with his guitar lying to the side of you both, and his arms cross over your chest as he cuddles you into his body.

At first you relax into his touch and hold onto his forearms as you lean your head back onto his shoulder, but all of a sudden you become stiff and it’s as if you’ve fallen backwards into the bed.

“(Y/N),” Eddie gasps, feeling the change in your touch, “(Y/N), please!”

He kneels up and carefully guides your body back on to the bed where he sees your eyes have shut, and your eyeballs are moving manically around behind them.

“Sweetheart, please come back,” he begs, stroking your face.

You’re shouting out for Eddie as you get up off of this strange, uncomfortable bed that was  a mirror image of the one you’d just been on. A ticking begins and you look towards where you think the sound is coming from to find the familiar yet eerily different surroundings of the trailer. You walk down the dark hall into the lounge area to find a clock in the corner, ticking away ominously as you desperately search around for any sign of Eddie, and your skin begins to crawl as you hear your name being called from the abyss outside. Your heart begins to beat furiously against your ribs until all of a sudden your eyes fly open to see Eddie hovering above you.

“It’s started,” you gasp, your chest moving rapidly with panicked breathing.

Eddie’s hands cup your face, “what did you see?”

“Uhh… it was here… the clock inside the wall… the ticking…” you stutter.

“Okay, okay, it’s fine, we’ll just have to take the tape player wherever we go,” he tries to reassure whilst looking absolutely terrified himself.

You sit up slowly, releasing yourself from his grasp, then exhale deeply, “I need to go and see Max, I’ll be right back.”

“I’ll come with you,” he offers, getting up off of the bed.

“Eddie,” you sigh sadly as you place your hands on his chest, “I don’t want you to hear the answer to what I need to ask her.”

He places his hands on top of yours, “that is exactly why I need to come with you. You may be in it, but I’ll be the one seeing the effects it has on you in this world, and I’m going to be shitting my pants.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, “I’m just trying to protect you from all of this, but I can’t.”

“I don’t need protecting,” he smiles with a wink, “I’m big enough and scary enough to look after myself.”

You lean up to kiss his lips, “you’re the least scariest person I know, Munson.”

The two of you walk over to Max’s trailer and lightly tap on the door, your hands shaking as they do. She answers, her tape player clipped to her jeans with the headphones around her neck, and reads your nervous expression quicker than you can explain why you’re there, then steps aside to let you both in with none of you having to say a word yet.

“What did you see?” she asks, looking at you.

“I was in the trailer but in the other world and the clock was in the corner by the sofa, then a voice said my name, it was like a deep growl.”

Max nods at what you’re saying, “sounds familiar.”

“I just… I need to know, is it easy to get out?” you ask, already knowing the answer deep down.

She looks at Eddie then back to you, “no. If you run he has ways of getting you, there’s vines everywhere on the floor and he controls them. You need to be so careful.”

Eddie gets up from his seated position and turns away as he runs his hands through his hair angrily, “I need some air,” he announces before exiting.

“How did you get away?”

“He had me tied to some sort of pillar with those slimy vine things but as soon as the song started playing a hole opened up behind him, a long way away, but I could see the whole scene at the graveside with me up in the air. I thought of happy times with everyone and it was as if he wasn’t as powerful while this was happening. I had to hurt him so I could be freed, and he threw everything at me as I ran towards this vision, but you’ve just got to do it. The earlier the song is played, the more of a chance you’d have,” she explains, fiddling with the wire of her headphones nervously, “I’m sorry it’s not better news.”

“It’s okay,” you smile, placing your hand on hers, “we’ll beat this thing one way or another.”

“I hope so.”

Eddie returns having heard everything through the door and he looks at you sadly, dreading that he’d lose you.

“Thanks Max,” you sigh, giving her hand a squeeze before getting to your feet.

“If you need anything, you know where I am.”

“Thank you,” Eddie nods, holding his arm out for you to take his hand.

“Where did you put the walkman?” you ask, making sure he knew where it was.

He leads you over to his car and points in through the passenger window, “right there baby, don’t you worry. It’s locked and loaded, ready to go.”

You look up at him with a smile before leaning your head on his shoulder as your arms wrap around his body and hold him tight.

“I won’t let anything happen to you,” he whispers against your hair, “I’m not losing you.”

You squeeze him a little tighter in response to his words, then let go and head straight to bed; dinner suddenly seeming a lot less appealing now you knew Vecna was coming for you. Eddie makes some toast while you settle down to sleep and he decides to sit up next to you on the bed to keep watch as you doze off into a hopefully peaceful sleep.

