#with the scissors several times (i think i was trying to injure her but she just laughed)

[inoreuct]

I've been lurking in the Zosan tag and I'm super in love with the snippets you've been posting! For a prompt, I really enjoy them being soft and taking care of each other after fights? Also love outsider POV if that seems fun to you.

wahshdhdhhs THANK YOU 😭 i’m having so much fun writing them and i had fun writing THIS :)) made it short and sweet and mostly from nami’s pov; soft but also they bicker because. when do they not. enjoy!

Nami huffed as she made her way to the galley, peckish after the battle. Sanji was probably there, but loathe as she was to admit it she’d feel a little bad to ask him to make something; that fight had taken a lot out of all of them, and she’d gotten off easy— The last she’d seen him he’d been wrapping his forearms with his shirt and trying to staunch the bleeding from several wicked slashes.

The door was cracked open when she got there. Strange. Sanji was meticulous about keeping it shut to keep Luffy out, but she supposed if he was to be lax at any time, it would be when he was injured. 

That was, until she heard the voices.

“Stop moving, shithead!”

“I’m not moving! The fuck are you—”

She peeked through into the kitchen and almost stopped breathing, hunger forgotten, fatigue banished, grin growing by the second.

“If you don’t stop fucking fidgeting it’s gonna leave a scar,” Zoro warned, tugging Sanji’s hand forward again and rolling his eyes at the cook’s dramatic sigh.

Sanji was perched on the dining table, one arm outstretched as Zoro shoved a needle threaded with fishing line through his skin. He tried to hide his wince at a particularly tender spot, shoulders jumping before they settled at Zoro’s soft sound of apology. Nami took a note at the back of her mind to get Luffy to befriend more doctors.

Still, looking at the arm that Zoro had already finished, the stitches were neater than Zoro would have done on himself; she’d seen the scars that he’d gotten from sewing himself up. They didn’t look like they’d had half this much care put into them.

“You’re lucky they aren’t that deep. The hell’d you go and do this for, shitty cook? You need your hands,” the swordsman mumbled, brows furrowing and actually sounding a little confused, and Nami simultaneously felt sorry for him and like she wanted to clobber the big idiot upside the head. 

“Ah, you know me,” Sanji sighed, slouching to the side dramatically but keeping his arm still. “Always the martyr—” Zoro levelled him with an unimpressed stare, cutting a stitch with a dry snip, and he faltered. “Well, I— I don’t know, marimo.” He shrugged, swallowing. His eyes were staring at something on the table. “I saw you there and just moved.”

Nami gathered her context clues and had to stop herself from pumping her fists. It was finally happening. The two idiots had been dancing around each other for ages; She and Usopp had a running bet on who would get their shit together first, but hell, at this point she didn’t even care who won.

Zoro sighed heavily, short and sharp, pushing Sanji’s skin together to finish off the last stitch. “Just— Don’t do it again.”

“The hell do you mean don’t do it again, you ingrate?!” Sanji squawked, outraged and hissing through his teeth when the fishing line was tightened. “I saved your life!”

“I would’ve been fine!”

“You would’ve been hurt—”

Zoro tossed the scissors and needle aside, brandishing a roll of gauze in Sanji’s face. “And what if you couldn’t cook anymore?!” 

“Well maybe, just maybe—” The cook snatched the gauze, gripping it in his fist with his eyes ablaze, “Really think about this, now— I care more about you than that, you moss-brained oaf.” He took a measured inhale, jaw working as he looked away. Nami was about to do a victory lap around the deck. “Good God, how long is it gonna take to get it through your thick skull…” 

“Curly-brow.” 

Sanji remained resolute, face turned to the side even as Zoro stepped closer.

“Oi, cook.”

He wound the gauze between his fingers, looking down.

“Sanji,” Zoro murmured. “Baby. Come here.”

Nami clapped a hand over her mouth, eyes wide as coins. This was a thing. They were already a thing. Oh, Usopp was absolutely going to lose his shit. 

Sanji swallowed, unable to escape when Zoro had callused hands on his knees and was dipping down to nose at his cheek. “First you want me to stop moving, now you want me to—” He cut off when Zoro kissed him, simple and sweet, thumb rubbing circles over his kneecap. “…Mm. Right, yes, I suppose that’s… a valid reason.”

“Thank you.” Zoro set his jaw, looking up at Sanji earnestly. “I mean it, curls. I know how much cooking means to you. And you said...”

Nami watched as Sanji’s face softened, his hand coming up to cup the side of Zoro’s face. “Of course, mon chou.”

The swordsman chuckled low in his chest. “Did you just call me a cabbage?”

“Wh— No.”

“Yes, you did.”

“How the hell do you know?”

“Our navigator doesn’t just have maps. Found a French dictionary lying around.” 

Shit, she’d been wondering where that had gone. Green-haired bastard.

“Said navigator’s been here since five minutes ago.”

Double shit. 

Sanji whipped around with a scandalised noise as she gave up the act and stood in the doorway properly. “Nami!”

“I didn’t see anything!” she cackled, just barely sheepish, hands up in a gesture of peace as she turned and hightailed it out of there. The smart thing to do would be to blackmail the shit out of Zoro—

But she thought of how gently they’d treated each other, the looks in their eyes, and sighed. She’d let them have this.

(But getting her to admit that they were good for each other or that she was happy for them would be harder than pulling teeth, she’d make sure of that.) *

“Go get me a wet cloth, darling, there’s blood in your hair.”

“You think she’ll snitch?” Zoro asked, running the tap over a clean dishcloth and wringing it out before walking back.

Sanji hummed, non-committal and slightly amused. “Would you mind if she did?” he asked lightly, seemingly unbothered as he wiped at the red drying tacky in Zoro’s hairline from where he’d been whacked over the head.

The swordsman laughed under his breath. He could feel the tension in Sanji from the way he was sitting, spine too straight as he wrapped his arms around the cook’s waist, hipbones pressed into the table’s edge between his thighs. “…Not really, no.”

“Nothing to worry about, then,” Sanji said, cool and composed, but this time he didn’t bother hiding the relief in his smile. “Now.” He pursed his lips, scrubbing the rest of the blood out of Zoro’s eyebrow. “To the showers with you, and then bed.”

Zoro held up the gauze. “Still gotta wrap your stitches.”

Sanji rolled his eyes again, the corners crinkling as he smiled. “Fine. Wrap, shower, bed.”

“Mm,” Zoro hummed, pulling him close and leaning up for one last kiss. “Perfect.” 

fin.

[abybweisse]

Ch191 Spoilers, part one

I'm only showing bits and pieces of the chapter, but I'll explain what's not shown here, too.

So, ch190 left off with Ronald grabbing Layla by the wrists. And we pick up where that left off. Layla realizes he must be a reaper. Notice that Alan and Eric have also been shown here. That's only the second time in the entire series!

Ronald explains he was trying to figure out who the bizarre doll was (or something like that), and he was looking at Layla and Ada.

Layla bends over forward, as if she's given into defeat, but she actually uses this as leverage to hit him in the face with the back of her head, then she escapes from his grasp.

Then she pulls out two weapons -- I can't quite tell if it's a dagger and a pair of scissors with an ornate handle... or two similar pairs of scissors -- and he snaps, which makes his death scythe fall right out of the air.

And then they fight.

Idk why she has the strength to do this, in her current condition, but it strongly reminds me of the post I did about her parallel to Mother3's Li'l Ms. Marshmallow, back on June 5th.

I'm having app issues and cannot seem to add a link to that post right now, nor can I seem to paste text I've copied (wtf?)... but you should be able to search my blog for "marshmallow", and it should be right below a post about Ada's parallel in Mother2 (that post mentions Layla and Li'l Ms. Marshmallow, too, since I'm paralleling Jane to a precursor of Li'l Ms. Marshmallow, as far as game series adversaries go.)

Li'l Ms. Marshmallow starts out like this:

But, as I said in that June 5th post about it: "Once she's been injured, she goes into a higher/stronger attack mode that can damage multiple enemies, called Ultra Ticked-Off System." And then she looks like this:

Here, she's shown almost the same! Seriously, this is as about as close as it gets to being the exact same character! This image is in the chapter right before he snaps a finger to summon his lawnmower death scythe:

I think it's two pairs of scissors.

She's severely injured and shouldn't be able to fight harder, but here she is, pulling out more weapons (from somewhere in/under her clothes, just like marshmallow robot girl) and taking a fighting stance. So, Layla is even more-clearly a parallel to Li'l Ms. Marshmallow from Mother3... and I'll post part two asap.

I wonder whether she says something about being "Ultra Ticked-Off".... 😂

[monkeydlesbian]

trust — shizuku murasaki x gn!reader (hunter x hunter)

june 1st — hurt/comfort and confession of love

bittersweet, sly, uncontrollable: event masterlist

synopsis: Shizuku is severely injured after a mission with the Phantom Troupe, and it is your job as her partner to patch her up. Being in love with her makes the process ten times harder, though.

word count: 1.4k

warnings (!!): mentions of blood, injuries, cuts/wounds/lacerations, and the use of needles in suturing/stitching. please let me know if i have missed anything!

a/n: hiii let's pretend i didn't post this after midnight giggles,, um anyways HAAAIII happy pride month!! this is the first fic in a series of five i believe and i honestly don't think i've had this much motivation for any event i've ever done LMFAAOOO,, anyways please reblog if you enjoyed, and don't forget to plug your favorite lgbtq+ writers with me and others!!

Shizuku has presented herself as nothing but calm since the day you met her.

Aloof, one could say. She never worries outwardly at least, and her tone is always cool and even, without stutters or anything like that.

Even now, with a laceration as wide as your thumb on her left side by her spider tattoo, she speaks evenly. The only indication of discomfort or pain is her fingers gripping the sleeve of your shirt and her chest that moves up and down sporadically.

This is the most disheveled you’ve ever seen her, and it looks like she’s handling it ten times better than you are.

“I’m fine, Y/N,” she says, with little to no emotion in her tone. Her assurance comes out in the form of a deep sigh, probably due to how heavily she’s breathing. That tingly sensation of tears and emotions crawls its way up to your throat as you lay her down onto the couch in your hotel room, getting a better look at the blood staining her shirt and the uncomfortable crease in her brow.

“You were b-bleeding out, Shizuku,” you say as calmly as you can, turning to find the first aid kit that was placed conveniently in all of the troupe members' hotel rooms. You find it hidden inside the mini-fridge, of all places, and take a deep breath before turning to her again,

“You’re obviously not fine.”

She goes quiet after that, attempting to take her shirt off herself but stopping when she winces. Shizuku might be stubborn, but she knows what’s good for her at least.

“Let me,” you say gently, setting the first aid kit on the floor by the sofa and getting down on your knees to be at her injured side. Your fingers reach for the hem of her shirt, preparing to lift it up and away from her damp skin to reach the wound, but you hesitate. You glance up at Shizuku and she nods jerkily, granting you permission.

You look back down at your fingers gripping the hem of her shirt and lift it carefully and swiftly up and away from her skin, revealing the wound right beside her spider tattoo. The bleeding has slowed significantly thanks to the pressure she had put on it on her own, but the sight of it still clogs your throat up with worry.

“Shit, Shizuku,” you breathe out, “a-are you able to take this off or will I have to cut it?” You ask, referring to the shirt that rests just beneath her chest.

“I think—“ her fingers shake as she reaches for the hem of the shirt in your own, trying to pull it up and off of her body herself. She winces again, and her fingers move down to your wrists naturally in her defeat.

“Cut it, please.”

You give her a weak smile in an attempt at reassurance and nod, reaching down with one hand into the first aid kit for a pair of scissors while your other hand still holds her shirt above the wound.

You take the scissors to the fabric of her shirt and start to cut, being careful to avoid contact with the metal blade on the skin around the laceration. You cut it all the way up to the collar and then move the fabric out of the way.

With her torso and chest now fully exposed, you do your best to subdue the heat settling in your stomach and on your cheeks and set the scissors down, using both hands now to pick up the supplies needed to suture the wound.

“I’m no Machi,” you say as you prepare the needle and surgical thread, “but this should be enough to close the wound and protect it until we can get to her. Or a hospital, at least.”

“It’s okay,” she says quietly, as if she’s trying to avoid interrupting you, “I trust you.”

This admission makes you nearly stop in your tracks, but you keep going, fighting a smile as you open up a pack of antiseptic wipes to clean her cut.

“Big words from someone with a spider tattoo,” you quip with a little smile, beginning to clean the semi-dried blood around the cut with the wipes. You press down a little too harshly and she hisses suddenly, and that tight ball of fear and worry makes its way up to your throat again. You mumble an apology before you finish cleaning the skin around the wound, preparing it for suture.

“I really do trust you, you know.”

Her words finally stop you in your tracks. You look up at her from your spot on the floor, seeing the faint, almost shy, smile on her face.

You almost laugh; Shizuku rarely ever smiles. It’s not that she isn’t happy, or hates everything all of the time, she just rarely shows emotions outside of her usual stoicism. She would rather tell you what she’s feeling instead of showing it, so you’d guess that even now, her trust is genuine and quite strong. Genuine enough to vocalize to you outright.

“I…I trust you too, Shizuku,” you admit, grabbing the prepared needle and surgical thread from its place on the arm of the sofa.

“I like you a lot as well,” you also admit noncommittally, “like—a lot, a lot. Almost to the point where I can’t breathe around you. Or speak. Phinks thinks it’s hilarious.”

You glance up at her again nervously, expecting a look of confusion or disgust. She’s still smiling, however; still shy but a bit wider.

“You…like me?” She asks, like she can’t believe what she’s hearing. You look into her eyes and see nothing but genuine curiosity, the beautiful plum color of her irises practically glowing in the soft light of the hotel room.

“Uh—yeah. Yeah. I really like you,” you look away and laugh, almost in disbelief at your own gumption just now. Admitting your feelings to the girl who nearly died in your arms due to blood loss thirty minutes prior? Dick move. She’s probably tired and delirious, and giving her things to worry and think about will only make her recovery harder.

“Is that why you asked me if I could take my own shirt off?” She asks suddenly, “so you wouldn’t have to do it and get nervous?”

That’s when you finally laugh, “you’re always so blunt, Shizuku. But yeah, I can’t patch you up if I’m nervous.”

“I guess that makes sense,” she says softly.

You look back up at her again at that, seeing the smile still on her face and her eyes still glowing a beautiful amethyst purple.

Her hand reaches up to brush your cheek weakly, and that’s when you find you can’t stand it anymore.

You drop the needle and thread in the first aid kit haphazardly before standing up from the floor, hunching over Shizuku’s body on the couch carefully to not touch her wound. Your hands find both sides of her face as you bring your lips to hers.

She responds positively, gasping a little into your mouth before her lips start to mold naturally with yours. Your fingers reach up to brush her hair shakily behind her ears, your nose bumps and bends against hers, and your eyebrows hit the frame of her glasses. You're sure you've smudged her lenses.

The kiss isn’t pretty by any means, and you wish you could’ve been more smooth or tactful in your approach, but you really can't find it in yourself to care.

You fight the urge to let your hands wander too far and your tongue slip farther into her mouth, remembering that she's still injured. It's the reminder of her injury that pulls you away from her, and you're pleasantly surprised to see her chase after you.

"I have to put your stitches in," you say breathily, pressing a kiss to her forehead before kneeling back down on the ground in front of her. You grab the needle and thread from the first aid kit and look back up at her. She's frowning, which is something you would have never expected to see from Shizuku.

"Will you kiss me more after you put them in?" She asks, almost innocently, as if she's afraid you'll run away from her at any given moment.

You laugh, grabbing her hand and pressing small kisses to her knuckles, almost in the manner one would kiss the hands of a royal.

"I'll kiss you as much as you like."

She smiles, before leaning her head back on the couch and taking a deep breath.

"I promise I'll be gentle," you reassure her, bringing the needle up to the laceration with steady hands.

"I know. I trust you."

all rights reserved © fukuncga || do not translate, repost, or claim my works as your own.

[magnoliabloomfield]

Garden of Heathen 38- Sling and a Miss

Warning: Fluffstration lol i like giving nice, joke warnings

Gally and Gertie went back and forth about how Aussie might be doing until the drugs did their thing and he was out. All the girls in the garden rested after the hard work they did, planning to hold the funerals in the evening.

Gally was gently shaken awake this time, no fingers pressing on his injured shoulder to wake him up. Groggily he came to and saw a mess of stuff on the table. Bobbins of thread, scissors, scraps of fabric and a jar of buttons. He saw Gertie to his right waking up Aussie as well.

She was wearing different clothes than when he'd last seen her and her hair was down. It looked like she'd fallen asleep mid project as she had a shirt in her hands still.

"Come on guys, time for the funerals," Gertie said softly.

Aussie and Gally followed her out of the house groggily, Aussie rubbing her eyes to try and wake herself up more. Gally was not fully present in reality, the drugs still in his system making him feel a bit floaty. Part of him thought he should say something to Aussie but as usual he didn't know what. He glanced behind him and as far as he could tell they were the tail end of this funeral procession. Gertie was walking ahead of them so he figured it was safe enough.

He reached over and messily entwined his fingers with Aussie's teeny tiny ones. Out of the corner of his eye he saw her glance up at him. She didn't say anything and she didn't pull her hand away, just gave his a little squeeze.

They made it across the clearing and through the woods to the graves. Three fresh markers stood with the two older ones.

"What are you doing?" Gertie whispered, eying their clasped hands.

"I was helping him balance, what with the uneven ground and all," Aussie lied quickly and easily in case anyone else saw or over heard them.

Gally felt a bit sad as she slipped her hand from his after fibbing about it, but he understood why she lied about it. Still, he'd love to know what the truth was.

She remained close to him as several girls spoke about Lanie, how she was always cheerful, helpful, and never complained. Joan and a few others from the guard said a few words about Athena as well, seeming awkward about it. They focused on the past more than the present to keep it fairly positive. Gally was surprised that Aussie kept quiet during it all, surely she had something to say about them. It worried him.

A hush fell over the girls, one that threatened to be an awkward silence as they milled about. No one was speaking up for Hedy. Gally felt Aussie slide her hand down his arm before she stepped away from his side and walked through the girls to stand by Hedy's marker. She placed her hand on it and but her lip, taking a moment to find the words.

"We are all victims of this place and the makers," she began. "But sometimes we're also the victims of consequence. We make decisions... we think we know what to do... or sometimes we don't put as much thought into something as we should."

She gently tapped her palm against the marker. Gally could tell she was talking about herself as much as Hedy.

"Sure, Hedy made a few bad decisions," her eyes landed on Gally as she said this. "There's no sugar coating that. And she had to face the consequences, but she also had to deal with this place on top of it- being stung and all. What I'm trying to say is, she was human and made mistakes, pretty bad ones, but she was our friend too, and she had her good moments at times. It's ok to remember the good parts of her and miss those. None of these girls deserved to die the way they did. Not a single one of them. And none of you deserve to be in this place either."

Aussie had run out of words, she didn't know what else there was to say. She couldn't  promise anyone that they wouldn't face a similar fate, she couldn't promise they'd be able to make the Makers pay for what they'd done, or that there was any real meaning behind the loss of life that had taken place. But then she felt something bubbling up from deep inside, something she'd never said before but always felt.

"The worst part is ... they'll never be able to leave now," she said as tears choked her up.

Their lives that they remembered were only of this place and their bones would stay here. Nothing felt sadder than that to Aussie, and she definitely didn't want that to be her or anyone else's fate.

Everyone had maintained a stiff upper lip right up until she said that, then the tears began to flow. Girls were sniffling and hugging all around Gally now and he was to far from Aussie to hold her. But he saw Joan grab her up in a bear hug, Aussie's arms going rigid for a moment in surprise before hugging back.

Pain jolted through him as Gertie grabbed ahold of him, crying on his shirt.

"Ow. Ow, ow, ow," he murmured as he tried to reposition her so she wouldn't be hurting his arm, breathing a sigh of relief when he did so and squeezing her with his good arm.

He didn't know why she was crying, not because there wasn't a reason to, but because there were so many reasons to. Was she crying over Lanie and how she died in front of her, out of fear of dying herself, or something else? He didn't know, so he kept his mouth shut and let her cry.

Girls began to leave as it started getting dark, filtering by and giving him the occasional odd look. He just shrugged with his good shoulder as he tried to comfort Gertie. When everyone else besides Aussie and them were gone he finally attempted to say something to her, having to grab and pull her by the curls, tilting her face up at him.

"Gertie, I'm going to make sure you get out of here, ok?" He told her with all the softness and confidence he could muster just then.

"You smell bad," she sniffled before letting him go, standing back with crossed arms.

Honestly, why did he even try with her.

Aussie sat on the dirt in front of the graves with her back to them. Gally caught Gertie's eye and nodded for them to go over there. They took a seat, one on either side of her, Gertie grabbing her hand.

"I hope you don't mind me saying a few words about Hedy," she said to him after a few minutes. "Considering everything she put you through."

He shook his head. "No worries," he told her. "It was nice of you to do that."

"Aussie?" Gertie spoke up. "Not to be a jerk or anything, but can we go? I'm quite sick of these woods and don't want to see them at night again."

"Mmm I have to agree with her," Gally grimaced.

"Yeah, I think I agree too," Aussie said with the smallest of laughs.

The walk back to the house was silent but not awkward. It felt like moving forward and putting what happened behind them, at least, that's what Gally felt.

Gertie was rooting around in the freezer while Aussie sat on the couch and continued her sewing project.

"What are you making?" Gally asked as he settled in with his pillows again.

"Oh, I'm converting this shirt into a button up for you," she answered as she held it up. "I thought it would be easier for your shoulder."

He was impressed but, by now, not surprised. Aussie could be counted on to think ahead about others.

