#bring her back for no way home cowards!!!

[dutybcrne]

Thinkings thinkings of Fatui!Kaeya have been reawakened in reviewing Arle's teasers/animations

#☆ ┆ ( .ooc. ); #//Whether it's Dad!Pierro or not; I do love the idea of him being left in the care of the Fatui/House of Hearth #//Tho timelines considered; he prolly would be in Pierro's personal care while Arle goes through her Traumatic Matricide Experience #//Doubt the man would want to leave him out of his sight; Khaenri'ahn/Alberich ties considered #//Or maybe he was raised/trained to fight under Signora. Or even for Columbina (her namesake's ties to Pierro's; considered) #//Tho also do LOVE the idea of Kae and Taru growin up together in the Fatui ranks and being the disastrous + shy boi duo #//Tho Kae'd prolly have less to hide/fear with them when it comes to his heritage. The strictness he'd be raised with though... #//Eh; Taru could bring him out of his shell even still jdbgfkf. If anyone can; he deffo could. His little wintry sunshine #//So maybe he'd grow into his peacock self a little more naturally; even if perhaps still out of necessity/for ease of his missions #//Less of a facade to hide his grief/missing pieces tho; more like the way Taru is charming & goofy to lower people's guards #//Still has his little habit of testing people deffo is Much worse and much more sadistic when it comes down to it #//Particularly towards fellow Fatui who disrespect him or their comrades; or just someone he ends up disliking in general #//Does 'test' new comrades; but is more willing to step in & help them if need be. Wants UTMOST trust; determination & loyalty in his men #//So will only ever take those who push to complete the mission at all costs; even themselves/willingly ask him for help when they need it #//Dislikes those who run; & LOATHES cowards who abandon comrades to save themselves; he WILL deliberately make sure they don't make it back #//Still employs his intel gathering methods as normal verse; but has preying mantis tendencies when it comes down to it nbcfjgf #//ESP if they try to take advantage of/blackmail him in some way. Or worse; those who betray him. He is meticulous & VERY ruthless abt it #//His signature is decapitation & an unmelting (Abyssal energy-laced) ice shard through the heart; around which he'd carve a stylized one #//If those informants keep being useful to him; they are safe; and treated so lovingly by him; spoiled rotten with gifts & favors aplenty #//Once they lose their usefulness...well; regrettably he cannot leave any loose ends. These become frozen as statues for him to keep #//'Precious mementos of lovers & conspirators'; he'd call them. He'd keep them in his private home in Snezhnaya #v; glacialis pavonis (fatui!kaeya) #//If he had to have a Harbinger title/name (maybe bumped up for when Scara erases himself); he'd prolly be l'Innamorato #//Fitting of his methods (is also the remaining role of Commedia dell'arte lololol). He is saccharine sweet; pretty & deadly as a belladonn #//Deffo would have tango-based motifs rather than waltz; would favor frost-laced roses. Might even leave those with his victims too #//Can you tell I listened to Rondo Across Countless Kalpas as I wrote this up jhbfjgkfhf #hc; kaeya #//I mean yeah lol. I have so many more thinkings abt this verse aaAAAA #//Am torn if I want his to use a Cryo Delusion; or have him with Cryo Vision and an Anemo Delusion. Do like that for Cryo Swirls #//Then his rage/scorn could be likened to a Blizzard. Do like that image. Deffo favors his Abyssal powers more tho; maybe THAT'd be better

[risuola]

hi I hope you’ve been doing well <3 could you possibly write Gojo making female reader! cry during s^x and her using her safeword? basically the aftermath of that as well. tysm 🫶🫶

SAFE WORD — F. READER x GOJO SATORU

Satoru got back home angry and that got him carried away. contains heat, regret and aftercare.

cw: smut, rough sex, usage of safe word and aftercare, reader discretion is advised — 1k words

a/n: hiii anon! thank you, i’m fine! could I possibly write for gojo? yes. no matter what, the answer most likely is yes, soooo without further ado-

Fucking cowards. The higher ups, with that rotting bastard Gakuganji included. Always so mouthy while hiding behind matted veils, always forcing their authority over everything Gojo does, always expecting something that stands against everything he believes in. The hell did they even mean when they tried to order him to hunt down a kid that they think might be a threat. A kid?