The next thing Eddie knows, the covers are being tugged from underneath him and he wakes with a start as he sees your body lifting horizontally from the bed, the sheets slipping off of your body thanks to him weighing them down the other side, “shit shit shit! No! No!” he panics as he jumps up and heads out to the car to grab the walkman.

“No no no no,” he mutters as he untangles the wires while he runs back inside.

It’s dark, really dark, and all of a sudden you’re surrounded by a faceless crowd who are getting nearer and nearer, closing in on you as you scream for them to stop.

“(Y/N), it’s time,” that deep, rumbling voice sounds out from the darkness, “time for your suffering to end.”

You look up from your curled position on the floor to see him, the man you’d been terrified of meeting for so long, standing mere feet away from you, and it takes all your might to get up and run; jumping over the long vines that crossed your path.

“Eddie!” you cry out, “please!”

Suddenly you trip and thick tentacle-like thing wraps itself around your ankle, dragging you towards Vecna as your wrists are bound as well.

“Come on come on,” Eddie breathes as he finally puts the headphones over your ears and presses play, “come back to me, please. Don’t leave me (Y/N), you have to find your way back,” he prays.

You’re lifted from the ground, your body in reality also turning until you’re vertical above the bed, much to Eddie’s horror, and finally you can hear the opening lines to the song you’d chosen.

The power of love is a curious thing, make a one man weep, make another man sing…

Just as Max had explained, a hole in the never-ending darkness opens up to show you hovering above the bed as Eddie freaks out beside you, calling your name over and over again between declarations of love. You take a quick glance, not wanting to take your eyes off of Vecna for too long, and tears begin to form at the corners of your eyes as you hear how distressed Eddie is.

You don’t need money, don’t take fame, don’t need no credit card to ride this train…

Your eyes close as you remember the first time Eddie had played this to you on guitar and attempted to sing it too, his face red from a sudden shyness that wasn’t like him at all, then try to smile through the tears.

It’s strong and it’s sudden and it’s cruel sometimes…

The hold he had on you was getting tighter by the second, but the memories were getting stronger; Eddie’s sweet smiling face as you clapped him after the private performance, the two of you seeing Back to the Future as many times as possible at the movies, the happiness you felt when he’d asked you to be his.

But it might just save your life…

You open your eyes to see Vecna’s hand above your head, then with your one free foot you stamp it down onto the vine wrapped around the opposite ankle, snapping it in two and shocking him into releasing you.

That’s the power of love…

Tripping over yourself, you stumble to your feet and manage to run towards the scene of Eddie crying in front of your floating body, and you ignore the rubble and rocks being thrown your way as you do.

That’s the power of love…

“Eddie!” you scream, getting nearer.

“I love you, please… why isn’t this working?!” he shouts, hitting the bed rapidly with his fists.

A rock lands directly in front of you, smashing to the ground with force and blocking your path momentarily but you jump the remains of it and throw yourself at the cloud like apparition.

“(Y/N)!” Eddie gasps as your body drops to the bed.

You yelp as you land with a bounce and Eddie throws himself onto the sheets so he can wrap his arms and legs around you to keep you close. You’re still adjusting to being back in the real world as Max rushes inside after hearing Eddie’s cries, and she’s by your other side within seconds, grabbing onto your hand tightly after knowing what you’d just been through.

“Are you okay?” she asks.

Eddie reluctantly loosens his grip on you so you can breathe, and the two of you sit up as you move the headphones down around your neck, “yeah,” you pant, “I think so.”

“Eddie, can you get her some water?” Max suggests as he sits there wiggling his leg up and down anxiously.

He nods before disappearing out of the room, “you sure you’re okay?” Max checks.

“I’m fine, honestly,” you smile, your breathing now calming down.

“Okay,” she says, returning your smile, “keep that walkman fixed to you at all times.”

“I will.”

“I’ll leave you two to talk.”

She gets up and leaves just as Eddie returns with a glass of water for you, and they nod to one another as they pass. He stands in front of you to hand you the glass, his arm shaking slightly as he extends it slowly, and you take the water with one hand as the other holds onto his forearm. You take a sip before watching Eddie drop to his knees and hang his head in silence, his arm slipping from your grip.

“Hey,” you whisper, hooking your fingers underneath his chin and lifting his head so you could see that beautiful face of his, “you’re the one who got me through this.”

“I was powerless to help,” he says with a shake of his head, his bottom lip sticking out just a little as his eyes well up again, “all I could do was watch.”