"Aha! I found it!" Gertie exclaimed from the kitchen before Gally could thank Aussie for her efforts. "I knew you squirreled away some of her soup. What do you say? Wanna warm it up?"

Gally looked at Gertie and then back at Aussie with a questioning brow.

"Lanie's special recipe," Aussie explained with a sad smile. "Yeah, Gertie. Let's warm it up."

Gertie banged around the pots in the cabinet and began thawing out the soup as Aussie returned to her sewing. It was just the right amount of background activity to feel comfortable and distract Gally from the craziness of the past few days. His arm hurt and everything, but having Gertie and Aussie fussing over him regularly kind of made up for it. Plus it made him believe a good life could exist outside this place.

"Out of curiosity, when will that shirt be done?" He asked Aussie.

"Gosh, I dunno," she admitted, one corner of her mouth sinking in as she furrowed her brows in thought. "I'm trying to make it good so it won't fall apart, that's hard to do quickly by hand."

He hummed thoughtfully as well. "So, I'll probably have to shower before it's done?"

"Um, I'd guess yes," Aussie nodded as she examined the work left to do on it.

"Do I smell right now?" He asked, remembering how Gertie told him so earlier.

Aussie's eyebrows went up slightly at that. "Do you... want the truth?"

Gally almost snorted. "I think I just got it," he smirked ruefully. "Gertie! How do I shower?"

"If you don't know that by now there's not much hope for you!" She called back, making him roll his eyes.

"You know what I mean!"

"Alright, alright. I'll rig something up you can wear in the shower," Gertie said as she left the kitchen and rummaged in the closet.

"Careful not to lose your balance and slip in there," Aussie reminded him as she focused on stitching a buttonhole.

"That would be embarrassing," he agreed as Gertie approached him. "What is that?"

She smiled triumphantly as she held up two sports bras with zip up fronts attached to each other to make a larger loop.

"It's a make shift sling," Gertie informed him as Aussie slowly started wheezing.

Gally pressed his lips together and embraced his fate. He took it from her and stood up, making his way toward the bathroom.

"Won't he need help?" Aussie asked Gertie.

"Let's see if he does."

A few moments passed before the bathroom door opened again, a heavy sigh reaching their ears.

"I... need help," he admitted begrudgingly.

It seemed like the next casualty of the Garden was the dignity of its only male resident.

Gertie scrunched her nose in a wicked little smile at Aussie as she returned to stirring the soup, jerking her thumb for Aussie to go deal with it.

"Coming!" Aussie called as she got up.

She found Gally leaning on the counter, red with embarrassment, the bra sling and his fresh clothes laying there.

"Can't get the shirt off?" She asked him as she leaned on the door frame.

He nodded simply.

"Ok, sit down, tall one," she instructed him as she put the lid of the toilet down. "Let's get your good arm free first."

He sat down and she figured the easiest way to pull his shirt up was from behind, otherwise the sling was in the way.

"Just... just let me know if you get uncomfortable at any point," she said after biting her bottom lip several times.

"What do you mean?"

"I don't even know," she sighed. "I just keep feeling like I have to be careful after.. you know, with H-Hedy. I just want to make sure you're comfortable and feel safe, I guess. But I think I keep making it weird."

She laughed a little nervously as she played with her fingers.

Gally stared at her for a moment, trying to figure out what to say to that. Nothing eloquent came to mind so he went with his gut.

"Aussie, thanks, but I trust you. I'm really not worried about any of ... that coming from you. Don't worry about it, ok?" He tried to assure her as she stood there practically gnawing on her lip.

Honestly, the thought that she'd be nervous about touching him was almost painful, that's not how he wanted it to be. He wanted her to feel like she could initiate contact with him without worrying.

She took a deep breath and nodded. "Ok," she sighed. "But do let me know if something actually hurts, ok?"

"Ok," he agreed with a small smile trying to make this whole thing a little less serious.

She came over and reached over his shoulders, gently pulling his shirt till it was mostly all up under his arms. She bunched the hem up with the sleeve and held it as he pulled his good arm through.

"Ok, hold your arm," she instructed before taking the sling off his neck. She gently lifted the shirt over his head after that, then it was easy to slide it down his bad arm.

It was almost unbearably ticklish to feel her fingers ghost across his skin occasionally, and when her hair would brush against him as she moved around him. Even the tops of his shoulders were blushing.

Aussie was trying her best not to stare and didn't realize she was biting her lip so intensely she'd almost swallowed her chin. She grabbed the make shift sling and helped him maneuver his arm into it before looping it over his neck.

"That feel ok?" She asked him as she felt her pulse hammer in her neck.

"Yeah, it'll do for a bit," he nodded as he looked at it then up at her she sat on the edge of the tub next to him. "What happened to your lip?"

She raised her brows and glanced in the mirror, her bottom lip slightly swollen with a serious indent from her extra pointy tooth on the right side.

"Uh, nothing," she shook her head. "I mean, it's been like that from- you know." She mimed getting hit in the face then awkwardly slapped her hands down on her lap to stand up. "Well, I guess I'll leave you to the rest of it, just ah, call for me when you need help with getting your shirt on," she said awkwardly, bumping into the door frame as she backed out of the room and closed the door behind her.

She went into the kitchen and opened the fridge for no reason, looking for nothing in particular. Gertie slid into her peripheral vision with a smirk and a raised brow.

"You think he's hot."

"Gertie!" Aussie almost choked as she shoved her away. "Shut up!"

Gertie cackled. "You do!" She sang as she stirred the soup sassily, shoving the still frozen chunks down.

"He is hurt, that was all done out of basic necessity, it was not the proper time to ogle the poor guy," Aussie hissed at her, swatting at her with a potholder.

"Ogle?" Gertie giggled.

"Whatever," Aussie sighed irritably as Gertie continued to grin.

She couldn't leave her alone for long though and leaned toward her.

"Were his muscles big?" She asked in a childish voice through pursed lips, laughing when Aussie's glaring face turned red.

"Oh, oh! I know!" Gertie cried gleefully as she clapped.

She handed the spoon over to Aussie and ran into the other room. There was some rummaging and she soon returned with a tube of ointment.

"Here! You should have a wonderful time rubbing this on his sore shoulder," she said with a grin as she tossed it to Aussie and took her spoon back.

"What has gotten into you?" Aussie asked as she sat on the counter.

"I'm just trying to cheer you up."

"You're inappropriate."

"Well, you're not wrong," Gertie shrugged. "But come on, who else would he allow to help him right now? Maybe me, but he'd complain the whole time. Maybe Joan, but she'd suck at it. You dorks kind of need each other. It'd be cute if it weren't so gross."

Aussie palmed her eyes as Gertie spouted all her nonsense. "That's... great. Thank you, Gertie."

"My pleasure!"

Masterlist

@a-ravenclaw-into-tardis-221b @sweetseunghyun-poulter @mrbillymontgomery @crazysheeplyca @frequentlychangingfandoms @massivechaos @rllych

[edendaphne]

“Discordant Sonata” Chapter 20

>>Click here to read on Ao3<<

>>Click here to read on Wattpad<<

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CHAPTER 20: PRESTISSIMO

 Music glossary:

 Prestissimo - "Extremely quickly”; to be played as fast as possible

* Fun tidbit:  The name “Gaspard” means "bringer of treasure" *

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(Mood Music: “Dead Things” - Philip Glass)

Adrien cursed into his gag, feebly squirming on the back seat of the car he’d been dragged into. The windows were heavily tinted, so there was no chance that anyone would be able to see him. Not that that mattered right now anyway, as he couldn’t even sit up at the moment. In fact, he couldn’t feel any of his appendages due to whatever drug his bodyguard (or... whoever he was) had injected into him.

One thing was certain: since neither of these men was the real Gaspard, they must be akumas, and his father had used their likeness to trick him.

Damn it. Why had he left his guard down back there? He should’ve known not to trust anyone. And now thanks to his idiocy, Marinette had gotten dragged into this giant mess, and he had no idea where “Fake-Gaspard #2” had taken her. He’d never forgive himself if anything happened to her. He seethed silently, consumed by fear and anger, both simultaneously raging for control.

He could feel Plagg behind him trying to fiddle with the zip ties that bound his arms together; but it wasn’t as simple as merely unlocking a safe or a door. Having Plagg with him was his only ace in the hole, so he had to remain hidden. Adrien had to plan his escape carefully for when the effects of the drug had worn off enough. Even if Plagg wasn’t able to remove the ties, he could still unlock the car door, so Adrien could roll out and... hopefully not be crushed to death by traffic. He let out a muffled grumble.

Okay... maybe that wasn’t the best idea.

He had to do something soon though; there wasn’t much time left before they arrived back at the Agreste mansion, and the only feeling he’d regained was in his hands and feet. He supposed he should consider himself lucky. If the dosage had been any higher, it could’ve interfered with his lungs, or worse.

Not that Father would care, he huffed impassively. If anything, it would get him out of the picture permanently, and he’d no longer be an inconvenience to Hawkmoth’s schemes.

Adrien’s thoughts drifted back to Marinette; worry and anxiety about what had happened to his beloved roommate clouded his mind, interfering with his concentration. He replayed her scuffle with the bodyguards over and over in his head, the overwhelming feelings of guilt and shame causing his entire being to ache in agony and self-loathing. This was all his fault. He was pathetic. Degraded from superhero to hostage with no one but himself to blame.

If Gabriel locked him away, would he ever find out what happened to her? Memories of being locked in a small, almost completely barren room for days at a time as punishment for misbehavior flashed in his mind, causing his insides to churn and his hands to get clammy. He fought the panic that threatened to boil over within him and firmly shoved the memories away. He needed his wits about him at the moment, and getting sucked into a spiral of panic would prevent him from being able to think logically.

His thoughts were interrupted as the car screeched to a halt, and had his Not-Bodyguards not partially strapped him into the lap seatbelts, he would’ve been thrown onto the floor from the momentum. He managed to turn his head and shake it slightly to try to get the hair out of his eyes, letting out a small grunt of puzzlement. What was happening??

His confusion didn’t last long.

An enormous force hurtled down from the sky onto the hood of the car, squashing it like an empty aluminum can, crushing the engine and rendering it useless. Once the dust and debris settled, Adrien peeked as high as he could, trying to catch a glimpse of what had landed on the car. Despite his meager view from the back seat, coupled with his blurry eyesight (as he’d lost his eyeglasses sometime during the scuffle), he could still make out the unmistakable red boots and black leggings that stood on top of the broken metal.

A million questions swirled around in his head in a jumbled tornado of confusion and elation. He tried calling out her name, having completely forgotten that he couldn’t, and he doubled his efforts trying to squirm out of his bindings so he could get her attention.

His endeavors were cut short though. Despite his impaired vision, he saw the distinct glowing masks form in front of the men’s faces.

I knew it!! he thought, glaring at them with distaste.

They rushed out of the car without a word, and he couldn’t help but utterly loathe the thought of Ladybug fighting both of them by herself, despite her partner being mere feet away, albeit totally useless.

God, I hate being a damsel in distress, he frowned. I hope she’s gonna be okay.

In a vicious display of skill that shocked onlookers, barely a minute later Ladybug had the two men strung up with her yo-yo from a street light. They hung several feet above the ground, expressions slightly miffed but otherwise still rather blank, which, for an akuma, was unusual to say the least.

“Ugh, not in here either,” Ladybug remarked crossly, discarding a broken watch onto the floor, joining the plethora of other torn items and belongings scattered all around them. “Where the hell is it?!” she grumbled after tearing a shoe in half and still not seeing any blackened butterflies.

She frowned, twisting her mouth in annoyance. If I keep going like this, they’ll end flashing all of Paris, she thought. Best to turn them over to the authorities and continue this search at the police station. She needed to check on Adrien anyway.

Right on cue, the police arrived and secured the area. After making sure the police had a handle on the situation, Ladybug rushed to the busted car to retrieve Adrien.

She jerked the car door open––or rather, tried to– accidentally yanking the entire door handle off and warping the metal of the door itself. She cursed in irritation, deciding to bypass the door altogether, and leaped onto the top of the car. With a strained heave, she peeled off the entire roof like a can opener, all the while muttering a colorful string of expletives Adrien had never heard his mild-mannered, even-tempered partner say before.

She dropped down next to him onto the back seat, releasing the seatbelts and assisting Adrien into a seated position. She reached up to touch his face, apologizing sheepishly before carefully peeling off the tape that covered his mouth.

Despite the gag being gone, Adrien remained speechless, staring at Ladybug with an intensity she’d never seen coming from him before. With a small, flustered stutter, she summoned a Lucky Charm. A pair of small, polka-dotted scissors landed onto the palm of her hand. She made quick work of his bindings and briefly inspected the red marks on his skin to make sure he was unharmed.

Adrien threw his arms around her, bringing her into a bone crushing hug, his entire body shaking like a leaf.

“Oh, Adrien,” she whispered, her voice still a bit raspy, and squeezed back firmly. “I’m so glad I found you. I was so scared.”

He didn’t reply, as he was near-hyperventilating, but his grip around her shoulders tightened and he buried his head into her neck, seeking comfort.

A few moments later, Ladybug gently lifted Adrien out of the car, careful not to touch the jagged metal edges. She hopped down to the ground and gingerly sat him on a nearby bench. He wobbled unsteadily, but managed to stay upright as she examined him.

“How are you feeling? Can you tell me what happened?” she asked, seemingly snapping him out of a haze.

Without a word, his head whipped up and his eyes developed a determined glint. He shot up to his feet– or, at least, he attempted to– barely managing to take a single wobbly step before crumpling onto the ground.

“Adrien!!” Ladybug called out as she halfway caught him. “Are you injured?! What’s happened to your legs?”

“Paralyzing drug,” Adrien slurred. “I’ll be fine,” he continued as he clumsily broke away from her hold, successfully taking a couple of shaky steps forward.

Ladybug exclaimed, horrified, “They drugged you?! What did they want?” She stepped in front of him, placing her hands gently on his chest, halting his attempt to flee. “Where are you going?? You’re in no condition to be running around right now, we need to take you to a hospital!”

Adrien shook his head, his tone becoming increasingly desperate, his pace becoming faster and more frantic as he stumbled ahead. “No no, please, I need to go look for her!”

“What’s wrong?” Ladybug asked, perplexed. “Look for who?” she said as she rushed beside him.

“I have to go back!” he pleaded. “I have to make sure she’s okay! She could be in danger, I need to find her!”

At this point, they’d reached a grassy portion of an adjacent park, and the uneven ground caused him to trip over himself. He cried out as he fell on top of Ladybug, who had surged forward to catch him.

“Please…” he looked down at her, barely able to hold himself up with his arms in their weakened state. “I have to find Marinette. She got hurt trying to save me,” he uttered quietly, his voice quivering and eyes glossy. “If anything happened to her, I don’t think I could–” his voice cracked, unable to continue. He inhaled slowly, then uttered with a trembling voice, “Please, I need to go back. She’s really important to me, I can’t go anywhere else until I know she’s alright.”

Ladybug’s face softened, touched by his concern. “She’s fine!” she blurted out. “Marinette’s fine!”

Adrien gave her a puzzled look. “What?? But how do you know?”

She attempted to give him a reassuring smile, trying her hardest to avoid looking like a demented clown. Think, you knucklehead, think!! Ladybug screamed inwardly in a panic.

“Uhh, she’s the one who contacted me!” she lied, then lowered her voice, as if she were letting him in on some forbidden knowledge. “She’s been secretly helping me and Chat Noir, so I gave her a way to contact me privately in case of emergency. But of course, this has to remain a secret; so please don’t tell anyone.” She helped him to a sitting position on the ground and added, “Can I trust you with this?”

Adrien’s face and posture relaxed, his eyebrows upturned with both amazement and affection. “Always,” he breathed out softly. “You can count on me, always,” he murmured, a kind smile etched on his handsome face as he reached for her hand and squeezed.

Ladybug smiled fondly in return, remembering why it had been so easy to fall in love with him several years ago. He was truly a selfless and sweet person at heart.

He lifted his hand up to her face, rubbing his thumb across a cut on her lower lip and wiping away a spot of blood which, unbeknownst to him, she’d gotten as Marinette. Her breath hitched, face suddenly feeling rather warm.

“It seems like we always meet under less than ideal circumstances,” Adrien chuckled softly. “Fate has a cruel sense of humor sometimes. I’m sorry.”

Ladybug’s stomach tingled, a sense of familiarity descending on her yet again. She must have been staring because Adrien swiftly withdrew his hand with a quick apology, muttering sheepishly how he’d never been very good at recognizing the need for personal space.

Not wanting to make him feel uncomfortable, Ladybug forced herself to pretend to have a functioning brain and smiled politely, helping him to stand and letting him use her as a support. “It’s okay, no worries!” she added amiably. “Would you let me take you back to the school? My yo-yo’s better than a taxi, or so I hear.”

He grinned widely, then nodded. “Yeah. I’d appreciate it.”

Ladybug picked him up, acutely aware that crowds were beginning to gather around the area. As she was about to take off with Adrien, she heard one of the cops call out her name.

“What is it, Officer Raincomprix? Do you have the situation under control? I’m taking Adrien back to the school to get him checked out by a medical professional. You can get a statement from him there, away from the public and from–” she added, an annoyed crinkle forming on her forehead “–from all the reporters. Be on the lookout for any possible akuma.”

Officer Roger Raincomprix’s face was one of pure bewilderment. “Uh– well, ma’am, something’s happened. I’m not sure how to explain. You’d better come take a look for yourself.”

Ladybug and Adrien exchanged puzzled glances, then she nodded as she and Adrien made their way to where she’d detained the kidnappers.

Upon arriving back at the scene of the battle, Ladybug gasped, almost dropping Adrien in shock, with a look on her face like she’d just witnessed an alien invasion.

“WHERE ARE THEY?!” she shrieked. “How did they escape?!?”

“We’re not sure,” Officer Roger stated. “Somebody caught it on camera, maybe you can get some clues from the video.” He called over one of the cameramen from a local news crew. “Rewind it, please,” he instructed him.

Ladybug and Adrien stared at the tiny screen in awe. The two men had been released from the lamppost and were being walked towards the police car in handcuffs. Once they’d almost reached the vehicle, they halted mid-step, then fell to the ground, faces twisting in agony, and they let out a bloodcurdling wail, like their insides were being ripped apart. A cloud of dark, indigo smoke engulfed them, obscuring them completely; and when it cleared, there was nothing.

Ladybug gaped in total confusion. “So they just… disappeared??” she cried. “Vanished without a trace??”

The officer shook his head. “Not entirely. These were left behind,” he added, presenting two small, white feathers.

Ladybug accepted them, even more confused than before. “And you’re absolutely certain you saw no akumas leave their bodies?”

Roger nodded. “Positive. There was nothing else. We’re searching the area for clues; we’ll let you know if we find anything.”

Ladybug exhaled sharply, feeling like she’d been thrown into a freezing lake, the tiny hairs at the back of her neck standing on end. What in the world was happening??

(Mood Music: Ballet from “Orpheus and Eurydice" - Christoph Gluck)

By the time Ladybug had gotten Adrien situated at the school nurse’s, the effects of whatever neuromuscular drug he’d been injected with had waned somewhat, and he’d regained most of the feeling and mobility in his limbs. Since he waved off the need to actually lie down in one of the beds, she helped him sink into a small sofa, adjusting the pillows, fussing over him, asking if he needed a blanket or something to drink. All the while, he kept trying to reassure her that he was fine (although his face did look a bit flushed during this exchange, which didn’t ease her apprehensions).

As the nurse examined his vitals and gave him a quick check-up, Ladybug’s thoughts slowly shifted from doting concern to one of regret and guilt. This was all her fault. She should have listened to Tikki and transformed instead of rushing in headfirst without knowing the full situation.

Her earrings rang out their second beep, reminding her that her time was beginning to run short. She knew she needed to part ways, but a pressing question rooted her to the spot. She couldn’t leave just yet. Not until she knew.

Adrien must’ve sensed her discomfort; as soon as the nurse excused herself to fill out a health report and speak to the police, he touched her arm and asked quietly, “Is everything okay?” He motioned for her to sit next to him, patting the cushion with a friendly gesture.

She complied, trying to appear as calm as possible as she took a seat. “Well, it’s about… earlier,” she began hesitantly, then lowered her head to whisper, “Do you think this had anything to do with those photos of us from a few months back, when we went to the movies together? Maybe the pictures got leaked after all, and the wrong people got ahold of them. I can’t help but feel like that’s why you were targeted.”

Adrien’s eyes popped wide open as he jerked his head up. “Oh, no!! No, it wasn’t!” Adrien replied, arms waving in emphatic denial. He tried to calm his voice again as he continued to insist, “Believe me, it’s not connected to that at all!”

“What?? B-but how are you sure? You can be honest with me; you don’t have to downplay it for my sake,” she insisted. “I accept all responsibility for everything that happened that evening. I should’ve known it was too dangerous and that it would put you at risk. I just want to fix things and make sure what happened today won’t ever happen again.”

“The timing was just a coincidence, I promise,” Adrien assured her, reaching forward and giving her shoulder a squeeze. “This has nothing to do with you... and everything to do with my father,” he added darkly.

Ladybug’s jaw dropped as a realization dawned on her. “Oh no, your father… he’s going to be so upset!! The police have probably already notified him, he must be worried sick!” Ladybug groaned in dismay, her head dropping into her hands, entirely missing the way Adrien’s eyes rolled sardonically. “Would it help if I escorted you to your home myself? Just to make absolutely sure that you arrive home safely? It’s no trouble, really! I’d just need to go recharge real quick and–”

Adrien looked like he’d just been set on fire. “NO!!!’ he cut her off, unable to keep the terror out of his voice. “Please, don’t!!”

Ladybug recoiled back like she’d been slapped in the face, utterly bewildered at his response. Adrien’s hands began to tremble, and he gripped the fabric of his pants to try to keep them still.

