#they held down surprisingly well their personalities. but there is just this missing spark in looking at a character with such features

[r0semaryt3a]

Hiiii, could I please ask for how you think the Phantom Troupe would act to being hugged / held by their S/O for the first time? Thanks 🥰

WOAH I FORGOT ABOUT THIS ONE-

It’s been done for like months now I just entirely forgot to post it I’m so sorry Anon.

-

I’m here for the fluffy ideas (I will warn, I feel like these are a tad Ooc as this is mainly based on my own personal headcannons woven into snippets of what we see in HxH) it’s nice to write them!! I’m gonna admit I haven’t written anything in a dang hot minute so this was: interesting to proofread.

Characters: Chrollo, Feitan, Pakunoda, Shalnark (I know that’s not a lot compared to my other 2 but I was flagging so hard for ideas)

Chrollo

Despite his occasional interest in domestic life and the comforts that came with it, Chrollo never pushed for physical contact.

You’d sat down together before, reading under candlelight, but had never really been lovey dovey. It wasn’t a prevalent concept within the Troupe.

Which is why, when you’re sat beside each other -both enthralled in your own separate texts- a slight jolt races through him as your palm meets the top of his hands (your thumb absentmindedly tracing circles). It was nothing major: nothing that was noteworthy. his eyes barely left the page before him, but, it was nice.

However, when your book settles on the floor and your arms wrap around him. Well, that he can’t not notice. At first the scene is quite awkward, or to him, it’s not like he’s never been hugged before: more the lack of preparation. Chrollo’s shoulders were raised and his hands seemed to struggle to find their place. It’s not like you’d particularly notice this, the small fumble is a fleeting moment.

Once the initial shock had settled though, the two of you lay comfortably together. His head resting agaisnt yours and yours resting agaisnt his shoulder.

Let me tell you, though he may not have shown it, his heart skipped a couple beats. Having you agaisnt him, arms laying around his waist, it was a slice of domestic bliss he truly savoured. The life his city had given him was a life he did cherish, but the spark of normalcy you provided was always a treat. (You’d later find out: this would be a regular occurance anytime you read together; any attempts to protest against the idea would be immediately shot down.)

Feitan

Feitan isn’t big on touch. Never has been.

He prefers all his limbs free to move, he’s an agile person who heavily values his own self autonomy and being able to react in a matter of milliseconds. Nothing more than simple handholding (for no more than a specified 3 minutes 24 seconds) has passed between you two.

So, when you practically jump at him with open arms: he seizes up.

Seriously, you almost gave him a heart attack.

“Off.” “Off now.” Is all that would be said as he tries to pry you off from whoever you’d latched on. Safe to say: the first time you give him a hug is certainly an interesting event.

Don’t get me wrong, you don’t miss the way his eyes dart towards you; and how almost immediately his body eases once the initial shock had faded. Nor do you miss the way: he does indeed reciprocate the act.

A mixture of happiness and annoyance fill him in equal measure. On one hand: the sudden contact had dusted his skin a slightly reddish hue, for all his protests, Feitan’s well aware it’s a show of comfort and given your relationship: it’s not an action he particularly hates. On the other hand? No.

This moment does however, spark the slow build up to your first “proper” hug (and the many more things that would follow)

For now though? It’s best you don’t try that again. For a while.

A long while.

Shalnark

Surprisingly tense.

You’d think a member so seemingly well composed would be better equipped to hug his partner. But, no!

It takes about a minute for him to actually reciprocate the hug, a series of awkward pats meeting your back before he (not at all subtly) peels you off of him.

It’s almost like the action completely resets him, as in a matter of seconds he’s laughing and pulling you in for another hug. The scene is…sweet enough. Though, the action is swift with the two of you parting (again) and Shalnark instead slipping his hand over yours: fingers intertwining as he began to jump from topic to topic.

Physical touch (especially that of unprompted physical touch) is an odd spot for Shalnark. Sometimes, he loves it! A goofy grin is sure to paint his face as he reciprocates the action. Sometimes, it seems like a completely foreign subject to him.

Pakunoda

This woman adores you.

Completely and utterly.

The second your arms wrap around her: she is beaming and quick to reciprocate the action.

Arguably the most openly emotional. It may just be a hug but it makes her heart flutter! Her arms come to rest upon shoulders as she pulls you in close, the act a rather jovial scene. A simple smile is painted upon her face the whole time, it’s honestly quite surprising that such an act could light her up like a child on Christmas.

Any surprise your hug may have sparked is almost immediately washed away the second she realises what’s happening.

As with any of the members: her lightbulb moment is slow. None of them are particularly touchy individuals after-all. However, Paku is certainly the quickest in her return of your hug.

After the moment you’ll find her fingers laced between yours more often than not..

—

I feel like there’s more I could do with this idea but I’m entirely sure how to lay it out in the scenario/headcannon based format these are usually in, so, who knows! If someone wants a oneshot of the idea with a specific troupe member I’ll be happy to deliver-

[cozzzynook]

Rodimus is a sailor and Soundwave is part of a deadly pirate crew. But they get ship wrecked and stranded on a island and have to get along long enough for help to arrive.

Ooooh they have to get along on the island because its just the two of them

- Rodimus is good at cooking and making safe drinking water and fuel for the two of them while Soundwave is adept at building shelter in the trees so they don’t get hurt by the natural life living on the island

- the two do not like each other at first and Rodimus makes it abundantly clear he wants to stay as far from Soundwave as possible. He turns his back to the deadly pirate of Megatrons legendary crew and goes off on his own.

- surprisingly Rodimus is fine on his own and only sticks beside Soundwave when the mech is almost eaten by a giant electro serpent in recharge.

- this is tfp Soundwave we’re talking about so the mech is quietly gazing at Rodimus with an unreadable expression as Rodimus burns the serpent to ash with his fire.

- rodimus takes a look at him, makes sure he isn’t bitten or hurt and then turns to leave only for Soundwave to follow like a creep.

- Rodimus does not do well with Soundwave trailing behind him but he eventually gives up because while he can survive on his own, he is getting weaker by the day as he goes without his medication.

- he can try hiding it but Soundwave sees it in the way his digits tremble, he stays laying down or sitting and tries to go where Soundwave can’t see so he can rub over his spark chamber.

- Soundwave is a quick learner so everything he’s seen Rodimus do he can do but better. Now they have clean fuel and water and a medicinal paste Soundwave uses on Rodimus so he isn’t in pain as they wait for help.

- rodimus gets close to Soundwave in a physical sense by the mech hugging him so he stays warm and conscious while getting used to Soundwaves sparkbeat.

- when help finally arrives its the decepticons and Megatron is personally on a small boat coming towards them with Hook their medic and Dreadwing for backup.

- Megatron is surprised to see Rodimus but he is more than happy to see his old friend unharmed.

- soundwave does not put Rodimus down when they get on the boat nor does he let go when Hook begins working on him.

Hook gives the all clear that Rodimus will be fine but out of it for a few days and Megatron smirks at his old friend giving him an elbow that would’ve knocked anyone else on the ground.

“So, when can I expect nieces and nephews? I’d like the ship to be lively again with creations other than my own and those blasted seekers and constructicons with their former police bot.”

The Soundwave Megatron knew came back full force with his intimidating growl just full of annoyance as he held Rodimus closer if that were possible and it made Megatron bark out a hearty laugh that shook the cabin.

Megatron spoke his next words that made Soundwave throw the captain out, anyone else and they would’ve been slaughtered before touching him. But Soundwave was Megatrons equal in many regards and combat was one of them.

Along with being his favorite.

“I give it a few months before he’s sparked and you start a clan big enough to be a brood.”

Megatron laughed as he went through the wall and the ships crew looked at him like he’d gone mad all over again.

Soundwave was ticked when his old friend reminded him of his words while Rodimus lay resting in berth holding their first sparkling.

It hadn’t even been a full year on board and they welcomed their first young.

“Aiming for twins next old friend?”

Just as Soundwave was about to leave his bonded’s side to drop kick Megatron, Rodimus spoke without missing a beat as he smiled lovingly to their sparkling, “You wake my bitty or fight his first day alive and neither of you will ever reproduce again.”

They wisely kept quiet and saved their fight for the next day while Rodimus was sleeping.

[kanisema-blog]

The dust motes danced in the afternoon sunlight filtering through the blinds, a mesmerizing ballet only I seemed to appreciate. I sighed, the sound swallowed by the cavernous silence of my apartment. "The way I stay at home, bro, I am becoming a furniture," I muttered to my orange tabby, Marmalade, the only witness to my self-inflicted isolation.

Being a freelance graphic designer had its perks, working in pajamas being a major one. But lately, the perks were fading, replaced by a suffocating loneliness and a nagging sense of missed opportunities. I yearned for connection, for a spark to ignite the monotony of my days.

Then, like a gust of fresh air on a stale afternoon, came the email. A new client, Mr. Thorne, requesting a logo design for his vintage bookstore. Intriguing. An escape from the same old advertising campaigns. With renewed energy, I dove into the project, sketching, tweaking, and finally presenting a logo that captured the essence of Mr. Thorne's haven for forgotten stories.

He loved it. Our interaction was brief, crisp emails filled with professional courtesy. But Mr. Thorne had an aura of mystery, a quiet intensity that lingered even through his digital words. "A meeting might be beneficial to discuss future projects," his email read. "Coffee on me, next Friday?"

Butterflies exploded in my stomach. Was that... nervousness? Excitement? I quickly typed a confirmation, feeling a giddiness I hadn't experienced in a long time.

The bookstore was a haven of worn leather and the comforting scent of old paper. Mr. Thorne, in person, was even more captivating. Tall and broad-shouldered, he had kind eyes that crinkled at the corners when he smiled. He wasn't what I expected – his voice was surprisingly soft, and his passion for forgotten stories made his eyes light up like a child's on Christmas morning.

We talked for hours, the bookstore closing around us unnoticed. Over coffee, he confided he was planning a book club, and wouldn't it be brilliant to have a custom bookmark as a welcome gift? My heart thumped a frantic rhythm. This wasn't just a business meeting; it was a conversation, a connection that transcended the project.

"Mr. Thorne feels… old-fashioned," I blurted out, surprised by the words escaping my lips. "In a good way, of course."

He chuckled, a rich sound that sent shivers down my spine. "Perhaps," he admitted, a hint of a blush creeping up his neck. "But then, perhaps that's not a bad thing in our digital age."

Our meetings continued, blurring the lines between client and friend. We discussed classic literature, shared childhood favorites, and discovered a surprising mutual love for cheesy rom-coms. One rainy afternoon, as we huddled over a book, my shoulder brushed against his. A jolt of electricity shot through me, and I held my breath, afraid to break the sudden intimacy.

He looked down at me, his eyes searching mine. Then, in a voice husky with emotion, he said, "Ms. Thompson… would it be too old-fashioned to ask if you'd like to have dinner sometime? Not to discuss business, but because… well, you make excellent coffee, and your company is even better."

I grinned, the joy bubbling up from within. "The way I stay home, Mr. Thorne," I said, my voice catching with emotion, "I think I'd rather have dinner than be furniture any day."

Mr. Thorne's smile turned into a full-blown grin, and for the first time since forever, I didn't feel like a piece of furniture gathering dust. I felt like the start of a beautiful story waiting to be written, a story where maybe, just maybe, the girl who was turning into furniture found a love story that brought sunshine back into her life.

[bluemoonfantasiesiii]

Vincent wondered about Kazuha's words for not worrying on missing yoimiya, he chuckled at the general's reaction after the Geo specter got interested in him too as Albedo before and enjoyed the way Kazuha treated the Hydro one before he smoothly landed on the roof by his skill.

"Thank you, general Gorou. It would help to keep these two out of sight to avoid unnecessary attention on hurt them or misunderstand their attention" the young man said with soft smile. When they all got in the vessel and ready to leave, Like before Vincent used his Hydro arms to hold the two on the roof securely as Gorou started to lead the waverider a head to the pearl island.

Lily murmured in her sleep and a few words could be heard faintly ".. kitty.. come back.. lighting... person.." and her father thought it might be something connected to what happened before when she gave Kazuha two flowers 'I really should check on her and see if she gained a new ability' he smiled kindly while hugging her closer to his chest, the Hydro specter softly rubbing against her shoulder as if it's trying to ease her dream and surprisingly it did made her giggle in her sleep "thank you, friend" the younger artist said patting the specter's on it's upper side gently to gain a silly reaction as to show its own support for the girl.

Kazuha looked down at the Hydro harness that took hold of him, confused.

“That’s just Vincent being our group’s mom friend~” Nigredo explained.

“I see,” said the samurai with a chuckle.

Gorou took to the helm and started up the waverider. After making sure everyone was onboard, he took off at a steady pace.

Much like Nigredo had earlier, Kazuha closed his eyes to feel the spray of the ocean and the wind in his hair. “I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of this feeling,” he mused. “The open sea and the endless possibilities for adventure that lie beyond the horizon.”

Nigredo hummed in agreement. “It really does feel like there are no boundaries out here.”

“Blue, indigo, black

Shadows of the night make the

Moon and stars shine bright”

The Erdeprinz blinked at the seemingly random words. “Huh?”

“A haiku,” Kazuha explained. “I dabble in poetry sometimes. The stars are beginning to appear.”

Nigredo looked up. “So they are.”

Kazuha pulled two small objects out of his robes, one violet and one red. With a flick of the wrist, the red device sparked to life with controlled Pyro energy, and the samurai touched the tiny flame to one end of the violet object before dousing it and putting the red device away. He brought the purple thing, which Nigredo recognized as the rolled-up leaf of a naku weed, inhaled deeply, and turned away from his rooftop companion to expel the smoke from his lungs.

“Ah, this must be one of the recreational uses of naku weed I’ve heard about,” Nigredo observed plainly.

“I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all. In fact, I’m curious about the effects.”

Kazuha held the blunt out to the gardener. “Would you like to try?”

“Sure, why not?” Nigredo’s said with a shrug, taking the naku weed and mimicking Kazuha. He turned to the side a coughed violently when the smoke entered his lungs.

The poet laughed. “It takes some getting used to,” he said, patting the blond on the back.

“H-hang on. -cough!- Let me try again. Now that I know what to expect…” Nigredo’s second attempt went much smoother. The effects were almost immediate as he handed the naku weed back to Kazuha.

“Well~?”

“Slight dulling of cognitive faculties, lessening of tension in the muscles, a general feeling of ease. I can see why certain people would find this addicting.”

Kazuha chuckled. “Thankfully I haven’t sunk to that point.” He leaned back on his free hand and took another hit as the coral peaks of Watatsumi Island poked out over the horizon.

[consciouschunkofmoss]

the more i play pathologic I the more i start to notice how many weird choices were made on the remake lmao

[koiir]

DONT TRY TO BE A GENIUS, WHY SO SERIOUS?

Pairings - albedo x fem!reader

Genre - pure fluff

This was a new feeling for the alchemist, something he couldn’t exactly explain. But he quickly realized what this feeling was, it was love. Albedo had spent time researching all about human emotions, yet he never thought that he himself would be able to feel love for another person. The only person he felt a strong bond between was with the little spark knight Klee. Surprisingly enough, Klee was the one to question albedo about his feelings.

“Mr. Albedo! Um, I have a question for you.” The little girl spoke. “And what might that be Klee?” This wasn’t something new. Klee would often look for albedo whenever he wasn’t busy and ask him about certain topics. I mean, her brother was one the smartest people she knew! “Are you and [name] dating?” Now this, caught his attention. “What? Where did you get that idea from klee…” The alchemist couldn’t help but have a slight blush forming due to the assumption his sister made. “Oh well! Klee was looking around and that’s when I saw your sketchbook! It was opened so a took a peak and… boom! Drawings of [name]!” Klee kept babbling on and on about how she even went to ask Jean and Lisa for their thought’s. “That’s when miss Lisa told me how you must feel something for her! Miss lisa then said how she caught you staring at [name] many times! So, you two must be dating!” Albedo was a blushing mess by now. First, his sister had seen his drawings of [name]. Second, both the acting grand master and Lisa knew about this. Archons! He was so embarrassed! Things couldn’t possibly get worse, right?

“My my, what do we have here? The spark knight herself and the Chief alchemist as well?” Out of everyone, it just had to be him. “Kaeya, what brings you here?” Albedo spoke, he was trying to fix his composure as best as he could. He still had blush coating his checks and his voice cracked a little while speaking. He just hoped the Calvary caption wouldn’t notice. But Kaeya knew how to read people, and he obviously noticed something was wrong. “You seem tense, Albedo. What might the reason be?”

“It’s nothing, really. But you haven’t-“

“Big brother and [name] are dating!” Klee announced. The little girl was jumping up and down almost as if this was something she had been waiting for. And she has. “Klee! You can’t go around saying false claims.” With Kaeya here, albedo knew that his day was only going to get worse. He could already imagine the teasing he was about to receive. “Am I surprised? I’ve seen the way you look at her, albedo.” Kaeya said with a smirk. “Did you just forget what I said? Me and [name] aren’t together. We’re both good friends.” Why wouldn’t anyone listen to him? Him and [name] are only friends, nothing more! “Wait, so you and [name] aren’t dating Mr. albedo?” Klee held her hand on her chin, trying to comprehend what she was just told. Did this mean Lisa lied to her? No! Lisa would never lie! Albedo caught on, he didn’t want his sister thinking that Lisa was a liar. Even though she does lie at times. “Klee, Lisa didn’t lie to you. She just… gave you her thoughts. She must have thought with my sketches of [name], that me and her were more than friends. I do sketches and drawings of multiple people, and [name] is one of those people.” Liar. [name] had only asked albedo for one painting, and it wasn’t even of herself! The blonde had willingly made these sketches of [name] to capture her beauty. Everything about her was captivating. From the way she talked, fought, to how she handled his little sister. He couldn’t help but fall for the girl.

“Say klee, how about you go with miss amber,” Kaeya pointed towards her. “I Wanna have a word with your brother and I bet you just wanna have fun with amber, correct?” Klee nodded, she quickly ran towards Ambers side. Leaving the Calvary caption and Chief alchemist alone. “Being the genius you are, you out of everyone should’ve caught these signals [name] has given you, or were you just trying to act all cold and serious around them?” Albedo thought for moment. He then quickly realized what these signals were. The way your pupils dilated when you glanced at Albedo, the smile you wore at all times whenever you were with him, how you would worry and care for him whenever he spent to much time on his work and not on himself. He quickly realized you loved him just as much as he did you. Albedo was trying so hard to realize what these signs meant, love isn’t easy. Its a learning process. “Now have you realized?” Albedo sighed, he then nodded at Kaeyas question. “So, what are you waiting for? You better make a move before someone else does.”

[ptergwen]

sensation

w/c: 4.6k

warnings: some swearing, suggestive tings, and a pretty bad ending

summary: it’s the last night of your world tour, and tom has the perfect way to celebrate

a/n: i know y’all have been waiting for this one! everyone really loved when worlds collide but i ran out of ideas for it lol sorry... anyways my solution was to turn it into a oneshot :D based off the au!! i’m honestly nervous about posting this cuz a lot of you asked for it and i don’t wanna disappoint but i tried my absolute hardest to make it special <3 please enjoy

-

“thank you so much! we love you!” you shout to the audience, laughing breathlessly when they shout back. one of your dancers pulls you into a side hug, you throwing your arm around his neck. “we’re so fucking lucky you chose us, that you came all the way here. i’ve seen some of you back at night one. wow.” your voice gets wobbly, thinking about how loyal your fans are.

the tour started in new york, and they’ve followed you here to london.

tonight is an emotional night for everyone. you’re about to wrap your last show before you continue again in the summer. touring the u.k. has been a dream, and you’re just as thrilled to travel the rest of the world after your break. it’s bittersweet because you’re going to miss the hell out of your crew and the millions of lovely faces you’ve sang to each week. but, you do get to spend your time off with a special someone.

he’s watching you from the sound booth, sending fond smiles and loud cheers your way. thanks to you, tom has been at every show you’ve played in england. he brought harry along this time because he’s also a fan and wanted to see you. well, tom is more than a fan at this point. you’d say he’s more of a boyfriend. you haven’t discussed labels just yet.

your dates have mainly been over facetime, since you live on opposite sides of the world with insane schedules. a heartthrob actor and international popstar is quite the combination. you’ve only seen each other in person a couple of times, the first being pretty recently.

zendaya brought tom along to hang out with you in los angeles. he happened to be there recording some lines for a movie. she saw your concert earlier that night and invited him to crash the dinner plans you’d made, resulting in the best surprise and most fun you’ve ever had. the other time you enjoyed each other’s company was one weekend in paris. that was... something.

besides those two miracles, everything between you and tom happens through a screen. you’ll down bottles of champagne or keep warm under blankets while talking about your days. it’s nice, having someone on the other end who listens and actually hears you. tom gets it. you both do.

finishing your tour in london is convenient because not only will you have tom to comfort you, but you get to stick around for a while. he’s invited you to stay at his place. you can’t wait to meet the other holland’s, his friends, and obviously tessa.

“fuck, i’m gonna cry. i’m already crying,” you announce to the crowd, though they can tell from the tears streaming down your face. more dancers huddle around you and turn your single hug into a group one. you’re laughing and sobbing and holding on tight to everyone. fans bawl their own eyes out, the fact that this is it starting to settle in. the onstage crew even gets choked up, seeing you like this.

tom pouts from where he’s watching. he wishes he could run up there and squeeze you tight, but he’ll have to save that for when you’re done.

“i love you all so much, literally every single one of you in this room,” you tell everyone for the nth time tonight, swiping a perfectly manicured finger under your eyes. “my lighting crew, sound crew, my band, my fearless fucking dancers-“ a hiccup cuts you off. people burst into fits of giggles, which is a much needed tension breaker. you adjust your headset so the mic doesn’t pick up any other bodily noises.

grinning, you rest your arm on a shorter dancer’s shoulder, then go on. “sorry, sorry. i just wanna say, like, three more thank you’s before i get out of here.” there’s a chorus of no’s and encouraging whistles at the mention of you leaving. you blink back more tears to delay the breakdown you’re going to have. “thank you to my friends who always show up for me.”

with a knowing smile, you glance over at tom. “and, thank you to my more than a friend.” he smiles back, both hands held over his heart. harry elbows him in congratulations. more screaming erupts from the crowd as they realize where you’re looking and who you’re looking at. this will be sure to spark some headlines. whatever, you’re used to trending on every possible social media platform by now.