You put the water down on the bedside table and slide off the side of the mattress so you land on his thighs, “you, Eddie badass Munson, saved my life just then. Will you please take some credit? It wasn’t just the song that brought me back, it was you. Memories of us together… it was literally the power of love. You strumming that song on the guitar for the first time because you knew Back to the Future was my favourite film, the way you nervously sang along as I sat there completely enthralled by you, and the moment you asked me to be your girlfriend.”

A smile finally makes its way across his lips as he cups your face with his hands, “I’m just so happy you came back to me,” he sighs before swooping in for a kiss.

Request: eddie X reader where she goes under vecnas curse but they know about the song saving her so do that to bring her back!!

[toomuchracket]

i just typed out like 14 ross hcs/requests but i’m gonna take a deep breath and not annoy tf out of u so. here’s one

something a little angsty a little hurt/comfort he’s just having a rough time on tour like maybe he’s tired it’s catching up to him and he strikes me as the type of person who’s guilty that he’s sad (“i’m supposed to be the happy friend” type beat) and when he calls you hes just ugh i’m getting old it’s getting hard i just wanna come home to you point is he’s just so DOWN and you feel so bad you can’t do anything about it and then you and the guys plan a surprise visit for you to wherever in the world they currently are and you just. comfort him. maybe bring some home To him yanno

i answered quite a similar vibe here but i didn't quite go into detail on ross talking to you so i'll do that! so he's got your candle lit and he's waiting for you to finish work to call him - as soon as he picks up and says hi, you know something's up. and you're like "baby what is it?" and ross is like "... i'm just so drained, love. and not just from playing shows with not a lot of time off in between - i miss you so much. have half a mind to just get on a flight and come home tomorrow". and you're so sad for him and shocked - ross would never leave tour like that, he loves his job and he loves the boys, so you know something's definitely up. you're like "have you not told the boys how you're feeling? i'm sure they'd help you feel better" and ross says "nah, i haven't. s'usually me doing that to them, i think they'd probably freak out if i needed reassurance haha" (a mirthless laugh), and you're like "oh baby, i wish i could be there" and ross sighs like "i wish for that too, more than anything. but i'll be ok, my love - anyway, tell me about your day, distract me a bit". so you do, and ross genuinely does cheer up a bit, but after you hang up to go to sleep he just sits on his bed and cries a little when the boys find him. and they know something's up - when matty sends you the cute pic of the boys the next day he also says "hey, don't wanna upset you but ross is proper struggling with being away. had your candle burning the whole day yesterday" and you reply like "ah fuck he told me he was down but i didn't think it was this bad. i hate it", and matty's like "look i know you guys agreed it wouldn't make sense for you to come on tour, but i think it's the best thing for him. up for that?" and you agree. you fly out the next week and jamie meets you at the airport and drives you to the venue so you're there to surprise ross when he gets there; you sit in the green room with a coffee, grinning as you hear the boys' voices increase in volume as they near the door, and wave as they all enter like "surprise!". and ross genuinely tears up when he sees you and just runs to grab you and hug you tightly - you're like "sorry if i stink i literally just got off a plane" and ross laughs and he's like "i'm lowkey sick of your perfume anyway i've been burning it in candle form for weeks", and you're jokingly like "oi!" and ross giggles like "never gonna be sick of the taste of your lips though. may i?" and you nod and he just kisses you so deeply (george is in the back oohing like a 12 year old but everyone else is cheering). and you just kinda sit with ross as he preps for the show, and stand at his side of the stage as he performs - he's so much more relaxed and happier with you there cheering him on and blowing kisses, and i think he doesn't let go of you at all from the minute the show ends <3

[luv-assangiebatch]

The One Where I was Written Into My Favorite Scene...

Courtesy of our own @bethanys-adventure

Recently, our fic-senpai Bethany shared some of her Kassangie archives with me-- and I remembered this one quite well and fondly-- as she wrote me straight into one of my favorite scene from The Fifth Estate! That's right-- The Pirate Bay shirt scene!

Effective Immediately

“Everything’s going out at once in case there’s a gag order”

“I’m struggling to keep it to 14 pages.”

Julian was bombarded with pages that two members of the guardian were giving him. This was all about his upcoming leak, the biggest one yet. This was the first public release of 91,000 Iraq war logs.

Kat was standing outside the office, not wanting to disrupt the meeting. Since she was not technically part of the WikiLeaks staff (she still managed to convince people that she was Julian’s PA) nor a journalist, she saw it best to keep her nose out of those sorts of meetings.