“Uhh, what I meant to say was, ‘no thank you, that won’t be necessary.’ M-my Father is, uhh... very particular. Fastidious, really. Someone will drive me back.” He grimaced as if his words tasted bitter, then he exhaled, seeming to compose himself. “I appreciate the offer, it’s very kind of you. But there’s really no need.”

“I… b-but…” she stammered, twiddling with the hem of her skirt, unconvinced. “Are you absolutely, positively sure you’ll be alright?”

Adrien nodded. “I’ll be fine. Trust me.”

Ladybug let out a deep sigh. “Well… alright. Sorry I kept pushing, it’s just…” She bit her lip, trying not to think about the chillingly blank stares of the impostor bodyguards. “It’s just that those men were no ordinary akumas. Actually, I don’t even know if they were ever really human in the first place. Or akumas. Something is very wrong here. I don’t like it.”

She felt Adrien shuffle nervously beside her, and her posture straightened like she’d been smacked with a rod, her head whipping up to meet Adrien’s concerned eyes again.

“Oh goodness, I’m so sorry! I shouldn’t be blabbing all this stuff to you, especially after what you’ve just been through. You’re safe now and I’ll make sure it stays that way, alright? I swear it! So, please try not to worry about it. I’ll discuss this incident with Chat Noir and see if he knows anything about this weird phenomenon, okay? We’ll protect you.” She grinned and took his hands into hers, giving it a gentle squeeze.

An odd look crossed his face, but it shifted into a cordial smile before she could think much of it. “Right. Thanks, Ladybug. I’m sorry you had to get dragged into this.”

Ladybug sputtered, “Not at all! Please don’t be sorry! It’s my job! I was happy to do so! W-well, I mean– not happy you almost got– I mean, obviously not that, but happy that you... that I—“ she stopped her ramblings with a loud, embarrassed facepalm. “Ow. Anyway, you know what I mean,” she finished with a self-deprecating grin.

Adrien was about to reply when the door to the infirmary swung open, crashing into the adjacent wall with a loud bang.

“ADRIEN!!! BRO, ARE YOU OKAY??!” a despondent-sounding Nino rushed to his side, throwing his arms around him without even noticing Ladybug’s presence, a concerned Alya following closely behind.

Adrien hugged him back, touched at his concern. “Nino!! Boy, am I glad to see you! I’m fine, really!”

“You’re not hurt?? You’re really okay?!”

“Of course! I’m fine now, all thanks to Ladybug and Mar— wait…” His head whipped around the room, squinting his eyes as he searched (the action reminding Ladybug that Adrien’s glasses were still missing). “Where’s Marinette? She’s not with you guys?”

Ladybug let out an odd squeak, then tried covering it up with a cough.

Alya shook her head. “I tried calling her, but there’s been no answer. But someone pulled the fire alarm and called the cops, so maybe that was her? I was able to squeeze some info out of one of the officers. He said a young woman called and claimed she saw Adrien Agreste get taken away in a vehicle against his will. He mentioned that she sounded out of breath, almost like she was running or chasing after them. If that doesn’t sound like Marinette, then I don’t know what does.”

Adrien bit the side of his cheek, brows upturned in concern. “She saw us and tried fighting the assailants. She could be injured, I have to go find her,” he said as he stood up, still wobbly but able to do it unassisted.

“NO!!” Ladybug yelped, leaping off the sofa like it was made of hot coals, and they all looked up at her. “I mean, you shouldn’t push yourself. D-don’t worry, I’m sure she’s on her way! You should stay here so she knows where to find you! No sense in having you both running around and potentially missing each other, right?”

Adrien crossed his arms, not quite convinced, but deciding to follow her instructions. “Well… I-I guess. We should try her cell phone again.”

Ladybug continued, words dribbling out like a broken faucet, “Anyhoo, my earrings are about to beep again, so I’d better get going! But you all know how to get a hold of me if anything happens, right guys? Right?? Right... Anyway, bug out!!”

And with that, Ladybug scampered away like a white rabbit late for a tea party.

A few minutes later (the entirety of which Adrien spent answering Nino and Alya’s worried queries as well as filling out a police report) a rather rumpled-looking Marinette quietly entered the room, not wanting to interrupt.

She didn’t stay undetected for long, however. Upon seeing her, Adrien’s features morphed from surprise into joy, followed by relief, then concern. He’d never seen her look quite so… tired .

He must’ve uttered her name out loud because she approached them sheepishly. “Umm… hi. S-sorry, it took me a little while to walk back to the school and my phone ran out of battery on the way. Are you oka––”

Adrien sprung off his seat and shuffled towards her, halfway dragging his still-sluggish legs. He threw his arms around her, clutching her as tight as he could, as if she might disappear again at any second.

“Marinette, thank God,” he cooed, gently cradling the back of her head. “I don’t know how to thank you. If it hadn’t been for you, I would’ve been–”

“You would’ve done the same for me,” she said as she embraced him with matching fervor. “I’m just glad you’re okay now.”

They felt a large thwump as someone wrapped their arms around them, followed by another set of arms joining the pile.

“This most definitely calls for a group hug,” Nino said, squeezing hard.

“Especially after what Adrien told us happened,” Alya added. “Girl, you are so brave! I’m so proud of you!! Ladybug and Chat Noir better watch out or you’ll be stealing their jobs soon!” Adrien heard Marinette let out an amused snort as he and Nino chimed in in agreement.

Now that the danger had passed and the adrenaline had subsided, a moment of calm was exactly what they needed.

As the group pulled apart and he was able to get a better look at her, it was then that Adrien noticed how truly beaten up Marinette appeared, physically. Her hair was out of place, her clothes torn in a few spots, her usual hair accessory was missing, and she was covered in grime, cuts, and bruises.

“Oh, Mari…” he whispered sadly as he slowly turned her head by the chin, gently thumbing a large cut on her lips and ghosting the tips of his fingers over a darkening black eye, moving her hair out of the way.

Marinette then realized that, in the midst of all the commotion, Ladybug had forgotten to use her Miraculous Cure.

Damn it! Screwed up yet another thing today.

She wondered if she could summon another Lucky Charm later today and try to fix things then . She’d never tried using a Lucky Charm outside of battle once the danger had already passed. Would it even work?

Marinette winced. “That bad, eh? Do I have to wear a paper bag over my head for a few days to avoid frightening the children of Paris?” she joked. She instinctively stuck out her tongue to search for the cut on her lip, then flinched when the wetness of her saliva made it sting.

Adrien frowned. “Nonsense. Here,” he said, leading her by the hand back to the sofa. After she sat down, he began gathering some of the first aid materials that the nurse had left on the countertop, then rummaged through the drawers and cupboards for more.

Marinette let out a flustered squeak as he brought the supplies over and pulled up a chair, sitting across from her.

“Oh! Don’t worry about it, it’s totally not necessary,” she said, holding her hands up. “I can take care of it later, it’s no big deal, you should really get some rest–”

Adrien leaned forward in his seat, reaching for her hand. “Please. Let me do this.” he murmured, insistent. “It’s the least I can do.”

Marinette could feel her face getting flushed from all the attention, but didn’t want to argue with him. He was clearly blaming himself for what had happened, and maybe this would be a way to help him feel better, even though it wasn’t his fault whatsoever. She shyly tucked some hair behind her ear, then nodded in consent.

As Adrien treated Marinette’s wounds, they overheard Principal Damocles and Madame Bustier conversing as they walked down the hallway outside of the nurse’s office.

“—And now there isn’t even anyone left behind for Monsieur Agreste to press charges, since the police claim that the perpetrators disappeared into thin air!” Mr. Damocles lamented as he paused in front of the slightly ajar infirmary door. “It’s not like he can sue Ladybug or the authorities for their negligence in capturing the culprits. Or, come to think of it, maybe he can! He is friends with the mayor, after all,” he pondered, continuing his musings. “Regardless, the blame will surely fall upon us!”

“Perhaps this isn’t the time to worry about that, Principal Damocles,” Mme Bustier spoke in a more hushed tone. “Surely M. Agreste must be feeling absolutely distraught after what nearly happened to his son. He’s such a caring and devoted father, always worrying about Adrien’s well-being, especially since his wife’s disappearance. His son is all he has left. We should try to be more considerate.”

“Hmm, yes, I suppose you are correct. Perhaps if we send him a basket of fruit to show our condolences about this incident, he’ll let the whole thing slide and we can avoid a lawsuit.”

“Sir…” Caline Bustier let out a troubled sigh as the two continued down the hallway.

The room was quiet again and Marinette had to work really hard to suppress an irritated groan, as her acting skills were put to the ultimate test of avoiding outwardly cringing at her principal’s misdirected priorities.

Her attention turned back towards Adrien, and at this point she realized that his actions had halted. His arm hovered in mid-air holding a cotton ball soaked in antiseptic, glassy eyes staring blankly at the ground. He looked rather pale, almost like he’d seen a ghost, and his face was downcast, yet somehow still unreadable. She supposed that years of concealing his emotions came naturally for him as well.

Marinette knew that Adrien’s relationship with his father was rather strained, particularly over the past year, with him becoming more and more strict and Adrien having to deal with increasing pressure to maintain a near-impossible standard of conduct. But judging by Adrien’s dramatic shift in mood, she couldn’t help but wonder if there was more to it than that.

She reached forward, lightly touching his opposite forearm to get his attention. His gaze whipped up to meet hers, his eyes revealing an ocean of sorrow. But he cleared his throat and gave her a small smile, that perfect default smile, the one that she hated seeing on him. Then he resumed tending to her various wounds, briefly apologizing for getting distracted.

She noticed in her peripheral vision a miffed-looking Nino pulling Alya to the other side of the room, speaking in hushed tones. She couldn’t hear what they were saying, but it sounded like they were disagreeing about something.

“–You can’t just go around making those kinds of accusations!” Alya hissed, almost too quiet for Marinette to hear. “It’s literally the worst time for that!”

“I won’t!” Nino whispered back. “... For now. But it doesn’t mean I’m gonna stop suspecting him. I’m telling you, he’s not a good dude! If he’s such a ‘perfect’ father, why isn’t he here right now?! After what just happened?” His posture drooped and he crossed his arms. “I just… I’m worried about Adrien, babe. What if he’s not actually okay?” he asked with a slight quiver in his voice.

“Oh, Nino…” Alya’s face softened as she brought him into a tight embrace. “Everything’s gonna be fine, hon. Don’t worry.”

She glanced over and made eye contact with Marinette, giving her a small smile; then she and Nino walked off together to a more secluded area to continue their private conversation.

Adrien finished wrapping up a nasty-looking gash on her shin, which had bled through her pants leg. He’d rolled up the fabric to treat the wound, and was now rolling it back down.

“Thank you, Adrien,” she said quietly. “I should get going, my parents are probably worried; they usually keep the news radio turned on in the bakery, so they’ve probably already heard about what happened.”

Adrien stood when she did. Always a gentleman, she thought with a smile.

“Will you be alright? Can I walk you home?” he asked.

Marinette spluttered incredulously. “You’re asking me if I’m alright?! After all that you just went through??”

He shrugged slightly, giving her a tiny, contrite smile. “Well… you went through it with me. And, as amazing as you are, you’re not unbreakable. I just wanna be there for you like you were for me today. And like every time you’ve been there whenever I needed someone.”

Marinette’s heart thumped loudly in her chest, touched by his concern and gratitude. He spoke so sincerely, and she could sense that many things were left unspoken, and there was a weight behind his words that she couldn’t decipher. “What about your car ride?”

“I…” he faltered slightly. “I’ll tell them to pick me up from your place. No biggie.”

“Well… if you’re sure. The company would be nice,” she relented.

“Great!” he said cheerfully, offering his arm. “You can be my seeing-eye mouse.”

“A what? A seeing-eye mouse?” she giggled. “Actually, that reminds me–” she paused, opening her purse and rummaging through it.

Adrien’s eyes grew wide as she conjured up his missing eyeglasses from within.

“I went looking for them before coming to find you. It was lucky that they were still there, in the locker room. One of the lenses has a small scratch, but they should still work fine until you can buy a new pair.”

Adrien let out a small, incredulous laugh, then put on his glasses. “I can’t believe you went back for them. You’re a lifesaver, Marinette; in so many ways. Thank you.”

Marinette’s face warmed at the compliment, despite trying hard to smolder the remainders of a flame that was once there. She cleared her throat and teased, “Can I still be your seeing-eye dog?”

“You mean, my ‘seeing-eye mouse’!”

She raised an amused eyebrow. “Why a mouse?”

“You’d be a mouse ‘cause you’re little and cute!”

Marinette blew a raspberry as she giggled. “You’re such a dork! Alright, I’ll do it, but you’d better be there when I need someone to fetch something from the top shelves!”

Adrien chuckled and gave her a wink. “That’s a promise.”

–––––

As some of you correctly guessed: YES! The peacock miraculous was used to create sentimonsters in the image of Adrien's old bodyguard to deceive him and take him back to Gabriel.

There's some plot decisions I have to make (whether to follow my original outline of what comes next or if I need to tweak some things to improve the flow of the story), so it's back to "normal" updates again, but I'll do my best to update a bit more consistently :)

[kozumekenza]

house of memories :: four

:: kageyama tobio x f!reader :: playlist :: masterlist ::

:: taglist: open :: wc: 2.3k ::

the last you had heard of kageyama tobio, he was following his grandfather’s footsteps and leaving you behind to join the syndicate. a chance meeting throws him back into your life, along with all of the memories.

tw: mafia elements, profanity, blood, gunshot wound, kidnapping, implied drug use (marijuana)

a/n: posting an hour early :)

“I’m sorry. I can’t.”

Simple words, and predictable ones, but his heart still hurts. He knew this, he knew it was coming, he knew what you would say, he prepared himself for it, so why does it feel like his world is crashing down? He’s leaving you, but he guesses you’re leaving him first. The thought brings him comfort. He didn’t want to involve you in this, as much as it hurts watching you walk away. He should be thankful that you’re breaking his heart and not the other way around. He should be thankful that you’ll hopefully hold this against him for the rest of his life. He should be thankful that you will never know the cold steel of a gun, the glint of an attacker’s knife. 

You’re long gone by now, probably tucked into bed. He’s right where you left him, although he is no longer staring at the spot where you were standing. Now, he’s watching the moonlight on the water. The world looks cast in melancholy blue; a beautiful setting for his final night and a tearful goodbye.

He is thankful for this last chance to see you; to memorize your features and commit them all to memory. He is thankful for the tears on his face, as he will not be allowed to show them in the future. He is thankful for all the emotions that he is currently feeling; he savors them, knowing that when he wakes up tomorrow, they will be long gone; suppressed forever. 

---

You’re up and running before you even have the chance to fully grasp the situation at hand. There’s blood, so much blood; Miwa’s calling to you, but you can’t hear her. There’s only the pounding of your heart in your ears and the four years worth of schooling you’ve received; racking your brain for any and all useful information. 

“I need all the medical supplies you have; a first aid kit, bandages, forceps, scissors.” You pray that Miwa is listening, that your voice is projecting. “I know we probably can’t take him to the hospital, but if you have a doctor you normally see for stuff like this, call them.”

You press your hands to the wound. From what you can tell, it’s a bullet wound towards the bottom left of Kageyama’s chest. His heart is still beating and his breathing is slow, but steady, and you allow yourself a moment to be thankful that his lung hasn't collapsed. You focus on your next steps: stopping the bleeding, fully assessing the severity of the wound, and stabilizing Kageyama somewhere that isn’t the foyer’s floor. 

Miwa drops down next to you with what you hope are sterile rags. “I called our doctor, she’ll be here soon.” She unwraps the plastic covering and hands you the rags, and you press them to Kageyama’s chest. “If we can just stop the bleeding, he’ll be fine.”

You can’t help but shiver at the thought that this isn’t the first time something like this has happened. 

---

Kageyama Tobio is used to being shot at, but the bullets rarely meet their mark. Unfortunately, due to his own stupidity, this one does. 

He curses as he runs to his car and jams the keys into the ignition. The fleeting thought that the blood will be a pain to get out of the seats crosses his mind, but he shakes his head and it’s gone. His only goal now is to get back to the penthouse. Miwa will know what to do. 

When he stumbles in, feeling faint, his exhausted brain short-circuits at the sight of you. He falls to the floor as his vision blurs, feeling slightly thankful that if he dies tonight, at least the last thing he saw was you.

---

He knows he’s dreaming, that he’s drifting in and out of consciousness. He dreams of his childhood spent by your side, he dreams of your final goodbye. Even when he thinks he’s awake, he knows he must be dreaming, because you’re here, holding his hand and sitting by his side. He tries to reach out, to brush the tears off of your cheeks, but he can’t. He feels as if he’s failed you again.

---

The doctor is nice, a woman in her late twenties named Kiyoko. She performs her duties clinically, allowing you to help where you can and reassuring Miwa that everything will be fine. When the bullet is finally removed and Kageyama is stitched up, you collapse into a chair next to his bed.

You watch him carefully as Miwa flits around the penthouse, cleaning up and moving around Kageyama’s appointments for the next few weeks to allow him time to recover. You hold his hand in your own and rest your head on the side of the bed.

You were terrified tonight, you’ll admit it. You aren’t quite sure how you kept your cool and focused on the task at hand. You’re thankful that he is still breathing, that his heart is still beating. 

If you hadn’t walked away, would this be the norm for you? Would you be accustomed to Kageyama coming home bleeding and half-dead? You don’t know how you would cope in a situation like that, unsure if Kageyama would come home in one piece or even come home at all. The thought terrifies you; knowing that for these past four years, there were times where he was injured and you had no clue, and that he will most likely continue to get hurt in the future.

Is it better or worse to be here for it, to be aware? Is it better to know and be there for him while enduring the pain of it all, or is it better to be blissfully unaware, back to your normal life where you know his job is a risk, but you aren’t involved?

---

The man is thrilled at all of the information contained in a tiny computer file. Better than he ever could have imagined; giving him the ability to hurt his enemy is the worst possible way - through the people he cares about. 

It’s a low blow, even in this world, but what can he do? He’s run out of options. His enemy’s reign over Tokyo has encroached too far into his own territory, and has been occurring for far too long. 

You’re an easy target; far better than attempting anything with his sister. She has the knowledge and power of the underworld to wield against him, but you, you, are perfect. No skills with a weapon, no comprehension of how things work in this world. 

An innocent, perfect girl for him to corrupt. 

He grins at the thought. 

---

When Kageyama’s eyes finally open in the early hours of the morning, you almost burst into tears. You knew that he was physically fine; the wound would hurt, but was stitched and bandaged and fixed. You didn’t know how it would take a toll on the rest of his body. Some people suffer traumatic injuries and don’t wake up for days, months, years, ever. 

You grin as Kageyama slowly opens his eyes, assessing the room around him. 

“Y/n?” His voice is weak, but he’s awake. Alive. 

“Yeah?” You’re still holding his hand, leaning on your arm as you reach for his forehead to check his body temperature.

“You’re here.”

He’s clearly still a little out of it, and you can tell that his brain is trying to piece together the picture of you before him. You laugh a little before you answer, “Of course I’m here. Where else would I be?”

His face is blank and he’s completely impassive when he says, “Not here.”

Miwa walks in to you laughing at Kageyama, who clearly does not understand why you’re laughing at him. She rushes over to him when she sees that he’s awake, gently hugging him.

“Tobio, thank god you’re alright. I was so fucking worried about you, you little shit.” She slaps his shoulder lightly, causing him to wince. 

You step away to give them some privacy, heading out to get some water and pain meds from the kitchen, but as you cross the threshold of the bedroom, Kageyama speaks up. “Y/n, are you leaving?”

The ache in his voice is obvious, and it sends a pang to your heart. “I’m just going to get some water and medication for you.”

He’s smiling a little when he turns back to Miwa. “Okay, good.”

---

The next few weeks are fine, generally speaking. You spend the majority of your time at Kageyama’s penthouse, watching over his recovery and hanging out with Miwa. Hana becomes a bit suspicious when she notices you’re away from home more than you’re there, but you simply say that you met an old friend at the club that night and you’ve been hanging out with them. It’s not necessarily a lie, and she buys it regardless; she’s so busy with Ushijima and school that you doubt she really notices how much you’re missing anyway. 

Most days, Miwa or Kageyama’s driver picks you up from the university in the afternoon, and you spend the rest of your evening in the penthouse. Sometimes, you sit by Kageyama’s bed and do homework while he rests, which most of the time ends up being a fight to get him to stay in bed while he insists he’s well enough to work. Other days, mostly when Kageyama is too tired to put up much of a fight, you hang out with Miwa, watching movies or cooking dinner together. 

It surprises you, just how easily you fit into their lives. Miwa says so as well, telling you that it has to be fate; there’s no way that someone could adjust to their lifestyle as quickly and as well as you do. You spend a lot of time thinking; you don’t mind being with them, in fact, you cherish your time at the penthouse. Kageyama’s job doesn’t phase you as much anymore. You don’t think about it when you spend time with him or Miwa, instead, you think about how appreciative you are for their roles in your life. 

Most recently, you’ve started helping Miwa with a task she deems “Mission: Impossible”. Apparently, Kageyama is disastrous when it comes to organization, so she’s taking the opportunity of him being bedridden to organize his office and the rest of the house. You don’t bat an eye when you and Miwa categorize what she refers to as the “weapons closet” or even when you come across files of all the hits that Kageyama has ever put out. The only thing that even makes you pause is when you come across Kageyama’s secret stash of marijuana.

“Really?” You hold the plastic bag up in one hand, your other hand on your hip. “Blunts?”

Kageyama just groans, sitting up. “If you and Miwa weren’t going through all my shit, you never would’ve found it.”

“Your shit is a mess! When was the last time you organized anything in this house?”