“Satoru, slow down-“

And they really thought that he, Satoru Gojo, will jump into action to execute a teenager that probably have no idea what is even happening to him? The boy was at most sixteen. Those assholes, they really fucked up his mood.

You noticed Satoru wasn’t exactly in the right space of mind when he came back home, later than usual, smashing the doors behind him and throwing his jacket off carelessly. It had to be a bad day, you knew him well enough to recognize it and with some amount of certainty, you could tell he got caught up with the higher ups. They had an unparalleled ability to make Gojo loose his cool and you really hated seeing your love so upset, so when he grumbled a little hi against your neck, you took him to bed in hopes to relieve some of the tension.

But Satoru’s mind was somewhere else when he was pounding into you ruthlessly, unloading his frustration with his hips colliding with yours time after time, each one harder, stronger, harsher. His mouth wandered all over your neck and chest, leaving bruises and bite marks and you tried to slow him down by tugging at his hair, pushing at his abdomen and scratching his back, but with no effect.

“Shh, you can take it, sweets,” he mumbled an auto-response, picking up the pace even more and pressing your wrists onto the mattress above your head, somewhat annoyed at the way you tried to push him away. Satoru sometimes forgets how strong he really is, how easily he can overpower you with his looming presence but usually, you can take his rough side with pleasure. You really can, and you also like the harsh attitude he sometimes gives you, so contrasting to his usual playful nature, but now he seemed to forget that if he wishes to be the bad guy he really has to put in effort to prepare you for that. This time, as he got up home so worked up and so in his head, he skipped all of the foreplay, cutting straight to the chase and it might have been still fine if he went slower. But he didn’t.

“Satoru, please, it hu- ah-“ you tried to bring him back from his mind but all it did was to push his buttons more. And when he squeezed your wrists harshly, you felt like your bones might just snap underneath the sheer force of his grip. A tear that rolled down your cheek went unnoticed, as his face was buried in the crook of your neck, leaving purple his marks all over the delicate skin over your racing pulse.

“Pikachu!”

Gojo’s mind snapped to place in a split of a second. Every picture he had in front of his brain dissolved into nothing, as suddenly he became painfully aware of his current position. An endless chain of apologies spilled from his mouth as he pulled out and wrapped both of his arms around your middle, rolling onto his back and cuddling you to his chest.

“I’m so, so, so sorry, baby,” he cooed tenderly, kissing your wrists profusely, then kissing your neck, going over every spot he had left there, surprised to even see all of the bruises and teeth marks showing on your skin, because he didn’t even register when he made them. “God, I’m sorry. I didn’t-“

“It’s alright, Satoru,” you muttered, feeling yourself relaxing finally in his warmth. “I’m alright, don’t apologize.”

“I made you cry, my baby, I’m sorry,” he said again, pulling the covers over your bodies and tucking you carefully.

“Satoru, love, I’m okay,” you reassured, pressing your lips to his chest, trying to calm him down. It wasn’t often that Satoru was in the state of panic and you could feel him sliding into one as he caressed you, afraid that he’s hurt you.

In Gojo’s mind, all what just happened was nearly equal to him straight up beating you and that, he couldn’t forgive himself. How could he get so carried away to hurt you? It didn’t make sense, you didn’t deserve it and so, afraid you’ll leave him, he tightened his hold on you, whispering more and more sorrys into your hair, and you listened, allowing him to spill it because if he didn’t, he probably wouldn’t sleep for a month.

“Oh, baby,” you cooed finally, shifting slightly and resting your chin on his sternum, “what happened today? Did you talk to the elders?”

By the way he closed his eyes and exhaled deeply, you could tell you hit the spot.

“Do you know what they ordered me to do?” he threw, smoothing his hand over your hair. “They wanted me to hunt down a teenager and kill him. A literal child.”

“Aaand, did you tell them to go fuck themselves?”

“Of course I did.”

“Good boy,” you praised, smiling softly and reaching up to cup his cheek. “So, we’re gonna need to find that kid and take care of him before they order someone else to kill him, huh?”