“this is the big one,” you preface, taking in a breath while everyone quiets down again. “thank you to you guys. for trusting me, for caring about what i have to say in any way. i feel your love. i really do, and i hope you feel mine.” your fans yell that they love you back, dancers gently swaying you side to side, emotions on high. there’s one last song, and it’s over.

“this has been the sensation tour, and i’ve been your host. was i good?” you try to lighten the mood, earning a bunch of what sound like positive shrieks. the earpiece you have in makes it hard to tell. “y’all were even better.” exchanging looks with your dancers, you pull out of the hug so you can get to your mark for the finale. they follow your lead. music comes through the speakers.

“i’ll see you again soon, okay? i promise. here’s sensation,” you introduce the song, immediately bursting into more tears. it’s torture to say goodbye. thankfully, you have the most incredible fans on earth, so they sing along with you at the top of their lungs. that includes tom and harry, your ultimate stans.

when the show is over, you run right off stage and over to tom. he’s waiting on the side with actual heart eyes for you. you practically leap into his arms, a hand cradling the back of his head, both his arms draped low and tight around your body.

“you were so amazing up there! absolutely smashed it, darling,” tom breathes out. his face is smushed between your neck and mostly bare chest. “thanks, tom. seriously, thanks for being here tonight and every other.” you smile a tired smile and wind your other arm around his neck. he presses some light you’re welcome kisses to your skin. “mm, thanks for having me. how’s it feel to be done?”

you sigh, fingers running through his curls. “like the biggest relief, and also really sad.” you’re such a mess that you could cry again on the spot. tom senses it and lifts his head up to see if you’re alright. “super depressing,” you surprisingly reiterate without the waterworks. “i know the feeling. you’ll be back soon, though. you said it,” he murmurs, a grin on his lips as they brush against the corner of yours.

you’re about to kiss him properly, then one of your dancers comes up to you. you’d forgotten that there are still stage managers and security everywhere, too. you get completely lost in tom whenever you’re together.

“you killed, babe,” coco greets you, linking your arm in hers. tom takes the hint and lets go of you. he watches on with a smirk. “nah, you murdered,” you send the compliment back and bite your lower lip. “i dunno, i feel like someone murdered me!” there’s coco with her dramatics. she’s genuinely hilarious, your shared sense of humor playing a huge part in your friendship.

she brings your free hand to her heart. you gasp at how fast it’s going. “that shit is really beating, coco. are you, like, okay?” “probably not. it was the freestyle that got me.” coco went a lot harder than usual tonight, since it was her last big dance break for a while. she puffs air from her cheeks and nods to tom. “this your man?”

“yeah, you could say that. i’m tom,” he answers, holding out a hand for her. “coco.” she pulls it like you would in a handshake. you beam at them, one of your best friends and unofficial boyfriend finally meeting. “sounds promising. i approve,” coco mutters to you. bumping your hip into hers playfully, you take one of tom’s hands in both of yours.

“aw, we have your blessing or something? your permission?” you coo and get a push at your shoulder from coco in return. tom chuckles, his thumb running over the back of your hand. “no! i was gonna say you should bring him out back,” coco clarifies, like it was obvious. you’re not sure what she’s on about. “uh, what’s out back?” you question. “an axe?” tom teases.

coco gestures to the nearest exit. “we’re having a little goodbye party in the parking lot. fire pit, snacks. remember?” nope, you’d completely forgotten. the idea first sounded like the perfect way to end your night, so you agreed to go. that was before you were dripping sweat and mentally exhausted. now, all you want to do is unwind with tom and tom only.

the superstar life is one you’re happy to lead, just not at this exact moment.

“i do now.” you muster up your most apologetic smile for coco, tugging on tom’s hand. “i’m sorry, co. i think we’re gonna pass.” her jaw drops. you’re never one to skip these things. “aw, for real? it’s our last night!” tom threads his fingers through yours while you talk. “bro, we’ve been together for almost a whole year,” you laugh out, nuzzling your cheek into tom’s chest. “get sick of me.”

“never,” coco deadpans. she catches you gazing up at tom, relaxing as his arms hug your middle. she’s known you long enough to tell what’s a fling and what’s real love for you. this is something special, and she can’t get in the way of it. she’ll let you navigate this yourself. “ok, just for tonight. you’ll text me?” coco gives you a real smile, raising an eyebrow at tom. he gathers that’s a good thing. he’s in.

“mhm. maybe we can hang out tomorrow,” you agree and let your eyes flutter shut. all that’s keeping you up are tom’s strong arms. “tell everyone i love them.” “i think they know.” coco shakes her head lightheartedly. tom laughs at her. “be good,” she tells him and means it, rubbing your back on her way to the lot. that leaves you and tom alone at last.

custodians are cleaning up the arena, fans are piling out, and you’re clinging to tom while his steady heartbeat grounds you. this is the only after party you need.

“harry’s got the car when you’re ready,” tom mumbles, tucking a piece of damp hair behind your ear. you loop your arms around his torso with a hum. “i was kinda wondering where he went.” “yeah?” he gives you a small smile. “gotta ask what he thought... of the show.” yawns are creeping past your lips, tonight’s events catching up to you.

“i like feedback from the fans, or stans,” you elaborate in your sleepy state. tom uses his fingertips to tap your temple. “what about me? i’m your biggest.” “i’ll, um, follow up with you later.” your words are slurring. “right now, home.” warmth spreads throughout tom’s entire body, his house becoming yours for a bit. “your chariot awaits,” he affirms before helping you to your dressing room.

after collecting your things, you follow tom out to the car. harry is in the driver’s seat, and you two slip into the back. he exchanges a look with his brother through the mirror while you settle on his shoulder. you’re hugging his bicep, his lips pressing to the side of your head.

“thank you for driving,” you speak softly to harry. he starts to pull out of the spot with a nod. “no problem. get to say i was y/n y/l/n’s chauffeur.” tom clicks his tongue even though harry is joking. you snicker at his remark, joking back. “you want the job? better be a five star ride, then.” your banter brings yet another smile to tom’s face. his family is everything to him, so seeing you get along so well means the most.

“right, right. did you have a good time?” harry wonders, twisting to see behind him while he turns around. he also peeks at you snuggled up to tom before facing forward. “great, actually. did you?” you check, the grin clear in your voice. harry goes into full stan mode. “no shit! you were brilliant, y/n. god, every note was just like how you did it the studio.” he’s raving, which is much appreciated by you.

“good answer.” tom shoots his brother a wink. “‘s that what you wanted to hear?” he asks in reference to your conversation earlier. your response is a kiss to his shoulder. “yay. i’m happy you liked it, harry.” he buzzes with excitement, having his favorite artist care what he thinks.

not much is said for the rest of the drive. tom and harry make some hushed conversation about golfing this weekend while you struggle to stay awake. they’re obsessed with that damn sport. it’s honestly nice to see, that tom has something he likes to do when he isn’t shooting hollywood’s biggest movies. your free time will finally give you the chance to discover other hobbies.

you stumble out of the car upon arriving to the boys’ place, a backpack on your shoulders and tom’s hand held tight in yours. you’ve got only a few essentials with you for tonight. the rest is on the tour bus, so you’ll gather it after your hangout with coco. besides, everything you need at the moment is right here.

“home sweet home,” tom announces as harry unlocks the front door. his words bring a tired smile to your face. “finally,” you exhale, keeping your fingers laced with tom’s and following the two of them inside. “i could show you around a bit, give you the grand tour. or-“ tom stops talking, feeling your weight on him. harry huffs at how oblivious his brother is.

“mate, she’s falling over. save it,” he suggests and kicks the door shut lazily. you’re done in. you’ve been having to lean on tom since the show ended. “another time, then,” tom mumbles, securing his arm around your waist. “there is one thing i wanna see.” your voice is low, body curled into tom’s side. he raises an eyebrow. “and that is?” “your room.”

tom takes that in a suggestive way, like he does most things. “we’re getting right to it, are we?” he questions, harry gagging and you nudging his arm with your head. “not like that, dummy. ‘cuz i’m sleepy.” there’s a beat of silence. “ask me again in-“ “wow, look at the time!” harry interrupts so he doesn’t have to hear the details. he’s sure he’ll witness enough after it happens. “off to bed i go! goodnight.”

he rushes to get to his room, yelling out, “great show, y/n!” on the way. “thank you! night!” you call back, tom letting out a sigh. “div of the century,” he says under his breath. “must run in the family,” you playfully retort. that gets you a firm poke at your side. “where’s everyone else?” you glance up at him. there should be two other idiots and a lovely, furry lady running around.

“tuwaine’s gone to the pub, harrison’s filming late, and tess is at mum and dad’s,” tom fills you in, grabbing your arm and draping it around his middle. doing him one better, you hug him with both. you squint in confusion about the last part. “they watch her when i’m out,” tom answers your unspoken question. “ah,” you nod, then deflate ever so slightly. “i wanted to meet her, though. the other boys, too.”

tom smooths the pad of his thumb over your cheek. “you will, darling. it’s only for tonight.” he kisses the same spot reassuringly. “we’ve got loads of time.” “yeah, we do,” you agree, instantly cheering up and letting your head fall onto his chest. “now, where’s your room?” “just upstairs. you need some help getting in?” he’s only playing around, but you accept, tightening your arms around his neck.

“show me the way,” you beam at him. “happy to.” tom wiggles his eyebrows, you jumping up. your legs wrap around his waist, his arms holding you against him. with a satisfied hum, you squish your face into his insanely soft shirt. “what a diva,” tom sarcastically complains while taking you to the staircase. “doesn’t even say please. no manners from this one.”

“you try dancing in six inch heels for two hours,” you shoot back, patting the side of his neck. he moves one hand down to your thigh for a better grip. you’re nearing the top of the stairs. “think i’ll leave that to you,” he decides and squeezes your thigh. “look at me, carrying the whole music industry.” your face easily gets hot and your words turn to murmurs. “shut up. you should listen to other songs.”

you’re on the second floor now, tom going for the first door. he frowns at his rejected compliment. “no, i like yours. they’re my favorite.” “really?” your muffled laugh sounds from his chest. “what was the first thing i ever said to you?” he asks, a toothy grin on him even though you can’t see it. you recall the faithful night he slid into your dms while he carries you into his room.

he’d tripped over his words somehow, the fangirling fool. before that, he tweeted to the whole world that he wanted to see you in concert. it was a huge thing, and people were freaking out about it, even more so when your online interactions became routine. that’s nothing compared to where you are now.

you’re currently living with him and basically dating. possibly, in love. the base of it all really is your music.

“that you love me.” you pause for the ellipses. the corners of your lips turn up. “but, you really meant to say my work.” “both apply.” tom passes that off like it’s a side comment, carefully laying you down on his bed. you look up at him with a curious glint in your eyes. “what does that mean?” his cheeks flush, and he bites back the smile that’s growing. this was supposed to go... differently.

you sit up, breathing out a laugh at tom’s boyish behavior. he’s precious, truly. “you do love me?” those three words will change everything if he says yes. he takes both your hands in his and holds them between you two. you meet his doe eyes. “yeah, y/n/n. i do.” so, you were right. “i love you... and, that wasn’t how i planned on saying it.” signaling for him to elaborate, you tilt your head to the side.

tom sits down next to and faces you before continuing. “it was supposed to be romantic, right?” he rolls his eyes up to the ceiling, annoyed he ruined this. “candlelit dinner, flowers, that sort of thing. seems more fitting for the occasion.” you shift closer to him until your knees are touching. your face is lit up, voice dropped to almost a whisper.

“since when do we do things the way we’re supposed to?” you point out and set your hands on his shoulders. “we’ve gone straight from online dating to me moving in. that’s usually not how it works.” tom chuckles lowly. his own hands find their place on your hips. you’re so good with words. then again, you are a singer. “guess you could say we’re, um, spontaneous,” he agrees, fingers drawing circles on you.

you and tom have explored some of each other’s most intimate places, yet you’ve never shared a moment quite like this. it’s like meeting him for the first time again. he’s too tongue tied to spit out what he wants. you somehow know, anyway. what you cherish most about your relationship is that you two completely and totally understand one another, on every level.

“tom?” you speak quietly, butterflies filling up your body. “hm?” he hums back. this is one of those moments where it all just clicks. “i love you. i really, really love you.” you giggle out of the pure happiness that consumes you, tom joining in your laughter. “i love you, too.” he sounds like he’s said it a million times and he’ll say it a million more. he leans over so his forehead rests on yours. “really, really love you.”

your warm breath hits his face, eyes darting from his own to his lips. “i want you to be more than...” you trail off, unsure of how to phrase it. “more than... more than a friend?” tom pokes fun at what you said during the show. there’s less and less space between you with every second. “you mean, like, a boyfriend?”

“exactly. be my boyfriend,” you all but demand. you’re half asleep and desperate to be able to call him yours already. “bossy, bossy, bossy,” tom chastises, swiping his thumb across your bottom lip. how he goes from being shy and giddy to the cockiest person alive in minutes, you’ll never know. “please?” you throw in to sway him. your hand locks with his, slowly moving it off your face.

you run your tongue over your teeth. “at least kiss me.” “you don’t have to ask,” tom breathes, lips now ghosting over yours. “i was going to.” true to his words, he closes the microscopic gap between you, you pushing forward against him as you kiss back. your first kiss in love. his lips taste like the chapstick he always uses, and he moves them softly.

he places a hand on your knee, you opening your mouth so he can have access to it. instead, a yawn exits. tom pulls back with a breathy laugh. “you must be exhausted, yeah? let’s get you to bed.” he pecks your lips once more. “my girl needs her beauty rest.” that confirms your relationship. you scrunch your nose and grin wide. “and, she’s gonna get some with her boy.”

you’re reminded of how sweaty you are when you catch a whiff. “oof, wait. do you think i can take a shower first?” you grimace, fanning at the air for emphasis. tom uses the tip of his nose to nudge yours. “absolutely. need help in there, too?” he’s not asking in that way, only so nothing happens. the hospital wouldn’t be the most pleasant place to spend your break. plus, he doesn’t want to be without you too long.

“you know what? yeah.”

that’s how you end up intertwined under the hot water, letting it cascade down your back as tom hugs you close to him. you sigh in content and tangle your fingers in his fluffed over curls. you’ve learned that he’s super into having his hair played with. it’s endearing, how he instinctively leans into your touch, eyes closing as you tug on the roots.

he drops his head down to kiss your shoulder, dragging his lips to your collarbone in a way that tickles. they land on one of your breasts next. there isn’t anything sexual about it, only loving. just in case he gets too excited because it’s not uncommon he does, you gently put a finger to his lips. tom takes the hint and lets up. you continue combing through his wet hair while you step out of the water.

“do you ever sing in the shower?” he questions, drawing your naked body in closer to his. “sometimes, yeah. i honestly feel like i sound better there,” you admit and slide your hand down to the nape of his neck. tom’s tongue darts out to lick his lips. “not true. you sound beautiful everywhere, and don’t fight me on this one.” he smirks in satisfaction, you groaning at your loss.

“i really enjoy hearing your voice when it blares through an arena, though,” tom keeps buttering you up. you shake your head and settle both arms around his neck. “man, i just love you so much.” “i love you, sweetheart,” he murmurs back, you switching places so he can give his hair a final rinse. you watch him and his glowing body, admiring the sight.

“what a sensation you are,” you say mostly to yourself, which doesn’t stop him from hearing. “i see what you did there.” he eyes you while you do the same to him. your arms still around his neck pull him back to you. “tommy? do you sing in the shower?” you meant to ask him before, then he started throwing all those compliments at you.

tom scoffs, walking you back so you’re against the wall. “i don’t sing anywhere.” “what?” you gasp and put a hand on his chest. “you’re lying, you have to be. wasn’t billy elliot a musical?” he narrows his eyes at you as he tries to gage where you’re going with this. “that i did a decade ago, and way before puberty. couldn’t sing a word without cracking after that.”

your mouth is left hanging open in shock and disappointment. you bet he has a nice voice, and he’s downplaying it. “y/n,” tom begins, cupping your jaw with his palm. “since we’re living together now, there’s a lot you’re going the learn about me. good things, weird things.” he shrugs casually. “this is one of the weird things.”

“only because you make it weird! come on, let me hear you,” you request and wrap a leg around his waist. you’re giving him a hopeful smile. “god, no. you’ll hate it,” he almost laughs, a hand on your thigh. “i’m literally a singer. how could i hate something i love?” you refute, batting your lashes at him. “especially when someone i love is doing it.” “i love you, too. but, i’m not.” he’s quick to shut you down.

“drop a bar!” you try to coax him, which he already has a comeback for. “you first.” “i can’t. my throat is all scratchy from earlier,” you lie. tom presses his lips into a line, feigning pity. “aw, you know what’ll make you feel better? tea. i’ll go get you some.” he turns to shut the water off, so you grab his shoulders. “no, the steam is working. you can stay.”

“love,” tom addresses you in a warning tone that you can’t take seriously. he can’t either, a giggle escaping him. “my voice is shit. ask anyone, and they’ll tell you.” “i won’t believe them,” you hum, pushing back curls sticking to his forehead. “sounds like you just have stage fright. we can work on that, though.” “how?” he tightens his arm around your middle.

“i’ll bring you on for my next show. we’ll do a little duet.” you’re joking, though that would definitely be interesting to see unfold. “uh, never. what happened to you being tired?” tom cleverly deflects and digs his fingers into your side. you look down in defeat. “i forgot about that.” “yeah, yeah. no, seriously. we should really get to sleep, y/n/n.” he’s back to his sweet, attentive self. “‘s been a long night.”

giving in with a nod, you capture his lips in yet another kiss. tom never gets tired of them, and neither do you. you break it after a few seconds, lips lingering on his as they detach. “carry me?” you ask again, not caring how whiny you sound. tom presses a quick kiss to your forehead. “oh, you’re adorable. of course.”

well, you’ve found something to keep you occupied until the next leg of tour. you’re going to discover the many layers your intriguingly unusual boyfriend has.

[happyandticklish]

Disarming Your Demons

Notes: Okay, so I’m only halfway through Jujutsu Kaisen, but I had an idea and I had to write it down. I’m not sure if I’m gonna write anything else for it until I actually finish the show, but I said that before and now this exists, so who knows really. 

Summary: Itadori discovers a new method to deal with misbehaving curses. 

Sharing a body with a thousand-year-old curse could have its downfalls, something Itadori was quickly becoming familiar with. Though he could control it most of the time, it was difficult, and took a strain on his mind and body. He put on a brave face afterwards, insisting that it was no big deal, but the truth was anything but. Sukuna’s ability to switch out with him was growing stronger, and the exhaustion was setting in faster now with each time Itadori wrestled back control over his body. In the heat of battle was one thing, edged on by desperation and the will to keep his friends alive. But it was the other times, when Itadori was tired and vulnerable and fully unprepared to battle his literal inner demons, that he regretted the lifestyle most.

Say, for instance, in his dorm room, half-asleep and dreary from a battle earlier that day.

“Hello again.”

Switching out with Sukuna was strange. He didn’t feel it in a physical sense, no pain or sensation inflicted upon him. One moment he was in his body, and the next he was trapped, a helpless bystander to the other’s will.

“You know, it’s awfully bold of those teachers of yours to leave you all alone like this at night.” Sukuna stood, stretching his arms above his head in satisfaction. “Do they really put so much stock in you to assume you’d be able to fight me, like this?”

“Sukuna.” Itadori’s voice was inaudible to anyone who might be passing by, an aimless thought floating around in his consciousness, but he knew the other could hear him nonetheless. “Give me back my body!”

“Please,” Sukuna dismissed, waving one hand as he strolled around the dorm, examining objects with a vague curiosity. “After you used me earlier? I’m growing rather tired of this dynamic, you know. Only ever summoning me when you need your friend healed, or a new big baddie rears its odious head. Then, afterwards, you hide me away without so much as a thank you.”

“I do appreciate your help,” Itadori started carefully, trying to keep his tone neutral. It was difficult though, when the other could easily read his true thoughts. “But you can’t expect me to simply hand my body over like some kind of puppet. I know what your true intentions are, and I won’t let you harm my friends or anyone else.”

“Oh, of course not, not heroic, selfless Itadori.” He placed a hand on the doorknob, twisting it and pushing the door open with one hand. “I wonder what would happen if I went to pay them a little visit now?”

“No!”

“Oh? Don’t like that, do you. Then why don’t you do something about it? Force me back, take over your body once more.” Sukuna chuckled dryly, pausing in the doorway. “If you can, that is. Don’t think I haven’t noticed the toll this is taking on you. Do you really think you have the strength to best me now, when you’re tired and weak from battle?”

Itadori tried, he really did. He knew he had to do this, but Sukuna was right. In his current state, he could hardly focus enough to remain present enough to speak to the other, let alone reclaim his physical form. With his last remaining willpower, he managed to gather enough strength to take control of one arm before he found himself blocked by the other. 

Sukuna’s eyes widened, and then he laughed, a throaty, derisive thing that made Itadori clench the fist he had. “One arm? Is that it? You truly are in for it now. I must say, I am impressed though. I didn’t think you had even that in you. Still, it’s no matter. I could end your world as you know it with both my hands tied behind my back. This pathetic defense is but a pebble in my path. I must thank you for the amusing display though—I needed a good laugh.”

Itadori watched helplessly as his body moved forward against his will, his mind racing as he tried to think of anything he could do in his position.

I needed a good laugh.

That was it!

Itadori would have smiled if he could use his mouth. An idea was formulating in his mind, crazy and nonsensical, but possibly just the thing he needed. It was a method that Gojo had employed once, to train him to focus on maintaining curse energy and resist distractions. He had no idea if the same thing would work on Sukuna, but seeing as he was in his body and therefore should be just as susceptible as Itadori had been, it just might work.