Kageyama brings his hand up, scratching the back of his hand. “Uh, never?”

“I can’t believe you.” You collapse onto the chair next to his bed, tossing the bag to him. “Now where’s the lighter?”

---

When Kageyama is finally cleared by Kiyoko to go back to work, you think that you won’t be seeing him and Miwa as often. You assume that they’ll be busy with whatever it is they do normally, so it comes as a surprise when you see Kageyama waiting for you after your last class. 

He’s leaning on a black McLaren Artura, turned away from you as he talks on the phone. You stop on the steps of your lab building, pausing to look at him while he’s not paying attention. After seeing him in sweats and t-shirts with messy hair for weeks while he recovered, it shocks you to see him in formal attire again. The late fall chill embraces you as you survey the black jeans and dark jacket, the wind-whipped hair and gold chain peeking out from beneath his collar. It’s times like these when your breath fully leaves you at how attractive Kageyama is. He’s receiving many stares, whether it’s from the boys checking out his car or the girls checking out him. He remains oblivious as always, talking pointedly into the phone until he spots you. 

He hangs up and opens the Artura’s door for you when you approach. You can feel the whispers surrounding you, but you ignore them in favor of sticking your chilling fingers in front of the car’s heat vent. Kageyama starts the car and peels out of the parking lot.

“I’m surprised to see you today. I thought you would’ve been busy on your first day back.”

He shrugs, giving a noncommittal hum. “It was mostly boring shit, meetings and such. I was completely over it by noon, so Miwa took over the last few for me.”

“You’re done already?” It’s only four in the afternoon, and you know he normally works much, much later than that.

“Done for now. I’ll go into the club later tonight to check on a few things, but that’s at least interesting.”

“Hm.” Looking out the window, you notice that you’re not heading towards the penthouse. “Where are we going?”

“I’m taking you out.”

You choke on air; as someone with Kageyama’s career, this could mean one of two things. “O-on a date?”

“Yeah,” he glances at you, “what else would that mean?”

“You don’t want to know what I was thinking.”

“Damn, y/n, I’m not going to kill you.” The wry smile on his face warns you of his upcoming words. “That would get blood on my seats.”

“Haha.” You roll your eyes and punch him lightly on the shoulder. “But really, you’re taking me out on a date? You didn’t even ask.”

“Well it’s more of a ‘thank you for nursing me back from the dead and helping Miwa’ date, but it can also be a real date, if you want that.”

The slight nervousness in his voice makes you grin. Only Kageyama could shoot someone in cold blood and be afraid to ask a girl out. “Okay.”

You watch as he glances at you out of the corner of his eye, a sly smile on his face. “Okay?”

“Okay.”

taglist: @lilith412426​ @itoshibaby​ @wallywaffle​ 

[lorei-writes]

Blue Ribbon [of Fate]

Masamune x MC Smut

Word estimate: 2.2k

...He would just... look... good this way...

Contents / Content Warnings: dominant MC, (slight) bondage, blindfold, sex while injured, blow job(s), vaginal sex, pain mention, injury mention

A stolen humm of approval, a stray gasp as her teeth nibbled on his skin, her breath growing hotter. Mai sat up straight without a single note of a warning, his eye snapping open and staring at her in surprise… She, however, refused to answer the quizzical look, the tip of her finger beginning its journey at his jaw, tracing the path down his neck, stopping only at the very edge of the collar of his yukata, all to tap it lightly. “I do not plan on letting you out of bed in the near future. How you spend this time is up to you…” she hummed quietly. “And if I wanted to spend it with you?” “Then, of course, I’d have no choice but to oblige… On several conditions, that is.”

The scent of desinfectant rose into the air, the smell being both familiar and jarring, especially when put right below his nostrils. A cloth dabbing liquid pain into his broken lip, Masamune closed his eye and forced his muscles to relax, the burning sensation spreading down the side of his face alongside the touch of his lover, then carefully inspecting all his bruises and minor cuts. He let out a reliefed sigh, her fingers tracing a path down his neck and over to his chest, skilfully avoiding the few sore spots scattered in their way.

She pushed, and he fell, although he wasn’t quite sure as for why, his back hitting the soft futon below them before he even got a chance to wonder. Masamune opened his eye, Mai staring down at him, concern mixed with… Something he was not quite sure of. “What’s the –” he cut off sharply, her teeth grazing his neck, her lips searching for his pulse and latching onto it, a red mark soon blooming where they laid. She, however, pulled away, her cheak brushing against his. “You have no idea how scared I was when your letters stopped coming and all we had were rumours,” she whispered. An arm by his head supporting her, Mai straightened her back slowly, tilting her head as to meet his gaze. “I’m so… I just…You’re back,” she let out finally, dropping lower again. “Kitten –” he tired again, fervent kisses spilling over the line of his jaw, from his cheeks to his nose, forehead, eyelids, her touch a feather when at the corner of his mouth, not daring to go any further.

A stolen humm of approval, a stray gasp as her teeth nibbled on his skin, her breath growing hotter. Mai sat up straight without a single note of a warning, his eye snapping open and staring at her in surprise… She, however, refused to answer the quizzical look, the tip of her finger beginning its journey at his jaw, tracing the path down his neck, stopping only at the very edge of the collar of his yukata, all to tap it lightly. “I do not plan on letting you out of bed in the near future. How you spend this time is up to you…” she hummed quietly. “And if I wanted to spend it with you?” “Then, of course, I’d have no choice but to oblige… On several conditions, that is.” “Several conditions?” Masamune asked, propping himself on his elbow and sitting up a moment later. “Yes, since you’re quite beaten up and I really do think you should rest. I want to take the lead today.” His grin appeared gentler than usual, perhaps for the fact that he had to subside it, lest he wished for his lip to break open anew. “Is that all?” “No,” Mai replied, cupping his face. “Second condition: do not even try to kiss me. No touching or moving without permission either.” Masamune nodded in reply, half-consciously leaning into her hand, her thumb brushing against the edge of his scar. “And lastly, I have a question: blue or red?” Not quite understanding how the matter could connect to their plans, he raised his eyebrows, her smile confusing him further, her thumb venturing over to the unscatched part of his lip. “Haven’t I told you I’d tie you up if you returned so tattered again?” she hummed, withdrawing her hand. “So?” “Blue.” Masamune swallowed thickly.

A moment passed before she returned, a pair of scissors and a roll of thick shiny ribbon in her hands. Unhurriedly, she straddled him, Masamune leaning back as she returned to her caresses, reaching below his collar, daring touch forcing it to open, deft fingers tracing the contours of his body. Her teeth grazed his collarbone, the obi keeping his yukata closed unwiding before he even realised – her nails in his shoulders, Mai pushed him down with what force she had. “Hands,” she demanded, her back straightening as she made herself comfortable, the fabric of her robe barely covering her legs. He obliged nearly immediately, the slight delay causing her to click her tongue.

Blue ribbon forcing his wrists to come together, she tied the ends of it into a bow, a content smile coming over her face as she pulled onto the fabric lightly, a flick of her finger urging him to let them rest above his head. “Aren’t you afraid I’ll break free?” “I have an odd inkling you are right where you want to be,” she hummed, her hand pulling onto his hair as to tilt his head back. Mai bit lightly onto his neck, her tongue sliding over his Adam’s apple. “Unless you’d rather flee from me?” she whispered against his skin. “No,” he rasped. “No?” “No, my Empress.” “That’s my Masamune,” she laughed, grinding against his cock hard as to reward him, the – much dreaded – fabric still standing in the way.

Masamune gasped, her lips descending down the length of his body, fresh marks blooming in their wake, accompanied by traces of her teeth. His muscles tensed, her breath tickling his stomach, few kisses more bringing her even lower. “What would you want me to do?” she asked, eyes fixated on him as she stroke his dick through the fabric. “I –” he groaned, her grip on him suddenly tightening. “You?” “I would like for you to take it into your mouth, my Empress,” he blurted out, and she granted his wish, her lips closing around him the moment the last word sounded off. Slowly, she took him deeper and sucked hard, pulling back the moment she heard him moan. “You’re rather vocal today,” Mai noted, licking the head of his cock lazily. “Should I stop?” “No. Don’t you dare.” She sunk low again, a hum answering her as she entered a steady rhythm, entirely focused on earning herself more of his praise.

His cock twitched, and she pulled away instantly, his hips unmoving despite the pained expression on his face. Careful as not to touch him, Mai straddled his waist, gazing down with a smirk. “What is it? Weren’t you enjoying my service?” she teased, stroking his cheek tenderly. “I was, my Empress.” “Then what’s the sour face for? Did you think you’d be allowed to finish just yet?” “Yes,” he let out a shaky breath, her nails scraping against his scalp. “Selfish thing,” Mai feigned a disdained sigh. “I want some of the pleasure for myself too… Although you can’t provide in your usual ways,” she continued, her gaze anchored in his lips. “Does it hurt?” “No.” Mai nodded absent-mindedly,  reaching behind herself as to give him a few pumps. “Good,” she hummed, sliding down his body.

Her fingers curled around the base of his cock, and she sunk onto him in one motion, her impatience showing in how wet she was. Her robe spread further as she rode him, her body tilted back for his dick to hit the one spot that sent elecricity through her. Her hands over his thighs, she let herself look away, her eyes soon closing just regardless – and he watched, his dick glistening whenever it emerged from between her folds, her pussy beautifully exposed, the collar of her yukata sliding open bit by bit. Her command was clear, for him not to even dare shy away from using his voice, so he let his praises be known, Mai humming alongside him as her walls grew tighter, sweat coming onto her skin and causing her to glow. Her pace grew frantinc, nearly disorganised, each breath a whimper in disguise…

Her hand slipped, her thumb pressing too close to the bandage, a jolt of pain surging up his leg. Masamune held back a wince, yet his muscles tensed regardless, her gaze mildly confused – and for all he could tell, she was so close, only falling down from her heights due to the minor mistake and the concern it caused… He jerked his hips up, rellying more so on his good leg, Mai falling forward as gaps spilled from her lungs. A few thrusts, although also a few too many, her eyes closing, her clothes in utter disarray… She clenched around him, her walls pulsing rhythmically.

Mai sat up abruptly, his cock still inside of her. “Up. Now,” she demanded, her eyes narrowing. Having drawn his arms to rest in front of his chest, Masamune obliged. “What have you done?” “I broke the rule, my Empress,” he replied, hardly remoresful. She bit onto his ear. “Which rule?” “ ‘Do not move without my permission’.” “So you were well aware of it? My, my…” she sighed, pulling back. “Close your eye.” He accepted his punishment without question, his world hiding behind the ribbon, a knot at the back of his head securing it in place, cool fabric sliding around his neck as well, dropping down by a bit as she tied a bow on him. She pushed onto his shoulders and he fell again, his cock falling out of her, her hips rising only to grind against him a moment later. Her hand appeared on his cheek, the thumb tracing the outline of his lips. “You’re so beautiful now, I almost wish you could see yourself,” she whispered, whitdrawing from him completely.

Masamune listened in closely. Her steps, somewhere around, quieting at a gradual pace… Was she movng away from him? To where? Something rustled and fell soundlessly – and she came near again, her skin brushing against his, warm breasts touching his chest. “Or maybe I should leave you like this and just longue around the way I am? Tease you a little, perhaps?” she laughed, his cock twitching against her stomach. “What do you think of that?” “Cruel.” “Oh? Too cruel for your punishment, you say?” “It’s cruel enough already since I can’t see you, my Empress,” Masamune replied.

His heart sunk, her warmth disappearing from him at once. Did he give the wrong answer? He strained his hearing, something moving by his good leg, her hair tickling him slightly as she traced her nails over the skin below his navel… Masamune groaned, his lover taking his cock deep into her mouth, her head beginning to move in a well-practised rhythm. Her fingers playing with his balls, she worked him relentlessly, methodical in spoiling him with each thing she learnt of him in the years they spent together. Up and down, she caressed him with her tongue, the period of separation they had endured turning his gasps all the sweeter – and she nearly dared be malicious and leave him again, her name sneaking into his moans being the only thing convinving her to stay. Just a little more, a little… A warning came from him, but she ignored it, his cock soon pulsing in her mouth as he came. Bitterness spreading over her tongue, she swallowed it all the same, for the lack of any better alternative at the time.

Mai slowly stretched her back, perhaps a few breaths passing before she moved as to untie his hands. “Can you turn on your side?” she asked, smoothing out the few minor lines left over his wrists with her thumb. “Yeah,” Masamune answered, wincing slightly as he moved and attempted to make himself comfortable. Careful as not to cause him any more pain, she removed the last few ribbons, his eye snapping open. His hand on her wrist, he pulled her into his arms before she even realised, her body flush against his. “The moment I let you lose, you pounce on me, really,” she laughed quietly, her hand on his shoulder. “I would have to be a fool not to, my Empress,” he hummed into her ear. “What would you say if I tied you up one day? I bet you’d look glorious in red…” “Get well first,” Mai snorted, pushing herself away from him. “And more importantly, we need to talk. I told you not to move, haven’t I?” she asked, staring him in the eye. “I wanted you to feel good too.” “I don’t want to come if it makes you hurt, understood?” she stated firmly, cupping his face in a gentle manner, her thumb brushing against the bruise over his cheek. “I know you care about me a lot, but, please, care more for yourself too. I love you, both when you’re leading, and when I take the lead, and when you’re –” she stopped abruptly, his arm hooking around her waist and pulling her forward. “Now you’ve done it, kitten, I swear,” Masamune murmured into her hair, his face feeling oddly hot, embarrassment winning against his tiredness. “My, my, I don’t tell it to you enough if you stop being used to it so fast,” Mai giggled, embracing him back. “Do you want to nap?” “We should wash up first,” he sighed. “I can go first, come here with a basin and wake you up?” “Yhmm…” was the only reply she got, his breathing growing gradually deeper.

Time passed, damp hair falling over the fresh yukata she donned. Having propped the basin on her hip, Mai slid the door to their room open, shy puffs of air coming from behind the folding screen. A gentle smile on her face, she stepped forward, soon setting the dish onto the tatami mats, few drops of water escaping past the rim. Perhaps it was out of habit, perhaps it was simply some odd impulse - whichever it was, she reached forward, her hands searching in the dark until her fingers tangled in the discarder ribbon. Somewhat surprised, Mai followed along its length, the fabric leading to where her lover lay.

Tag list: @nad-zeta, @cheese-ception , @tsubaki3192 , @rikumorimachisgirl Notes: After a bit of internal debate, I decided to tag only people I know for smut, only if they 18 or older. (It is strictly for the sake of peace of my mind). Thanks for your consideration ^^”

[bucksbabybug]

Hi! Can i request a Steve x reader . Where the reader is Tony’s sister / the avengers personal nurse? Her and Steve like each other but never act on it besides flirting here and there . Steve gets pretty injured on a mission and reader has to work on him (even tho he’s a super soldier he still needs some help lol) and she confesses her love to him cause she thinks he can’t hear her or something lol. I’m in the mood for pure fluff and friends to lovers.

Hey! I hope you like this, it’s my first time writing again in a long time! Thank you for requesting! 💛

Also, very sorry this is so late. I’m trying to write again and it’s hard to think of things after so long. I hope you like it if not, I’ll redo :)

Y/N’s POV

*Talking in your head* Just gotta finish restocking this med-bay and I can go take a break. I was gathering up my things until I heard a “Hey!” And jumped. “Oh my god Steve! You scared the hell out of me.”

“Sorry Doc” he said while laughing.

“Something tells me you aren’t.” I say while laughing.

Giggling he says “oh definitely not, I like scaring you.” Walking over to put the gauze box back into the closet I say “Captain America being mean?! Wow I never thought I’d see the day.” I say while smiling.

“Well you’re seeing it sweetheart. Now come here and say goodbye, I’ve got a mission, but I want to see my favorite doctor before I go.”

Blushing at the nickname, I say “Ha ha very funny.” I say while walking over. “Gimme a hug “sweetheart” and it’s not goodbye, it’s see you later.” You say while hugging him. God I really hope he can’t feel my heart beating right now.

“Oo sweetheart now? Glad to know we’re on nickname basis.” He says while smirking

“You started it Mr. Rogers, and besides, you like it.” Biting my lip I look at him and he rolls his eyes. God I really can’t believe I’m being this foreword.

“You better be safe Rogers, or I’ll have my brother after you real quick.”

“Y/N/N, Tony already wants to kill me, I may or may not have put coffee grounds in the garbage disposal.”

“This is the fifth time Steven, anymore and he will actually kick your ass.”

“Yeah yeah okay, I’ll just have to have you make me coffee, and make yourself some and drink it with me, how ‘bout that sweetheart?”

Giggling nervously you say “O-okay, yeah sure.”

“Alright “doll” I’ll see you later.” He squeezes my hand and walks out the doors towards the elevator.

“Bye Stevie, be safe!” I yell down the hall.

“Will do sweetheart, I have you to come home to now don’t I.”

With that, the elevator door closes. And you whisper, “Yes you do, always.”

A few hours later

After my my break, the ER emergency alarm went off and FRIDAY spoke:

“Doctor Y/L/N, you are needed stat in the medical wing, Captain Rogers is severely injured.”

“Oh fuck” throwing down your book, you run to the medical bay, finding an unconscious Steve and a worried Bucky.

Trying not to startle Bucky even more you ask him calmly “What happened?”

“H-he jumped in front of me, trying to stop a car being thrown at me. After he was knocked down, a wizard, warlock whatever the hell it was, threw him through a building.” While talking, Bucky is trying not to break. His best friend is the closest thing he has to family.

“Okay, everything is going to be alright, I need you to put him on the stretcher, and then go to the waiting room. I know you want to be here but I need you to go wait and calm down, after I get him stable, I will come see you.” As you’re talking, and Bucky put him on the stretcher, you use the scissors to cut his suit.

Steve is in bad shape, he has four huge gashes. One on his abdomen. One on his thigh. One on his chest. And the scariest is the one on his face.

Grabbing gauze, sutures, and disposable pans, you get to work, removing the glass in the worst wound. You started to clean them and stitch them up. Trying to do so in a way that there would be little to no scarring. After cleaning and stitching Steve up, I called Dr. Cho to do imaging to see if there is any internal bleeding. Thankfully, there was none so all that was left to do was to transfer Steve to a new, clean bed, put him on fluids, and console a worrisome team.

Walking out, the waiting room is filled with everyone. All looking worried and thinking to worst.

“Firstly, Steve will make a steady recovery. Secondly, the gashes he had, we’re deep and jagged but I cleaned and stitched them. The bruises on his head along with the cut may point to a mild concussion. This being said, keep the lights down in his room here and his personal room when he is transferred. I will program FRIDAY to follow Steve so wherever he goes, the lights will dim. He will be off of missions for a month, even with his super healing, head concussions are serious so I want him on light duty. As of now, Steve is still unconscious, he will wake up but not for a little while. One to two people can go visit him, talk to him, hold his hand, just be mindful of the stitches and bruises.”

“So he will be alright?.” Bucky asked.

“Yes Buck, he will be alright.” You said smiling softly.

“Anything else doc?” Tony said smirking. “You’re very thorough when it comes to Capsicle.”

Blushing you say “I’m thorough will all my patients thank you very much Anthony.”

“Oh I’ve been full named. “Alright, Barnes go first, go by yourself or take someone. The rest of us will file in shortly.”

After everyone came in and sat with Steve, they all but Bucky went back to their respective rooms. You had to basically push Bucky towards the elevator to get him to go clean up as he didn’t wash up before and just waited in the waiting room.

Throughout this whole ordeal, you were so worried about the teams anxiety of Steve’s wellbeing and making sure Steve was going to recover that you didn’t have time to process what happened to him. Just now it hit you how serious his injuries are. You could have lost him. Everyone could have lost him.

Walking to Steve’s recovery room felt like a blur. It looked like a blur as well, with the tears in your eyes. You sat next to his bed on the chair, reaching out to hold his hand. You left the tears fall.

“God Stevie, you have me so worried. When I heard that it was you who was injured, I blacked out. I needed you to be okay. I need you here with me. I always say see you later and never goodbye because I can never say goodbye to you. It would kill me, if I lost you. Seeing you..like this, made me realize something that I’ve been trying to ignore. I realized that I love you. I love everything about you Stevie. I love how even if you don’t realize it, you look for the best in people, even if they don’t deserve it. You help anyone and everyone. You give your all and more. Even though it landed you in this situation, you sacrifice yourself for others. I love everything and anything about you.”

Sniffling, you get up to leave but your hand is grasped tighter, signaling that Steve is awake and alright… and that he might have heard you.

Panicking, you lay go of his hand and walk towards the door.

“Hey Doll.”

You turn around to see Steve smiling at you.

“Hey Stevie, you feeling alright? Do you need anything?”

“I’m as best as I can be now doll but I would like to talk a little.” He says smiling softly.

“Oh, alright but before we talk, I still have a job to do, I need to check your vitals now that you’re awake.”

Walking around him, you’re trying to stall as long as possible, pretending to mess up taking his pulse to avoid the conversation.

“Alright, your vitals look great. I’m just gonna go and-

“Sweetheart I think you’re forgetting something.”

“And what would that be Steve?”

“I asked you to talk to me, you’re a doctor you know, you should remember things easily.”

“Oh right and hey, I remember things just fine for your information.” Giggling softly, you go to sit in the chair.

“I heard you.” Is all he says

Thinking the worst you say “oh my god Steve, I’m so, so sorry. I know you probably don’t feel the same way and the flirting if that’s even what you’re doing doesn’t mean anything and I probably freaked you out I-

“Woah woah woah, doll, calm down alright? Let me finish okay? Smiling he continues. “I heard you and I love you more doll. I truly do. I think you’re one of a kind. There is no one else like you. I’ve never met anyone like you.”

Stunned you look at him surprised.

“This is so not how I wanted to tell you Stevie.”