“I guess so,” he finally let his features soften enough to curve his lips up. The warm feeling of your palm against his face made all of his worries go away and he kissed your hand few times and your wrist also for good measure. “But I can’t believe they had the balls to ask me something like this knowing what I stand for. They even dared to argue with me, threatened to remove me, can you imagine?”

“Don’t worry baby,” you chuckled, moving up and hovering your mouth above his. “I’ll protect you from those old farts, you don’t need to be so tensed and afraid.”

“Ah, that’s a relief,” he lightened up, glancing at your lips with anticipation, but instead of kissing him, you rested your forehead against his, touching noses as your thumb softly brushed over his cheekbone. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gojo #satoru gojo #gojo smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo imagines #jjk imagines #jujutsu kaisen imagines #gojo x you #gojo x reader #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #gojo fanfiction #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru #jujutsu gojo #gojo satoru angst #gojo satoru fluff #jjk angst #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen angst

[proxycrit]

Part 1 / Part 2

Emmet remembers when he and Ingo first brought Elesa to explore Celestial Tower, back when they were fourteen and thought they were immortal.

“Allegedly, the bell chime will bring ghosts home”, ingo had told emmet with the pompous knowing energy of a child who read way too much brochures. “It’s culturally significant! We must ring it.”

“Hmmm,” emmet had responded suspiciously. “Brother. The bell is at the top of the tower.” The implication stands: Ingo, there are thirty flights of stairs between here and the top, and no elevator to speak of.

Don’t be a coward, Litwick had told Emmet with the blaise tone of somebody who’s going to be piggy backing off of somebody else. Go ring the bell. Tynamo, sensing a litten fight, floated towards a loitering blitzle.

Ingo turns his lilipup eyes on Elesa, who’s squinting at the carved stone faces of the front door.

“Elesa? What do you think?”

Elesa thinks. She shrugs. “We already made our way here,” she said in accented galarian. “Might as well make it the rest of the way. Ganbatte!”

Emmet sighs. “This is a mistake,” he tells the two in exhaustive patience, but lets himself be dragged into the building.

Last time the twins were here, Ingo caught litwick— but not before she managed to nab a good chunk of Emmet’s soul. It’s not terrible; he felt fatigued for a week and bounced back pretty quickly, but it was the principle of the whole situation— celestial tower’s a pain in the ass and Emmet will stand by that until the day he dies.

Like right now.

The map isn’t working. Emmet checked it once. He’s checked it twice. He’s taken out his pen and written on it, which he would usually never do but desperate times call for desperate measures. The compass he brought spins useless circles. It’s like chargestone cave up here, but worse because instead if electric pokemon it’s all ghosts.

“We’re lost, yyup yup!” He announced to the crew. “I vote we eat Ingo first.”

“I love you too,” Ingo told Emmet placidly. “But we all know between the two of us, you’re the tastier one.” Litwick gives Emmet a thumbs up. Emmet gasps in mock affront.

“Elesa, help!”

Elesa gives the two of them a wary look. It took two floors for her to realize this is not just a weird temple with strange rocks, but a full out graveyard. She’s not very happy about that development.

“Don’t drag me into this,” she tells them. “Teme wa urusaii.”

“I will take that as a compliment,” Ingo reports back.

Emmet, who’s cheerfully struggles with Galarian on a good day, simply gives her a thumbs up.

The three painstakingly crawl their way up. And up. If all else fails, Emmet told himself, at least they can orient themselves towards high ground.

“We’re like pidoves,” Ingo gasps. He has fallen behind them on the stairs, with Emmet taking the lead through sheer spite despite his legs going numb on floor twenty two. “We, hah, we are attracted by the magnet of the bell, like, like probopass-“

“I am emmet! You are not making, sense!” Emmet called back. Elesa, who’s stuck between them and looking two steps from perpetual collapse, giggles.

“No, no hear me out, Ingo wheezes. “What if the bell’s a magnetic pole? And that’s why your compass doesn’t wo, woo, hahh, work.”