Sukuna stopped short as a jolt of sensation shot through him, and he snapped his head down to see his own hand squeezing his hip. “What the hell?”

“Ha! I didn’t think it would actually work!” Itadori’s voice rang out triumphant through the other’s mind as he squeezed again and again, quick and sudden so that Sukuna had no time to adjust to them. “Who knew that my own ticklishness would come in handy one day?”

“Tickli—what?” Sukuna started in confusion, but quickly slapped his other hand to his mouth to hold back… was that laughter?

He stumbled back against the wall, torn between shoving the other’s hands away and holding back the embarrassing noises leaking between his fingers. It was in times like these that he missed his four arms. It was hard enough to work with only two arms—one was impossible.

“W-What are you d-dohoing?” Sukuna grunted, trying to sound intimidating despite the silly grin quickly taking hold of his features.

“Tickling you, duh.” It was weird tickling his own body, and weirder still to have the sensation disconnected from him. He could feel the AC in the hallway on his arm, and the warmth of his hip under his hand, but that was all. It was disconcerting, but Itadori was grateful for it in this moment. He wasn’t sure he would’ve been able to continue if he could feel everything the other was feeling. He could only imagine how Sukuna was managing to stop himself from collapsing into an Itadori-sized puddle of laughter on the ground. “Haven’t you ever heard of tickling before?”

“I-Is that some k-kind of hihidden Jujutsu?” Sukuna snapped angrily, annoyed at the chuckle that had slipped into his words halfway through.

Laughter rang through his head, unhelpfully as Sukuna tried to hold back his own. “Dude, what? Of course not! Tickling is… well, it’s a human thing you know? When you lightly touch the human body, like this—” he scribbled his fingers up his sides suddenly—“They laugh! I’m not sure why though… science is still a bit iffy on that.”

Sukuna had stopped listening at this point. He had burst into panicked giggles the second Itadori touched his side, unprepared for the other’s change in strategy. Sukuna’s hand come down, wrapping around his wrist and pulling it up, away from his sides.

He drew in an exhausted breath, grinning in relief as he held the other firmly away from him. “There. Your… tickling, or whatever it is, is ineffectual now. Seems like you didn’t think this plan through, did you now?”

He was right. It was a temporary solution, but the truth was that Itadori was going to get nowhere with just one hand. Which was why…

Sukuna’s eyes widened as he felt a sudden pull at his person once more. His body was rebelling, and he fought back, trying to push back at Itadori’s attempt to switch back. He was getting stronger now, and Itadori was still weak, so it should be nothing to keep control from the brat. What he hadn’t expected was for Itadori to focus all his energy on reclaiming a single part of his body, leaving Sukuna unprepared for the concentrated force. He felt his fingers slipping on his wrist, his left arm losing connection just like the first one had.

“No!” Sukuna growled, but it was too late. Both arms were lost to him now, and he knew if Itadori could, he would be smirking.

“Yes,” Itadori countered. Surprisingly enough, he kept his one arm raised. He lowered the other one, poising his fingers under his arms and wiggling them in the air threateningly. “I remember this always being one of my worst spots. Unfortunately for you, I’m afraid.”

Sukuna narrowed his eyes in confusion, but before he could say anything he was stopped by the sensation of nails gently spidering under his arm. It was a slow, unhurried process, that never missed its mark. Instinct shot through him like a bullet and Sukuna attempted to bring his arm down protectively. He was stopped by the other’s remaining control of the limb, which kept it raised exposed and vulnerable over his head. It didn’t help that Itadori hadn’t worn a shirt to bed the previous night, so Itadori had full access to his bare torso.

Sukuna spluttered over a laugh, a hysterical cackling that only grew in desperation as time went on. Sparks flurried through him, his stomach erupting with what felt like millions of butterflies all taking off at the same time. It was impossible to explain how unbearable the feeling was, and Sukuna wondered how humans lived with such a weakness on their body all this time.

“A-Ahaha, stahahahap, eh, gah, stahahahap i-ihihit!” Sukuna’s head was thrown back, his eyes squeezed shut as a wild grin danced along his features. “Y-Yohohou irritahahating b-brahat!”

“Intense, right?” Itadori asked, not even trying to hide the amusement in his voice. “If only you had chosen a less ticklish vessel. You’re in for it now, though. I got to be honest, it’s kind of funny seeing a bigshot curse like you writhing around like a worm on a hook.”

“Shuhuhut uhuhuhup!” Sukuna demanded, though it came out far more giggly than he would have liked. He couldn’t concentrate like this, couldn’t even begin to start to try to reclaim his arms. He needed him to move his hand, maybe back to his hips, or somewhere else, anywhere else. He wasn’t sure if the rest of this body was less ticklish, only that he needed Itadori to move away from that spot.

“Not a chance,” Itadori scoffed. “This is way too much fun! Of course, you could always stop me. Just switch back and the tickling won’t affect you anymore; it’s that easy.”

“L-Lihihike hehehell Ihihihihi wihihihill!” He was slipping now, his body sliding down the wall in an attempt to get away. Unfortunately, you can’t run away from yourself, and those wiggling fingers followed him all the way down. “Cuhuhut ihihit ohohout wihihihith thahahat sphohohot!”

“Why?” Itadori asked innocently, loving this a bit too much for his own good. But could he really help it when he was given such a perfect oppurtunity for revenge? “Does it tickle too much for the big bad curse?”

Sukuna was going to kill him. Then, once he was sure the pest was well and truly dead, he was going to bring him back to life so he could kill him all over again. Right now, however, his focus was only on those devastating nails, light, barely-there touches that had his mind reeling. When his fingers traveled a bit too high, skittering at the top of his armpits, he finally gave in. “Yehehehes, ohohokay, ihihit tihihihickles, ohohor whahahatever y-yohou cahahalled ihihit! Sohohomewhehere ehehelse!”

“Are you sure you want me to go somewhere else?” Itadori questioned teasingly, circling the area with just one finger. Sukuna ducked his chin into his chest, unable to hold back the flood of giggles that caused. “Really sure?”

“Y-Yohohou, ahaha, yohou lihihittle—”

“Okay, okay.” Itadori moved his hand away, pulling his other arm down. Sukuna exhaled in relief, an exhausted grin still dancing on his features. Unfortunately, Itadori noticed. “Hey, don’t relax just yet. I’m not done with you. After all, you still haven’t given me back my body, have you?”

“What the hell—noHOHO!” Sukuna burst into laughter anew as his arms wrapped around himself, trapping him in a tickly hug as fingers wiggled up and down his sides. “S-SHIHIHIT!”

“Regretting your words yet?”

Sukuna thrashed wildly, howling as he doubled over in a useless attempt to protect himself. The snarky remarks were gone now, so completely was he lost to his own laughter. His skin twitched and goosebumps scattered up his sides, a helpless reaction to the playful tickling.

Because it was playful. Despite everything, he could tell that Itadori was having fun with this. And maybe, just maybe, the other was too. His insides felt warm and fuzzy in a way they hadn’t in a while, his laughter peaking between desperation and silly giggles. It was strangely addicting to give in like this, allowing the tickling to consume his thoughts and blur out any remaining negativity.

It was… nice.

“I-IIHIHITADORI!” His head was thrown back, a hearty flush spreading across his cheeks and warming his skin. “I-IHIHI CAHAHAN’T!”

“You know how to stop this,” Itadori reminded him. “Just switch back and the tickling stops.”

Sukuna fell back on the floor, unable to hold himself up against the relentless tickling. He let out a frankly embarrassing squeak, the sensations breaking through the last of his revolve. And finally, at last, he caved in.

With a start, Itadori felt the other ducking back into himself, releasing his body in the process. He stopped wiggling his fingers, sitting up slowly as he regained control of himself once more. He was sweaty and exhausted, like he’d just ran a marathon, and he could feel that familiar floating sensation in the pit of his stomach that came with being tickled.

“Damn brat,” Sukuna complained from inside him, and Itadori smiled fondly. He would have to remember this method for next time.

“What the hell?”

Itadori startled as a voice shot through his thoughts, and he glanced up to see Megumi standing in the hallway. He was still in pajamas, and his hair was sticking out in several directions. The look on his face implied he’d just woken up. The two made eye contact, Megumi taking in Itadori’s flushed features and his sprawled position on the floor.

Megumi furrowed his brows in confusion. “Itadori? I heard a noise and I thought… are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, totally,” Itadori dismissed, sitting up slowly. “I was… sleep-walking. Yeah, that’s it. Just a weird dream, that’s all. Nothing to worry about.”

Megumi continued to stare at him for a moment, clearly debating whether or not to believe the other. Finally, he sighed, rubbing his forehead tiredly. “Alright. If you say so. Just keep it down next time, will you? Some of us are actually trying to sleep.”

Itadori threw the other a hearty thumbs-up, grinning innocently. “Will do!”

Megumi frowned, but eventually disappeared back into his room, slamming the door behind him.

Itadori stood up fully, his legs a little shaky from the previous tickling, and decided to do the same. It was the middle of the night after all—sleep was probably in order. However, as he turned the knob to shut the door behind him, he heard a voice loud and clear in his head.

“Sleep tonight, young sorcerer, and get your rest. Because tomorrow—” a sudden pinch to his side as Sukuna wrestled control of his hand—“it’s your turn.”

Itadori regained control almost instantly, and his hand was his again as though nothing had happened. He smiled nervously, not doubting the other’s words for a minute.

And as he got into bed that night, pulling the covers tight around himself, he found he couldn’t wait.

[piercingbonez]

the dance || thomas shelby x reader oneshot

platonic john shelby x reader and some tommy shelby romantic tension with you

warnings: alcohol, swearing, minor angst if you squint

word count: 1.4k

a/n: let me know if you’d prefer reader oneshots to be in third person rather than first!

-

You entered the ballroom with John by your side, a smirk on his face as he handed you champagne as a busboy passed them. "Thank you." You leant over and kissed his cheek, giggling when it left a red mark.

"Ay, down sweet." He teased, prodding your side. "Let’s dance." He held his hand out and you took it with a grin, allowing him to lead you onto the dance floor.

Their dancing was full of laughs and stupid twirls for almost the entire night. You’d also had a few dances with Arthur, though they were more sweet and gentle, his hands on your waist as you swayed softly in time with the music.

"You seen Tommy?" Arthur asked as they danced, looking around.

"Not yet, maybe the king of Small Heath decided not to show." You giggled, resting your forehead on his shoulder. His hands squeezed your hips comfortingly when he noticed some men staring at you, knowing it helped you calm down.

"Speak of the devil and he shall appear." Arthur snorted, swaying and spinning the pair of you around so you could subtly spot the Shelby in the crowd. He was hard to miss, people moved to the side as he walked through the ballroom.

"Lookin' like a right git, as usual." You snickered, spinning you both around again as you danced across the floor. You wrapped her arms tighter around his neck, pulling him close when you saw the way men were staring at your body.

"Oi, my turn." John grabbed his brothers shoulders and pulled him away, Arthur rolling his eyes.

"I better have you again later." He winked, kissing your hand before walking off to smoke, presumably.

"You seen the king?" John chuckled, holding your waist and spinning you at a fast pace, you struggling to keep up with his movements as you laughed. You stumbled a few times and he rolled his eyes. "You 'ave two left feet." He teased. "Stand on mine." You sighed and rolled your eyes back at him, placing your feet on top of his so he could guide the both of you. "There we go." One hand held your lower back securely whilst the other was interlocked with your own in front of you. The touch made your face heat up rapidly.

"'e's eyeing you up." John smirked, watching the way his brother was smoking and staring at you two.

"Probably never seen me in a dress before." You giggled. It wasn't often you wore dresses, usually ditching them for a similar attire to the men, button down shirts, braces and suit trousers.

"Hmm, I must say, it does flatter your figure." He spoke playfully, making you blush again, shoving your face into his neck to hide your embarrassment.

"Shut it, Johnny." You teasingly kissed his neck, knowing it would leave a lipstick stain.

As the song ended John let go quickly, sending you stumbling off his feet. "Git!" You snarled, smacking his chest as you tried to steady yourself.

"Watch out, Kingie is on 'is way." He smirked and nodded to his approaching brother, chuckling when your eyes widened.

"John!" You hissed as he walked off with a cheeky grin and a wink.

"Sophie." A hand was on your waist suddenly and you were forced to spin around.

"T-Tommy." You cursed at the way your voice skipped nervously, looking up at his smirking face.

"Care to dance, darling?" He said smoothly, making you face heat up. Normally it was just Y/N, no nickname, certainly no darling. Normally Thomas didn't care much for you, he treated you the same way he treated any of his Peaky men.

"Th-Thats new." You mumbled with a small smile, taking his outstretched hand. He used the hand on your hip to pull you into his chest, your cheeks hot as you looked up at him.

"Hmm, felt it would be fitting, you look gorgeous." Thomas' gruff voice never failed to make you melt, especially with what he was saying and how close your bodies were. "Never seen you look like this before." You wrapped your arms around his neck as his other hand made its way to your hip as well, lightly squeezing the skin there in a comforting gesture.

"I-It's John's doing." You said quietly, looking over to the snickering boy watching the two of you sway to the music.

"Remind me to thank 'im later." He chuckled deeply, one hand sliding to the dip of your back, pulling you ever closer so your chests were pressed together.

Thomas kept the dance slow, not only because he'd been watching the way you tripped and stumbled with John, but it meant he could keep you close to him. He wanted to make sure that everyone in the room knew that you were with them, with him.

"We thought you weren't gon' show." You mumbled, peering up at him, your doe eyes meeting his.

"And miss your birthday?" He raised an eyebrow. "Of course not, sweet." The nickname that was so natural out of his brothers mouths made you blush, it was different coming from him.

"John did a wonderful job plannin'" You smiled, Thomas nodding in agreement.

"I'm glad you're 'avin a nice time." The two of you twirled gracefully, though you didn't notice the glares and threatening stares he was sending to any men who's eyes trailed downwards.

"So does John treat you well?" Thomas' asked casually, swaying you to the music as it slowed. You nearly choked, looking up at him with wide eyes.

"Wh-What?" Thomas raised an eyebrow. "He-He's a good friend?" Your comment came out as more of a question, Thomas smirking.

"Friend? I always thought you two'd end up together." Your cheeks flushed at his statement, you and John had actually had a secret relationship at one point but they broke it off as the boy had been nervous about putting you at risk. Granted, that seemed stupid now you were working with them.

You sent a glance to John who just winked and blew a kiss to you, Thomas chuckling above you. "You sure there's nothin'?" Deep down he hoped your answer would be no. He'd had his eye on you for a long time, though no one ever noticed. Your desk was definitely not intentionally placed in front of his office window and he often found himself in a gaze looking at you.

"No." You mumbled, looking down awkwardly.

"Hmm, and does that mean you're free tomorrow?" The question caught you off guard, was Thomas asking you out? You shook your head quickly and his hand went to hold your jaw softly, tilting it up with his thumb on your chin. "I'll pick you up at 9:30. Bring a coat." You nodded, your brain swirling with so many thoughts that you felt somewhat lightheaded. "Happy birthday, Y/N." He dipped down and kissed the corner of you mouth, barely giving you enough time to react before he smirked and walked away swiftly.

John practically ran towards you, grabbing your shoulders. "The fuck was that, ay?" He chuckled with a smirk, your eyes wide.

"I 'ave no fuckin' clue." She giggled in disbelief, Johns hands sliding to her hips to spin her around. You couldn't help the heat that rose to your cheeks with his touch, no matter how much you tried to tell yourself you didn't have feelings for him anymore, his gentle touches always made your face heat up.

"That dress is doing wonders for you." He winked, eyeing you up and down again. Deep down he still felt the same tug at his heart when he saw you with another guy, but he knew how his brother felt, and god forbid he tried to get in his way.

"Thanks Johnny." You stood on your toes to kiss his cheek again, sending sparks through the both of you, John laughing and spinning you around again before pulling you into a dance.

The best friends spent the rest of the night dancing together, though Arthur stole a couple more. John made a, as you called it, legendary toast in your honour before lifting you onto his shoulder, Arthur holding you up as well. Thomas surprisingly made a speech too, though it was short and sweet and made your cheeks go heat up, John sending you a wink.

You couldn’t have imagined a better birthday.

[cuquitalocita]

nothing like customer service |rowaelin month- day 1|

rowaelin masterlist

an: starting it off with a requested part two (prequel??) to this fic. hope you all enjoy and happy rowaelin month!

word count: 3,406

~~

Of two things, Rowan Whitethorn was one-hundred percent certain. 

One: he never should have applied for college if it meant getting a job like this to stay afloat.

Two: he didn’t get paid nearly enough to deal with customers like the woman in front of him. 

It was six in the morning, Rowan wagered. It probably wasn’t the woman’s fault she was so cranky. But it most definitely was her fault that she was choosing to take it out on Rowan on only his second day of work at the local cafe near campus. 

Rowan sighed, attempting not to show his rising frustration with the black-haired woman who had confronted him moments before, yelling with all she was worth. The sun wasn’t even out yet.

“Ma’am I-”

“Maeve.” Rowan allowed his posture to drop a smidge as his boss’s hand came to rest on his shoulder. The smaller man had to step beside Rowan to even be seen but by the raise of his brows, it was clear Malakai was familiar with the woman. “What seems to be the problem this morning?” 

The tense smile Malakai wore faded as Maeve turned her dark gaze on him, her eyes glittering. “It seems your new hire is quite useless, Malakai,” she hissed. “Can’t even make a simple cup of coffee.” 

Rowan was trying his best not to growl as Maeve locked eyes with him once more and gave him a cold smile. She knew damn well he hadn’t been the one making coffee. But it seemed this woman just wanted to see the world burn. Rowan knew something else he wanted to see burn too. 

“That would be my fault, I’m afraid.”

Rowan nearly jumped at the new feminine voice that sounded behind Maeve, clearly belonging to another woman. He didn’t need to see her to know she was younger, her voice almost musical compared to the deep rasp of Maeve’s. 

He stayed still as Maeve was lightly pushed to the side, revealing a girl he knew to be about his age. Rowan swore his breath caught in his throat as he took her in, wondering how he hadn’t noticed her on campus.

She was absolutely stunning. 

Golden blonde hair ran down her shoulders and covered her head with a beanie, just showing the red tips of her ears due to the fall wind and the tips of her cheeks and nose were stained red from the cold as well, almost making it impossible to see her freckles if one hadn’t been focused on her face. 

Rowan was. 

But what truly caught his gaze were her eyes. Bluer than he had ever seen before, he was just able to make out the golden ring around her pupils which somehow emphasized the pink of her lips. 

She smiled easily as if there was a single thing about Maeve that was even remotely amusing, and shot Malakai a knowing look. Unsurprisingly, her smile was truly breathtaking. 

The girl pointed to the coffee in Maeve’s hand- apparently loaded with enough cream and sugar to “kill a small animal” and locked eyes with Maeve. “I wasn’t paying attention when they called the order number and it seems you grabbed mine. I believe this-” she held up a small cup of coffee that looked jet black. “-is yours.”

“Miss Galathynius.” Maeve seemed to almost hissed the words. “Isn’t it a bit too early for me to be dealing with you this morning?” 

The girl didn’t balk, only raised a single brow in amusement as she adjusted the beanie on her head. “Always a pleasure running into you, Professor.” The small smile she wore would have infuriated Rowan had he been on the receiving end of it. Instead, it had him biting his tongue to keep from laughing as he looked between the women in front of him. 

He knew Maeve had looked familiar. He now recognized her as the statistics professor at the University. 

“Well,” Maeve didn’t respond to her. She turned back to Rowan with a glare that had him sitting up straight, his face unwavering. “Apparently you owe me a new coffee and I’ll be on my way.” She addressed the young man behind Rowan who quickly burst into action, a look of sheepish guilt on his face. 

Rowan handed her the coffee quickly enough and Maeve was headed to the door. She turned back to the blonde woman, shoving her sweet coffee into her hands with enough forced to knock over a small person or severely warn her had the coffee not been capped.

“I expect to see you in class this afternoon, Miss Galathynius.” The saccharine smile the girl returned held a spark of mischief. “That is if you deign to show up.” 

“I’ll be the one with a pen in my hand.” 

The bell rang out loud as the door smacked shut behind her. Rowan shook a little as some of the fall wind went up his back.

“Bitch.” Rowan barely heard the muttered word uttered by the woman in front of him. 

His head whipped around as he took in her eyes that were glued to the door that had just shut.

“Aelin…” Rowan had forgotten Malakai was even behind him. He turned to see the older man watching her with a warm smile. She returned it with a sheepish smile of her own as if caught stealing cookies from the cookie jar. 

“Sorry,” she mumbled, even though she sounded anything but. 

The girl- Aelin finally turned to Rowan, pinning him with her blue gaze. She gave him a polite smile and it was made very clear to him that this woman could have anyone wrapped around her finger in a matter of moments. It slightly infuriated him. She was probably one of those people who believed she was entitled to everything in the world around her. That she could bat her pretty lashes and it would be done. 

“Can I just get a blueberry muffin?” She held up the coffee Maeve had shoved into her hand. “I guess I already have my coffee.” 

“Not thanks to you,” Malakai chirped as he walked back behind the counter. “I wonder, Aelin, do you go out of your way to infuriate the poor woman?”

Aelin looked ready to burst as she bit her lip and looked down at her feet, shaking her head. “Nope. That’s just a perk.” 

Malakai snorted as Rowan rang up her order. 

She made to pull out her wallet to pay but was stayed by Malakai’s hand. She glared at the older man as he waved off the cash. “Malakai-”

“No, Aelin, what have I said?”

“But I don’t work here anymore! I should pay just like everyone-” 

“And you have,” he insisted, shaking his head with a tone of finality. “Time and time again. Now take your muffin and get out of my new hire’s face.” 

Rowan jerked at the mention of him and Aelin smirked as she looked at him, her gaze running over his body. “Trust me,” she scoffed. “I bet he’d love for me to be in his face.” 

Luca choked on whatever he was eating as a dark blush attacked Rowan’s face. He attempted to cover it up as he leveled her with an unimpressed look. “Not likely, Princess. Don’t you have a class to go to?” 