“I know doll but at least you know I love you and I know you love me. So I can finally ask you on a date.”

“I’d love that Stevie.”

“Good now come here.” Opening his arms to you.

Careful not to hurt him or touch and of the wounds, you lightly huh him. As you pull away you come face to face with him. His eyes flicker down towards your lips and yours do the same. Making the first move, the slowly leans in. You do as well, and your lips meet. It feels normal. Not like a bad and bland normal but like you were meant to do this forever, with him. It felt like you could never and will never get enough. He felt like home.

Pulling away for air. You softly smile at him, biting your lip and looking down.

“Don’t get bashful on me now sweetheart.”

Rolling your eyes “Shut up Rogers, it’s your fault for making me this way.”

“As long as I’m the only one making you blush, I’m completely fine with that.”

Laughing you say “Only you Stevie.”

“Good, now when can I leave?”

“Oh not for awhile Rogers, you’re off missions for a month then light duty.”

“Already overprotective I see.”

“No just… thorough.”

He laughs and you say “I’m going to notify the team you’re awake.”

After notifying the team that Steve was awake. Bucky was the first down there.

While your three were talking, you heard the elevator ding then a loud voice rang through the hall “Steven Grant Rogers!” Tony’s voice.

“Uh Steve what did you do?”

“Remember what I told you this morning?”

You run to lock the door before Tony gets into Steve’s room. Not worried that he would hurt Steve but to annoy him.

Giggling you say “Oh you’re in deep shit.”

“Oh yeah you are.”

Once again, I hope you like this. I’m an so sorry that it took so long. Getting into writing again is difficult for me and I had to find my groove again lmao. :)

Not proofread, sorry for any mistakes.

[vampyrsutton]

Flightless Raven

Hey all. This is a commission from @wombatking for an Injured!Raven X Starfire. There will be angst, but also fluff and quite a bit of info-dumping due to me doing a lot of research not wanting to mess up writing a disability. Links for that will be at the end for those interested! Enjoy!

“I got it!", Raven called as the beachball flew her way.

It was one of the Titans’ rare days off and Beast and Starfire had insisted they all go to the beach. Raven had pretended to protest when they tried to get her to leave the shade of her umbrella to come and play in the water, but she knew that the second her girlfriend turned her big green puppy eyes on her, she was getting in the water.

She jumped to hit the ball back to her team, but when she went to push off the seafloor, her foot found a patch of algae slick rocks and she went under. She immediately tried fighting to resurface, but a riptide caught her and fought against her to keep her under.

“Ra~n!” She could vaguely hear her teammates trying to reach her, and caught a flash of pink hair when she momentarily resurfaced only to be dragged down again.

She dared to open her eyes when under and spotted a green shark speeding towards her that she really should have recognized as Beast Boy, but in her panic, she didn’t and instead used her powers to propel herself away from the shark and, unfortunately, into a large rock.

Hard.

Raven blacked out. She would later recall the feeling of arms wrapping around her and hoisting her limp body from the water, then vague memories of beeping and her friends’ and girlfriend’s voices, but otherwise, nothing.

It wouldn’t be until several days later that she finally wakes up to a blinding light shining down on her. She immediately tries to shield her eyes from the harsh fluorescents, only to realize that she can’t. Raven begins to panic as she tried to feel if maybe she was strapped down, but all this did was make her realize she couldn’t feel her body from the neck down...no that wasn’t quite right. It felt like her whole body from the neck down fell asleep, but she can’t move anything to wake it back up.

She didn’t even hear Starfire’s excited rambling as she kept trying to move. The next thing she knows, she’s surrounded by her friends. She thinks Starfire is holding her hand, but she can’t feel it! Just a shift in the pins and needles feeling.

“Raven! You’re awake!” Robin smiles.

“RAVEN!” Cyborg was crying and snotting everywhere, but given the circumstances, no one really cares.

“I thought I didn’t get to you in time!” Beast Boy was in a similar state.

“Indeed, we were most worried!” Starfire sniffs, holding Raven’s hand to her chest protectively. The fact Raven could now see the hand was the only reason Raven could even tell.

Raven was still internally freaking out, but her friends’ combined chaos and talking over each other was oddly comforting, and grounded her enough for her to try speaking.

“Wha-?” She grimaces at how dry her throat is but tried again. “What happened?”

The fact that her voice sounded like a drunk asthmatic who just n a mile only worried her more as she slurred and wheezed through even those two words.

“You slipped on a rock we think, and the ripping tide kept you under,” Starfire answers, the only one close enough to hear her over the boys’ blubbering.

“I tried to get to you, but I think you were panicking ‘cause you blasted yourself away and knocked yourself out on a rock.” Beastboy jumps in, giving the underwater play-by-play through his worried blubbering. “I turned into a dolphin and sped us to shore.”

Their words lined up with what she could remember, but she still frowns. “I-... Why can’t I -- feel my body?-- It feels like--everything is asleep or-- I’m made of funny bones?”

Everyone looked away or down sadly making her panic return.

Robin was the one to sigh and speak up. “You hit the back of your neck on the rock. A few healing powers and experts have come through to try and heal the injury, but it’s such a precise spot that they couldn’t do anything.” Their leader slumps in defeat that mirrors Raven’s own. “I’m sorry to say, but you’re paralyzed from the neck down. C4 injury one of them said. The best we’ve been able to figure out is Gizmo and Cyborg collaborating to make you a wheelchair to try and give you some form of independence. Hopefully, your powers can fill in some gaps, but we don’t know if those have been affected too?”

Raven stares at him in horror before her eyes glow white and her hand black. They all watched as it seemed to move away from Starfire slightly before smacking limply back against her purple crop. A box of tissues flies across the room too. More things are thrown around the room within the next few minutes as Raven futilely tests the rest of her limbs, and just grows more and more frustrated when nothing moves more than a few inches before misfiring on something else. She is crying silent, defeated tears when a pair of scissors went flying and they finally beg her to stop. Starfire wraps her in a hug while being careful of her tubes, but that only makes her feel worse because She. Can’t. Hug. Back!

“What am I-- supposed to do…?” She wheezes into her girlfriend’s shoulder.

“You will be okay.” Starfire tries to assure. “We will figure this out.”

“How?!-- I can’t--move and my powers-- don’t work correctly!-- How am I-- supposed to do anything?-- What about missions?!”

“You will have to be off the field for a while like with any injury it will just be a bit longer than the average injury. I’m sure you’ll find a way to continue helping eventually.” Robin tries, not very good with these kinds of emotions, but wanting to be encouraging. Raven glares at him over Starfire’s shoulder in response though he so he just heads out the door. “I’ll go get Eir to check you over while I get the chair!” He announces before he can anger her more.

“He is just trying to help.” Starfire puts, knowing her girlfriend and friends well enough to know Raven did something to scare their leader away.

Raven uses the small amount of neck movement she has to try and turn her glare to the pinkette but just ends up pouting back instead before ultimately sighing. “I know. I think I’m-- allowed to be upset-- right now,-- but I shouldn’t-- take it out on him…”

“Exactly!” Starfire smiles before kissing the red gem on her forehead. “I am sure we will figure this out. I will be here to help as little or as much as you want me to the whole way too. ...Scratch at that as little or as much as you need me to. You are really very stubborn.” The alien girl glares playfully.

Raven can’t help but smile a little at the other calling her out. “I know when-- to ask for help, Star.”

“I am aware, but I also know you will not if it would injure your pride.” Starfire reminds.

Raven can’t help but chuckle at the call out even if she was still full of dread. “You know me too well.-- I trust you to-- keep my stubbornness-- in check then.”

“I will!” She smiles excitedly, happy she could make Raven smile even a little before pouting worriedly. “You will just make yourself more upset if we do not.”

Raven sighs, unable to deny it as a woman in a Norse-inspired costume that screamed healer walks in, shooing the boys out the door before turning to the couple.

“Good to see you’re awake, little bird.” The woman smiles at Raven before looking to Starfire for a moment before nodding. “I will allow you to stay if she prefers.”

Raven manages a weak imitation of a nod as she examines the newcomer who she assumes is Eir. Pretty blond curls, fierce green eyes, incredibly toned- could definitely kill a man with her thighs, bronze armor-inspired leather, shiny bronze sword on her hip. “She stays.” Raven croaks, wishing she could cuddle closer as the pinkette climbs into the bed next to her to hug her.

“Very well.” Eir smiles, a chart materializing in her hand. “So, I’ve been informed that you know the current situation. We were able to heal you enough to actually wake up, but given the delicate location of the injury, we were unable to do much else. I was told your powers are also misfiring? I have no way of knowing if that will stabilize or if you’re going to have to start over to get them back to where they were. We did witness your powers trying to heal you themselves and hypothesize that they might have healed something wrong in your teammates’ attempts to make sure you didn’t drown. You may be able to eventually gain enough movement for a simpler electric chair rather than the tube one the boys have made. Whether that be getting your fingers to move on a keypad or using your powers on a joystick, only time will tell. They also made a second one based on technology that is still being tested but has shown to be promising. They wanted your input first though before just giving you a tongue piercing to act as the joystick for the chair.”

Eir explains all of this while looking at Raven’s vitals and having Starfire help her to sit up to check he reactions and make sure there was no brain or general head injuries. Once she was satisfied with Raven’s state, all things considered, she nodded and cleared her to return to her room when ready.

“Any questions?” She asked as the chart vanished once more.

Raven was still in a state of shock as she flopped against her girlfriend who was already firing off questions.

“Are there any ways in which we can help? Are there any physical exercises I can help her do to help with the regaining of movements? What should we not do? Are there other difficulties we should look out for? What about the changing of clothes? Oh my glorb! Will she be able to swallow food? What about-”

“Whoa, whoa whoa!” Eir tried to calm the pinkette, holding up her hands in a placating manner. “One question at a time, sweethea-...” She noticed Raven’s glowing glare aimed at her. “-Starfire. What first?”

Starfire blinked her big green eyes in confusion when the healer seemed to stutter on her words, but shrugged it off. “Begin with the questions of how to help.”

The blonde nods. “While the physical and mental therapies are not my expertise, I know some people who can stop in and visit. The physical therapist can teach you all the exercises as well if that’s what Raven and your team want, but I highly suggest the psychologist be an ongoing thing especially with how closely linked her powers are to her emotions. It’s a big adjustment, and it’s only natural she has some feelings about it as well.” She realizes she’s talking as though Raven isn’t there, but taking one look at her shows the blunette has checked out so she continues. “Don’t let her be too stubborn and potentially hurt herself more, but if she wants alone time, let her have it and just give her a way of calling for someone. She gives off loner energy? Am I correct?”

Starfire nods in response, looking at Raven fondly as she pets through dark blue hair. “It took a long time for her to open up to us, yes. Especially me, but Beast Boy called that a ‘Gay Panic?’. She would usually be meditating, and it was very exciting when she would let me join her.”

“That’s perfect. This will be a very overwhelming time so allow her the alone time to breathe and center herself. Don’t be overbearing either. She seems like a very independent person so while there is a lot she won’t be able to do by herself, don’t go treating her like a baby. Either be casual about helping, or let her ask. Oh! And help her practice with her powers again. It could be good bonding time too for not only you two but the team as well.” Eir sighs now. “As for added difficulties...she will need help moving position every now and then to not develop sores. She will need the ventilator to breathe or she can get an Avery Diaphragm Pacing System as a less cumbersome option. She should be able to swallow, but should still be monitored just to be safe. She will need help with clothing. It is up to her who does it and the physical therapists will show you how in case there are certain ways...I would probably suggest investing in looser clothing than a skin-tight leotard.”

Starfire frowns worriedly, looking down at Raven and finally noticing she’s checked out. She nudges her lightly and repeats everything. “What are your thoughts?” She asks softly.

Raven just blinks tiredly before sighing. “The Aviary Stage-- Pacer Test-- or whatever-- sounds good...and the tongue piercing.-- I want to be-- as independent as possible.-- Might as well --while I’m here, right?” She says with a dry laugh.

Starfire hugs her close at the defeated sound before looking back up at Eir. “I suppose she will be staying a bit longer then?”

Eir smiles sadly, nodding. “Yes. Luckily none of the medics and healers have left yet so she should have basically no recovery time on the Avery. Cyborg and Gizmo went a little crazy on the tongue controls so any color or charm you may want?”

Raven tries to shrug before scowling when she remembers that she can’t. “I guess just match-- them to the rest of the-- jewels on my outfits.” She mutters.

“They figured you’d say that. I’ll leave all of you with care instructions then, and the boys went wild with making you tech in general so we don’t even have to wait for the part to come in. I’ll go get the needed material, and we’ll get started right away.” Eir nods to Raven before looking to Starfire. “I’ll let you stay here until I come back with the team and we wheel her out.” She hums before walking out.

Starfire notices Raven’s muscles spasming and as she looks at the paler girl’s face, she knows she would have deflated if she could and assumes that’s what the spasming is. “Oh, Raven.” She sighs, hugging her close. Her arm muscles spasm again and a frustrated groan sends objects crashing around the room.

Starfire shushes her softly as she wraps Raven’s arms around her since the bluenette can’t on her own. Raven lets out a sigh, mumbling her thanks. “That’s going to-- be what irritates me-- the most.”

“I know. You have a rather grumpy outside, but you start most of the acts of physical affection. I will do my best to make up for it.” Starfire smiles, pulling away just enough so Raven can see her face. “I think I have become rather good at reading your face.”

Raven can’t help but smile at her girlfriend’s words. “Huh,-- I must be going-- soft then if I’m-- that easy to read.”

Starfire bumps their noses together, trying for teasing when she giggles. “Not at all. You are still very much an intimidating force of darkness.”

Raven chuckles. “You are-- a terrible liar.”

Starfire fake gasps. “I am doing no such thing. I am sure you will look even more so with your new piercing, too.” Her eyes light up as she beams. “Like a dark queen on her iron throne!”

Raven winces, but still can’t help the exasperated exhale that might have been a shocked chuckle. “You-- and your optimism.” She utilizes her little neck movement to touch their foreheads together. “Thank you.-- I’ll be-- needing that.”

Starfire giggles at Raven’s little act of affection and smiles at her fondly. “I will do my best in keeping it up then for my Dark Queen. Good thing I began joining you in meditation after the Puppet Master incident. I can assist you in your exercises if you get stuck in your head.”

Raven smiles at her girlfriend as Eir walks back in with a few other people. “Please don’t make that-- a new pet name.” She sighs in fake exasperation as she’s laid back on the bed. “Thank-- you, though.”

“I will be here when you return.” The pinkette smiles lovingly before putting on a fake stern face. “Do not attempt to intimidate the doctors.”

“No promises,” Raven smirks as she’s wheeled out of the room, and can’t help her fond sigh as she hears her girlfriend’s scolding huff from down the hall.

~~~

“Ra-n...Raven...Raven! Can you hear us?”

Raven grumbles at someone calling for her to wake up and attempts to pull the blanket over her head. When she can’t, she has a repeat of her first reaction when she woke up the first time before memories come rushing back and she groans, coughing at the sound.

“It wasn’t a dream was it?” She still sounds scratchy and horse but less out of breath and instead just sounding a little slurred.

“No. Unfortunately, it was not.” Starfire sighs. “I am sorry.”

A rush of emotions comes cascading over Raven, and she groans again. “Don’t freak out, I just don’t have any other ideas of how to deal with this. Can you guys step outside?”

Everyone looks at her in concern, but Starfire just nods, having been watching her closely. “Yes, of course. Be careful to not injure yourself.” She smiles in what she hopes is a comforting way before turning to the healers and tech gurus in the room. “Out.” She’s still smiling sweetly even as her hands glow green making everyone run out.

Starfire leans down to kiss Raven on the forehead. “Call us when you are ready,” before following the others out the door and shutting it behind her.

For the next few minutes, they all hear choked off, rasped out screaming, and things crashing. Luckily nothing sounds too heavy, but the healers are still looking at Starfire and Cyborg in concern. Eventually, it goes quiet and it’s only thanks to someone’s enhanced hearing that they hear Raven tell them to come back in.

Starfire floats to her girlfriend’s side, once again careful of her machines as she settles next to her for comfort while everyone else files back into the room in states of confusion and shock. The room was a disaster zone of papers and lightweight items, and it was obvious to everyone that she had let loose with her powers and screaming, the loss of control probably being the only thing keeping the heavy machines safe.

“Do you feel better, Raven?” Starfire asks, brushing the other’s sweat-coated hair out of her face.

“It helped.” Raven sighs even raspier before moving her eyes to the healers. “So did it work?”

The healers were either blinking in shock or trying to make sense of the paperwork until finally, Eir stepped forward. “Um, yes. Everything seems to be working well, and I guess we can count,” she gestures to the chaos around her, “that as a success for the Pacer. Between your own enhanced healing and the healers on hand, recovery time isn’t really an issue. We should test the chair controls though if you’re up for it. I’m sure the boys did great, but this is still not exactly widespread tech, and you need to get used to the controls. So what do you say?”

Raven’s eyes move to the chair in the corner that was saved from her wrath only by its weight. “Might as well.”

“Excellent, let’s get you transferred over then.” Eir nods, stepping aside to introduce the physical therapist before going to retrieve the rest of the team so they could learn as well.

Once the team is gathered, they’re shown how to go about transferring Raven from bed to chair and back. She agrees to let them practice a few times for the sake of everyone involved but asks if she can wait until tomorrow to start learning the chair. Her human interaction meter is officially tapped.

“I really just want to go back to my room.” Raven sighs.

“We were honestly surprised you gave them time to practice. Go on and get some rest, hun. I’ll be back in the morning.” The physical therapist, Thadius, grins, getting her settled in the chair once more. “At least your girlfriend has super-strength so you don’t have to play wrecking ball again. “

Raven manages to smile fondly if not tiredly. “Yeah, I’m a little tired of the sling...See you tomorrow I guess.”

Starfire takes this as her cue to help wheel her out while saying good night to the others. “Do not let the bed bugs bite.” She smiles on the way.

Raven gives a tired hum before letting her head flop back the second they’re out the door. “Too many people.” She groans.

“You did wonderously, though! To be truthful, I thought you would have snapped sooner, but you stayed nice the whole time.” Starfire smiles down at her.

“I got most of it out when screaming earlier.” The darker of the two admits.

“I thought that would be of help.” The pinkette nods, opening Raven’s door. “Would you like me to stay or would you like to be alone?”

“Affection,” Raven mumbles, trying to call her pajamas to her out of habit, but instead smacking Starfire in the face with them. “Uggggh! ...Sorry.”

“You are alright. I saw them begin to glow.” Star just smiles, unfolding the PJs before pausing with a frown. “We forgot to ask about the changing of clothes.”

Raven just groans. “See if BlueTube has anything.”

“Oh! That is a good idea!” The other perks back up as she brings out her communicator and starts tapping away. “...I have found a woman assisting her husband.” Sound starts coming from the phone’s speaker. “It seems to be like the sling.”

“Do whatever you have to. I just want to sleep.”

“Alright.” Starfire nods in determination, switching the hoodie for an equally soft button-up pajama top before carefully pulling Raven forward to rest against her. She hesitates before undoing the hospital gown but mentally shakes herself. ‘You are just helping.’ She lets the top of the gown drop to Raven’s lap before she pulls the shirt around and gets her arms in, letting her rest once more to button the front. Pants are a slightly more awkward ordeal that requires a different video, but soon enough Raven is in her PJs and being placed in bed with necessary machines to the side.

“That was not too bad.” Starfire grins excitedly, proud of herself as she turns off the lights before floating over to snuggle against her girlfriend.

“Yeah...thought it would be more difficult.” Raven yawns. “Do I need anything else?”

“Uhhhh…” Starfire lets go and there is a light and more tapping. “Allow me to grab more pillows.” She says before floating around the room and disappearing to hers for a moment before coming back. “Some more padding is needed in bonier areas.”

“So all of me?” Raven chuckles.

“Only at your joints. How did Beastboy say it?” Starfire hums as she floats around placing pillows where needed. “Buff big tiddie goth girlfriend.”

If the lights were on, Starfire would be able to see Raven’s face flame red. “Please never repeat anything he says ever again. I wish I could smack him.”

“He is only joking.” Starfire giggles, settling next to her once more and cuddling her close. “Would you like me to throw a pillow at him in the morning?”

“Have I mentioned I love you?” Raven sighs happily.

“Love you, too.” Starfire giggles, kissing her cheek before they settle down and are asleep soon after.

~Six Months Later~

“Four goons around the next left corner, Robin.” Raven hums through her mouthpiece as she scans her various screens. Fingers typing at a keyboard as she uses her piercing to switch through screens.

As soon as she had the hang of her new tongue controls, she immediately started plotting with Cyborg on how she could still help. She learned they could adjust her headgear to more of a braces setup and program each tooth to a different command. Once they had this established, Cyborg went wild on making her little camera companions of ravens and spiders and really any creature that fit her aesthetic. With these, she could now stay at the tower and act as surveillance through the eyes of her robotic pets, and sometimes lend a hand in terms of her giant black wolfhound going feral or her raven swooping down to peck and claw. She had to say, having a half-robot with robotics knowledge as a close friend definitely had its perks.

With physical therapy, she had at least regained movement in her hands and forearms and could sometimes get her leg to jerk out when one of the boys was being annoying or the dog AI Cyborg installed in her hound wanted to play. She also had more range of motion to her neck to be able to see all her screens so got to see the sharp jab Robin delivered to a goon’s gut as his boomerang took out another.

“Thanks, Raven.” He buzzes through the earpiece.

“Yeah...duck.” She warns.

She switches to Starfire’s screen after assuring that Robin had his end covered. “Hey.”

“Raven!” The pinkette whisper-cheers. “How are things?”

“Everyone has their wings covered. Everything is good on my end. I just wanted to check on my pretty girlfriend.” Raven smiles calmly.

She hears a small squeak from the other end and can see Star’s eyes glow a little brighter. “I am still un-used to you being so openly affectionate.” Starfire giggles.

“I have a form of control of my powers again and pillows always within reach of them. No one is going to dare say anything, and you were there for the existential crisis of almost losing each other. You’ve helped me through all of this including bathing and other things. I appreciate it, I have to make sure you know that.” She chuckles. “Plus you’re cute when you blush.”

There’s another embarrassing squeal as Starfire floats more to the ceiling, and they can hear exasperated groans.

“You know you’re on the public line, right?” Beastboy groans.

“And?” Raven quirks a brow on her end.

“Leave it, dude. She’ll send her spiders in your room again.” Cyborg warns.

“...Nothing.” Beastboy sighs. “Am I clear up ahead? He reeks in here and it’s messing with my nose.”

Raven looks to his screen, tapping her left incisor to zoom in. “I don’t see anything…” She swipes the same tooth and the heat sensor turns on. “No heat signatures. You’re good.”

“Thanks, man.” His buzzing cutting out.

“You’re good, too, Cyborg, though stay closer to the walls. There’s a leaky pipe and I think you’re waiting on sealant?”

“Thanks, Raven! You rock!” He whisper-grins before his buzzing leaves too.

“What did we say about threatening the boys with mechanical bugs?” An almost smug smile can be heard through Starfire’s connection.

“...Only for major offenses.” Raven huffs.

“Teasing us for being sappy is not one.” Starfire giggles.

Raven just huffs before an explosion happens on Robin’s line and they all jump into action with Raven’s raven flying over head all the while.