Emmet stops to rest, just because Ingo is using precious breathing air to infodump. Elesa gratefully slumps against the railing. Tynamo and litwick, lazy in their still small size, have settled on a weary blitzle and look very smug doing so. (Emmet is not jealous, he tells himself. Emmet is also lying.)

“The bell’s important,” Ingo had repeated.

“Okay,” Elesa responds. “If it’s important to you, then it’s important to us.”

And Emmet finds that he agrees with Elesa. Partially because they crawled up twenty fucking three flights of stairs, but also because Ingo thinks this is important, so it is.

And here’s the thing—

— emmet doesn’t remember much after that.

The rest of that trip was a blur of exhausted groaning and burning legs, and by the time the trio managed to breach floor thirty, people’s brains have all but dribbled out their ears. Emmet remembers being disgustingly sweaty. He remembers blitzle almost tripping to death and litwick’s swearing. He remembers tynamo sticking to his neck like a damp towel. He remembers Ingo’s excited sneasel smile, and the way the sunset bounced off of Elesa’s hair.

He remembers the brassy ring of the Celestial bell. It sounded like victory.

But it was Elesa’s cackle turned scream as Ingo swiped cold hands down her neck that sounded like home.

—-

So when the conductor at thirty one, lost and disoriented in the Impossible Place, heard the sound of a familiar bell, ringing over and over and over-

-the sound of laughter-

-EMMET! Elesa cried-

-like a homing pidove, the conductor, thinks nonsensically as something in him perks up.

(Emmet had always liked winning, more than anything else, and the sound of victory calls him home.)

—

Elesa catches lightning in a bottle. Elesa, arms outstretched, finds purchase in her brother, and does not let go.

Emmet is so, so cold, Elesa thinks as the wind steals air from her lungs. (That’s okay. She’s already breathless from a terrible business called hope.)

Emmet stares back. His hands flap against Elesa’s jacket. Elesa desperately drinks in his wan face and too wide eyes and his frost bitten lips. In a tiny, meek voice, almost lost to the wind, he asks:

“Are you real?”

Elesa lets out an ugly sob. Her tears whip away in the wind as they fall. Emmet’s frightened countenance turns immediately to alarm. His shaky grasp becomes a solid grip as they spin through the air, cushioned by chandelure’s psychic.

“I think so??” Elesa warbles. She sees Emmet’s eyes dart to her mouth. He’s reading mirroring her, she realizes with giddy delight— it’s such an Emmet thing to do, to read lips, and-

“I am Emmet,” Emmet breathes. His eyes have started to water. “Yyou are Elesa- Oh dragons, Elesa!?“

Elesa reaches. Hesitates.

Emmet grabs elesa by the lapels and crushes her tight against him. Elesa holds on, and the grief and relief in her accumulates into a wet sopping mess. She’s ruining his jacket, she mourns, but its okay because he’s dripping all over hers.

She can’t hear what he’s saying into her shoulder, can’t read what he says, but everything’s okay because every part of her is chiming

You came back

You’re here

I’m not alone anymore.

Around them, the air distorts as Chandelure’s psychic wavers, flutters, and solidifies. Gravity reverses its call as they settle gently on the ground, dust billowing in all directions.

The ghost pokemon drops next to them, shaking so hard the musical clang of glass makes Elesa flinch.

You fucks, Chandelure gasps. DON’T GO LEAPING OFF BUILDINGS, I AM NOT YOUR EMERGENCY PARACHUTE.

“I’m sorry,” Elesa gasps, still giddy from the adrenaline.

AND YOU! Chandelure howls, whirling on Emmet, who’s still staring at the ghost with huge eyes. He’s gripping on to solid ground with the energy of a man who realized he could have been a splat on the ground.

YOU LEFT!

Emmet winces.

You- You left us, you left me-

Ah, ah no, Elesa thinks as golden globules of light shed from Chandelure. This is what a ghost looks like crying.

Emmet holds out his arms. Chandelure drifts into his embrace, and shakes, and shakes, and shakes.

You left me, the ghost pokemon whispers. How dare you. How could you.

“I didn’t mean to,” Emmet whispers. “I’m sorry.”