“Couldn’t I ask you the same thing?” she replied. 

“That doesn’t concern you.” 

Her eyes narrowed. “Then why does my answer concern you?” 

Rowan shrugged. “It doesn’t. But if Maeve’s reaction to you was any sign, you need all the academic help you can get.” 

In what seemed like a second, the playful girl in front of him was gone. Her blue eyes hardened and she scoffed a cold sound, ruffling back into her purse and pulling out a small handful of coins. She dumped them furiously into the tip jar. 

“For the great service,” she snapped. 

She was out the door without taking her muffin. 

~~

Surprisingly enough, Aelin was back the next morning, ordering the same shock-inducing coffee with the same bright smile on her face. But this time it was Luca at the register, and the stumbling boy seemed to be in a wonderful conversation with her before she turned to Malakai. 

“Maeve’s a bitch,” was all she said.

“Takes one to know one,” Luca chipped in from his spot by the register. Aelin shot the boy a venomous glare that quickly had him turning back to the customer in front of him. Rowan hid his smile as he gave her his back. 

“Oh shut up, Luca. You’re not even out of high school yet.” 

Aelin threw her hands up in frustration, her blue eyes sparkling with a look Rowan was starting to think about more and more often. “What am I supposed to do? I’m an arts and humanities major!” 

“I think you can deal with Maeve for another semester and then never see her again,” Malakai said unhelpfully. 

“If I don’t set her classroom on fire first,” she muttered, causing Rowan to bite his tongue. There was no doubt in his mind that Aelin would do it. 

“What was that?”

“Nothing. I better get going if I want to make it to Hammel’s class on time. Thanks for the coffee again.” She raised herself out of the stool.

Before she could make her way to the door, Rowan shoved a bag into her hand, his face stoic. Her eyes flared with indignance before seeming to check herself. 

She eyed it warily before taking it gently and gazing inside. Aelin eyed him with pure bemusement.

“A blueberry muffin,” Rowan stated. She raised her brows once more.

“I can see that.” She placed a few coins in the tip jar. 

~~

It was times like these that Rowan was sure he wanted to quit his job. 

A young college girl stood in front of him sporting ridiculous-looking pigtails and a University sweater, and Rowan was more than sure he wouldn’t feel bad if he were to kick her out at that very moment. 

It was the third time this week the annoying brunette had decided something was wrong with her order and felt the need to comment on it. Rowan could admit that she had been quite polite about it, but he couldn’t care less when they were in the middle of another morning rush. 

“Luca,” he barked out, causing the teenager to spin around quickly with wide eyes. “Make me a small caramel latte. Quickly,” he enforced as he set to work. Rowan turned back to the girl in front of him as Luca shoved the new coffee into his hand. 

He gave her the coffee along with her money back and watched with rigid stillness as the girl tipped him and turned to leave the coffee shop.

Aelin watched him from her table in the corner, shaking with silent laughter at his tense shoulders. By the time the bell rang signaling the girl had left the shop, Aelin was holding a new blueberry muffin in her hand and gazing at the doorway. She turned back to Rowan as his jaw seemed ready to snap.

“Aren’t you going to say thank you?” He met her gaze with a raised silver brow. 

“For what?” he snapped. “She complained. For the third time this week.” Aelin threw her head back and laughed.

“Oh, not for the order,” she smirked. “I meant for tolerating you.” Her blue eyes twinkled. Rowan turned back to prepare another order so she couldn’t see the twitch of his lips that almost looked like a smile. 

~~

It was another four days before Rowan saw her again.

She was back later than usual- this time in the afternoon on a Wednesday, and the cafe is basically empty apart from a few other college students. Unlike them, she gravitated straight to the bar top and dropped all of her heavy textbooks with a loud huff. 

“I don’t suppose you’d mind being an accomplice to arson?” she mused. Rowan was glad she couldn’t see the smile on his face as he prepared a coffee with his back to her. 

“Only if I get to light the flame,” he deadpanned as he handed the coffee off to the student it belonged to. He watched as Aelin dropped her textbook before catching it with her other hand.

“I’m sorry-” she choked out a laugh. “Did you just make… a joke?” Rowan said nothing but gestured to the clear cabinet of pastries in front of him, asking her what she wanted. Aelin pointed to a blueberry muffin in the window cabinet. Rowan bagged the muffin silently, pretending not to notice Aelin’s gaze on him or the insistent yearning to look at her. He handed her the muffin and Aelin took it without a word, the two working in silence until Aelin shoved her textbooks back into her backpack and dropped a few coins into the tip jar. 

Rowan’s words stopped her with her hand on the door handle.

“Thank you.” 

~~

It’s raining the next morning Rowan sees her. Fall was finally in full swing and Rowan had taken to wearing long sweatshirts that covered up most of the tattoo in his arm to keep him warm, much to Luca’s dismay. The kid claimed it was ‘way too cool to cover.’ 

Aelin walked in around her usual time, closing her umbrella with a large snap, and barely acknowledged Rowan as she walked up to the counter.

“Same as usual?”

Her response was a small silent nod and Rowan set to work, enjoying the amiable silence between them. But it was strange for Aelin. She was usually so chipper in the mornings and usually, she was the main thing that woke him up. He didn’t think he liked quiet Aelin. 

“Are you…” he cleared his throat. “Are you okay?”

Aelin’s eyes shot up to his own, surprise coating her features at his out-of-character question. She paused the movements of her fingers as she looked at him before shaking her head and continuing. 

“Yeah,” she shrugged, smiling a little bit. “I just hate the rain. It’s so glum.” 

“Nah.” The words were out of his mouth before he could think better of them. “Rain is pretty cool actually. It’s like… a reminder. That the world isn’t always pretty. And yet it still goes on another day.” 

The look of shock coating Aelin’s features had Rowan immediately feeling insecure and he realized he hadn’t meant to speak so honestly. But as Aelin’s smile softened, and she placed a few coins into the tip jar, Rowan allowed his own to turn up at the corners. 

Maybe he hadn’t regretted it.

~~

“All good customers today?” she asked. Aelin had returned during yet another afternoon during a rare time for her, with a sweet smile on her perfect face. Rowan groaned as she dropped a few coins into the tip jar.

“I think I’d like to take you up on that arson offer.” 

~~

Aelin is brooding today, Rowan notices the next morning as she glared down at the thick red ‘D’ on her paper. She had walked in without her usual brightness, her smiles dim, and her small talk bland. Rowan was too much of a coward to admit it more than bothered him. 

He observed her silently and ignored her glare, simply glancing between her face and her paper before clearing his throat. 

“You look beautiful today. I mean, not that you don’t look beautiful every day but…” Rowan didn’t think he had ever floundered for words harder in his life. He could feel a deep blush creeping up the back of his neck but was more than happy to see the tension in Aelin’s shoulders drop as a girlish smile covered her face. He wasn’t counting, but he swore she dropped more coins than usual today. 

Rowan waited until the door shut behind her before he gazed out the window, more than pleased to see a matching blush on her own cheeks as well.

~~

It had been a week.

An entire week since Rowan had last seen her, and he would be lying if he said it wasn’t bothering him. It was damn near embarrassing how often he perked up at the ring of the door every time someone walked in, only for them to slump back down when he realized it wasn’t the blonde he had been expecting. 

It was the middle of the day, the cafe relatively empty as Rowan gazed pathetically at the unmoving door. He jerked up as Malakai slammed down a tray of blueberry muffins next to him. He looked at the younger man and sighed. 

“It’s her finals week,” he said as if that explained everything. 

“Hmm?”

“She has her statistics final tomorrow and I told her to stay away and study. That’s why you haven’t seen her.”

“She can study here,” he couldn’t help but point out. Malakai only rolled his eyes.

“I hate to break it to you Rowan, but you aren’t the only one who gets distracted when she studies here.” The blush was back attacking the back of his neck in full force and Rowan turned away and began restocking the muffins. 

The thought had crossed his mind more than once- if what he and Aelin had could be anything more than just friends. But he had dismissed the thought as quickly as it had appeared. He liked Aelin- she was kind and funny and hardworking from what Rowan could tell. 

“You know she’d say yes,” Malakai supplied knowingly.

“What?” Rowan pretended to brew some more coffee.

“To… whatever it is that’s going on between you two. She wouldn’t say no, Rowan.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

But he did know. The fact had hit him in the face like a truck at high speed and the realization almost had Rowan dropping the pot of coffee on his feet.

He was in love with Aelin Galathynius. 

~~

“Rowan!”

The man in question barely had time to look up and see a wisp of blonde hair before a smaller body was thrown at him in a full hug. He felt the breath leave his body although it had nothing to do with the weight of the girl in his arms. No- he had been waiting months to have her here. 

Aelin smelled like lemon verbena and it was difficult for Rowan not to inhale the scent that was directly in his face as his nose touched her silky hair. He tried not to squeeze her too tight as he had no idea what was happening. Although he did feel Aelin let out what felt like a giggle as she finally pulled away, not leaving his arms as she looked up at him. 

She held up a thick stack of paper that read ‘STATISTICS FINAL EXAM.’ 

And next to it was thick red A-.

“I did it!” She was beaming at him.

“You did it,” Rowan repeated, unable to look away from the paper. But then it hit him. “You did it!” Lifting her up and squeezing her even tighter, Rowan spun Aelin in a circle, delighted in the laugh that sprang out of her. He wanted to record the sound and listen to it every night. 

Finally, he put her down but once more, he refused to let her go. Aelin made no motion to move away either.

“All thanks to you,” she smirked. “Who knows what I would’ve done without my study buddy?” Rowan didn’t register anything she was saying. He was too busy looking at her mouth- at her perfectly pink lips and how much she wanted to kiss them.

She was saying something-

“Go out with me.” The words sprung out of their own volition. Aelin stilled in his arms, looking up at him with a raised brow before a brilliant smile cracked through.

Rowan didn’t think he was breathing as she reached up and placed a delicate kiss on his cheek, his skin burning at the contact. She grinned. 

“It took you long enough.”

Before he knew what was happening, Aelin had turned away and placed a few coins in the tip jar.

He didn’t need to count them to know it was quite a bit more than usual.

~~

the prompt was: i just realized i’m in love with you

taglist:

@story-scribbler

@rowaelinismyotp

@live-the-fangirl-life

@claralady

@surielandiareendgame

[austarus]

Harrison Wells (Eobard Thawne) x Reader x Harry Wells: Six Crows - Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Inevitable Presage

*A/N: This moodboard was created by my bestest friend and greatest Wells Trash Trio writer @darlingpetao3. 

**Please don’t forget to comment, like, and reblog. It means a lot to content creators of all kinds!

***I’d like to say that this is my own fancast of Thaddeus and Jackson (Dylan O’Brien and Logan Lerman). If you have someone else in mind, then freely think of them in the fic. I do want to also say if you do not like, then do not read. I will not be changing things in my fic to appease every single person as these fics are written for me.

****I’d also like to thank @grimtamlain-writes​ for being my beta reader.

Harrison Wells (Eobard Thawne) x Reader x Harry Wells - Six Crows

MASTERLIST

Word Count: 9366

“Miss me?” Eobard’s trademark smirk became more visible as he stopped quaking, red eyes shuttering out as he ceased his use of the Negative Speedforce.

Barry rolled his eyes as Eobard lent him a hand, “Save it, Thawne.” The futuristic speedster heaved his rival onto his feet. “You’re back because of us, right?”

“And in exchange, I’ve agreed to help you take down a psychopath.”

Both men turned to where Godspeed had been thrown. “Flash, that was nuts! You do like to party.” Eobard adorned his cowl, once more vibrating as the Negative Speedforce circulated through his veins. Barry glanced at his old enemy, both men nodding subtly at each other before eyeing August Hart. He was a bigger threat than their growing rivalry. The speedsters sped to where Godspeed stood in all his menacing electrical glory. “Joining forces with your worst enemy just to take me down. That’s very flattering, Flash, but it won’t do you any good.” Barry side-eyed Thawne. “Don’t you two get it? You can’t kill a god!” Your eyes widened as Hart pumped an open palm towards the clouded heavens, flickers of electricity evident in the clouds. Hart harnessed the natural lightning, commanded it down to the Earth as if he were an ancient lightning deity. What Godspeed held was a literal rod of pure lightning, enough electricity to kill a person.

You could tell Barry was overwhelmed, even with his red cowl on his facial expressions were easily mirroring his thoughts. Could… Could they actually replicate that? Maybe Eobard, but I don’t even know if Barry can, which would make it 1 v 1. Though 2 v 1 are better odds. You hummed to yourself, your hand fiddling with your gloves. Standing a good distance away you hid in the shadows. You held your mask tightly, made from the finest carbons on earth such as tantalum carbide and carbyne colored black to match your aesthetic.

Barry glanced at his temporary ally as if to say, are we certain we can emulate that? Eobard said nothing, rather fully turned to Godspeed. Central city’s hero took that as a yes, both men getting into a stance to generate their own sabers of lightning from the electricity within their bodies. Lightning rods clashed with one another as sparks of energy flew with each assault and parry, the scene almost hurting your eyes. Yet you kept watch in case Eobard faltered, in case the other speedster were to strike him down. Sparks flew, but not one of the three hesitated. The allied speedsters’ attacks were off tempo, but they needed to overpower this speedster. At least destroy one of his two sabers.

The fight kept you on your toes; surprisingly your feet hadn’t hurt you up to this point. You could either thank the adrenaline and suspense rushing through your veins or the upgrades Eo had made to your suit. One of which was to improve the quality of your boots. When the speedsters moved, you did as well keeping your silhouette shrouded in the dark of night. If anything, you wanted the element of surprise should something occur. You steadied your breathing as the fight continued, Barry left to ward off Godspeed, who had parried Eobard away and kicked him square in the chest. Said yellow speedster escaped the scene. Barry struck down one of Hart’s lightning rods, dissipating it. Now it was one saber versus the other in a proximity clash. Barry’s saber grinding down against Hart’s before using a vibrational blast to throw the scarlet speedster away. In turn, Barry’s saber was reduced to miniscule and harmless electrical molecules in the air.

August Hart smirked under his own cowl as Barry tumbled away. Godspeed turned around only to be met with his end, his cowl retracting back to his suit as a pained look caressed his features. His eyes watered as they met with fierce red ones. Eobard had been taking his cowl off as he directed the final blow. You gasped quietly from your higher vantage point, freezing in place as Eobard’s red saber pierced through Godspeed. No matter how many times Eobard had done it, you always froze up. But this wasn’t an unexpected outcome; after all, this is how Eobard tends to deal with nuisances. A small smile graced the Reverse Flash’s features as he pushed his lightning rod further into the crouching speedster.

Barry came to his senses, rolling onto his back only to witness what had happened. His own cowl retracted into his newer suit. “Thawne!” But Eobard ignored him, yanking back his saber and ensuring that August would bleed out to such a degree from his injury. Godspeed crumbled and fell to the side as Eobard stood with his red saber in grandiose glory. He directed his gaze to the man he hated. Of course, he couldn’t let Godspeed kill Barry. Barry was his opposite.

Barry shuffled towards the fallen speedster before the Reverse Flash could do any more damage. Eobard simply turned away, stepping forward. With a flick of his wrist, Eobard dissipated his saber, knowing that ability would come in handy in future fights with The Flash. The forensic scientist checked over Hart, his heartbeat faint. Barry glared up at Eobard. “You could have killed him.”

“Wasn’t that the plan? Didn’t you say you needed help dealing with a threat?” Eobard had turned to Barry and emphasized his words carefully. His icy blue eyes flickered to Hart’s fallen body then to Barry’s hazel eyes. Be careful what you wish for because you’ll get exactly what you ask, Eobard grinned dastardly to himself. “Well, I dealt with it. And now…” The Reverse Flash chuckled as he took a few steps towards his rival, “and now… it’s just you and me, Flash. I’ve been waiting for this moment for a long, long time.” Barry looked at Eobard with hidden hate. You watched Eobard crack his neck as he always did before facing off with Barry. A sort of habit whether it was out of nerves or excitement.

“I’m only gonna say this once.” Barry looked at his once-mentor with a stone-cold look. He took a step. “Walk away while you still can.”

“Allen. You are too weak to stop me.” You watched Eo’s eyes flicker to a solid red, his voice distorting. “And I’m just getting started.” You blinked and before you know it Barry had thrown Eobard a good distance away from over his shoulder. Barry turned to his rival who had disbelief crossed on his features. Eobard got up, resting on one knee as his eyes scanned himself then to Barry. “What did you do?” His hands shook slightly. “I created you. I taught you everything you know! Everything you are, is because of me! What did you do?”

“I got faster. Didn’t you?” The chill that hung in the air from those words stabbed right through Eobard. He recognized that demeanor.

“No.” Eobard gritted his teeth, reluctantly admitting defeat. This time. Acceptance that the scarlet speedster had indeed gotten faster than him. “But I will, Flash.”

Barry took a single step forward with a smirk, but your ‘shadows’ bound the scarlet speedster in place instantly as you had transported yourself in front of Eobard defensively. Barry’s eyes didn’t miss the icy look within your eyes or the sharp shards of ‘umbra’ floating in the air around him. The scarlet speedster had wondered where you’d been hiding.

“One more step and my shadows won’t just bind you in place,” you growled, your hands ready to manipulate your ‘darkness’. “And Iris will have to deal with a jigsaw puzzle to put back together.” The threat was prominent, Barry could tell.

“Such violent words. I always knew you’d betray us for him.”

“This isn’t personal Barry – it’s really not.” You lied. Your ‘darkness’ floated ever closer to the hero. Yes, you would hurt Barry to protect yourself and Eobard, but you wouldn’t kill him – not really your thing.

“You know what he’s capable of and you choose to stay.”

“Iris knows what you’re capable of and she chose to stay. What- is it only ok for you and her to break the rules to be happy and others can’t? To hell with everyone else and what they go through?”

“Sounds like you’ve got things to sort out then.” Barry narrowed his eyes.

“Sounds like you’ve got to keep yourself and your kids in check from fucking up the timeline as you have in the past.” You retorted as Eobard stood up. Barry threw a glare your way, as much as he wanted to, he couldn’t get around how you’ve trapped him. The genius speedster placed his gloved hand on your shoulder, but you shrugged it off. “Maybe you should be the one to re-evaluate some things.”

“What’s wrong Thawne?” Barry shifted his gaze to the speedster behind you. “Not fast enough so you hide behind her to fight your battles?” The scarlet speedster knew he touched a nerve because as he and Iris work together fluidly as a team so did you and Eobard. He just needed to trigger Eobard’s anger in order for him to misstep.

“Mark my words: I will get faster,” Eobard stated firmly before speeding you and him away. The ‘umbra’ around Barry dissipated in thin air instantaneously and he was able to move freely. The speedster glanced back at the very-much injured and partially dead Godspeed. He mulled over a few things in his head.

***

You knew where he was taking you. It was a location of temporary occupancy from previous times. Keystone. Barry wouldn’t dare to look here, fearing that Central City would fall to a meta if he was away for too long. The wind swept through your hair as you tightened your grip on Eobard. The rush of electricity licked at your being. While it was very negative, it didn’t hurt you. Not counting that one time, of course…

Arriving at what you can now call your permanent residence, Eobard placed you down before huffing off and stomping to his lab room. You trailed after him, flinching when you heard glass shatter upon your entry. Papers scattered in the air, glass littered the ground, and chairs thrown against walls. The genius speedster went on a complete rampage, destroying beakers and throwing his tools. This is oddly and ironically all too familiar to me. Your mind trailed to the dark-haired man that no longer existed, threading your hands through your locks in order to maintain the mess from Eobard’s run. Harry does the same thing as his preferred method of stress relief… A part of you felt sullen, the last image of him was when he gave his last goodbye with the rest of the Wells to you before they sacrificed themselves. You chewed on your bottom lip at the memory.

A sigh left your lips as you leaned against the wall, watching the continued destruction unfold. He wouldn’t hurt you. No, never. Not even when blinded with rage and consumed with negative emotions. You let Eobard ride out his anger and frustration until he tired himself. All these items can be easily replaced. However, what he was currently feeling could not be contained any longer. Pandora’s box has been opened. As adept as Eobard is with putting a lid on his emotions, he was human. And like all humans, people have limits. The Reverse Flash had hit his.

Eobard screamed in rage as he flipped a table, breathless. He gritted his teeth and looked at his gloved hands. The tremor did not yield. Barry’s sadistic words echoed in his mind, reeling back memories that the yellow speedster had for years practiced to suppress--tried to burn--while masquerading as Harrison Wells. But those simple words… they were like knives. Cutting through his sanity. It was hard to swallow, his mouth was dry, yet bile climbed at the back of his throat. It was difficult to think straight. Eobard’s vision blurred slightly at the resurfacing public humiliation and betrayal. The harrowing words of never being good enough to be like The Flash. Those words uttered by Barry from this current time mirrored the harsh, ruthlessness of the Barry from his time. All he saw was red. Everything is being set into motion. This Barry is becoming more and more like the Barry from my time. An instance he’d rather avoid, but it seems like fate wasn’t on his side for this. Eobard felt utterly humiliated all over again.

“Eo?”

The speedster snapped his gaze to you, who now stood in front of him with a gentle look. You gingerly took his trembling hands in his. His icy blue eyes were partially glassy, his face  distraught. Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you pulled him close and wrapped your arms around him. You understood and weren’t afraid of what he had unleashed. What he had exactly repressed. Eobard licked his lips, slowly reciprocating the hug. He buried his face in your hair and breathed deeply. He needed to calm himself.

“You’re ok,” you whispered, rubbing his back. "Take all the time you need. I’ll be here.” Eobard simply nodded, shutting his eyes tightly, fighting to hold back the tears. You stood there for what was a few moments but felt like an eternity. And you’d do it all over again for him. The speedster couldn’t fathom being powerless against the man who had single-handedly destroyed his life in the future. Not again.

 You knew; he had told you.

Trauma.