~~~

“We have returned!” Starfire cheers as the team enters the common room, everyone covered in soot and grime.

“Hey.” Raven smiles as she turns her chair to faces the others, a fluffy black cat robot in her lap for the aesthetic of it.

The boys give various greetings and words of thanks before excusing themselves to clean up.

Starfire stays behind to float over to her girlfriend for a kiss. “You did amazing, Raven!” She smiles fondly at the other.

Raven’s cheeks flush slightly but she returns the smile nonetheless. “Thanks. You guys did, too.”

“And it is thanks to you.”

“Nah, I just fill in the gaps. You guys do most of the work.”

Starfire pouts as she boops her girlfriend’s nose. “Beastboy would have been stab if your raven did not swoop in to rescue him.”

“Hmm, really? I didn’t notice. Just felt like clawing that guy’s face.” She smirks, knowing it’s riling the other up.

“One of these days you will admit you like his company.” Starfire sighs, picking the other up to go to Raven’s room, but has really become more their shared room.

“I would say when pigs fly, but I think he could make that happen.” Raven sighs in mock defeat, letting the limbs she has movement in flop dramatically.

“If not him then most likely Cyborg.” The pinkette agrees as Raven uses her powers to open the door ahead of them.

“They would work together on it,” Raven adds as she and her machines are placed on the bed.

“I have no doubts.” Starfire giggles as she gets some of her clothes to go use the shower. “Would you like me to help you take one as well?”

Raven chuckles at the mental image of Cyborg trying to strap a jet pack to a green pig before the nods. “I’d like that, yeah.”

The pinkette grabs one of the long cloaks Raven has switched to and taking them to the bathroom before collecting her girlfriend once more. “You can practice on the bathing products some more.” She smiles.

“As long as you don’t try to switch my pomegranate shampoo out for your strawberry again.” Raven smirks, knowing full well she didn’t mean to the first time.