Stop doing this to me, Chandelure demands. Golden brine joins human tears, like drops of sun trapped in wet glass. Stop going where I can not follow.

And Emmet holds his tongue, because he knows he can not promise staying. Not while Ingo and Eelektross are still in Hisui.

(In the back of Emmet’s hurt and shattered mind is a spark. Synapses connect. The cold breach of the Distortion does nothing to drown out the sudden flare of hope in Emmet’s chest, so great he can not breathe, so strong he can not feel, because there’s a path. A difficult, painful path through the Space that Can Not Be, but a path all the same.)

“Elesa, Chandelure-“ Emmet’s voice breaks. He wants to tell them about Eelektross. He wants to tell them about the terrible past that is Hisui. He wants to explain how the last five months were filled with horror and wonder and fear and hope.

Hope, he thinks. So he says this:

“I know how to get Ingo home.”

NOTES:

AAAAAND THAT’S ALL FOR THIS DRABBLE. ITS OUT NOW. I CAN FINALLY GO BACK TO POSTING HAPPY SHENANIGANS! (Now you know the shape of their story.)

Thanks for reading this monster of a post!

#salvaging the ship of theseus #submas au #submas #ONCE AGAIN. MAKING THIS EVERYBODYS PROBLEM #hey look i did a funny little callback #remember the celestial tower as a Fun Time? #im about to make it BITTERSWEET. #emmet #elesa #chandelure #ingo #critterbitter screams into the void #critdraws #anyways uHh pls just know stsot is made from my worldbuilding notes #i dont know the shape of its ending yet and things are bound to change (which is why its on this acc instead of critterbitter! #feel free to postulate in the comments tho! i have other drabbles but drawing and writing hard) #((mostly? ingo taking care of the sneaslets. getting harassed by lady sneasler. confusing the local wildlife.)) #submas angst #with hopeful end? #submas fanfiction #fanfic #Spotify

[evilminji]

Gold can be exchanged for goods and services (o.o )

Pariah's Keep probably has a shit ton of Precious Goods from various places.

Danny is become King?

If Danny becomes King... then the Zone will somewhat obey him. The Crown and Ring could EASILY tell him where the next natural portal is, where it opens up, and for how long. How many there are. Could probably make a few.

Probably WAS supposed to be making them. Consciously. But, well, Coma(tm).

Would probably count as Kingly Duty to filter and collect. Clean Ecto goes out for souls that remain, a Gateway home for those that wish to LEAVE, so forth and so on.

Effectively, being The Grim Reaper. You don't CAUSE Death. You just guide the way home. If folks so choose.

And that's neat! Horrifying, but neat! And Danny can TOTALLY see how it would eventually drive him completely breakfast cereal fruity nuggets! LUCKILY, he's got a vaguely bro's/Mentor thing going with the ghost who has ALL OF POSSIBLE TIME flowing through HIS head! So Danny should be Gucci!

The headaches suck though.

But WHAT... to do with all this Gold and valuable Space Goods? Most of these aren't even recognized currency on earth! Like the Shells. You could buy a mansion with one of those... on the right planet. On Earth? Pretty paperweight. Hmmmm >.>

Wait.

WAIT!

<o> *points to top of head!* CROWN! It can? Predict and make PORTALS!

Portals lead any WHERE and any WHEN!

:O

Gold... can be exchanged for goods and services. He remembers, holding a gold brick, about to eat so, SO much pizza.

But WAIT! I hear you wondering! Surely, you mean? Within his past? The history and region of space he knows, right? Ha ha :) Nope! Cowards.

Danny is on the alien otter's planet, trading those sweet, sweet Shells for some snacks no human could eat and a shawl for his sister! He's hiding, badly, behind a food stall in the Martian market place. Hoping future hero J'onn Johnes doesn't notice him.

Lying to the Space Cops, bout where his untraceable Space Money came from, on an alien trading satellite. The Green Lantern's not buying it. Oh noooo >.> sudden Fright Knight. Looming Menacingly by the loading doooocks. Everyone's upset! Definitely not related to him! Better go check on that! :) *gets the heck out of dodge* (my king. Please stop using me as a distraction.) (No promises)

But! It's all fun and games? Until your human friends get sick. Like... REALLY sick.