Pulling away from his embrace, you used your ‘umbra’ to take you to the bedroom. He’s exhausted, physically, mentally, and emotionally. With a flick of a wrist, you used your powers to turn on the lights in the room, setting it to dim lighting. Your hand remained in his, tugging at him to the bed. Sitting down, you patted the spot beside you. Eobard shook his head slightly, summoning his speed to work his magic. In a blink of an eye, you were in your pajamas, and he was in his black ones. Adjusting your hair, you went into the kitchen for some water. You passed by the labs, noticing that the shards of glass no longer lingered. Eobard had cleared his chaos... Grabbing a cup of water, you headed back to bed. Eobard gazed out the window, you could tell his mind was elsewhere. It started to rain outside, lightning flickering within the clouds and thunder gently rumbling soon after. Did he wonder if that was Godspeed or Mother Nature? Can he sense if it was Godspeed? You sipped your water before placing it on the bedside counter. Probably.

“Eobard,” you broke the silence that had enveloped you both, getting under the covers. He wasn’t the only one that was exhausted from today. Your nerves were wrecked from the intensity of earlier, leaving you drained and craving sleep. However, you tried to blink it away. You had no doubt about Eobard feeling the same way, yet he raised no concern of it. Rather letting you lead him regarding his health and well-being. The speedster craned his neck to look at you, his eyebrows furrowed. A calculating look was on his face, rather in a distracted way. You patted the spot next to you once more. He sighed before crawling into bed beside you. Opening your arms, you allowed him to slot himself in for cuddles. Eobard may not ask for it, but you had an inkling he needed it. The way his arms tightened around you gave it away.

“Thank you,” he muttered, his lips grazing the skin of your neck. A shiver ran down your spine.

“For what?”

“For keeping me grounded. For being by my side.” When I don’t deserve it. Eobard moved his head back to look at you. You saw the hidden meaning in his eyes, the things he didn’t want to say. “For protecting me when I wasn’t fast enough.” Because I wasn’t good enough to have the upper hand…

You cupped his face, thumbs skimming over the skin under his eyes, “Eobard.” You sensed what he was feeling.

“Hm?”

“You’re more than enough.”

“I wasn’t-”

“-To hell with what Barry thinks or anyone else for that matter,” you stated confidently, pressing a sweet kiss to his forehead. “You are fast. You’re strong. You’re smart and cunning and resourceful.” You dared not to look away, dared not to tear up at how he’s gotten because of Barry. “So what if you weren’t fast today? It was a setback; we can get past this. We always do.” You pecked his nose, continuing, “We’ll train. You and I, just as we had done before. We’ll get stronger – we can even use that method, if need be.”

“No. It’s too risky.”

“But-”

“Do you remember the last time we tried that?”

“Of course, I do-”

“Good, then you’ll remember how badly it left you. The amount of physical and mental strain we had induced on your body.”

“If it’s our only option, then we have to.”

“You passed out for a full day and a half. And for what? Maximum 4-5 minutes of use for that method.”

Totally worth it in my opinion. As bad as it sounds, passing out did help me catch up on my sleep. “You taught me to explore all possibilities before selecting an adequate one.” Eobard pressed his lips into a thin line. He had said those words a few months into Barry’s awakening. He’d been assessing the different avenues he can take to get back home. “Well, if this is a possibility, we should be ready to maximize its efficiency.”

“No, we'll find another option.”

“What if there isn’t another option and we need this one to fall back on?”

“No.”

“You can’t just tell me no.”

“You want to hear it in French? Non.”

“It’s the only trump card we have. Other than you-know-what.” Eobard pressed his lips into a thin line at your words. In a way, you were right. He knew he was being too stubborn to accept it though. You had two wild cards should something arise. But the image of blood everywhere returned to him. The amount of blood you coughed up, trickling from your mouth. He couldn’t put you in that position again. “We’ll do endurance training. Strength training. Whatever it is so we can be ready,” you coaxed, running your fingers over his cheek. “I have you after all,” you smiled sweetly at him, adorning your best puppy eyes. You knew full well of the consequences, but at steady increments you can increase the time to use that method while abating the collateral damage that happens to your body.

“Fine, but we carefully monitor everything. And I mean everything.” You nodded sleepily; a cheeky grin left on your face. Eobard kissed your lips, pressing his forehead against yours with lovestruck eyes. “I can’t afford to lose you.”

“You won’t,” you mumbled, shutting your eyes and falling asleep to his warmth.

***3 Months Later***

You huffed, deflecting another attack from Eobard’s advance on you. Your ‘shadow’ saber sizzled against his lightning saber. Sparks of energy and ‘darkness’ flew. Your stance had improved, your body moving fluidly; side-stepping from where your sabers had clashed to create more distance between the two of you. Eobard knew your strategy; it followed your long-range fighting style. Assess the opponent, let them make the first move, then strike from the given distance. It was all so simple, but effective. You held your saber in a front guard position, your muscles aching but you refused to settle for a withdrawal regarding this sparring session. You waited, knowing that while Eobard’s anger fueled his speed, he needed to channel patience and a sense of calm when handling his saber. If he were to go against Barry, he’d need to paddle between calculated hits with a decent amount of force while being able to dodge effectively. He mustn’t let his anger lure him into creating an opening for Barry to strike, whether with sword or fist.

Controlled negativity

Soon after you and Eobard talked that night the following day you two discussed and analyzed the focal points of your combined training. Gideon supplied schematics and a recording of the Godspeed showdown for examination. While Eobard generally preferred a quicker solution to most things, he understood that this would take time. Patience was his friend after all these years. And in turn from the progress that you and he made, the dark-haired genius would scheme a plan of attack in an opportune time. Eobard needed to essentially master swordplay in order to maximize his adequacy of the lightning rod. He could easily throw lightning. You, on the other hand, needed to increase your strength and endurance as well as increasing what you can do with your powers. You had inquired that if the both of you were to use that method you might as well learn swordplay. It’ll at least decrease your weak point of close-range combat. Because of your powers, you were mainly a long-range fighter, dodging and weaving to find an opening to attack. Eobard from all his experiences was a close-range fighter with a certain extent of invoking an electrical surge from a few feet away. Yet, it wasn’t really a long-range ability.

At first you two had used wooden swords, at your request, suggesting that starting out with the basics and upgrading to your preferred sabers would be the best idea. The footwork was a bit tricky to learn. The basic goal of footwork was to give you a balanced center from which you can lunge, advance, retreat, attack, parry, etc… Perception went hand-in-hand with footwork. To select the right footwork, you needed to know and understand your own abilities, and have assessed your opponent, at least marginally. This allowed you to identify how close you need to be to hit an opponent, and how quickly you can retreat if they surprise you with a lunge. Both had taken time to learn as you and Eobard had nothing else better to do. Not like you had a baby to look after… It was safe to say that you both had advanced spectacularly in comparison to the sloppy style Eobard had presented when going against Godspeed. Gideon had pointed out that Barry’s movements were much more fluid than Eobard’s rigid ones.

After several days of training though, you both had agreed that a break was needed. The both of you went on a dinner date in Keystone City before Eobard had zipped you halfway across the country to New York City for a few festivals. Prior to being with you, he would be obsessed with progress and results, staying up multiple nights to not lose time. Now, with you by his side he’d been able to balance his plans and time for you. He particularly enjoyed being around you in a stress-free environment, especially when you two are trying to cook something new in the kitchen. You loved making him smile, even if it was at the extent of the kitchen’s state. Yes, sometimes a food fight would arise and chasing and then cuddling after a shower or bath… which would take some time.

Still, Eobard had contemplated quite a bit. He couldn’t use his speed on you during swordplay or else you might get too overwhelmed and hurt from one slip up. You wouldn’t be able to keep up with him, so he stayed in normal time. It would have been convenient, but there were no other willing Speedforce candidates. Making a Speed Mirage would just result in a stalemate as he would be fighting himself. No room to really improve there.

Eobard moved once more, cutting the air right as you somersaulted away and getting back onto your feet. Before you could take a step forward, a breach opened up in the corner of your makeshift training area. Your speedster genius stepped in front of you, lightning blade at the ready. You narrowed your eyes, dissipating your saber and creating serrated ‘shadow’ shards as the breacher stepped through. More like, sped through with his lightning licking up the air behind him. Red and black lightning?

A young man around his twenties had stepped through, his cowl technologically retracting to his speedster suit. His speedster suit was black with some red outlining sort of like Barry’s yellow outlining on his. His emblem was a red lightning bolt in a reverse fashion with a white center. Similar to Eobard’s emblem yet different. The young speedster’s heart hammered in his chest as he had made it to the other side of the Time Breach.

This new speedster flinched at the shards in the air, his hands raised up in his defense, “Ay, woah woah woah, no need for that. I come in peace. Definitely not in pieces.”

“Who are you?” Eobard demanded, eyes flashing red while you persisted with your ‘shadows’. 

One flick of the wrist and he’s done for.

“Uh, well, uh, you see, funny story actually- you’re my parents. And… I’m Thaddeus.” The breacher spoke with a nervous smile. “Thaddeus Thawne. Your son.”

Your breath got caught in your throat. Thaddeus. My- “My son…” The shards fell to the ground, breaking softly as if like fragile glass as the remnants decayed into nothing. 

Eobard lowered his rod, his voice low as he gave his supposed speedster son a hard look, “You’re not supposed to be here. The future will change.”

“Yeah, about that- the future is already changing so, really this isn’t going to do much, but- I- whatever is going on in this point of time is already changing things where I’m at.” Thaddeus was talking quickly while you were trying to wrap your mind around things. Eobard gauged his son as he stepped closer towards the two of you. “Not the welcome party I was exactly expecting- but anyway, I tracked Nora here- so many things have happened. Jackson was-” The yellow speedster simply flicked his wrist to dismiss his lightning saber.

Your eyes met Thaddeus’, “-Who’s Jackson?”

Dejection flickered on Thaddeus’ face. “He’s my twin brother. I- he’s. Gone.”

“Gone?” Twins. Goosebumps pebbled your skin.

Eobard crossed his arms, raising his eyebrow. A similar thought crossed his mind. “What do you mean ‘gone’?” You remained quiet through their exchange.

“He got erased from existence…”

“How?”

“He and Harry. In my time. They got erased. One minute, we were in the kitchen discussing Hellion, a meta from my time by the way, and then they just… started disintegrating. They’re just gone and-” You saw the scared look of a child in his eyes. Thaddeus’ voice shook slightly, but he reprimanded himself to stay put.

“-But how?”

“Harry is Jackson’s dad.” Thaddeus pulled his speedster gloves off. “When I had Gideon track things it pointed me to this time period, but because things had been rapidly changing, Gideon wasn’t able to pinpoint the exact time and date for me.”

I… I had two sons. Jackson and Thaddeus. Twin boys. From Eobard and… and Harry. A tear slipped from your face as you disappeared into the ‘darkness’. You couldn’t breathe. You needed to breathe. Tears began to stream from your eyes as you drifted through the air. It’s just not possible… Your wings made out of the night's material flapped as blades of wind ran over your skin.

“Mom,” startled, Thaddeus had made a move to try to follow you, but Eobard stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. He knew what you needed.

“Give her some time. She needs to think and breathe. Space is good.” A thought wormed its way through Eobard’s mind. “Come, we have some tests to run before continuing this talk.”

***

Rubbing your eyes, you re-entered your home with a clearer mind. There were still some holes that needed to be filled. Like how I managed Harry and Eobard without the world self-destructing because only the gods above know that those two men can be ballistic on their own, in their respective ways. Wrapping your cardigan tighter around yourself. Soft voices greeted your ears, coming from Eobard’s make-shift lab.

“Dad, you know you didn’t have to, right?”

Eobard huffed slightly, “There’s nothing wrong with being thorough.”

The air didn’t seem so tense as you entered the room. You knocked on the metal doorframe to get their attention, “What’s going on?”

You noticed Thaddeus was out of his suit and wearing a change of clothes. “Dad was worried that my first-time jump would mess up the Speedforce system,” Thaddeus explained to which the villainous speedster rolled his eyes. “So, he ran some tests and did some blood work.”

“Yes, well. Would not want a repeat of what happened to me all those years ago.” Eobard turned to you, stepping close and bringing you in his arms. You circled your arms around him. Thaddeus smiled warmly at his parents. It had been awhile since he had seen you and Eobard this close. “Are you ok?”

“I will once we get to the bottom of this,” you whispered back to him. Breaking away you nodded at him before the two of you turned to your son.

“Now that we’ve all congregated let’s start this again, shall we?” Eobard leaned against a desk; his arms crossed. “Start from the beginning.”

“If I do things will take a slight turn.” When neither you nor Eobard chose to comment, Thaddeus took that as a sign to proceed with his truth. You and Eobard would be the judge of what comes next. Thaddeus took in a breath, sitting up straighter. “My name is Thaddeus Thawne. My mother is (Y/N) (L/N) and I have two fathers. Eobard Thawne and Harry Wells.” Your mind shifted to Harry. “I got my powers from you, dad.”

That explained his red lightning, but the black lightning aspect? Could it be…?

“I have a twin brother- had- his name is Jackson Wells, and a big sister. Jesse Wells, who you both know as Jesse Quick, the Flash of Earth-2.” Thaddeus pulled out something from his pocket. A picture. He handed it to you. The six of you were smiling, two children by your side. It was an autumn picture by the lake. Your fingers traced over the image of Jackson and Harry; your heart dropping in your chest. “This was the one thing that I salvaged before entering the Negative Speedforce to get back here. At least in there the images of Jackson and dad wouldn’t get erased. We were a happy family.”

“Were?” You echoed, your eyes not leaving the picture.

“Yes, until Jackson and I were six. And dad- Eobard was executed…” Eobard’s eyes dimmed, his hands gripping at his arms. You turned slightly to look at him, the hurt he must be feeling. To be ripped away from you and his soon-to-be family. You pressed a free hand on top of his. The air in the room felt tense, suffocating. “Executed due to his crimes as the Reverse Flash against The Flash and the Speedster Association of Central City. Harry and Mom shielded me from the Speedster Association when my powers were developing as a kid. They couldn’t be suspicious. You said it was easier with Eobard around. They wouldn’t know because we’d be doubly protected and his own Negative Speedforce would throw them off my own.” You both watched as your son lowered his gaze to his hands. He clenched and unclenched his fists. “The association doesn’t take too kindly to speedsters existing out of their registry, especially with the Negative Speedforce in their veins. To them, I was a mistake that shouldn’t have existed. Jackson didn’t have powers, instead he got his intellect and marksmanship from Harry. But that didn’t sour the brotherhood we had. You three treated us like equals. Powers or no powers. Jackson and I got our intelligence from both dads and that killer charm from mom. You and Eobard and Harry loved us to bits and pieces even if all of it started rocky.” Thaddeus smiled wistfully, his fingers running over the knuckles of his opposite hand.

“But?” You quired, tilting your head. There was always a ‘but’.

“But that changed when The Flash caught wind of me. And- and you fought him, mom. Harry and Jesse tried to let Barry come to his senses, but…” Thaddeus met your eyes, a haunted look in them. “You fought him because he was coming after me. I was just 12 years old. Him and Iris were there. I wasn’t a threat, but he saw me as one.  To them I was a plague. A reminder. But I don’t regret who my parents are at all. All three of them.”

“What happened next?” Eobard quietly asked, motioning with his hand for his son to continue. It didn’t help the growing cold hatred that proceeded to sprout in his being towards Barry Allen.

“Barry put mom in a coma and locked her up at STAR labs. ‘For monitoring purposes’, he had told Harry. No matter how many times dad pleaded, Barry never let her go. You’re still...” Thaddeus lowered his voice; his eyes flickered a dangerous red. “You’re still in a coma because of him and Iris.” He ran a hand through his hair, taking a breath to control himself. Eobard saw his son’s electricity flicker in his hands, the negative particles. Just like him. No question, this was his son.

“Barry broke our family. Again.” Your bottom lip quivered as you choked out those words. You turned to Eobard with anger and glassy eyes. Your own speedster was distraught and pissed off, he pulled you in. He anchored you before your emotions consumed you intensely. “Why is it that we can never be happy?”

“Again?” Thaddeus raised an eyebrow.

“When Barry and I made a deal- he would go back to save his mother while I and your mother went to the future. I- we- were pregnant. She was 10 weeks pregnant… If it was a boy his name was going to be Thaddeus. It was going to be you. Supposed to be you that...” Eobard’s voice quivered slightly as you pressed into him. “But then we fought, and Eddie shot himself, my distant ancestor at the time. I got erased from existence and…”

“And you ceased to exist in my womb.” You muttered, breaking away and glancing at your child. . “I lost you the first time. And now it’s with Harry and Jackson and I- I already saw Harry sacrifice himself for Barry. It’s always for Barry. Now I don’t get to meet my other son. I don’t get to carry that other bundle of joy and terror in my arms and nurture him with you.” Thaddeus couldn’t fathom the amount of loss in your life. First him, and now Harry and Jackson. Jackson, who you’ll never know.

“I’m sorry, mom.” Thaddeus stood and took your hand in his. He gripped it, warming your cool hand up.

“Don’t be sorry. You’re not the one in the wrong at all.” You shook your head at your speedster son and hugged him tightly. The young breacher hugged you back, his own eyes getting watery. He pushed those tears away. He never thought he’d get another chance to see you again.

“Thaddeus,” Eobard started. “Why did you come back?” You and Thaddeus broke the hug. He looked to his dad knowing this would be an inevitable question thrown his way. “What did you hope to achieve by coming back to us now?”

With a breath, Thaddeus dug into his pocket and pulled out a little device. “Jackson and I made an enhanced Negative Tachyon device for myself. I later made a duplicate just in case. I’ve brought it for you. For when you beat down Barry.” You opened your mouth to say something, but Thaddeus stopped you. “I’m not interfering with dad’s fight with Barry, I know it’s something dad has to do, but he can’t face it alone. I should be fast enough to keep XS from interjecting. Nora and her family have been screwing with the timeline. Why can’t I? Why can’t we find a way to get Harry and Jackson back? You’ve said it before dad, ‘the timeline is malleable’. So, why can’t we make things work for us?”

He’s right. If Barry and his legacies can freely mess with the timeline to secure their happiness, then why can’t we?

Eobard glanced at you, his hand gripping onto yours. Your eyes shifted to your hands then up to his eyes. A silent conversation to Thaddeus. Your son held out the device. Turning back to him, Eobard let go of your hand and plucked up the Tachyon device to examine its contents.

“If we’re meant to make this work,” you had started, crossing your arms and warning the two speedsters, “then no one is taking any speed drug of any kind.”

“Who’s stupid enough to take speed drugs anyway?”

“You’d be surprised,” you mumbled the answer to Thaddeus’ question, thinking of Zoom’s reign of terror and Trajectory’s couple weeks of… whatever it is she wanted. You couldn’t remember, really.

“I think this will come in handy, especially when we use that method.” Eobard musing, his mind already wanting to recalibrate it to his speed level. Excited to teach his son his secrets to being a speedster.

“That method?” Thaddeus was visibly confused.

“Fusion Link,” you simply responded while Eobard smirked, a little twinkle in his eyes. Intrigue and excitement were written on Thaddeus’ face. This was one of your wild cards even Barry can’t hope to achieve with Iris.

Let’s raise a little hell to the West-Allen family.

***

“So, how does Fusion Link work?”

“Basically,” you started, cutting up some chicken breast while Thaddeus sliced some vegetables, “your dad and I fuse into my body. His powers are mine and mine are his. It’s essential that our essences and minds resonate at a harmonic aptitude rather than risk serious factors and dissonance.” You added the chicken to the oiled pan to cook at a steady temperature.

“Makes sense, so that’s why my lightning is black and red. But why is it only your body?”

“I don’t know. All I know is that the tips of my hair get a bit darker, but when I use his speed, my eyes go all red like his. Other than that, it’s pretty subtle”

“Cool. So how did that happen?”

“Well, your dad got exorcised out of Nash’s body by Barry and the others.”

“Are you fucking serious?”

“Yup and that was due to the Multiverse Crisis meltdown. Harry and all the Wells in said multiverse were stuck in Nash’s body. Hence why your dad was too because he has a Wells body. So, when he got exorcised, his essence was roaming around looking for a body when apparently his respective body was in the Negative Speedforce. From what I remember, Eobard ran into the Negative Speedforce to avoid the consequences of the Multiverse Crisis. So rather, your dad’s essence found me and was in my body before we had access to a stabilized Speedforce to find his body. I guess our essences just linked and seemed to harmonize after that. You know? Compatibility and all.” You had gotten started on making the fruit smoothies.

“That’s wild. Oh my god.”

“What are we talking about?” Eobard entered with the tachyon device in hand and a small tool in another.

“How you got exorcised.” Thaddeus smirked, adding the vegetables in with the chicken.

Eobard snorted, “I don’t see how that’s relevant to making dinner.”

“I don’t see how you’re being relevant or helpful to us right now,” you retorted with some snark.

The speedster villain rolled his eyes as you stuck your tongue out at him. Eobard set down his stuff to pull out the cups and straws, “What’s your alias anyway?”

“Hm?” Thaddeus had tasted the chicken to see if it was fully done or not. “Oh, it’s Kinetic.”

“Kinetic,” you repeated.

“Yeah, like kinetic energy. The energy at which a body possesses by virtue of being in motion.”

You smiled at your son before looking at Eobard. Thaddeus was a bit clumsy and can act like an excited puppy, but he means well.

“I like it. Did Jackson have a code name?”

“Yeah, we called him Paladin.”

I wonder what Jackson’s like… but something’s not adding up. If crisis destroyed the multiverse, then how is Jay Garrick still alive? If it’s due to the Speedforce protecting him, wouldn’t that count for Jesse as well?

***2 Months Pass***

You simply watched your two boys as they trained. Hopping onto a nearby surface, you kicked your feet every so often.

“Today’s lesson will be focusing on Speed Mirages,” Eobard started. “A Speed Mirage is an illusion created by a speedster moving back and forth between two places extremely fast, making it look like they are in two places at the same time.

“So, they’re not necessarily Time Remnants,” Thaddeus interjected. He’d seen Time Remnants before, after all Jesse and Harry mainly trained him while Jackson was the one to take up the project on making Thaddeus’ suit. Don’t worry, Jackson. We’ll make things right. We’ll bring you and dad back. His eyes met Eobard’s again. We won’t let dad die this time. We’ll be a family again.