“That was an accident!” Starfire whines before the door seal them away, leaving them alone in their own little world.

~~~

Further Info I myself am not disabled so feel I should offer the research I used

J Kim, et al “The Tongue Enables Computer and Wheelchair Control for People with Spinal Cord Injury,” (Science Translational Medicine, 2013). http://dx.doi.org/10.1126/scitranslmed.3006296

https://www.flintrehab.com/paralyzed-from-the-neck-down/

https://my.clevelandclinic.org/health/diseases/15345-paralysis

[kickingitwithkirk]

I’m Not Clean

Paring: Alpha!Sam Winchester x Omega!Reader

Word Count: 1948

Warnings: A/B/O, angst, verbal fighting, cursing, cheating, oral sex, p/v sex

A/N: for @jawritter​​​​ #jensmakemecrychallange

A/N II: Set between mid season six-starts after Death puts Sam’s soul back-ending before the last Trial in season eight. Told from Sam’s POV alternating between present and past memories/ events. Some altering of events to fit story line. Prompt in Bold.

*no beta, all mistakes are mine.

~~I’m Not Clean I’m Not Clean I’m Not Clean~~ 

I chant this mantra over and over to myself. 

I was drunk before leaving, roaring out of the garage in Baby, leaving the stench of burning rubber and exhaust in my wake.

We’ve had some hell raising fights over the years. This one tonight the vilest we have ever had, saying the most unforgiving things to each other because you broke our agreement.

What we said...our knowledge of each other’s weakest points to abuse, verbally cutting into each other in the deepest manner, inflicting as much carnage as possible. 

The only other person in the universe who knows how to hit me that hard is my brother. Man, how we’ve done that dance too, over and over yet somehow always finding our way back to each other.

My brother tried to intervene, to stop us from saying the things we can never take back or forgive. It felt as if he was taking your side, I went after him as well. 

I feel the need to punish myself for all the pain I have caused. I am always creating pain, torching those I love. 

I found her at the dive bar, a few days out from her heat.

She is my punishment.

We go to a nearby dump. I close the door and she's already on her knees, my jeans zippers down, pulling me out and starts licking up the underside of my cock, making gagging noises trying to deepthroat me. My head thunks against the door and all I can think is that she’s not you.

~~I’m Not Clean I’m Not Clean I’m Not Clean~~

I remember like it was yesterday. We ended up at Bobby’s after cleaning out a vamp nest two states over. 

Grabbing our duffels we didn’t rock, paper, scissors over who got the spare bed, my brother just face plants on the couch, unconscious before I’m even at the foot of the staircase.

I wearily make my way upstairs not bothering to shower in spite of how bad I smell, too exhausted to care. I toed off my boots and socks, throwing my blood encrusted shirt and jeans in the corner, collapsing face down on the bed, landing on top of something under the covers.

Why am I staring at the ceiling?

My brother barrel's in, woken by the sound of my body hitting the floor, stopping in the doorway with his gun drawn looking for what attacked me...this confused look crossed his face as the scent of fear flooded the room.

I sit up gazing over the bed as you huddle in the corner looking scared to death. My brother puts his gun back in his waistband, hands up with his on display to show he’s no threat. 

I slowly got to my feet and came around the bed towards you. You shrink even further in the corner, pulling into yourself as tight as you can, hiding behind your arms and drawn up knees.

I stop and sit down trying to not appear threatening and speak softly to you.

“I’m sorry I scared you, we’re friends of Bobby’s. He didn’t tell us you were here. We’re not going to hurt you.”

You're so still, all I can see is your beautiful eyes moving between us, the only movement you are able to do. 

My brother gives a small smile before going back downstairs to the couch, giving you space to calm down. I stay on the floor, my back propped against the bed talking. 

It’s a one sided conversation but that’s ok. 

Bobby’s back just after daybreak found us still in the same positions on the floor asleep. 

“Balls!” 

You spring from the corner and bury yourself in his arms. Seeing that Bobby has you I grab my stuff and head for a shower. My brothers just came out from taking his. I strip and climb in turning on the water. 

Fucker used all the hot water.

~~I’m Not Clean I’m Not Clean I’m Not Clean~~

I don’t want to be touching her now, or her touching me, my self loathing rising like the bile in my throat but my body has a mind of its own tonight as my brain turns off given into my Alpha.

I grab her hair, yanking her off my dick with an audible pop, saliva and precome running down her chin, adding another stain to the discolored rug. I pull her up, tossing her onto the bed before dragging her back to the edge, the barely there skirt rides up out of the way as I lave my tongue up her uncovered thighs, swirling it through her dripping folds. Roughly inserting several fingers into her tight cunt I start sucking on her clit as she grabs my hair soaking my face with her slick as she cums.

~~I’m Not Clean I’m Not Clean I’m Not Clean~~

The smell of coffee calls to my still fuzzy brain as I staggered downstairs to the kitchen. My brother and Bobby are at the table talking. As I pour a cup you walk in from the porch. 

I turn towards you, finally able to scent you without the terror that clouded the room last night. 

Are you a classic beauty? No, but you beguile me. 

I’m enamored with your beautiful eyes, recalling the way they never left mine last night. You’re taller than I expected, curvaceous, not delicate like others I have been with.

As you hold my gaze I remember the verbal platitudes, reading the drivel, even watched some of the bathetic romance movies but they could never fully articulate this feeling. It de-queues through me, permeates my soul.

My brother relentlessly teases that I am having a chick-flick moment.

~~I’m Not Clean I’m Not Clean I’m Not Clean~~

She wobbly moves onto her hands and knees, I climb on the bed behind her and ram my engorged cock into her sodden cunt as far as she can take me mindlessly pounding. I wrap my hand around her throat, squeezing enough to stop the incoherent noises escaping from her mouth that grate against me. 

~~I’m Not Clean I’m Not Clean I’m Not Clean~~

We ended up staying at Bobby’s for a couple of weeks, it was quiet and I wasn’t in any hurry to leave you.

Bobby explained to us how you ended up here over a bottle of whiskey late one night.

Jo found you bruised and bleeding, huddled in the door jam out back of Harvelle's Roadhouse. You had been injured by your pack for defying them. Ellen of course took you in. 

The pack came looking for you, trailing your scent to the bar. Ellen’s shotgun and don’t fuck with me attitude convinced them you had left but she knew it wasn’t safe for you to stay, your pack would be watching. 

Smuggling you out of the bar proved harder than anyone thought. There were multiple hand offs among hunters traveling along the way, finally delivering you to Bobby Singer's home days later.

For the first time in your life, you were safe.

We took our time getting to know each other, I had to work harder than I ever have with anyone before to gain your trust.

After my brother and I caught a case, I would call you every day and matter the time, you answered. We would talk for hours, share what we had been doing that day, finding our mutual interests in a variety of subjects coming to light. 

My brother would yell for me to get off the damn phone, I was keeping him awake, even though I’m sitting outside the motel room.

Then things got out of control.

Castiel broke the wall and died. Leviathans were anyone and everywhere, finally imitating us.

We became America’s Most Wanted. Bobby sent us to a man named Frank who owned him a big favor and made us disappear. 

We found Bobby’s burned down house and almost got killed ourselves.

Then Bobby showed up at the hospital to break us out, informing me you were safe, hidden at a long forgotten hunters cabin.

We managed to stay in contact, I needed that, to know you were staying safe before being able to sleep at night.

The first fight happened in the hospital, blaming us for losing Bobby. 

Then Dick and Purgatory.

And a lost year.

~~I’m Not Clean I’m Not Clean I’m Not Clean~~

I pulled out of her relieved my knot had finally deflated enough to release me. Collapsing onto my back I fling my arm over my eyes disgusted with myself as she’s curling into my side literally purring.

I’ve repeatedly used her...in this bed of sin I created...I’ve lost control...not the first time.

~~I’m Not Clean I’m Not Clean I’m Not Clean~~

It’s never quiet for long in our lives. Castiel mysteriously returns and Kevin Tran sort of deciphers the demon tablet, how through three trials we can close the Gates of Hell and seal away so much evil if we survive the First Trial- kill a Hell hound. 

While on another case we met our grandfather Henry Winchester of The Men of Letters and inherit the key to the Bunker. We have a home of sorts and I finally have a safe place for you, for us to be together. A few months after moving in, before the Second Trial-rescuing a innocent from Hell, and your heat, I made a decision that saddened both of us but with our lives was necessary and allowed me finally to make you mine forever.

Right before finding out about the Third Trial I found the test hidden in a drawer and my diminishing mind bounces between being petrified and elated. I sat there downing a bottle of whiskey from my brother's copious stash waiting for your return and upon seeing you all the alcohol in my degenerating body gave me permission to release my pent up fury and paranoia, ending in that cheap room with her.

~~I’m Not Clean I’m Not Clean I’m Not Clean~~

I made my way back to the Bunker to find my brother sitting in the War Room waiting on me. He wrinkled his nose at the stench of her all over me but said nothing as I handed over the car keys pocketing them. His eyes shifted to a chair and I apprehensively sat down awaiting the bombardment he would unleash. He remains quiet as he turns the open laptop towards me. I blink a few times to focus on the screen, reading the online article from a national news agency about the contraceptive failure. I’m in disbelief when he slides your phone in front of me and plays the voicemail from your doctor.

I get up swaying from a nonexistent breeze slowly walking the halls till I’m standing outside our bedroom door. I can scent your sadness from outside the closed door causing me to freeze holding the knob, unable to summon up the courage to turn it when it disappears from my hand finding you instead. You move allowing me to enter, shutting the door as I sit on the edge of the bed before crossing over, moving to stand directly in front of me. I don’t know how you can do that with the smell of every wrong I’ve done clinging to my skin polluting us. 

I feel your hands cradling my face softly telling me Grown men don't cry as your fingers track the tears coursing uninhibitedly down my cheeks.

I completely collapse wrapping my arms around your waist resting my forehead against the special place where our pup is, undeserving of your love that’s purifying me in ways the trials never will.

tagging: SPN @donnaintx​​​​

Sam/Jared @idreamofplaid​​​​

[punksarahreese]

“Your safe”

For recovery!au 💕

Ava hadn’t let anyone else but Sarah take out her stitches, which pissed off the nurses since doctor Reese wasn’t even supposed to be in the ward this much. Still, a stern look from the psychiatrist had been enough to send them away, leaving her alone with the patient and the surgical tray.

It happened far too quickly for her to anticipate it. Sarah opened the kit to retrieve the suture scissors but she ended up fumbling. The scalpel handle clattered onto the tray, making Ava jump. It took her only a second to realize what it was and immediately her hand went to cover her neck.

“No.”

“Ava, hey no,” Sarah quickly caught on to what was wrong, “I’m not putting a blade on it at all. It just fell out of the kit.”

“I don’t- I can’t…” Her eyes were wide with panic as she clearly got stuck in her memories again. Sarah had never seen her panic this much, not since the last time Connor tried to come into the room weeks before. Ava didn’t cry but she did cower away, her trembling hand staying over her wound as if she needed protection from the blade-less instrument.

“Ava? Don’t look at it, focus on me.”

Sarah was quick to shove the now unsterilized handle into the pocket of her white coat. She held up her hands to show her that she only had the scissors now, trying not to spook her friend any more.

“Pr…promise?”

“Yes, you’re safe.”

It would end up taking a few more minutes to convince Ava that the scalpel wouldn’t be anywhere near her. Sarah wasn’t sure what she had expected but such a severe reaction to even the handle of the knife was concerning. Of course there would be an ingrained trauma response, but the magnitude of it had her thinking. If Ava was so shaken by the sight of it, how would she ever operate again? Had her attempt marred her ability to be a surgeon mentally as well as physically?

It was scary to think about and she couldn’t imagine how Ava would feel when she came to that realization herself. Surgery was her life, that was the one thing everyone knew about the CT fellow despite her aloofness with her colleagues. When the surgeons had told Ava that her wrist had been injured severely enough that her function would be affected, she was crushed. She had cried into Sarah’s shoulder for over an hour, despite promises of physical therapy and a second opinion. Yet even that was shadowed by the severity of her emotional response; that would take far longer to work through than any reversible physical damage.

[stardomtrash]

Oh SHIT Giulia unmasked Starlight Kid?!

Hi welcome to me finally getting Stardom World and catching up on everything out of order with no rhyme or reason. The blog where I scream into the void about my current hyperfixation.

So at the 2.13.2021 Korakuen Hall show, seems like Giulia went FULL heel and, after winning the match, added severe insult to injury by forcibly unmasking her opponent. I know that this is Japan, and that masks are not as sacred as in Mexico, but SLK has adopted this lucha character and unmasking a luchador is A Big Deal.

So she tries to rip the mask off both during and after the match, but is either countered by SLK or the entirety of Stars just GANG her and she’s dragged away. But when DDM shows up to even the odds and keep up the fighting with Stars, an injured and defeated SLK is left alone with Giulia.

And Giulia brought scissors.

This was... actually rather unsettling to watch. She cuts chunks out of this beautiful and iconic mask, breaking off the trimmings, and I think a part of me (and the audience) thought that would be the end of it, that she’d get interrupted. But no, she keeps it up until she cuts through enough to rip the whole thing off SLK’s head, and you just HEAR the audience gasp at this. Like this was a SHOCK. It was violating.

SLK immediately buries her face into the canvas - we don’t see her. The referee finally gets control and throws a towel over SLK’s head, Stars run in and assist to cover her up, and Giulia is standing their smug as you like, holding up the mask like some sort of decapitated head trophy.

Giulia is oh-so patronising after this, saying to Kid “Hey, you did your best. Keep doing your best. Or are you scared now?” and Kid can’t even look at her, let alone respond. It’s this really gut-wrenching moment when you remember that, as a heel, Giulia can be absolutely brutal, and cold as you like. She goes straight into calling out Tam after this, like what she just did to SLK was nothing to her. Meanwhile, Kid has had this piece of her ripped out.

For me, I’ve known little of SLK outside of her heel Oedo Tai persona. Watching her work as a face is really, really interesting. She can do both VERY well.

I love the athleticism of wrestling, but I love the character and story work more. While Stardom is in many ways a lot less kayfabe heavy than I’m used to - evident by 90% of this blog being me documenting the wrestlers just dicking around and vibing - I’ll always allow myself to get caught up in character work and a story. Wrestling exists outside the realms of regular fiction as it’s so much harder to forget that it’s all fake, all scripted. The escapism isn’t easy. But when you allow yourself to immerse yourself in what the wrestlers are trying to do, and analyse it just like you would anything else, it’ll hit you just as hard as any other piece of fiction.

Or as hard as Syuri’s kicks

So yeah, this was an awesome moment in Stardom that I wanted to talk about. I’d like to do more of these blog posts, shouting into the void about things here and there. I’m always up for a discussion too, if anyone wants to fangirl with me :D I’m incredibly new to Stardom so a disclaimer for everything I write is that I don’t have the years of context behind everything, so forgive me if I read into something the wrong way.

Tl;dr - Giulia is a son of a bitch and this was awesome

EDIT: I just found @dynamitekansai​ has a video of the unmasking and it’s defo worth a watch, thank you for this!

There is the pro-shot version here, but I prefer the above link. Better angle, more raw. This one’s queued up to when she starts ripping at the mask, not when the scissors come into play

EDIT 2: found SLK’s Twitter after it happened. She posted this pic:

Google Translate is sketch at the best of times, but this was clear as day: “The most important thing for me was torn and peeled off. I will never forgive you.”

On her Twitter, Giulia referenced a pro wrestling magazine article talking about the brutality of the match, saying about it, “What is heinousness? I can't hear people... I was just joking around for fun!”

If that doesn’t speak volumes about her character, I don’t know what does.

[tacos4teenbrides]

Karissa Collins is not okay.

And her kids are not okay. She left a toddler and 3-year-old unsupervised while her old children prepared lunch for themselves. Anchor and Ansyr played with kitchen scissors, and now Anchor has a severe hand injury that includes a severed tendon. To make matters worse, Anchor cannot get surgery on the hand because he tested positive for COVID. 

This is not a joke, or a matter of religious disagreement. Children must be supervised at all times, especially toddlers. This is now the second time in a very short span that Anchor has been seriously injured as a result of neglect. He broke his leg about two months ago playing on a climbing wall that was not age appropriate. Now he is suffering from a seriously painful injury requiring plastic surgery, AND he is COVID-positive. Karissa claims that Anchor “doesn’t have any pain, and if you saw him, you wouldn’t know anything happened.” This cannot possibly be true. Anchor is wearing a bandage on his hand and wrist that makes it obvious something is wrong. I also find it IMPOSSIBLE to believe that Anchor is not in pain when his tendon is severed and has yet to be re-attached.

I just want to remind people that outside of the leg-breaking and tendon-severing injuries, we have also seen video of Anchor going HEAD FIRST down a slide for older children. If he doesn’t have any concussions or spinal cord injuries, it’s not from lack of trying. Furthermore, Anchor has COVID because Karissa “helped a desperate friend in need.” May I remind you that, for Anthym’s birth, Karissa hosted a labour party with many invited guests and their children coming over to the Collins house? She knowingly exposed herself to a huge amount of people without any masking, and in a completely unnecessary way. Something tells me that “helping a desperate friend in need” translates to “I knew she had COVID but I visited her anyway, without precautions.”

 If Karissa and Mandrae cannot anticipate potential dangers to their children  and if they cannot supervise their toddlers, they need intervention. This is unacceptable, and it is happening much too often. I am not advocating for her children to be taken out of the home, which is traumatizing to the entire family. I do think CPS should step in to ensure that Karissa and Mandrae do a parenting class, and also to work with them to create safety plans that will prevent these incidences from reoccurring.

[tw-anchor]

39. Trust Your Abilities

Anchor

Stiles Stilinski x Original Character

Episode: 3x15: Galvanize

Word Count: 6,559

Warning(s): Mature language, canon violence + gore, dramatic Stiles, Peter’s severed finger

Author’s Note: Y’all I have had the worst luck these past couple of months. I must have broken a mirror or something without knowing. Please enjoy! Make sure you reblog, like, and tell me what you think!

Masterlink in Pinned Post!

Peter was lucky to have Olivia and Derek. Most people wouldn't help someone who had murdered and injured more than one of their family members. In fact, if Peter wasn't her father, Olivia wouldn't even be in the same vicinity as him, let alone help Derek sew his finger back on.

But, that's where she found herself. She hovered behind Derek as he and Peter sat at the table in Derek's loft; Derek had taken upon himself to sew Peter's finger back on after the Calaveras' head honcho cut it off. Thankfully, Peter put the finger on ice once Braeden got the two of them out of the hunters' grasp.

Olivia wasn't afraid of blood, but even the sight of her cousin sewing on her father's finger caused some nausea. Thankfully, it was over soon; Derek worked quickly, ignoring Peter's complaints in a way that Olivia couldn't. If she hadn't known the year Peter was born, she would have thought he was six years old. Peter Hale could dish out the pain without a problem, but he certainly couldn't take it.

"Ow," Peter hissed as Derek finished up his almost-perfect sutures. "Don't you have any anesthetic?"

Derek gave him a blank look, setting the small pair of medical scissors on the table next to him. "Yep."

Olivia snickered. "You know, I really thought you'd have a higher pain tolerance,"

Peter rolled his eyes at her. "Shut up," he turned back to Derek and with a whine to his voice, asked, "Are you at least going to tell me what I risked life and digit for?"

"Yeah, actually, I'd like to know that, too," Olivia added, crossing her arms over her chest. "And, you know, why I had to hire a mercenary to get you guys out of there..."

"I'm going to show you," Derek got up from his seat and took only a minute or so while he went up to his room and came back down. He carried a cylinder box made out of some sort of wood, with a triskele carved into the lid; he opened it and carefully slid out its contents. "After the fire, that's all that was left of her."

Talia Hale's claws clattered onto the table and Olivia almost flinched. Even though Talia was long dead, she could still feel power radiating off the claws. And that power? It felt like her Aunt Talia. It wasn't necessarily a tether like her pack members, but there was a slight glow to them on her mental map that caused her pause.

That's why Derek went, she realized privately.

Peter's eyes narrowed in recognition as he looked at his sister's claws. "Talia. I can't decide if that's touching or morbid," he raised an eyebrow at Derek. "I guess the real question is, what are you planning on doing with them?"

Derek hesitated before answering. "I have to ask her something," he finally revealed. "and from what I've heard, this is the only way possible."

Realization dawned on Peter's face. "You gotta be kidding me."

"Why do you think I sewed your finger back on?" Derek's lips turned up slightly into a smirk.

Olivia wrinkled her nose. She hadn't known what Derek was going to do with Talia's claws, but from context clues, she figured it out. Peter would connect to Talia's claws and then do the alpha ritual on Derek, where he peaked into Derek's subconsciousness through his spinal cord. It was a painful procedure and each time Olivia witnessed it, some part of her heart ached.

Even though she did want to know what Derek spoke to Talia about, she couldn't watch him go through with the ritual. It honestly didn't matter much, either way, because she had to get going in order to fetch Stiles from his house so they could get to school on time.

"That's my cue," she patted Derek on the shoulder before heading to the door. "I'll call you later, Der."

"Have fun at school," he mumbled in reply.

Much to her surprise, when she got to her car, Isaac was waiting for her in the passenger seat.

"What are you doing here?" she wasn't upset about his presence, but merely curious.

She slid into her seat and buckled her seatbelt, starting her car. She pulled away from Derek's building and took a left, heading into town so she could pick them up some breakfast. It would butter Stiles up to Isaac's attendance.

Isaac shrugged. "Scott took his bike, so I thought I'd get a ride with you."

"You walked all the way to Derek's loft from Scott's house to get a ride to school?" Olivia laughed.

"Well, any opportunity to annoy Stiles, and I'm there," Isaac chuckled with her.

Olivia shook her head in amusement. Only Isaac...

After a quick stop at the McDonald's drive-through, Olivia was pulling to a stop at the curb in front of Stiles' house. Isaac clambered into the backseat, almost hitting her in the face two separate times with his long legs, as Stiles bounced out of the front door and made his way down the sidewalk.

"Good morning, beautiful!" he was very cheerful today and Olivia knew it wasn't because it was from his lack of nightmares—because he certainly had one. No, he was happy because today was Mischief Day, the day before Halloween. "Mwah!"

The placement of his lips against her cheek with a noisy kiss made Olivia grin. "Morning, sweetcheeks."

"Good morning!"

As soon as Stiles heard Isaac's voice, he deflated. He whipped around and faced the backseat, a scowl on his face. "Ugh, what are you doing here?" he complained; as he reached for the handle of his door, Olivia locked the doors and pulled away from the curb. "Livvy, let me out. I'll drive myself."

"No, you won't," she said firmly. "Wednesdays are my days to drive."

"Well, why'd you bring Isaac?"

"I brought myself," Isaac told him smugly. He reached into the McDonald's bag and pulled out Stiles' breakfast sandwich amongst the wrappers from his biscuit and Olivia's bagel, tossing it at him. "Breakfast."

"Thank you," Stiles grumbled at Olivia as he turned to face the front once again. He unwrapped his sandwich with a grouchy look on his face. "Now Mischief Day is ruined."

"No, it isn't, Mr. Mischief," Olivia rolled her eyes. "If anything, Isaac riding with us is mischief..."

"That doesn't make me feel any better."

"Oh, get over yourself," Isaac rolled his eyes; Olivia caught the action through her rear-view mirror and tried to hide her grin.

"You get over yourself."

"No, you get over your—"

"Okay, both of you, shut it," Olivia interrupted their ridiculous argument. "I don't want to hear another word from either of you until we get to school."

"But—"

"Shush."

"Yes, Mom."

"Isaac Lahey."

Olivia wasn't as annoyed as she portrayed herself. It was actually kind of amusing to see Isaac and Stiles fully chastised for their little spat. Nevertheless, the only noise throughout the rest of the drive to the school was some alternative song that Stiles had turned on

"Look," Isaac spoke as Olivia was parking. "the twins are here."

Olivia and Stiles followed his gaze and saw that he was right. Ethan and Aiden's bikes were parked neatly in the two spaces next to Scott's. Scott had already abandoned his bike and was talking to them, looking affronted.

Stiles' face hardened and in that moment, he and Isaac had something to agree on; they both could not stand Ethan and Aiden.

Stiles and Isaac rushed out of the car and Olivia briskly followed them, making sure that her car was locked securely.

"You're back in school?" they heard Scott ask the twins.

"No, just to talk," Ethan answered him.

"Oh, that's kind of a change of pace for you guys," Stiles snarked as he came to a stop on Scott's right; Isaac joined the alpha's other side. "Usually you're just hurting, maiming, and killing."

Aiden chose to ignore Stiles, keeping his eyes on Scott. "You need a pack, we need an alpha."

"Yeah, absolutely not," Stiles answered for Scott. "That's hilarious, though."

Aiden narrowed his eyes at Stiles while reminding Scott, "You came to use for help. We helped."

"You beat him up, two to one," Olivia spoke up, her voice hardening. "And then when he was down, you had to be stopped by your brother."

"Yeah, in my opinion, that was actually counter-productive," Stiles added as he took her hand, intertwining their fingers.

"Why would I say yes?" Scott asked, though he looked to be humoring the twins, more than actually considering them as pack members.

"We add strength, we'd make you more powerful," Aiden pitched. "There's no reason to say no."

Stiles rolled his eyes, Olivia scoffed, and Isaac sneered at them, "I can think of one. Like the two of your holding Derek's claws while Kali impaled Boyd." Olivia nodded in agreement with Isaac, her heart aching at the thought of her dead pack mate. "In fact, I don't know why we're not impaling them right now."

Aiden growled at them, his eyes glowing ice-blue. "You wanna try?"

Olivia couldn't believe his audacity. She held out a firm hand, sending her own purple-tinted glare at him. "You need to back up," she ordered firmly, allowing her voice to shift and take control of him.

Aiden's eyes dimed back to their normal brown, but his glare stayed.

"Sorry, but they don't trust you," Scott glanced between Ethan and Aiden, his gaze lingering on the latter and his wicked temper. "And neither do I."

The four of them walked past the twins without another word—though, Isaac did send them a triumphant smirk as he passed.

As soon as they walked into the school, Stiles was decked in the face with a roll of toilet paper.

"All right, that's my fucking face!" he growled as he whipped the roll back at Greenberg. He patted Scott on the chest as they continued on to his locker. "Hey, dude, good decision, buddy. Good alpha decision."

Scott winced sheepishly. "I hope so."

"No, you know so," Olivia loved Scott, but he wished that he would see people the way they were, not the way he hoped them to be. Ethan and Aiden had a large part in Boyd's death, like Isaac had just mentioned, and they were also part of the pack who killed Erica. Sometimes, people couldn't be redeemed.

"Exactly," Isaac pointed at her in agreement.

Stiles, who had successfully closed the door to his mind after Malia's transformation back to a human girl, easily dialed his combination and unlocked his locker. He started unpacking his very full backpack, unloading his various Mischief Day pranks.

Scott nudged Olivia while Stiles was focused on his bag. "Hey, what did you say her name was again?" he nodded down the hall and Olivia saw that he was looking at Kira, who was at her own locker.

"Kira Yukimura," she informed him. "She's really sweet. Why?"

Scott shrugged. "Just wondering."

Isaac and Olivia exchanged an amused look. "Right, okay."

Stiles glanced at them. "What are you guys looking at?" he followed their gaze, saw Kira, and then looked back at Scott, "You looking at her?"

Scott immediately looked away from Kira, flustered. "Her? Who her?"

"Her-her," Stiles rolled his eyes. "Kira. You like her?"

"I thought you were into Lydia now," Isaac mentioned idly; Olivia smirked when Scott's eyes widened in shock.

"What? No!" he shook his head quickly. "I mean, may—no! She's okay, they're both okay...Kira's new."

Stiles shook his head and carefully placed a carton of eggs into his locker. "Yeah, that made a lot of sense, buddy. Just ask her out."

"Who, Lydia?"

Olivia rolled her eyes. "He meant Kira, Scott."

"Now?"

"Yes, now," Isaac encouraged him.

"Right now?"

"Right now," Stiles slammed his locker shut after grabbing his econ textbook and turned to face Scott head on. "Scott, I don't think you get it yet. You're an alpha. You're the apex predator—"

"Please don't call him a predator while trying to convince him to ask Kira out," Olivia interjected with a gentle shudder.

"Makes sense," Stiles nodded at her before going back to Scott. "My point is, everyone wants you. You're like the hot girl that every guy wants."

Scott raised his eyebrows, confused. "The hot girl?"

"You are the hottest girl," Stiles poked him in the chest with a wink.

His words must have finally gotten through to Scott, because the alpha nodded with a small, but cute smile on his face. He looked up at Isaac and announced, "I'm the hot girl."

Isaac nodded seriously. "Yes, you are."

Scott giggled cutely before walking away.

Olivia watched him go, shaking her head. "You three are the oddest people I've ever met."

Isaac laughed at her and followed Scott while Stiles scoffed, "Says you," he grabbed her hand as they walked down the hallway to her locker. "Aren't you the teenager whose favorite ice cream is vanilla?"

"You know I don't like ice cream that much," they reached her locker and she swiftly unlocked it. "Now, should I be jealous that you called Scott the hottest girl while I was standing right next to you, or...?"

"No," Stiles leaned against her neighbor's locker, smiling down at her. "Want to know why?"

"Why, Stiles?"

"Because hot doesn't even begin to describe you, Livvy," he cooed sweetly, making her giggle.

"You're lucky I love you," she poked his cheek. "otherwise, you'd be too cheesy for me."

"You like cheese."

"On my pizza," Olivia shut her locker with a laugh, cradling her econ textbook in the crook of her right arm. "Now, did you want to catch the show are you gonna sit around all day and miss it?"

Stiles' eyes lit up at the reminder. Last night, or early this morning, Stiles and Scott had come to the school to prank Coach. It was his birthday and apparently the best friend duo had been pranking him on Mischief Day since they entered high school. It was a sort of tradition for them and Stiles said it was always good fun, but Olivia had never witnessed one of these pranks herself.

She would never tell Stiles, but she was kind of excited about it.

"Yes!" he grabbed her free hand and started pulling her down the hall.

When they entered Coach's classroom, Stiles had insisted on sitting in the front row, so he had a good seat for all the chaos that he and Scott had reined upon Coach. Olivia sat behind him and when Lydia and Scott came into the classroom together, a moment or so later, they sat next to them. The bell rang and there was still no sign of Coach—but then, they heard what was going on next door.

What sounded like furniture collapsing to the floor came from Coach's office. Not a second later, they heard him shout, "Son of a bitch!"

Stiles broke out into a round of snickers, his whole body shaking, and Scott grinned in amusement. Olivia let a smile appear on her lips as she glanced at Lydia, who shook her head, an expression that somehow held both annoyance and amusement painted on her face.

The door that connected Coach's office and the classroom was forced open and then slammed quickly as Coach entered the room. "Mischief Night, Devil's Night," he grumbled, glaring at the students as most of them laughed. "I don't care what you call it. You little punks are evil. You think it's funny that every Halloween my house gets egged?"

The general consensus was yes, everyone thought that Coach's house getting egged was funny.

"A man's house is supposed to be his castle! Mine's a freakin' omelet..." Coach turned to his desk and spotted the wrapped gift that Greenberg had deposited before he took his seat. "Oh, this? We're gonna do this again? I don't think so!"