“Kat?”

Kat looked up to see Daniel walking towards her.

“Oh, hello Daniel!”

“Where’s Julian?”

Kat pointed to the office behind her “Why, what’s going on?” she questioned curiously, she noticed that Daniel sounded annoyed. She then wondered if the reason why Daniel was angry was because of Julian.

‘Of course not! They’re best friends!’

‘Well I did overhear something about a major unedited upcoming release of Iraq war logs… maybe it was that…’

Daniel nodded and annoyed, he almost burst through the door of the office “Julian.” Kat saw Julian look up and that was it. She didn’t hear the rest, she could only see. Julian looked a little annoyed and then stood up.

He walked out of the door, Daniel and possibly Ziggy (the new intern) trailing behind. Kat knew that this may not go well. She sighed and looked at Julian, who was wearing her favourite Pirate Bay shirt underneath a white button up (with all the buttons undone).

“What were you thinking?” Daniel growled.

“We make a promise to our sources to publish in full” Julian retaliated.

“You lied to everyone, you lied to me!”

“It’s funny; I don’t remember you objecting us publishing the names and addresses of every BMP member”

“These sources are fighting for the very thing we are supposed to stand for!”

“And remind me what that is exactly? Hm? Transparency for powerful organisations? Exposing corruption wherever it exists?” He turned to face Daniel.

“We’re going to have to push back publication. There’s no way we can publish in 4 days!”

The two entered another room, Kat decided to follow Ziggy, who waited outside. She sighed, knowing this would end badly.

“14 pages in the Guardian. 12 in the New York Times. This is more coverage than all of the leaks we have had combined. We are winning an information war! Which goes beyond the short term alliance we have with the mainstream media and you want to throw it all away because you fear that some US government informant might come to harm?”

“These are human beings Julian, there are lives at stake!”

“What about the lives of the soldiers and the civilians involved in these conflicts. Death squads, unreported civilian casualties, Countless incidents of ‘friendly fire’! This is information the world needs to know! So the next time you find yourself lecturing me about this organisation, please try and remember why I created it and why I hired you to help me.”

“That’s funny; I don’t remember you hiring me. I don’t recall a contract or a salary. But I guess I should have known when I met J Lim, there is no organisation. There’s just you and your ego and the lies you tell to get whatever the fuck you want!” Daniel almost shouted as Julian walked away a few steps.

Julian inhaled deeply, trying not to show any signs of anger “You know it’s incredible.” He mumbled loud enough for Daniel to hear “How much time you can spend with a person and still have no idea who they are.”

Daniel nodded a few times, clearly fuming. Kat had her fist close up to her lips in anxiety, the tip of her index finger poking the bottom of her nose.

A few more people had gathered out to see this argument.

Julian finally broke the silence “You’re suspended.” He turned around “Effective immediately.” He clicked his fingers and pointed at Kat and cocked his head “Love?” Kat knew the signal and followed him. As she was about to walk down the flight of stairs, Daniel grabbed her arm “Kat, you’re not really going to do this? You’re not going to follow him? Are you?”

Kat sighed “I’m sorry Daniel, I really am.” She brushed Daniel’s hand off of her arm and continued to follow Julian. When she had finally caught up with Julian, she could tell that he was fuming- even more than the incident with Sam.

He didn’t speak a word to her until they reached the hotel room they were staying in, obviously trying not to take his anger out on her. Kat stopped in front of Julian, with her left hand she cupped his left cheek and with her right hand, she curled a few strands of his hair in between her fingers and nuzzled his nose.

“Kat. Please.” Julian sighed.

“Hmm?” Kat mused, signaling that she was paying attention.

Julian then paused “What did Daniel say to you?”

“Julian, are we really going to talk about this now…”

“Yes, what did he say?”

“He asked me if I was really going to follow you. Whose side was I on.”

“And whose side are you on?” Julian questioned.

“You asked me a while ago if you had me. I will always be on your side Julian, always and forever. Not even Daniel can convince me otherwise.” Kat pulled Julian into a hug, pulling her head into his chest.

Julian nuzzled the top of her head and kissed her forehead. He smiled and said “Is it because you love me or you love the Pirate Bay shirt?”

Kat giggled “You know I can’t say no to that shirt and the maroon hoodie… and the cargo pants. But you know that I love you more than your clothes.”

Julian grinned “Thank you Kat. Thanks for everything.”

***

Later that night.... 😏🔥