“Precisely.” Eobard started to explain, and Thaddeus humored him. After all, this would be a first for both of them regarding Thaddeus learning his powers. “A Time Remnant, also known as timeline remnants or temporal duplicates, is a phenomenon that occurs as our time travel abilities. Due to possible time ruptures and changes brought by speedsters traveling (or staying) further back in time or even a speedster's death, the time remnants are copies of the original speedsters preserved via the Speed Force as if in their original timelines. It gives the appearance in the new timeline in order to prevent further time paradoxes.”

“I’ve made Time Remnant’s before,” Thaddeus ran a hand through his hair, “To make a Time Remnant, a speedster just travels a little bit into the past, creating a clone of themselves. But as an end result, the Time Remnant from that discarded timeline is used as a sacrifice for that given situation. They’re expandable and that your potential future dies along with it. Another potential future is created due to the knowledge of the future regarding that time frame.”

Of course, he’d catch on quickly. Eobard smirked, cracking his fingers slightly as he started running back and forth, creating a Speed Mirage. “Always remember, the Speed Force serves as a "bomb shelter" that shields the speedster from deaths of their past selves.”

“That’s what Harry and Jesse told me.”

“The moment you stop running back and forth at an even pace, an even frequency, then the Speed Mirage will disappear.” Eobard did as so, and the Speed Mirage vanished.

“So, it’s a multitasking aspect. Run back and forth to deceive the human eye while also making calculated movements or else it’ll throw the Speed Mirage off.”

“Practice makes perfect,” Eobard quirked an eyebrow at his future son.

“Schway.” You grinned at Thaddeus’ enthusiasm. “When am I going to see Fusion Link?” You and Eobard glanced at each other. “I’ve been here for, like, what? Two months and I haven’t seen it? I wanna see you and dad kick some ass in that Fusion form.”

“Why not?” A laugh left your lips as you jumped down from the surface you were on. “But you get your butt right to making that Speed Mirage happen.”

“Come on, mom, you already know I’m a fast learner,” Thaddeus laughed to himself, and you giggled at his speed pun. To which Eobard turned to you as you neared. “I already know how to phase and throw lightning, pretty easy, by the way- And Time Remnant’s aren’t that hard to make.”

“He got that from you.”

“Oh, come on, puns are fun. They’re very ‘punny’.” You wiggled your eyebrows at him.

“Puns are the lowest form of humor.”

“Yeah, but you love me.”

“That I do.” Eobard shook his head at you and held out a hand, his eyes softened at your cheeky smile. “Well, shall we?” You nodded, placing your hand in his, closing your eyes as Eobard did so. It only took a few seconds for the fusion to occur. Thaddeus gasped as he watched with rapt intrigue, you had been right, the differences were subtle. You and Eobard had made adept progress with merging at a faster interval by clearing your thoughts and only thinking of the other. Upon opening your eyes, you were in control of your body with Eobard at the back of your mind, murmuring.

“Do you guys have a name for this?”

“A name?” you echoed.

“Yeah, like… this is an advanced version of you guys. Shouldn’t there be a name?” You and Eobard thought for a moment, but Thaddeus spoke again. “It’d be hard for it to be about your powers because dad has speed, and you have carbon manipulation.”

You stood shocked, “How did you-” You felt Eobard shift for a moment at the back of your mind.

“Jackson and I did some digging,” Thaddeus simply answered, with an exuberant grin. “When… when you were in a coma we started digging in Gideon’s files. We pulled up images and reports, some from Uncle Cisco’s old database.” You crossed your arms at the fact that your sons were snooping around. You’re pretty sure you had a good enough reason that you hadn’t told them in the future of your powers. “You’re Umbress, the empress of the shadows and all that lurks in the dark. Umbra, that’s latin for shade, shadow, or darkness. But really, you manipulate carbon fibers and molecules to your will. Not gonna lie, it’s pretty bussin how you put that together, mom. Black carbon to fool the others and the endless reservoir of carbon all around us.”

The thing is, how much did Future Barry know?

He knew enough to confront you and take you down, Eobard mused to you. Meaning that your own wild card had been discovered.

“I had help and I humored Cisco for the name. Another thing to keep them off my original ability set.”

“Harry knew, didn’t he?”

You pursed your lips as the memory resurfaced, Eobard had seen it before. “We’ll talk about that for another time. The name we can figure out later.” Right as you dissociated with Eobard a breach opened. Now what? You couldn’t believe your eyes as the breacher stepped through with that familiar red-yellow suit.

 Eobard narrowed his eyes; he knew who this was. He’d seen the family picture too, contemplated what a family of six was like. Wells and (L/N) and Thawne interjoined- one of the strongest family lineages to have ever graced this timeline. Eobard thought to himself.

“(Y/N)!”

“Jesse?”

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” Jessed swooped you up in a hug to which you reciprocated. Pulling away she gripped your arms tightly, “(Y/N), where’s my dad? I can’t- I- I woke up and he wasn’t on Earth-2 anymore. Did he-” Jesse then noticed the other two presences in the room, her eyes disregarded Thaddeus but landing on Eobard. In swift movement, Jesse threw her arms around Eobard. The speedster froze in her grip and her smile dropped right off her face as she felt something off. As Jesse pulled away, she felt… a negative force as a spark nipped at her gloved fingers. “You’re not… you’re…”

“I’m sorry,” Eobard whispered as he watched her eyes become glassy, “but I’m not him.”

Jesse let go and stepped back, her voice quivered as she turned to you, “(Y/N). What-”

“Oh honey,” you took her hand and wrapped your arms around her. “I’m sorry. I- I think you might need to sit down for this.”

“No, stop. I don’t need to sit down. Where is my dad?”  She emphasized every word to her question as she moved back to face you, fear rampant on her face. Her blood was iced in her veins. “I woke up one day and he’s gone. No sign of him on Earth-2. What happened to him? Please!”

You lowered your gaze and fidgeted with your hands. You didn’t know how to break this. You shouldn’t be the once to explain this. Barry was. He was to blame for all this. You licked your lips then you spoke up, “When Crisis had ended, we were told the multiverse no long existed. We couldn’t find any trace of Earth-2 or anything. We thought you were… I- The monitor, I believe punished Nash- He’s a Wells, or was, a Wells doppelganger- but… All we know is that when we all ‘woke up’ from the reality of Crisis and Nash had all the Wells doppelgangers in his mind. Your dad and HR. Sherloque. All of them.” You left out the part with Eobard and the Original Harrison Wells. That would be an explanation for later.

“HR’s alive?” The hair at the back of her neck stuck up.

“… He was.” You pushed back the tears; Eobard touched your shoulder, but you didn’t look at him. “They… they all sacrificed themselves for Barry’s artificial Speedforce. Because of Crisis and the deal he made with The Specter, the Speedforce was... dying in a sense. He was losing his speed. It was a wasted effort because it ended up being a temporary fix to a longer issue.” You wondered how this dynamic will impact her relationship with the others. A wave of distraught and loneliness hit her. Just when she had just gotten her dad back, had fixed his mind to be as it should rather than the state Devoe had left it in.

“No...”

“There could have been another way. If only they’d have listened to me, we would have been able to extract all the Wells from Nash. We would have been able to find the multiverse again. I knew it wasn’t dead because things weren’t adding up… But no one listened to me.”

“What about him?” Jesse directed her gaze to Eobard. You let him speak for himself.

“I knew Crisis was coming so I hid in my Speedforce until it passed,” Eobard explained, “I did however underestimate the timing. Time runs differently there. What seemed like 5 minutes could be a day here.”

Jesse nodded bitterly to herself. If only she had heeded that bad feeling in her gut. Then maybe things could have been different… Could dad even survive being in the presence of the Speedforce? “And who the hell are you?”

Thaddeus was jolted out of his thoughts and looked up. Jesse was frowning at him with an expectant look. He proceeded to explain himself to Jesse, showing her the picture he kept.

“Let me get this straight. You’re my younger brother, one of two, at that- and you’re telling me because the timeline is going to shit in the future, I won’t get to meet my other younger brother because of dad’s sacrifice with the other Harrison Wells for Barry?”

“Yeah, sounds about right.”

“This… is just a lot.” Jesse started pacing her mask held tightly in her hand. Approaching her, you pulled her into another hug and that’s when the tears started falling. Your eyes met Eobard and he understood. He tugged Thaddeus and they sped out of the room, leaving you alone with Jesse. The truth… is a heavy burden to bear. Few are ever willing to carry its weight on their shoulders. Your heart strained in your chest as she continued to cry. Tears of your own fell as you held her tightly. All she had was you left. After the two of you calmed down, letting everything out, her puffy red eyes met yours.

“I don’t know where to go,” She croaked, voice tight. “I don’t think I can…”

“Jesse, you’re more than welcome to stay here. With me and us. Until we figure things out. We’re… going to try to figure things out.” You wiped the dried tears off her face with your thumb, the tissue swollen from the tears. “But I need to know if you choose to go back to them.”

“I won’t. I… I can’t… with everything from today that… I’d be ok.”

“It’s ok not to be ok Jesse. I… I just need to know that I can trust you not to divulge this location,” you nodded. “I can’t have them keep ripping things away from me. They already took Jackson and Harry… A son I barely know I was supposed to have.”

“I- I don’t think I can face them just yet, I mean… Barry, mainly, but...” You knew what she meant.

They’re the reason Harrison Wells is dead, and her future brother had gotten erased from existence.

***

Sitting on the couch, you swirled your choice of alcohol in your pristine glass. The picture of your future family was framed on the table beside you. You glanced at it every so often. What rested in your lap was another picture, one of more recent times according to Thaddeus. You and Eobard were absent from the picture, but the boys were older now. Standing with Harry and Jesse. Various thoughts fluttered about in your mind as you stared into your glass. Blinking a few times, you looked up from where you sat to the kitchen opening. Thaddeus and Jesse seem to be getting along. Your throat dried as you watched the two speedsters converse while making dessert, an attempt for Jesse to understand her new brother. An attempt to calm herself from the revelations of today. Eobard strolled into the living room with a whistle, kissing the top of your head before seating himself next to you. His eyes darkened at the picture in your lap.

You swallowed thickly, looking ahead as the soft sounds of laughter from the kitchen leaks out, “Eo, what exactly happens when you kill Barry?”

“…”

You maneuvered your head to meet his eyes. The yellow speedster ran his fingers over his lips. “Well?”

“My powers cease to exist,” Eobard cleared his throat, shifting his gaze away for a moment, “I never become the Reverse Flash.” Your heart dropped to the pit of your stomach. Your mind screamed at you as realization hit you like a bucket of cold water. The genius speedster saw the wildness in your eyes. No no no no no! Not again. Not again. Not again.

“You never run back in time… Thaddeus and Jackson would never come to be.”

“Jackson would still exist even if I’m out of the picture.”

“No, he wouldn’t, Eobard.” Your heart rate was spiking, your mind was hurting, your blood pumping. “Because you’re the reason a singularity had formed in Central City. That singularity opened the gates to the multiverse from our Earth.” That’s how Harry was able to come to this Earth. You downed your alcohol then sat up straighter to look at him.

“…” Eobard took your free hand and gripped it tightly. “My intention isn’t to kill Barry anymore. It once was, yes. Years ago, when I first plotted, getting marooned here before the particle accelerator exploded. But then I realized it wouldn’t mean anything if I did?”

“What do you mean?”

“Hypothetically, yes, I would have won and ended things in my favor. But my memories currently to this point would cease to exist when Barry’s death would catch up to a younger version of myself in the future.”

“There would have been no Flash to drive you to this point.”

Eobard nodded, “And I would have never met you.”

“… So, what will you do?”

“I intend to beat him at every confrontation until Time decides that the last page has turned for the both of us.”

A finger circled the lining of the glass nervously. “And Harry?”

“I have a couple of theories in mind.”

“I’m not going to like them, am I?”

“Highly unlikely…”

[kyun-toast]

[ATEEZ] Mafia!Hongjoong - Fateful

word count: 2.2k warnings: explicit language, gun use, death, mentions of alcohol summary: a feisty baby for a feisty scorpio a/n: I started writing this so loyal to mafia!ateez but now that I’ve watched kingdom, I’ve changed my mind - I wanna be a pirate hoe.

“You forgot your toothbrush.” You said, sat by the desk, arms crossed. “Good thing I didn’t finish unpacking right, you can take your shit just the way it came in the boxes, hmm?” You didn’t get angry very often due to the pure fact that your expectations for your boyfriend were so low at this point. The way that your words, let alone your face, held no emotion terrified the boy. He shuffled around your apartment, gathering his things with eyes to the ground in guilt.

“Can you hurry up? I have places to be.” You said, fingers massaging your temple.

Stopping in his tracks, the boy turned to you with pleading eyes for the nth time today, “Baby, I’m so sorry, please, I didn’t mean to hurt you like tha-”

“I’m sorry, what? You disrespected me, not hurt me, there’s a difference-”

“Why are you doing this to me? You know I love you.” He pleaded.

“Is that a serious question right now? You cheated with my assistant in your first week as intern at my firm, then tried and miserably failed to gaslight and manipulate me into believing your lies which I find pretty bold considering that I’m literally a lawyer. I respect the attempt though.”

“Baby, it was an acci-”

“No, shut up, I’m not done speaking. And you did this while I bought out this apartment for you because I felt bad for your sorry ass having to live with your dumb friends. I had to spoon feed you through law school and now through life too? You should be grateful that I’m letting you leave with all your things considering I bought them all too.”

He stood there with his hands gathered, staring back at the floor again.

“What. You got nothing to say? I thought so. You gonna leave now or what?” You questioned. He took his boxes, feet dragging across the floor to the door. You rolled your eyes as you closed the door on him. Before needing to look for a new intern and a new assistant, you needed a drink more than anything.

-

It was a regular Friday evening at the bar for Hongjoong and the boys. In celebration of Ateez’s successful expansion of their ‘business ventures’, Hongjoong had decided to spend the rest of the day at their usual spot. Despite having been set up for the sole purpose of laundering their dirty money, Bar 1117 was doing ironically well. Due to the nightlife business booming, Hongjoong had gained another alibi to keep him under the radar and he couldn’t be more comfortable with where his life was at.

“No, I reckon it’s Yeosang” San said, bringing the glass of whisky to his lips.

“I back that, he’s not got the emotional capacity for it.” Woo agreed, laughing.

“Yeah, just because I don’t take any of your shit doesn’t mean I’ll do the same to my wife. I bet Mingi. He’s definitely getting married last.” Yeo rebutted.

“What wh-”

Before Mingi could finish, Seonghwa cut through, “Considering our line of work, no one’s gonna be getting married any time soon. Right Joong?”

Turning to the leader of the boys, Seonghwa saw that Hongjoong had his head turned away from the conversation, eyes scanning up and down a figure at the bar. Hongjoong was never a man to be distracted by anything or anyone, always focused on his business so it was a rare occurrence for him to be looking so intently at a person. The boys catching onto this, they followed his gaze to a man sat so close to the lucky person’s face, his facial expressions showing his desperation for a way to break down their walls.

“This might be interesting…” Wooyoung smirked.

-

“I genuinely couldn’t care less.” You said, head cocked to the side in your hand, staring dead straight into the man’s eyes. However, the man had no intention of ever stopping his speech as he sat next to you at the bar.

“Come on, you really don’t know my father? He was in today’s paper?” He carried on as you zoned out of the conversation and occasionally cringed at the man’s stale breath, wondering how many more men were going to be responsible for the deepening wrinkles between your brows. As you took a sip from your drink, you locked eyes with a blonde-haired man across the room. His features were delicate yet sharp like the thorn of a rose, or a shard of glass, eyes twinkling with mischief. He raised his glass at you and smirked, amused by the situation that you were in.

“Listen here, bitch-” The man grabbed your wrist, forcing your attention back to him, “You’re gonna take the drinks I buy you, listen when I speak and sit pretty like a woman is supposed to.” He spat.

“Grrrr, scary.” You crudely imitated the growl in the man’s voice, still uninterested, “What a man your mother raised. I bet she’s proud, hmm?”

Anger radiating from the man’s body, he grabbed the glass out of your hand and threw it at the wall behind you, missing your face by inches.

“Oh, so now you’re going to scare me into sleeping with you? You need to brush up on some people skills.” You laughed, throwing you head back. You only composed yourself to grab the man’s collar, causing him to stumble off his stool. “You want to throw another glass at me? Try it.”

You hadn’t noticed the blonde-haired man stroll up to your table seeing that you were so caught up in the situation.

“Hi, I’m Hongjoong. How’s your night going? Anything I can help you with?” He asked, rubbing his hands together, surprisingly composed despite the mess. You let go of the man as the name triggered something in your head, remembering it being mentioned a few times behind closed-door meetings with your father.

“Are all the whores around here like this? I came here for some fun and this is how I’m treated? Fuck this place and every one of you here.” The man started at Hongjoong. You sat there, curling your fists ready to punch the man this time but Hongjoong noticed and interjected.

He placed his hands on the ledge of the table, leaning forward to obstruct the space between you and the man. As he did, you noticed the glimpse of a gun hanging from inside his fitted jacket, the slick shine of the metal winking at you in the light.

“I’d rather die than come to this shithole again.” The man carried on and you noticed the mischievous glint that was once in Hongjoong’s eyes finally fade to black.

“Oh, sure thing, I don’t think I want to see you here again anyway.” Hongjoong muttered and what happened in the next few seconds flew by so fast it barely registered in your brain.

The blonde-haired man reached into his jacket to pull the handgun out and shoot the man clean between the brows. At the same time, you pointed the small pistol you always kept concealed on your body at Hongjoong in reflex, having been taught to react to the sound of gunmetal in this way since you were a child.

Once you realised that the bullet wasn’t intended for you, you sensed seven pairs of eyes trained on you. Out of the corner of your vision, you saw that the boys once sat at Hongjoong’s table were all stood up, half of their guns out pointed to the man, and the other half at you, the next possible threat to their leader.

It was then that you realised that this man was the leader of Ateez, Seoul’s biggest underground organization responsible for the running of the city. It may have been politicians and businessmen in the spotlight, but behind the curtains, it was Ateez pulling at their puppet strings.

“Easy with that, angel.” Hongjoong turned to you smiling and raised a hand at the boys to lower their weapons. He continued chuckling, “I felt like you might have an attitude, but I didn’t expect this from you.”

As if it were a regular occurrence, two barmen came round to dispose of the body and your eyes followed, gun still pointing at the blonde man. Using the tip of his fingers, he gently lowered your gun to point at the floor.

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” he said, “I know some people that can sort that out.”

“Yeah those people are my paralegals paying off police in their missing persons hunts and forging their death certificates.”

Everything had fallen into place for you in that brief encounter. You knew that your father and his firm were involved in some dark business, but you never questioned it. Respecting your father’s wishes in telling you that keeping you in the dark was keeping you safe, you let it go.

However, it was only a few years ago that he had begun to tell you about his private dealings as consigliere to the organisation Ateez. That recently, his age-old friend had stepped down as mob boss and handed everything down to his son. Chuckling at how much he saw the image of his friend in the young blood, he mentioned that you would be in a similar position, that you too would be handed the law firm and become consigliere by tradition.

You had always expected to take up this mantle since you were young, as you figured that the men coming to your house for private meetings while you played in the garden did not treat you with unparalleled respect for no reason. You just didn’t realise that it would mean for you to be so heavily tied with the illicit world of the mafia then.

From then on, you trained close by your father’s side, learning the ins and outs of the world of jurisdiction, though you were never exposed directly to the ongoings with the mafia as your father had said, “the time will come when it needs to.”

“Then I guess today is the day.” You whispered to yourself smiling, you held your hand out to Hongjoong. “I’m Y/N L/N, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you, my father has always spoken very highly of you.”

Confused at first, a spark was ignited in Hongjoong as the shine returned to his eyes, and the amused smirk to his lips, your name triggering something in him. Realising that you were the daughter to one of the men he most respected in his life, he took your hand and brought it to his face to kiss gently, “And it’s a pleasure to meet you too, I’ve heard a great deal about you as well, but who knew my future right-hand man would be so hot.” He said as he flashed a sly smile.

The more he observed, the flames within Hongjoong only grew as he could sense the fire in you too. The most beautiful person he had ever set eyes on was to be his consigliere? Couldn’t be any more perfect. He wondered what more you could achieve together and pictured only pure wildfire.

“You better watch your mouth Mr. Kim, unless you want to start a war between the family before I even take up my position.”

“Of course, I have nothing but respect for you and your father. I was told that I wouldn’t be meeting you until he was to step down from his position, but I guess my lucky stars have aligned perfectly tonight.”

“Also, I’m more than capable of dealing with these things myself, there was no need for you to play knight in shining armour.”

“Sure, holed up in your guarded palace of a law firm, you’ve never had experience in the real world. Things are different here and what happened at this bar is just the cusp of it, princess.” He rebutted voice dripping honey, flirting his way through the conversation.

“But who is it advising your every action and saving your asses in the courtrooms, hmm?”

You and Hongjoong continued to jab at each other while the boys sat back in disbelief at the situation. Common people would have run the other way as soon as a gun was shot in their vicinity. So for you to have pulled one out in retaliation and furthering that, started arguing with their Captain, it was a sight to see.

“Bets on who’s going to win this one?” Yunho broke the silence.

“I’m betting tonight’s drinks on the lady.” Mingi said, throwing his black card onto the table.

“Me too, Hongjoong hyung looks too smitten for pride games right now.” Jongho agreed.

“Looks like we’ve got our first to tie the knot then.” San chuckled, nudging at Wooyoung who replied, “Hmmm, she doesn’t look like the typical housewife type though.” Analysing the unmatched confidence exuding from your body language.

Soon after, Hongjoong led you to the table of boys, pulling a chair out for you.

“Guys, this is Y/N L/N, future consigliere to Ateez, and not to mention, my future wife.” He smirked, eyes glowing.