Coach whipped the present onto the ground and stomped on it. A surprised look flashed onto his face when he heard glass breaking; Stiles' laughter increased into a small roar.

Coach picked up the present, a mug with his picture on it, which was now broken, and glanced at the card. "Happy birthday," he read. "Love, Greenberg."

The slightly chastised look on Coach's face made Olivia laugh. Her giggles died down when Lydia's tether pulsed. She turned to her cousin and saw her on her phone, swatting the air around her head.

"Lyds, what are you doing?" she leaned over to her desk and whispered.

"There's a fly," Lydia mumbled in response.

Olivia narrowed her eyes and looked around; she didn't see any flies.

-

-

When Stiles had gone to get his wallet out of his backpack so he could buy his lunch, he definitely didn't expect the police to walk into the school. Many of the deputies were led by his dad, while some of the suited agents walking around were brought by Agent McCall. Even more shocking than the force's appearance was the reason for their visit.

"Wait a minute, wait a minute," Stiles rushed after Noah after being given a distracted response about why they were at the school. "The William Barrow? The shrapnel bomber? He was spotted nearby?"

Noah turned and stopped, giving the students who were on their lunch break and surrounded the hallways a nervous look. "A little closer than nearby, actually," he corrected Stiles, lowering his voice.

Agent McCall walked by them, the vice-principal at his side. "How do we get down to the basement? I need to know where every entrance is. I don't want anybody coming in or out of the school."

This was more serious than Stiles thought.

"Dad," he looked at his dad with wide eyes. "what's really going on here?"

It didn't take long to discover what was happening. Noah quickly explained that William Barrow had come into the hospital for surgery but had instead escaped. They followed him to the school and they were trying to find him before he ended up killing more people. The scariest part about William Barrow was the fact that he went after kids with glowing eyes.

That meant that Olivia, Scott, and Isaac were in trouble.

He quickly found his friends at the table in the cafeteria where he left them and ushed them out of the overcrowded room. Scott wasn't with them, but he told Olivia, Lydia, Isaac, and Allison what was going on and what—or who—William Barrow was after.

"Barrow went after kids with glowing eyes?" Isaac repeated in disbelief as the five of them wandered along an empty hallway on the second floor of the school. "He said those exact words?"

"Yeah," Stiles squeezed Olivia's hand, assuring himself that she was safe next to him. "and no one knows how he woke up from anesthesia. Just that when they opened him up, they found a tumor full of live flies—which, in any other circumstance, would be all kinds of awesome."

"Maggots coming from the body is a thing, but I've never heard of flies in the stomach," Olivia muttered thoughtfully.

Lydia stopped walking abruptly. "Did you say flies?"

The rest of them stopped with her.

"Lydia?" Allison prompted an explanation from the redhead.

"All day I have been hearing this sound," Lydia explained, pressing her lips together in frustration. "It's like this...buzzing..."

Olivia frowned in realization while Allison asked, "Like the sound of flies?"

That's why Lydia's tether lit up in econ, Olivia realized in dismay, her banshee powers were picking up Barrow at the school.

Lydia nodded grimly. "Exactly like the sound of flies."

It was quickly decided that they needed to split up and find Scott, since he was missing in action. With three floors to search, Allison and Isaac took the top, Lydia and Olivia took the second, and Stiles took the floor level. While they were trying to find Scott, they also had to avoid the police, who were doing their own search for Barrow.

Five minutes before the lunch period was over, Stiles found Scott outside of Mr. Yukimura's classroom. "Hey, dude, where the fuck have you been?"

Scott opened his mouth, but didn't get to answer, as Olivia and Lydia came storming up to them.

"The police are leaving," Lydia told them. "Why are they leaving?"

Scott winced in surprise. "The police?"

"They must have cleared the building and grounds, which means he's not here," Stiles told her.

Olivia shook her head in disagreement. "No, he has to be here," she insisted, her eyes traveling to her cousin. "Tell him, Lydia."

Stiles gave the redhead an expectant look.

"The sound, the buzzing I've been hearing? It's getting louder."

Stiles heart sank. "How loud?"

Olivia's eyes flashed purple. "Loud enough that I can hear it."

Yeah, okay, Stiles glanced between them, that's pretty loud.

Within minutes, Stiles found himself chasing his dad and Agent McCall—along with other deputies and FBI agents—to the parking lot. "Dad, Dad, you can't leave yet!"

"We got an eyewitness that puts Barrow by the train station," he dad explained.

"Let's go, Stilinski!"

Noah went to follow McCall, but Stiles stopped him.

"Dad, please...Lydia said that he's still here."

Noah's eyes widened slightly. "Did she see him?"

"Not exactly, no," Stiles grimaced; he hadn't exactly told him what Lydia was yet. "Well, not at all, actually. But she has a feeling. A supernatural feeling."

Noah turned his eyes away from Stiles in order to look at Olivia and Lydia, who had followed Stiles out of the school. While Lydia looked away, acting like she wasn't listening to their conversation, Olivia slapped on a sweet smile and waved at him.

He waved back at her and then looked back at Stiles. "Lydia wasn't on the chess board."

"She is now."

"Kanima?"

Why did his dad think everyone was a kanima? "Banshee."

"Oh, God."

"I know how it sounds, but basically, it means that she can sense when someone's close to death," Stiles explained rapidly. "And you know what Livvy is, okay, and she's got a bad feeling, too."

"Do these feelings tell them that I'm about to kill you?" Noah retorted, raising his eyebrows.

"I don't know," Stiles looked back at Olivia and Lydia, and this time, it was Lydia who waved at Noah.

"All right, look," Noah leveled him with a calm, yet stern, stare. "I'm not saying I don't believe, but right now, I'm going with eyewitness over banshee and anchoram. We're leaving the deputies here. The school's on lockdown till three o'clock. Nobody come in, nobody comes out. Buddy, that's the best I've got right now. That's the best I can give you."

"You're leaving me here," Stiles objected as Noah turned and ran away from him, joining McCall and his agents. "That is not—that is the worst!"

Betrayal, in its purest form. That's what he was feeling at the moment. How dare his dad just leave him here, ignoring his warning about Barrow? Why didn't he just drop him off at the firehouse when he was an infant? It was the same type of abandonment!

Okay, he was being dramatic, but still...

Well, finding William Barrow was up to them, now.

-

-

Olivia, Stiles, and Lydia met with Allison in an empty classroom. While Scott and Isaac, along with Ethan and Aiden, would search the basement and floor level, and Olivia, Lydia, and Stiles would search the upper levels, Allison would be sneaking out of school in order to go home and search through the Argent's bestiary for some kind of explanation on Barrow's stomach flies and ability to wake up from full-blown anesthesia.

"The bestiary is literally a thousand pages long," Allison stated as she opened one of the windows leading to outside. "if I'm going to find anything about flies coming out of people's bodies, it could take me all night."

"If you go to the find button in the word document, you should be able to search for flies," Olivia pointed out.

Lydia nodded in agreement. "And remember, the word in archaic Latin for fly is musca."

"Got it," Allison climbed out the window.

Lydia turned to Olivia and Stiles. "Where do we start?"

"Upstairs," Stiles answered. "Let's go."

An hour later, after searching the second floor for any sign of Barrow, they moved onto the third floor. The drawing room was the second room they searched on the floor, right after the room that was reserved for painting.

Olivia soon received a text message from Isaac, informing her that he and Scott were moving onto the floor level while Aiden and Ethan finished up the basement.

"Are they still in the basement?" Lydia asked her.

"Scott and Isaac moved on, but Ethan and Aiden are," Olivia answered, slipping her phone back into her bag. "The twins had to search the boiler room and then they're meeting up with Scott and Isaac."

"Fuck!" Stiles' sudden curse caught Olivia and Lydia's attention. "All the wolves, the majority of the students with glowing eyes are either in the basement or the first floor. An engineer could use a boiler room to blow up the whole fucking school."

Olivia cocked her head and disappeared into her mental map. There were no whispers warning her about her or her pack mates, no names floating through her head. Every tether on her map was safe, other than the slight pulsing from Peter and Derek's—which she assumed was because they were either still doing the alpha ritual or they were recovering from it. So, they were safe from Barrow, right?

But Lydia was still hearing that buzzing. She could hear it, too, if she dived into her cousin's tether. Barrow was still in the school, somewhere, but her powers weren't warning her about anything...

Why aren't there any warnings? She thought, almost frantically. William Barrow is here.

While lost in her head, Olivia missed the significant look that Lydia and Stiles shared. "We have to get them out," Stiles proclaimed. "We have to get everyone out."

"How do we do that?"

Like any other problem in their very problematic lives, Stiles had an answer. Within the next few minutes, he had pulled the fire alarm and was caught by Coach, who claimed that if he was younger, he would have punched him. He had also earned himself a week full of detention.

School ended while students piled out of the building for the drill, which meant that the lockdown was over. Olivia, Stiles, and Lydia joined Scott, Isaac, Ethan, and Aiden near the parking lot to see if they found any sign of Barrow.

"We didn't find anything," Aiden reported.

Scott nodded in agreement. "Not even a scent."

"It's three o'clock, so school's over," Stiles sighed. "If there was a bomb, wouldn't he have set it off by now?"

"I've got nothing," Olivia clenched her jaw, wishing that her abilities were giving her something to work with. "I'm not getting any warnings..."

Ethan raised his eyebrows. "Does that mean everybody's safe?"

"That's what she means," Isaac snapped at him in Olivia's defense. He then glanced at Lydia, thoughtfully. "but if you are hearing the flies..."

Lydia shook her head, just as lost as everyone else. "I don't know," she said sadly. "I just don't know."

-

Sirius knew that something was wrong with his girls. Lydia was hiding in her room and Olivia's face was snuggled into his fur as the two of them laid on her bed. The way her dog squirmed underneath her ear gave Olivia the hint that her anxiety was rubbing off on him. It made her feel bad; she rolled away from Sirius and onto her stomach, resting her chin on her forearms as her eyes landed on her boyfriend's figure across the room.

Stiles had opted to come over to her house instead of his, even though he would have been more comfortable in his house, with his own walls made up like a crime board. Even though Olivia had objected at first, it hadn't taken much coaxing for Stiles to convince her to allow him to set up a brand-new crime board on the large corkboard of her wall, which usually held pictures of her friends and family. She just couldn't resist the weirdo, especially when he pulled out four different balls of colored string—blue, yellow, green, and red—out of his backpack.

"Do you always keep those in there?" she had asked him. He had blinked back at her, almost innocently, and answered, "Yeah, why?"

So, now she watched the love of her life in his element; solving cases was what he was best at. Like her own personal, sexy Sherlock Holmes—she much preferred him to Benedict Cumberbatch.

"Okay, so green is solved, yellow is to-be-determined, and red is unsolved," Olivia hummed as Stiles pinned yet another piece of red string to connect a picture of William Barrow and one of the Eichen House. "What does blue mean?"

There were about three pieces of blue string that hadn't made much sense to her. The rest, she could somewhat follow.

"Blue is pretty," Stiles turned and winked at her. Her heart warmed, remembering the last time he told her that—his favorite color was blue, like her eyes.

"Well, yeah," she smiled as he sauntered over to her, plopping down onto the bed beside her. Sirius scurried off the bed, unnerved by the bounciness of the mattress. "but what does it mean in term of the investigation?"

"Nothing really," Stiles admitted. He leaned closer to her and brushed his lips on her forehead, just above her right eyebrow; her heart started racing. "It's different for each crime board. Today, it's the same as red."

Olivia pressed her lips against his, pulling back quickly. "You only have red on the board."

"Yes," Stiles rolled his eyes and laid on his back with a sigh. "I'm aware of that, thanks, baby."

Olivia shuffled closer to him and shifted so half of her body leaned against his. "I don't get it," she admitted, resting her chin on his chest as she studied his face. "Lydia felt Barrow at the school. And I did, too, it's just...I feel like my powers weren't working."

Stiles frowned and brushed his thumbs over her flushed cheeks. "What do you mean?"

"The tethers, none of them were giving any hint of trouble. When I looked at them, I knew that everyone in the pack was safe. Yet, when I dived into Lydia's, I could hear the flies buzzing. Just like her," she sighed in frustration. "It's so contradicting, it's maddening. And we didn't even find any physical proof of Barrow being there."

"Livvy, you've been right about this kind of stuff before. So has Lydia," Stiles comforted her, wrapping his arm around her shoulders to pull her closer against him. "and maybe the fact that you weren't feeling anything and Lydia was is a hint."

"What do you mean?"

"You know if your pack members are in trouble...What if someone who's not in the pack is who Barrow was after?"

Olivia cocked her head thoughtfully. "That makes sense," she mused. "but still, if he was at the school, the wolves didn't scent him."

"What if he didn't smell like himself? What if he changed his scent somehow?" Stiles bounced another idea off of her. "I mean, you said yourself that Lydia was right. Barrow was there. What if he, fuck, what if he changed into someone's gym clothes. Or he used some girl's perfume...What if he—"

Olivia sat up, her eyes widening in realization. "The chemistry lab. He could use chemicals to completely hide his scent. If they were strong enough, it'd be like he never stepped foot into the school."

Stiles grinned widely at her. "We are geniuses," he pecked her on the lips and then patted her butt. "Get Lydia. We need to go to the school."

-

Since Mr. Harris' tragic death, there hadn't been a science department head. If he was still alive, getting into the large closet of the school's chemicals would be infinitely harder because Harris was known to stay late after school. Now, though, with Stiles' lock-picking skills, it was easy to break into the senior chemistry lab where the closet was located.

Now, Mr. Harris was a dick, but he was the only science teacher who knew what he was doing at Beacon Hills High School. With science being Olivia's favorite subject, he had been her favorite teacher, of sorts—she purely respected him for his knowledge, not his attitude. For the first time since his death, Olivia didn't mind that he was gone.

Yeah, she knew how horrible that sounded. Ultimately, though, Mr. Harris had helped Kate Argent set the Hale house on fire—who went around telling random women ways to get away with arson? —and the fire led to most of the things that had gone wrong in her life.

"So, what are we looking for?" Lydia asked as they entered the room. Though Stiles and Olivia had brought her up to speed on why they were going to the school, some of the details were still kind of lost on her. She watched as Olivia frowned at the chemical closet and opened it, the key already in the doorknob. "That's supposed to be locked."

"Yeah, exactly," Stiles muttered, walking into the closet. "Notice anything else?"

Lydia inhaled and studied the closet. "It smells like chemicals," she realized. "You guys were right, they wouldn't have been able to catch his scent."

Olivia hummed and pulled out her phone, turning on its flashlight and pointing it at the floor. The three of them flinched when they saw the small puddle of blood on the floor; Stiles even got a little green around the gills, which wasn't surprising due to his slight fear of blood.

"Gross," he groaned quietly. "He was here, preforming very minor surgery on himself."

"Lydia, you were right," Olivia reached for her cousin's hand, squeezing it lightly. "Your instincts were right."

"Then why don't I feel good about this?"

"Probably because he was here to kill somebody."

"Kids with glowing eyes," Olivia mused. "but they're not part of the pack. Which narrows it down it down to..."

Lydia shrugged. "I have no idea."

"We gotta figure it out," Stiles decided. "Spread out, start looking for anything."

The girls did as he said, leaving the chemical closet. While Stiles started on one side of the classroom, looking through some of the lab tables, Lydia walked toward the teacher's desk, and Olivia searched some of the cabinets that held the lab equipment.

"Lydia," Stiles noticed that Lydia drifted toward the chalk board absentmindedly and saw that she was staring at a set of three numbers. "what are those?"

19. 53. 88.

"Atomic numbers," Lydia answered as he and Olivia moved to her side.

"Is it a formula?"

"No," it was Olivia who spoke this time. "Nineteen's Potassium. Fifty-three is Iodine. Eighty-eight is Radium. The first two make Potassium Iodide."

Olivia picked up a piece of chalk and started writing the atomic symbols next to their corresponding numbers.

19—K

"Potassium is K?" Stiles interrupted her writing.

Olivia nodded. "From Kalium, the scientific neo-Latin name."

53—I

"What's Radium?"

88—RA

"RA."

KIRA.

"Kira," Olivia breathed, her heart starting to race. "That's why none of the tethers were giving me anything."

"Guys," Lydia spoke up, giving them a horrified look. "Scott went to Kira's house for dinner."

-

When they got to Kira's house, Scott was knocked out, laying on the street next to his bike. Kira was no where to be found and when Stiles was finally able to wake Scott, he confirmed their suspicions.

"Barrow, he took Kira!" he exclaimed breathlessly as Stiles and Lydia helped him to his feet.

"We know. He was after her the whole time," Stiles patted him on the back. He glanced at Olivia, who had been talking to Isaac on the phone to see if he and Allison found anything in the bestiary. "What'd he say?"

"They didn't find anything," she reported, ending the call. "Just some stuff about flies and the dead. Nothing else."

"Well, we have to think of something," Scott said nervously. "He's going to kill her."

"I knew he was there," Lydia's voice deepened when it shook from the anxiety she was feeling. "How did I know that?"

"You heard the flies," Stiles said. "What do you hear now?"

Lydia was silent for a moment, listening, before she shook her head. "Nothing," she scoffed, disappointed in herself. "I feel like I can do this. But I don't know what to do. It's like it's on the tip of my tongue, and I don't know how to trigger it. I just—I sweat to God, it literally makes me want to scream."

Screaming, the most known way of communication from a banshee. "Then scream, Lydia," Olivia urged her. "Scream."

The scream that burst from Lydia's lips was the loudest any of them had been yet. While Olivia covered her ears and flinched back, she mused that it might have been because it was the first time Lydia was actually cooperating with her abilities. Despite the pain that being a banshee could bring her cousin, she was proud of Lydia for using her powers for good.

Lydia's tether flared and shook, but it held strong. Lydia was strong.

A full minute later, Lydia's screamed died down. The redhead didn't move, still turned away from Olivia, Stiles, and Scott. A noise caught her attention, the buzzing noise. She followed it, looking up at the streetlight hanging above her. She quickly turned around, causing Stiles to flinch.

"It's not flies," she told them. "it's electricity."

As Scott looked up at the light, Stiles twisted his lips. "Wait a second," he thought aloud. "Barrow was an electrical engineer. He worked at a power substation."

"What substation?"

He squinted, trying to remember the information from some of the papers he pinned to the crime board in Olivia's room. "The one by the Iron Works."

-

Scott drove ahead of them on his bike, arriving at the power substation in the Iron works couple minutes before Olivia pulled up with Stiles and Lydia in her car. Scott had already run into the building and Stiles was jumping out of his seat the second Olivia shifted into park.

"Okay, wait here," he told Olivia and Lydia. "Just wait for the cops to come."

"Stiles, I'm coming with you—"

Stiles cut Olivia off before she could protest more. "I have only one bat, Livvy. Please, please just wait."

Olivia felt her heart starting to ache from the panic pumping through her. "Stiles, if you die, I'll kill you."

Stiles only winked at her before running off into the building. Lydia climbed into the passenger seat while they waited, tightly squeezing her hand. It wasn't long before Scott's red tether was pulsing painfully and seconds later, Stiles' and Isaac's started up, too.

Scott, Stiles, Isaac...Scott, Scott, Scott...Isaac, Isaac, Isaac...Stiles, Stiles, Stiles...

There was an explosion; bright lights came from the inside of the substation and then everything went black.

"SCOTT? ISAAC? STILES?"

(Gif is not mine)

[dercolaris]

Broken

Hey guys. Today there is something different than usual. No Scriddler :/ *sadness intensified!*

I started writing stories in the Batman universe seriously in 2016, but often without any paarings at all in the beginning. It was mostly based on friendship between characters. I decided to translate this one with Harleen and Jonathan, because I was kind of thinking about it today. Maybe some of you will enjoy it, I don’t really know. 

Song: https://youtu.be/P2H4tCc9E3U

"Hey boss! Look what we have over here!” The thug rubbed his white-painted chin, stared at the lifeless body in the water in front of him. The leader of the squad appeared behind him and looked past the large muscular shoulder into the black and almost frozen liquid. He paused for a moment, then mumbled confused to himself: “Fucking god. Is that him?" The man shook his head in pure disbelief, then screamed at his henchmen:" Come on guys! We need to get him out of there! Otherwise the poor soul will freeze to death in seconds. And be fucking careful you idiots!” The tallest thug of the group stepped further on the pier, then bent down to lift the lifeless body up. It was unusually light. The muscleman carefully laid the man's body on the wood. The leader of the squad rubbed the back of his head, then spoke hesitantly to his followers: "We urgently need to report this to Joker or at least Harley I guess. Holy fucking shit. I always hate to do that. Wish me luck guys." He grabbed his walkie talkie and radioed the headquarters. After a short wait there was a loud cracking noise, followed by a deep male voice: “What is it?” The leader of the patrolling group replied excitedly: “We have found a body in the murky water that looks a lot like Scarecrow. What should we do with him?" A few seconds passed when the radio crackled again: "Are you guys sure that it's really Scarecrow?" The thug looked down at the demolished body, got on his knees and tried to wipe the mask carefully away. At that moment the body came to life, firmly grabbed the leader's forearm and panted heavily in the cold air. His head moved spastically, apparently looking for something. The injured man wanted to get up, supported himself with one hand on the wet wood. There was a croak like sound from his throat as he tried to talk: "What are you doing to me?" The henchman carefully placed his hand on the man's shoulder and gently pushed him back to the ground. He spoke softly: “Take it easy, Doc. We won't hurt you, promise.” The words calmed down the man on the pier. His grip loosened until he finally let go completely. A deep sigh came from his bleeding throat. The leader operated the radio again and spoke into it: “We are 100 percent sure. What should we do now? He's in miserable condition, about to freeze to death and yeah, he's probably bleeding out right now." The walkie talkie crackled for a few seconds without any new information, then a female voice suddenly replied: "Take him to the sawmill as soon as possible. I will take care of him here. And don't say anything about this to Puddin. That remains our little secret, gentlemen."

With these words, the radio died, only emitting a faint hissing noise. The mostly dumb thugs on the pier looked at the squad leader. He only nodded slowly towards his men and spoke loudly to his followers: “You heard the lady. Let's take him to the sawmill. And not a single word to the boss! I want to keep my balls for a while.” The tallest of them lifted the body of the rogue, laid him over his shoulder and carried him the short way to the sawmill. The guards there were already privy to it, only stepped aside when they arrived without a word. It was unusually warm inside. They went up the stairs into the former office department of the business, knocked a few times on the wooden door. The leader pushed the door open and stepped inside, lowering his gaze. He didn't know about the lady's mood. Sometimes she vented all of her anger on her servants, so it was safer to remain submissive. Harley sat at a desk with her feet on the metal surface and chewed very sweet bubblegum out loud, then looked up from her cell phone. “It was about time,” she grumbled, getting up from the chair, “where is he?” The leader waved the thug to come inside. The muscleman carefully carried the body through the door. Harley stepped closer and examined the body, her eyes grew bigger every second. She mumbled softly: “Oh my god. Who was doing this to him?Is he still alive or what?" A faint gasp came from the mouth of the man believed dead. The young woman put her hand on his partly open cheeks, gently stroking the flesh. She looked up and pointed to a door behind her. Together they entered the strongly heated adjoining room. In this was an old bed. The mattress was already sagging, but that probably wouldn't bother the patient. The henchman carefully laid Jonathan on the bed and took a few steps back, clearly confused what to do next. Harley nodded to the men, then spoke surprisingly calm: “You did very well, guys. Take a short break and then back to the pier. Who knows what else washes up in Gotham tonight.” The patrolling group nodded in understanding and then withdrew without to many noises. The door closed behind them, bringing a moment of calmness to those who remained. Harley sat on the edge of the mattress and put a hand on the former psychiatrist's cheek. He winced hard, tried to raise his own hand. Harley took his fingers and squeezed gently, then spoke quietly to him: "It's all right, John. You are safe now. It's... not so bad."

The Master of Fear blinked slightly, then apparently looked into the eyes of the clown. His voice was nothing more than a croak: "Don't lie to me, Harleen." The young woman examined the battered body a bit more. One of his arms was broken several times, as were both of his legs. The nose and lips were almost entirely missing from his face. They had literally been torn from his skin. Something similar had happened to his cheeks. His eyes stared into empty space. They still responded a bit, but they were faded into a light grey tone. Harley bit her lip lightly. He was most likely blind by now. She leaned closer to him and breathed softly: "As you wish. It doesn't look good, John. Can you see anything? I mean, maybe a faint glimpse of light or something.” Jonathan blinked again, trying to meet her eyes. He didn't succeed. The former psychiatrist suddenly became stiff, probably realizing what had happened to him at that moment. His good hand came to rest on his disfigured cheek. He touched tentatively, winced from the pain. The clown was breathing a little faster, looking behind her in a chest of drawers for a disposable syringe and a cannula. There were already some bottles of medicine on the wood. She hummed softly as she searched for the right painkiller. She found the morphine in the whole mess of strong medication and drew it up with the plunger. Harleen turned back to Jonathan and sat down on the edge of the mattress again. The young woman checked the pressure, then pushed the rags off his arm. There were wounds there too – wounds like those of a wild animal. She put the needle to his pale skin and gently pushed the cannula into one vein. Hopefully the remedy would work quickly on him. Harley cleaned the puncture site with a swab and pulled the pressure off. He must have lost enough blood already. Finally, she put a small plaster with a dinosaur army on his arm. A small smile lurked on her lips. She loved those bandages, to Puddin's annoyance of course. He berated her as childish and not very humorous. The crazy girl had a very different view on this, but to discuss with Joker was almost impossible. At that moment, however, this unimportant argument was of no concern anyway. She watched Jonathan relax slowly. The remedy worked. Harley rose again and opened the bottom drawer. There she looked for sewing kits and bandages. Behind her came the hoarse voice of the former psychiatrist: “I don't see anything, Harleen. I just don't see anything.” The addressed villain lingered briefly at the chest of drawers, staring at the worn wood. She took a deep breath and said slowly: “I know, John. Whoever did this to you tried hard to completely dismantle you. It's a miracle that you are still breathing and are among us."

Jonathan remained silent on this answer, dropping his good arm on his damaged chest. Harley brought the material to the bed and turned to face the door. She spoke softly: “I'll get some water and disinfectant for a moment. I'll be right back.” With these words the clown stepped out of the room and went to the dirty bathroom. Couldn't the henchmen even leave something clean for once? She shook her head slightly and picked up a bowl and filled it to the top with warm water. The young woman returned to the office, dragged a chair up to the bed. She gently felt a wound on his leg. There was no response from the older man. Apparently the morphine was working on his brain. She looked into the demolished face and said soothingly: "I'm starting to clean the wounds on your legs, disinfect them and finally stitch them up. Is that okay for you, Prof?" The man on the mattress only nodded slightly, then finally closed his eyes. Harley fumbled in the mess of materials for useable scissors, started to cut the grey fabric from his legs. Her breath stopped for a second. Some of the wounds were inches deep, near the bone. Slowly a suspicion crept into her mind. She cleaned the largest of the wounds with a handful of swabs and asked him nervously: “What happened, John? Do you remember anything?" The person addressed gave a low grunt, then apparently was lost in his thoughts for a while. He then replied, almost in a whisper: “I had a new sample of the fear serum and wanted to drop it into Gotham's groundwater. That was in the underground catacombs of Arkham. Batman was there too, and then something caught me off guard in the water. After that everything is just spongy in my memory.” The young woman nodded slightly, then cursed herself for the typical reaction. He was blind after all. She replied quickly: “Do you have any idea what caught you there in the water? Those injuries indicate a beast or more a monster.” The former psychiatrist frowned, puckered the scraps of skin on his bones. After a few seconds he replied dryly: “I guess it was Waylon. Killer Croc.” Harley cringed a bit and tried to shove the thoughts about the crocodile away, now sewing up a small wound on his right leg. He didn't feel the punctures, or at least didn't show it. She smeared some iodine on the stitched up area. Harleen would need a lot of that. The young woman sighed softly, then answer muffled: “I had already suspected it. You look like you've been gutted by an animal. Especially your face, John. It's a nightmare.” The older man shifted a little on the mattress. His voice croaked harshly: “This is all Batman's fault. If he hadn't stopped me, I would never have fallen into the water."

The clown looked into the light grey eyes of the Master of Fear and pulled her lips into a fine line. Was it right to blame Batman for this? Definitely to some extent, but the main culprit was Killer Croc. Harley looked again at the wounds in front of her and said calmly: "Do you really think it's Batsy's fault alone? I mean, he's always in the way, but in the end he wasn't chomping on your organs." The former psychiatrist laughed hoarsely. He raised his hand a little and spoke calmly: “How can one harbour an abomination on a wild animal? No, Waylon only did what an animal like him does. The Dark Knight should never have cornered me so much. He wasn't even checking on me, when Croc got a hold on me and pulled me into the sewers. No, Batman is absolutely to blame for everything that went wrong that night. He alone. And the Bat is going to pay for it – so much that Gotham will finally sees what a failure he is.” The young woman looked worriedly into the doctor's disfigured face. He had made his decision. The clown went back to closing the wounds on his body. In addition, she splinted the broken bones, starting with his left leg. The older man remained calm throughout the procedure. Whether it was the morphine or his extreme self-control, Harley didn't exactly know. She finally got to his face, staring into the former psychiatrist's empty eyes. The loose fabric of his mask was still over the torn skin. Suddenly his good hand took hold of the young woman's forearm. She didn't resist, just looked calmly at the suddenly tense face. He croaked softly: “Sew the mask directly on my face, Harleen. Otherwise you'd have to skin someone to patch me up again." The young woman froze for a moment, then spoke just as softly:" I would kill a thousand men for you if it helps you John." The Master of Fear shook his head slightly and replied weakly: "To finally beat Batman I need to be whole, Harleen. Set Scarecrow free.” The clown moved her arm a little and freed her hand from him. She took a few deep breaths, then took another swab. Slowly her fingers worked the torn face of the man in front of her. Finally she put the sewing material on the mattress and looked at the result. The mask and his face were now one. The deep voice of the man in front of her made her shudder: “I thank you, Harleen. Without you I would still be out there in the icy water, probably frozen to death." The crazy woman leaned back in the chair, then said jokingly:" You have to thank the thugs who had more than a few brain cells and not confusing you for a worthless piece of burlap." The former Psychiatrist laughed softly, then coughed a bit. He was still far from being healthy, but the first step had been taken.