“Carry on and I’ll be future Captain by regicide, Hongjoong,” you shot him a glare as you took your seat, “considering our fateful encounter, it looks like I’ll be seeing you more often with my father now, I hope we can get along.”

You poured yourself a glass of whisky and smiled while Hongjoong could already sense the eventful days ahead with none other than you by his side. -

Mafia AU Masterlist

[fanmoose12]

catch me if you can

Сharacters: Hange Zoe, Levi, Erwin Smith, Kenny Ackerman

Genres: Mystery / Romance

Summary: The Ackerman duo. Just the mention of this name filled Hange with so many feelings. Mostly, when she reread the files of their cases over and over, until her eyes watered, she felt pricking annoyance. Sometimes, when she stared at the dead bodies of those scarce unfortunates who stumbled upon their crimes, she was filled with hatred and a pushing need for revenge. Hange couldn’t deny, however, there were times when she marveled at the impudence of their crimes. And, when she was investigating the Ackerman’s cases and saw just how meticulously planned they all were, she couldn’t help but feel something close to fascination.No one knew who they were. No one had seen their faces, no one knew their true names. Almost everyone knew of their crimes.Hange was determined to unravel every last one of their secrets. She will put an end to their crimes and then she will get the elusive Ackermans behind bars.

Chapter 8/?

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Hange hated it.

She hated it all – the today’s cold early morning, the yesterday’s long, sleepless night, the shitty, overpriced coffee from the airport cafe. She hated the weather that was too cold not to wear a coat and a scarf, but now made her sweat in all the layers of clothing. She hated the uncomfortable chair she was sitting at, hated waiting for so long just to see the needed flight appear on screen. She hated her new case and the sense of urgency it brought along. She hated that she had to work with him to find that missing young girl.

And more than all of that, she hated that sleazy bastard, that Ackerman.

She hated that morning in the hospital, when she found a note and recognized that it was written by the same hand that used to mock her every failure. Everything clicked right there and then, and Hange hated that she felt sad about it. Not angry, not betrayed, but sad. She was hurt, she was miserable, so much so that she actually shed a few tears, feeling like she lost someone she never actually had.

She should have known better, should have not let that happen. She shouldn’t have trusted him, not after just a couple of dates, after a few silly jokes and endearing gestures. But Ackerman, that damned thief, managed to sneak through all of her defenses, he made her think that there was something there, some connection between them. Perhaps, even something special.

Then everything turned out to be a lie, and it left her broken, wondering what she did wrong, when did she become so naive. She threw herself into her work, finding a short respite in it. For long two months that seemed more like a few days, she almost felt at piece, almost managed to convince herself – and everyone else – that she ceased thinking about Ackermans, their case and the man who might or might not even be called Levi. And now she had to work with him.

Hange hated her job sometimes.

She also hated her heart most of the time, especially right now, when it squeezed painfully at the sight of Ackerman’s dark, sullen and so unfairly handsome face.

Despite the large crowd and long corridor that separated them, their eyes still met each other.

Her treacherous heart skipped another beat.

Hange gripped the paper coffee cup as tight as it allowed, forcing herself to school her expression in something more appropriate – cold, detached. Not so heartbroken.

At least, Ackerman had the decency to look ashamed. He lowered his gaze as soon as he saw her, and it gave Hange the time to look over his entire form.

He changed. Ever so slightly, but still noticeable enough for Hange’s keen eyes.

He was more tanned now, not nearly as sickly pale as he was before. The circles under his eyes didn’t disappear though, and so didn’t his stiff posture. There was another change, however - a small cut on his left cheek. It sparked a quick flash of anger for the person responsible. Hange hated herself for that, too.

She shouldn’t care about that, shouldn’t wonder about the person who hurt Levi, shouldn’t wish to hurt them back. These feelings, they irritated Hange. Unfortunately, she couldn’t make them disappear.

“It’s just you here?” Ackerman approached her slowly, his hand gripping the strap of his travelling bag just as tightly as Hange held her coffee cup. She stood up too, straightening to her full height. Ackerman stopped, just a few steps away from her. “I thought you would bring the entire police department to arrest me.”

Hange scoffed, rolling her eyes. “You’re not that important.”

And there was also that tiny little thing about her not actually having the power to arrest him. Technically, the Ackermans’ case was closed. Technically, Hange had no definitive piece of evidence that she could have used to lock him up.

Technically, Ackerman wasn’t even supposed to be here. And neither was she.

Back at the precinct, no one actually knew about that venture of hers. And they wouldn’t find out about it, not if Hange did everything right.

There were lots of reasons why Hange had to keep Ackerman’s involvement a secret. There was this thing about him being a notorious criminal who escaped justice, but more importantly, there was this little thing about her going on a date with the said criminal. Hange knew that Erwin knew about Levi and his true identity, he never told her that specifically, but when Hange demanded to take her off Ackerman’s case, he didn’t even bat an eye. He also didn’t ask a single question. The absence of his reaction made her wonder just how much he actually knew, and for how long he had that knowledge. Had he known since the beginning? Had he kept quiet just to see where it would lead? And whether she would realize the truth or not?

Hange didn’t have the guts to ask Erwin about that directly, didn’t wish to open that can of worms right now, preferred that it would stay closed for good. They both ignored that mistake of hers, both didn’t dare to bring up Levi or her previous case. And Hange would have liked for it to stay this way forever.

But if Erwin found out that Hange made Ackerman come out of hiding, so he would help her to find the missing Krista Lenz, well… Erwin probably wouldn’t chew her head off, but he definitely would give her a strict, and extremely long verbal reprimanding.

And he would take her off the case, and that… well, Hange already had a case she failed at spectacularly, she didn’t wish for that to become a pattern.

She also wished to find Krista Lenz and save her from whatever peril she found herself in. Hange didn’t know her, had only seen the photos, but that bright smile and those kind blue eyes kept pushing her forward, gave her a reason to not just solve the case, but bring that girl home.

And if she had to work with the damned Ackerman to achieve it, so be it.

“We have a lot of work ahead of us,” she promptly turned away from him, starting a brisk pace and heading to the exit of the airport. She hoped the Ackerman would follow. He did, surprisingly obedient. “Let’s eat before we start.”

***

The diner was nice.

Small but cozy, the interior was made up entirely of combination of blue and white. The tables were clean and adorned with neat, soft tablecloth, the booth he was sitting at was spacious and comfortable, the food was delicious and tea was made just as he liked it, even the music didn’t bother him, a pleasant, quiet melody was playing, adding to the atmosphere.

The diner was nice. His company, however, was not. Levi never thought that someone could eat breakfast so angrily. But every time his and Hange’s gazes met, he was quick to look away, her icy cold stare practically boring into his soul.

Thankfully, while Hange was busy devouring her omelet, she didn’t glance at him even once. She had mentioned that she was starving, and, knowing her work etiquette and seeing that her cheekbones became slightly more pronounced, Levi was inclined to think that her backhanded remark wasn’t just a figure of speech.

Watching her eat made Levi wonder what would happen if he ordered her a desert. Would Hange punch him or simply annihilate him with her glare?

Honestly, Levi was surprised she hadn’t punched him the moment she had seen him in the airport. He was also immensely surprised that he was having breakfast in a diner and not on his way to the prison.

During the phone call, Hange said that she wasn’t going to arrest him, but still, he would have liked to ask more about it. However, breaching that subject with Hange looking so furious didn’t seem like a great idea. He was walking on a thin ice as it was.

But even so, the tense silence was swiftly becoming unbearable, and Levi raked his brain for a topic of conversation, something safe and unassuming, the kind of talk that wouldn’t earn him a kick to his face.

“So how did you find me?”

Not the best way to start, Levi realized that as soon as the question tumbled out of his mouth. He cringed, thinking if he should just take his words back. But it was already too late.

Hange put the fork down and looked at him. With her eyebrows furrowed like that, she looked too much like her Captain, that annoying Erwin Smith. She wasn’t nearly as annoying, though. And, in Levi’s humble opinion, she was much handsomer than her mentor.

“It wasn’t that hard,” Hange said, as she wiped her mouth with a napkin. Some gravy remained at the side of her lips, but Levi wasn’t sure if he should point that out. He would have liked to wipe it out himself, he remembered doing exactly that during one of their dates, which felt like it had happened a lifetime ago. He would have liked to repeat that simple gesture. Then again, Hange probably wouldn’t have liked if he did that. “I guessed that you left the city on the night when…” something in her expression shifted, her face became less guarded. But Hange blinked and it was gone, the same stone mask returning. She cleared her throat and continued, “when we spoke for the last time. Since I knew when you left, it was only a matter of looking at the camera recording from the airport and finding which flight you took. Then I requested some security viewings from the city you were hiding at, and… here you are.”

Hange made it sound so simple, Levi almost believed that it actually was. Her exhausted face told another story, though. Levi could only imagine how long it took her to find him. She must be at her wit’s end, if she went through all of this just to get his help.

“What do you need me for then?”

Hange reached to her bag, opening and rummaging through it. When she was finished, she took out the case file and handed it to him.

“This is Krista Lenz, a college student who had disappeared a week ago,” Levi opened the case file, young blonde girl with impossibly bright eyes stared at him from the first page. “Do you recognize her?”

Levi looked at the photo for another second, just to be sure. But the girl on the photo stirred nothing in him. No vague memory, no sort of recollection. The name didn’t sound familiar, and if he had ever met the girl, it could only be in passing, as both of them, perhaps, walked beside each other on the same sidewalk. But that was the extent of it. Whoever this girl was, Levi did not know her.

He said the very thing to Hange, as he closed and pushed the case file back to her.

Hange pushed it back to him. “Well, too bad that you don’t know her. Because your uncle is the one who kidnapped her.”

Levi was very grateful for his extreme talent at keeping his face straight, because mentally his jaw was somewhere near the fucking floor. Externally, however, he didn’t let a single muscle on his face twitch.

With more self-restraint that he thought was capable of, he lifted an eyebrow, and asked, “I beg your pardon?”

“You’ve heard me,” Hange opened the case file for him and flicked through a couple of pages. “We searched Krista’s room and found a few letters, written by some Kenny the Reaper. Sounds familiar to you?”

More familiar than Hange thought. Of course, Levi knew Kenny the Reaper, back when he was a brat, his uncle used to tell tales of the Reaper, scary, blood-curling stories about the tall man in a long dusty black coat, who lived across the tracks. Kenny said the man’s hands were constantly covered in red and he always smelled of metal and copper. Kenny said the Reaper would come and take him, if Levi continued acting like a pathetic, whiny brat. Stories about the Reaper used to terrify the shit out of him, especially during the nights, when Kenny turned off the lights and storm was raging outside.

After his mother died, and Levi was spending his days in bed, crying himself to sleep, the stories about Kenny the Reaper reached their peak.

Kenny the Reaper would whisk you away at night if you don’t eat the soup, Kenny the Reaper would stand above your bed during the night if you don’t go to sleep, Kenny the Reaper would bath you in your own blood, if you don’t change your dirty clothes, Kenny the Reaper would come and eat your heart in front of you, if you don’t stop crying.

During those horrible, grief-filled days, only the fear of Kenny the Reaper was able to stop Levi from wallowing in his own misery.

Kenny wasn’t the best parent, wasn’t truly made for it, but, surprisingly, some of his methods, as cruel as they were, actually worked on Levi.

But he stopped with the silly stories once Levi became a teenager and they ceased having an effect on him.

Then why did Kenny the Reaper return? Why did he write letters to a young girl, who had disappeared? Could it really be that his uncle was the culprit?

Levi looked down at the case file, where a picture of the Reaper’s note was attached. All doubts disappeared from his mind. It was Kenny’s handwriting, the same messy, barely incomprehensible scribblings. But how did they appear inside the missing girl’s room? And why did Kenny write them in the first place?

He looked at note more closely, squinting to read it.

I have something you might want to look at it, little Missy. Come to the tracks tonight, or Kenny the Ripper will take you away by force.

Levi stared at the note for another moment, struggling to comprehend. It looked like… utter gibberish.

“So?” Hange lifted the cup to her lips, watching him over its rim. “Was my hunch correct? Is it really your uncle’s doing?”

It was just a hunch, but Hange had him located and brought back into the city simply to check if she was right? Either she was that confident in her theory, or… she was that desperate.

“It’s his handwriting,” he told her. “This note was definitely written by him.”

But did Kenny kidnap some girl? Levi didn’t know if that was possible. Why would his uncle even do that? What shitty trouble was he involved in this time? What was going on in the city during the two months that he was away? What Kenny was up to during that time? What was he up to right now?

It seemed like Levi certainly had missed a lot. He had to catch up to it all, and quickly. Perhaps, Hange would be able to help him.

“I don’t think Kenny had taken that girl,” Levi wasn’t sure if his uncle was even capable of that. Sure, he did some nasty things, but always for a reason. And what possible reason could he have to kidnap a young girl? “Did you receive a ransom after her disappearance?”

“No. There is utter silence after Krista went missing. I thought about your uncle only because I’ve remembered you mentioning that his name was Kenny. Decided this theory was worth pursuing.”

Levi didn’t even know he said it, but Hange remembered it? This small detail probably shouldn’t have made him feel so warm inside.

She’s a detective, it’s her job to pick up and remember stuff, he told himself. His heart refused to listen.

“I’m willing to help you find him,” he said to Hange, shaking his head to get rid of useless thoughts. He had a more pressing matter right now. For example, why the fuck his uncle decided to kidnap someone. Finding an answer to this question was his priority. Levi just had to remember that.

“Oh,” Hange waved her hand dismissively. “You don’t really have a choice in that. I need you to help me, Ackerman. And since your apartment was abandoned a little over a week ago, just as Krista went missing, I think it’s a good place to start our investigation.”

Hange knew where his apartment was located? This was hardly surprising, considering that she managed to find him in another city, but still… Her detective skills were brilliant.

Hange waved over the waitress, asking for a bill. As soon as she paid, she stood up. Levi quickly followed her suit.

“My apartment is on the other side of town,” he began, as he fell into step with Hange. “Aren’t you afraid I’m going to escape?”

“Want me to handcuff you, Ackerman? Didn’t know you were so kinky,” surprisingly, Hange grinned. But the merry expression didn’t stay for long. The serious detective face returned almost immediately. “If you really think about escaping, my advice to you – don’t. I found you in another city on the other side of the world. How long do you think it would take me to find you here?”

Well, point was certainly taken. No more jokes and attempts at flirting. Hange was definitely not in the mood for this. Levi would have liked to blame it on her case, but he wasn’t that naïve and he was never that good at fooling himself. Hange hated him now, and there was nothing surprising about it. He knew it was going to come to this. He thought he was prepared.

But the bitter taste in his mouth, the giant, crushing weight in his chest – that he wasn’t ready for.

“It’ll be easier to get to my apartment by the subway,” he said, swallowing down the lump in his throat. “Come on, I’ll lead the way.”

He wanted Hange to throw some stupid joke or a lame one-liner, say at least something. Instead, she followed after him without a single word.

Levi's disappointment was unmeasurable.

***

Hange didn’t know how exactly she pictured the apartment of two notorious thieves to look like, but she certainly didn’t expect the Ackermans’ den to look so… normal.

No secret traps, no hidden treasures, no weaponry hanging on the wall, there was nothing that could even hint at the possibility that the two men that were living there were criminals.

The apartment was relatively small, with only two bedrooms and a kitchen. It also wasn’t as spartan as Hange would have imagined it to be. There were pictures – but not photos – hanging on the walls, house plants that stood on windowsills, a bookshelf filled with books, curtains that fluttered from the wind coming from the open windows.

All of it was so mundane and cozy… Hange didn’t quite know what to make of it.

However, she had to admit, she was not only surprised, but a little disappointed too. She didn’t know what to expect from Ackermans’ apartment, but she had her ideas of what Levi’s apartment would look like. She pictured a neat, pristine place with spotless floors and shining cutlery.

But in reality, the sink was overflowing with dirty dishes, the kitchen was filled with empty pizza boxes and bottles of beer, clothes were lying in the piles on the floor, dust was flying in the air.

Did the great clean freak Levi really live there? Or was that side of Levi’s persona just another lie?

“Fucking Kenny,” Ackerman mumbled under his breath, his scowl as fierce as ever. “I was gone for two months and he already turned into a pig.”

Oh. So that wasn’t part of an act? Hange was actually relieved to hear it. Enough to chuckle and say, “The obsession with cleanliness doesn’t run in the family?”

Ackerman turned from glaring at the dark stain on the kitchen table to look at her. His mouth twitched, as their eyes met. “Kenny is just a horrible exception.”

And there it was. For no longer than a single moment, but something had ignited, some sort of connection, recognition deep within her, the feeling of belonging. It was the same feeling she had whenever she was with Levi before.

But it wasn’t Levi, she reminded herself strictly. It wasn’t Levi, the awkward, endearing man she stumbled upon one evening. It was Ackerman, a thief who consciously played with her feelings, who lied to her and fooled her into believing he was someone else.

But Hange knew who he was now. She wouldn’t let him fool her anymore.

She looked away from him, her expression turning sourer. Possibly sensing her foul mood, Ackerman turned away too, his frown deepening.

“What exactly you expect to find here?” he asked. “I thought you guys had already searched our house.”

“No. I didn’t want to bother with getting a search warrant.”

She didn’t want to, and she couldn’t. If she came to Erwin, asking for a search warrant for the Ackermans’ apartment, because she suspected that one of Ackermans was involved in her new case, Erwin would call off the case right that instant. He’d say that she was too emotionally compromised, that she couldn’t think straight and had an unhealthy obsession with Ackermans’ case.

Erwin wouldn’t have listened to her theory, wouldn’t have let her continue working. And Hange couldn’t let go of this case, couldn't allow someone from Nile’s team to start searching for the missing Krista Lenz. After all, there was a reason why Erwin gave that case specifically to her. She was driven, endlessly dedicated to her work, Erwin knew she wouldn’t stop before Krista Lenz was found and safely returned to her old life.

And Hange couldn’t let Krista’s safety be compromised, because of some search warrant she didn’t even need. She came here with the owner of the apartment, right? Technically, she got inside without breaking any laws. Except she was working with a criminal, but then again, no one could prove that Ackerman was a criminal. Hange would have to work on that after she brought Krista home.

“So what is it that you hope to find here?” Ackerman repeated his question. “I doubt your missing girl is hidden inside my closet.”

Hange rolled her eyes at the obvious sarcasm. Ackerman didn’t believe her, but she didn’t really need him to. He could believe that his uncle was innocent, that it was some big misunderstanding or whatever lie he created for himself. She didn’t need Ackerman to share her suspicions, she just needed him to help her find Kenny Ackerman.

That was the primary and only reason for his involvement.

“Let’s start with his room then,” Hange said. “Even if Krista isn’t there, perhaps, we’ll be able to find something of use anyway.”

“Well, you’re the boss here,” Ackerman scoffed.

With hands shoved deep into his pockets, Ackerman led her out of the kitchen and into a short hallway. As they walked, they passed a room that had a slightly ajar door. Curious, Hange popped her head inside. In contrast to the rest of the house, that room was tidy. It didn’t take a detective to realize that it was Levi’s room. On a wardrobe beside the bed, there was a blue shirt hanging. Hange recognize it as the same shirt Levi wore to their so-called first date. The shirt was nice, she remembered thinking that it brought Levi’s eyes.

Hange wanted to rip it into pieces.

She kicked the door closed with her foot, ignoring Ackerman’s wide-eyed stare. “Let’s just get it over with,” she grumbled, beyond frustrated.

Thankfully, Ackerman didn’t comment and silently led her to his uncle’s room.

Inside, it was even messier than in the rest of the apartment. Papers were scattered around, empty glasses and plates were littering the floor, the bed was unmade, the blanket and pillow missing from it. The state of the room was even worse than the mess inside Hange’s apartment, even during her bad days. It was dark too, the heavy brown curtains blocking the sunlight from outside entirely.

Honestly, it looked a little too creepy for Hange’s taste. Like the room of a madman. A madman who had kidnapped a young girl. A madman, who without hesitation had killed an innocent man and had almost killed her. Hange felt a shiver ran through her spine at that thought.

“Are you sure that your guys didn’t search the house?” Ackerman’s gruff voice brought her to the present.

“You think that someone broke in?”

“Possibly,” Ackerman nodded. “Either someone broke in, or Kenny just lost his mind.”

“And which one is more probable?”

Ackerman shrugged. “I’d say fifty-fifty.”

“Cool,” she rubbed her temples, feeling a migraine coming. “Amazing. Just awesome.” So she wasn’t only looking for a cruel criminal, but apparently he could be crazy as well. And she thought this case couldn’t get any worse. “Let’s start looking for clues then. Before your uncle arrives and decapitates me or something.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Ackerman chided. “He won’t decapitate you. Just slash your throat.”

His dry delivery and his deadpan face made it hard for Hange to understand whether he was joking or not. She hoped he was. She liked her throat, and didn’t want it to be slashed.

“I’ll take the left part of the room,” she announced to Ackerman, immediately getting to work. The sooner they finish here, the lesser were chances of having her throat slashed. Probably.

As Hange kneeled on the floor, looking through papers scattered there, she couldn’t help but look around the room. And as she took a good look at it, she couldn’t help but wonder…

“Why are you doing this?” she asked Ackerman.

He threw her a dark look. “By this you mean…”

“Why do you keep doing this?” she gestured around, “Stealing things, being criminals. You have enough as it is. Why not start doing honest work?”

“We’re stealing from rich assholes. You can hardly call it a crime.”

“Oh, I get it now,” Hange rolled her eyes. “Once a thief forever a thief, right?”

“I wouldn’t expect you to understand,” Ackerman said curtly.

“And why not? Because I’m a cop?”

“Because you’re a cop, dressed in a coat that no cop should be able to afford.”

Affronted, Hange scowled at him. “And what is that supposed to mean?”

“That you grew up rich. That you don’t know what poverty or need is. That you have no idea that sometimes,” his eyes flashed, a deep-seated anger coming to surface. Hange wondered if all of it was directed on her alone. “Honest work isn’t enough.”

Logically, Hange knew it was her cue to back away. But she was riled up already, she was exhausted and frustrated. She was also annoyed that Ackerman had figured her out so easily. So instead of shutting up like she should have to, she kept challenging him. “And when exactly honest work isn’t enough?”

“When your mother dies because you can’t pay her medical bills.”

Ackerman spoke quietly, calmly. His tone wasn’t angry or accusing. He didn’t even sound hurt. But Hange felt like the most disgusting piece of shit. Shame cursed through her, as she struggled to find her words, to apologize or— do something rathan than stare helplessly at him.

“Let’s get back to work,” he said, ending the heavy silence.

Hange nodded numbly, scooping a bunch of papers in her hands. She briefly glanced at them, but nothing seemed to hold any importance. There were some bills, checks, half-finished plans, written so messily Hange could barely decipher most of the words. There was nothing that could link Kenny Ackerman to the disappearance of Krista Lenz. Still, Hange persisted, forcing her thoughts to focus on the case, and not on the argument that had transpired moments ago.

It seemed stupid, ridiculous, she was so angry with Ackerman, but now she felt ashamed of her careless words. She was ashamed of being so naïve, so privileged. She knew she was lucky, luckier than most to be born in a wealthy family and have access to everything she needed or wanted. Not everyone was as fortunate as her, and some of people ended up just as Ackermans – driven to the life of crime by poverty and desperation. After all, most of the criminals didn’t choose this way of living, but Hange had forgotten about that. She let her single-minded determination cloud her perception and abandon her principals and initial reason for joining the force.

So fixed on catching criminals, she had forgotten that she wanted to help people, including those, who were lost or didn’t know better.

Hange felt the need to apologize to Ackerman. He was an asshole in his own right, but her cruelty and prejudice was uncalled for. She was better than this. At least, she hoped so.

So lost in her own thoughts, Hange missed the moment when Ackerman had moved from his kneeling position on the floor. Now he stood next to a long desk, gazing at it skeptically.

“If there is something worthy in this pile of shit, it’s gotta be here,” he explained to the confused Hange.

Still sitting on a floor, she watched how Ackerman opened the lowest drawer of the desk, throwing everything that was inside on the floor. More papers fell out. Once the drawer was empty, Ackerman pressed on something inside and revealed a hidden bottom drawer.

A secret compartment! Hange jumped to his side.

He was already shifting through the documents he found inside, his face as bored as ever. “Shit, I think there is nothing important her—”

“Wait!” Hange yelled, yanking a photo from between his fingers. Her eyes wide and mouth open, she stared at it. She knew that face, that face was staring accusingly at her for a whole week now, pushing Hange to find its owner. Linked to that photo was a birth certificate, and it bewildered Hange even more.

“What is it?” Ackerman rose on tiptoes, looking over her shoulder. “Did you find something?”

“I guess I did,” Hange slowly nodded, her eyes still glued to the photo and the document. “It appears we’ve been wrong. We aren’t looking for Krista Lenz. We’re searching for Historia.”

[theimprobabledreamersworld]

I just about managed to get this little story written for Loceit Week! :D I enjoyed writing it, and I can't wait to write more for the rest of the week! This is for the prompt 'Hobbies' and it's a pre-romantic/confessed feelings for the pairing :)

Anyways, it was a little rushed, but I hope you enjoy it! <3

@loceitweek2021

Writing taglist: @psychedelicships @jwillowwolf @red-imeanblue @lost-in-thought-20 @the-duke-of-nuts @writerwithtoomanyships

Read on Ao3!

Crossword Confessions

Logan Sanders and Janus Sanders

Janus loved peace and quiet. His favourite hobby was to read his classic novels, but if he wanted to explore every page and embrace every word, he could only read in the company of one person. He had to constantly explain the story to Patton who would try to read over his shoulder, then he would always have to practically run away from Remus because he would try to either draw pretty… rude drawings on the pages; or rip the pages out completely. Thankfully, Roman and Virgil didn’t care enough about classic novels to bother him so at least there was that bonus.

Logan was quite literally his savior; his hobby was another silent type. Janus always smiled when he saw Logan coming to join him with the newspaper in hand. Logan was the smartest man Janus knew, and their debates over literature and philosophy was enough to make his heart pound and his head spin. So the fact that he was invested in crossword puzzles wasn’t a surprise to Janus. The sound of the pen scratching on the paper was surprisingly comforting, and Janus always knew when Logan was stuck on a clue. He laughed every time because when Janus asked if he could help, Logan would stubbornly insist that he could work it out on his own… before shuffling closer to him and placing the newspaper delicately on top of his book, silently asking for his help. The thing that Janus loved the most though was that Logan wouldn’t move away after they had worked through a clue together. In fact, they ended up sitting even closer together and Logan would take to leaning on Janus’ shoulder long after the crossword was finished. Janus happily rested his head on top of Logan’s and slowly moved the book so it was in the middle of them, and he could feel Logan’s eyes steadily reading the pages with him.

He tried to lie to himself, he didn’t have feelings for Logan… no. Absolutely not, what a ludicrous idea! He laughed to himself as he ironically got to the heartfelt confession scene in the book. So, Logan makes him smile, he makes him laugh, he makes him think more in depth about literature and philosophy, and he’s the one person who always makes time for Janus no matter how busy he is. Never mind the fact that he is the most talented, smartest and stunning guy he has ever met. So yes, no feelings at all.

Janus sighed and slammed the book on the coffee table… great. Now he couldn’t focus on his book, Logan had taken over his mind. To top it off, Logan had just walked into the room looking to see if Janus was there. He was holding his newspaper and smiled as he saw that Janus was sitting at the table with his book, he walked over and Janus’ heart skipped a beat. He couldn’t help but smile when he sat down much closer than usual.

“Well, well, well. Is there something I can help you with?” He smirked as he saw Logan smile and look down, staring at the crossword intently.

“… Yes, you can. I hate to admit it, but I can’t solve this clue… I’ve been trying for half an hour, and it’s starting to annoy me.” He had a neutral facial expression, but the tone of his voice showed a playful side with a hint of nerves that Janus couldn’t help but smile at.

“Aww you’re asking me for help? This must be an incredibly hard clue if you’re immediately asking me to assist you…” He gasped in fake surprise and shuffled even closer to Logan, he leaned over the newspaper and scanned through it trying to find the clue. Surprisingly, it was the only one left unanswered.

“Urmm, Logan? Not for nothing, but it’s only four letters… You’re practically the smartest person I know, apart from me of course… You really need my help with a four-letter answer? Are you feeling okay?” He chuckled lightly as Logan looked perplexed and titled his head to the side.

“I’m perfectly fine, but it’s an important clue that I need you to solve for me… Please?” He smiled brightly, the nerves in his voice from earlier were gone, replaced with a confidence that Janus added to his mental list of things he liked about Logan. He finally stopped gazing into Logan’s eyes and finally looked at the clue again.

‘Affection that counts for nothing at court…’

He wracked his brain trying to work out the answer, and it didn’t take long for it to manifest. He held out his hand and Logan immediately placed the pen in his palm. He felt the spark as Logan let their fingertips linger for much longer than usual. Janus missed the contact when their fingertips finally separated. He clicked the pen and slowly filled in the gaps with the letters ‘L, O, V, E’ then looked up at Logan with surprise but also hope.

“Janus, ever since we started sitting together with our separate hobbies. I knew I felt a connection between us. When I took that first step and starting the conversation about your books, which went on for hours… I couldn’t deny that I started to develop stronger feelings for you. I spend so much time making excuses to find you reading so I can join you. Being in your company makes me feel safe, calm and happy. I know that it’s not love that I feel yet, but I can’t deny how much I like you. I hope in time though, it could turn into love… That is… if you feel the same way.” Logan smiled as he placed his hand gently on top of Janus’ as he spoke in such a delicate way, as if he was talking to a piece of glass. His heart pounded a million miles a minute and he did look around quickly to make sure there was no-one around waiting to jump out declaring this some elaborate prank or something. When he was certain it was just the two of them, and only them, he knew he needed to give Logan an answer.

“You have no idea how much I was hoping that we would end up feeling the same way. I like everything about you, Logan. I enjoy talking with you and helping you solve the crossword puzzles. This. This is my favourite thing, just being here with you, sitting here and just being together. I agree with you. My feelings for you are undeniably strong, but it isn’t love yet. If we give it enough time though, I would really like it to become that.” He smiled as Logan’s shoulders relaxed at the sound of their feelings being mutual. He wrapped Janus up in a warm hug and they held each other for what felt like a lifetime.

They decided that they would go out for coffee the next day; and call that their first official date. Logan joked about bringing some crossword puzzles with him, but Janus decided that would be a great idea, and the perfect excuse to sit close to each other for the whole date.

This was not how Janus thought his day would go, but he was sure of one thing now. Thanks to Logan; crossword puzzles were his new favourite hobby.

[bnhaworld]

What about a bakugou scenario where he broke up with reader a week before their graduation dance because of all that “i’m gonna be number one and i don’t need any distractions” talk but he does love her. And at the dance he sees her walk in and she looks really pretty. Then he sees she came with Iida or someone like that! Hehe sorry I love angst and drama

Pain? You got it! I hope y’all enjoy! -Calamari

Unfocused Eyes // Katsuku Bakugo x Reader

In which Katsuki chooses being a hero over being your hero.

“Don’t joke like that ‘Suki. I.. It isn’t funny..” Your laughs came out broken but the salty tears pricking your eyes were unmistakably hot with anger. You knew he was serious. You knew that he-

“I can’t afford to have a distraction, ________, you’re a liability.” He spoke with such profuse bluntness that it felt as though it were a dull knife slicing its way into your chest. “It’s not you. So don’t think it is.” 

Though his face remained stoic, his eyes were away from yours- something you had come to recognize as guilty after all these years of being by his side..

Years.. huh..

“Is that all I’ve ever been to you?!” Your words were dripping with anger, but most of all, unyielding pain as your fists shook at your side. You stared at him, pleading with your eyes that he would take it back, that you would wake up- anything to show you this wasn’t serious.

He can’t be..

“I..It’s been good while we had each other.. it’s time for me to move on. I’m going to be the number one hero and I can’t.. I can’t just..” He stared at you shakily, and after a moment of being able to complete the sentence, he stood up and shook his head. He was oddly calm about this, but the constant quaking left you sadistically hoping he was in as much pain as you were.

After a moment, he simply walks away.

It had been a long, excruciating week post-break up. You were torn apart limyb by limb, and so close to the graduation dance, too. Only more salt in the wound. 

Time is the greatest healer, and you had little to none to put yourself together before the dance. But with the support of your friends, you managed. Surprisingly well, at that.

Oddly enough, Tenya had been your greatest support through out it all. He had quickly caught on to your downfall, and as class president, had set himself up as the person to support you fully. There was comfort in him, though, he was oddly skilled at comforting you. He even went as far as to offer to take you to the dance-! 

The dance came, of course, Tenya had been nice enough to not only pick you up, but to get you personally fitted into a dress of your ideals and designs. He was very detailed in making sure to try and make this night as good as he could.

When you finally arrived, something of relief hit you. You were oddly calm, a little less distraught. You were waved over by Ochako and Mina.

“Hey, T.. Tenya?” You glanced up at him and he gave you a knowing smile. He nodded and motioned toward the girls.

“Go ahead, _______! This night is about you. So.. enjoy yourself!”

And with a grateful smile you giddily skipped over to the girls.

That was when he saw you.

Katsuki was propped up against a wall, surrounded by his boys. Eijiro and Denki were happily conversating but it was Hanta that spoke up.

“Is.. Is that _______? She looks so nice!” He commented. Almost instantly, he received a smack on the shoulder by Eijiro, and a shush from Denki. The three of them began to bicker amongst themselves.

Katsuki’s eyes lifted up and when they landed on you he felt himself shatter. He made no movement, no change in expression.. but his crimson eyes darkened with a twinge of anger. He tried to pry his eyes from you but his gaze was unwavering despite his own inner protests.

His heart panged at the sight of you so.. calm. Seeing you happily interact with your friends made him feel like an even bigger asshole than he already had. He stared at you with narrowed eyes.

He felt.. disgusted with himself. He pushed himself off the wall, and the chatter of the trio around him seemed to hush as all eyes returned to him.

“..Bakugo?” It was Eijiro that sliced through the silence but his words fell on deaf ears.

Katsuki felt his heart drop into the deepest pit in his stomach. In the midst of the bickering and his own fury, he hadn’t heard the song shift to a slow song. He failed to move, failed to do anything but watch in repressed agony as Tenya cut through the crowd to find you.

He felt as though his heart broke tenfold when you took his out stretched hand.

He watched as though it were in slow motion to him, the horror taking place before him. Little sparks decorated the ends of his hands, his lowered eyes welling up. He gulped down at the lump growing in his throat but with no avail as he forced himself to watch.

Everything played in his head. Every moment you had ever smiled with him, laughed with him, held him, every moment you said his name played in his mind like a broken record player, forcing him to relive everything he had given up.

It felt like forever had passed as he watched you dance with Tenya. The tears in his eyes had long since spilled over, and the weight in his heart pulled him apart and almost every angle. When the song came to a close and both you and Tenya parted, he watched you with enough intensity for your eyes to snap toward him.

Your eyes drilled into his, and it felt as though anger rushed over you in that moment. Your intensity matched his, and though his was pure blue, yours were filled with anger. 

Tenya’s eyes flickered between you and Katsuki, and in a quiet, calm voice, he spoke, “Perhaps.. speak to him?” 

And though the words were well meaning, you found the anger built in your chest spill over in one loud huff as you rushed outside. Your eyes were spilling over with hot tears that seemed to have no end. The breeze was like a slap to the face when you finally made it outside, the wind constantly bombarding your wet cheeks.

��You couldn’t let him see you like this, you couldn’t let him be a distraction. If you were just a distraction to him, he had to be the same to you. You had to turn off your feelings, you can’t let him know he hurt you because he doesn’t deserve to know he hurt you. He can’t know. He c-

“_________.”

You tensed up instantly but you didn’t turn toward him in any way. You stood up straight, but you permitted the silence to thicken as though you were hoping for a wall to sprout between the two of you.

“________, look at me.”

“Why should I?” Out of unbridled anger, you snapped toward him, ready to scream at him with all the pain holed up in your heavy chest.. but when you looked at him, a layer of it shed away to make room for the sudden pit of rue that sprouted in you.

He looked just as torn apart as you did. He looked like you had that day. Hands balled at his sides, and body shaking with unwavering emotion. This time, though, his eyes were locked on to yours.

You harshly bit down on the need to show him kindness and summoned within you a hissing fury.

“What.. do you want..?” You asked, staring him down. You waited for a response.. anything, something for you to come at him for.

He sputtered on his own words, struggling to string together words. He hadn’t expected himself to chase after you, but his body had suddenly decided you were a necessity, and he would have hated himself if he hadn’t come after you.

“I miss you..” The words came out just as broken as he looked, voice cracked and shaky. 

You didn’t know why, but this angered you further. Your hiss became a cry out as you almost hurt your throat with the way you screamed, 

“You’re the one that LEFT!” 

Katsuki flinched and his mouth opened to protest but you had unhinged yourself and you were quick to continue to scream.

“You left me, Bakugo!” Your fists were shaking at your side and you wished with every part of you that you would stop talking and just hear him out but the words continued to pour. “You were the one that made the choice! You decided I couldn’t be there, that I wasn’t enough, that I was going to HOLD YOU BACK? Was that all I’ve been doing this whole time? Have I been..” You laughed in sour disbelief. “Have I been nothing but a weight to you..?”

Your question had come out quieter than the screaming had. It was though you had parted the silence in the air and replaced it with sadness. You stood there, quietly hiccuping and sobbing to yourself as you stared at Katsuki, almost daring him to say something to you.

He says nothing, though. He takes a step toward you and you almost take a step back but you don’t. You hiccup.

Katsuki stands in front of you, his expression almost mirroring yours in terms of tears as he silently wraps his arms around you. He buries his face in your shoulders, but you only tense up in his arms.

“I’m sorry, _______. I made a mistake.. I need you..” His voice is thick with remorse as he clutches on to you with such desperation that you had no choice but to know he was telling the truth. Your eyes widened for a moment but they quickly shut as you desperately tried to wiggle out of his grasp.

“I hate you! I hate you, I hate you, get off of me!” You sobbed louder than before, pushing and shoving. You wanted to forgive him, but you wanted to be angry at him and though every part of you wanted to just tell him it’s okay but it wasn’t okay, you hadn’t been mad enough you h-

His grip on you tightened. He hated himself so much, hearing you so broken pained him so much. He had never wanted to hurt you this badly.

“I love you. I’m so sorry.. I.. I love you so much..” 

You grew limp for a moment in his arms. And for a moment you said nothing. But after a moment, you couldn’t help it. You just gripped onto his back with matching desperation, hiccuping and sobbing.

“I hate you... I.. I love you so much b..but I hate you..!” You murmured between hiccups.

“It’s okay.. I love you, too, ________.. I really.. really do..” He whispered back, quietly rubbing your back. 

He wasn’t going to let you go. Not for a while. It’s what he should have done from the very beginning. And he was going to be sure that you knew just how much you meant to him..

[xxkellsvixen19xx]

Rainbow After The Storm Andy Biersack X Reader

Word Count: 1,129 

Waning: Angst

What if I told you, life was built to break?

What if I told you "If you love someone, set them free,If they come back they’re yours."

In perfect life; in perfect place.

Every dream was mine to lose,

And that's what it took to lead me back to you.

What had actually happened?

It was all a blur almost the yelling, things being thrown across the room.

Honestly they had both gone through worse.

They felt the others pain on each other's skin.

The way Andy speaks almost breaks Y/N's heart. The sound of shattering glass fills the house,and that’s what makes her eyes widen. 

Y/N’s eyes stare at him she says nothing. She doesn’t have to, her gaze says it all. A thousand words are held in the gaze she bores into him, and Andy knows it, too.

She bites her lip and tighten her grip on the water bottle in her hand. The plastic crunches with the pressure,and she feels hot tears stinging at her eyes. It’s not fair.

Andy's POV…

I knew things were getting rocky between Y/N and I, what would he do to fix this?

My eyes wandered to the horizon the sun was just starting to rise,peeking out from behind white clouds and casting a shadow over the California horizon. 

I took my cigarette butt tossing it in the trash bin inside - and climbed out the window and up to the roof. 

2 ½ hours later...

Y/N entered the kitchen to throw away the trash in her hand just as I was climbing back in through the window.

“Are you sorry?” she asked, I reached for a lighter that had been thrown onto the counter and probably forgotten about for a while, waiting for use. “This keeps happening, Andy, every single time.”

I cringed at that point as I lit up a cigarette holding it between my fingers, speaking while I took a drag.

“But I mean it, I really am sorry! I mean it every time, (Y/N).”

What a damn lie.

“If you meant it, it wouldn’t keep fucking happening.” The words left her mouth in a hiss, I took a step back as she saw my expression shift to frustration.

“Well maybe if you believed me, things would be better. You always just run away to the roof instead of trying to resolve shit, and I’m tired of it!”

Now that pissed me off, with an angry huff I blew smoke from my lungs. “I don’t want to resolve things? Maybe I would if you stopped fucking getting into my shit." I yelled back at

"Maybe if you'd stop drinking so much you'd be a decent damn person Andy." 

The two of us started yelling over each other, blood boiling.

It was the issue, you knew it, and you had been trying so hard to whip the addiction. It was starting to push Y/N's limit with how bad Andy's drinking was turning out to be. 

I winced at the harsh yet true statement, a part of my heart shattered. 

Y/N's POV...

Andy's eyes looked full of pain,hurt,sorrow. They normally had a glint in them when they gazed upon me. A glint so full of love and hope that outdid the average human to even hold such a powerful look it could even murder. No ordinary being deserved to have that power, the kind that sweeps me off my feet and leaves me speechless every damn time.

Everything stood in silence: not a single car dare move along the street, nor  a person speak. It was a delicate silence that if anyone even moved it would shatter and impale either of us -like glass- and it would use the pain as a way to force us to remember how it feels. The silence would hold us down and laugh as it watches us try and scream because it has no remorse for anything or anyone that dares near it. 

Andy broke the silence first  "I'm sorry, my love."

"Don't say that."

Andy broke at this. He needed to say it. To him it was true. Y/N was his love, his life, his world; he meant it with every fibre of his being. Without Y/N , he wouldn't have made it this far so Y/N meant everything to him.

The hole torn open in.Y/N chest feels infinite, as if the vast blackness of space suddenly splits open and begins to suck the sky out. Being married to Andy at first was amazing but during that four years it was at the 3 year mark his drinking began. The fighting was a common occurrence almost daily and the two of us drifted further and further apart. A deep ache and void taking residence where her heart once was. 

Once so  cheery our life together. I miss those days but love and happiness dissolves, print without fixer, a past without present, images faded to shadow. My sadness at what came.across as a sort of betrayal: not mine, the cosmic kind that destines us to be confined to the corridor of our own pain, never glimpsing at each other to notice it.

Vision restricted by the enlarged perimeter of self. Where to begin? How to forge words that join two pasts so fractured within themselves, edges abutting? 

What do about our marriage? Where do.we began? Tears now dropping despite I was trying.so hard not to cry again. So much of forg3 boils down to fear. Not one of the seven deadly sins, but surely the most potent of mine. Fear of not knowing if we can get back to the way we once were. Fear of not knowing if we can get back to being so much in love as if nothing had made the impact it had. Self-centeredness and even feeling unsure.

I look right at Andy. You’re not so different. We all have pain.

Yes, Y/N, we do. He responded and for the first time in a long time calm. No yelling, no arguing,.no.glass shattering.

Suffering. Struggle. Separately shared. Little resolutions, he says. Little reconciliations. What you would call the spark of the divine. That’s what I think we get here, in this life, on earth. I reach out my hand, resting it on Andy's shoulder. We both lean toward each other and with a strong yet firm movement he pulls me.close to him. With effort, I meet his eyes not surprisingly we feel in love all over again as if we had never stopped. "I love you Andy Biersack today, tomorrow and forever even when I die I'll never stop."  "Neither will I baby girl…. neither will I."