And then you suddenly remember time and space mean nothing to you. One 15 minute flight that way, two doors, a quick flight of stairs, and a literal child's play place slide? You could be in the 32nd century.

That disease is AT BEST, an unpleasant afternoon, there.

Here, your friend could die.

You trade a student two Spanish dubloons. They have no idea what they are. Just like the look of them and know they're real metal. They walk into the pharmacy for you. Don't question your "social experiment paper" lie.

You're back in less then an hour.

The screaming argument about ethics and mortality lasts hours.

She still takes the medicine. Gets better. Won't talk to you for months. Because why does HER life matter more? Why bend the rules for HER? And you can't bring yourself to say what pulses as Truth from both Crown and Ring.

You could because she didn't Matter. Time... would not notice, nor change. She was in no way pivotal to the flow of history, must one more ant beneath its unrelenting march. Mattering only because those who love her CARE. Because one or two little things might change for the better.

But it takes the shine off of it, a little.

Being able to go to the FUTURE. Watch movies and see aliens and humans alike in the crowd. Read books and dance to songs from people who won't be born for hundreds of years. Eat snacks from the farthest reaches of the cosmos. Or the early BCs!

And that's BEFORE other time travelers clock him as That Shopping Guy. The one who keeps popping up... buying things. For what? Unknown. Probably dinner. Half the time it's food. Trinkets. Once it was a really, REALLY nice goat. (His aunt was THRILLED.)

It probably drives Bart crazy. Because NO ONE knows anything about the guy? Everyone just universally goes "oooh yeah! HIM! Yeah, he sure does Exsist(tm). Very... present and exsistant." Like that's not CRAZY! He has so many question. So Many! What is he even BUYING!? Why? Is there an order? Or is he winging it?!

*pulls out list* he needs ANSWERS!

@hypewinter @hdgnj @ailithnight

#dpxdc #dc x dp #dc x dp prompt #danny phantom #thinking with Portals AU

[unoislazy]

I am feral for Mizu and you’ve been feeding me well with your Mizu fics so thank you so much for your service!! 💕💕💕💕💗💗💗💗💗 i really enjoy your writing and the way you portray Mizu. With that said i wanna run a scenario by you and im just wondering how do you think it’d play out (if you like the idea enough to do a mini fic or headcanons that’d be awesome but if not then that’s okay and i understand 💕) hear me out, what if Mikio had a sister and she lived with him and Mizu during the time they were married, say her and Mizu bonded while they all live together but then their friendship blossoms into romantic love 🥺 how do you think that’d play out?

I Am No Coward

(Part 1)

Mizu x Fem! Reader

A/N: all of you guys are so nice and I love all of you. Thank you for the suggestion! This will be around a 4 part series that I hope to continue working on in the near future so BUCKLE UP

Also!

I am planning on making a Mizu x Black reader soon but I’m struggling on deciding a scenario for it. If anyone has any suggestions they won’t be to try out for it, I’ll take them with open arms!

Summary: You’re Mikio’s sister and todays the day you meet his new bride to be.

————————————————————

Days were quiet with you and your older brother Mikio. After you had been put under his care and he had been outcasted by the lord, you both lived on his land more on the countryside, away from those who would cast their unwanted opinions on to you.

You usually took care of the more mundane tasks, cooking, cleaning; Things Mikio never truly liked to do. He wasn’t against helping but he was usually too busy with the horses to ever truly give you a hand. You knew your brother was obsessed with trying to win back the favor of the Shogun and as much as you knew it wasn’t going to happen, you let him believe anyways.

Time went on as usual until one day Mikio had returned home with some news.

“I’ve been offered a wife.” He said plainly as he took off his cape. You stopped cutting the vegetables and turned to him with a smile.

“That’s great… right?” You smiled hopefully. Given that he was now deemed an outcast and he was an older man it was unlikely that he would find any matches at this point, so you were just pleased that someone had been offered.

“She has the eyes of an onryo.” Was all he said in response before walking over to you. He kneeled down, watching what you were doing with a watchful yet critical eye. He adjusted your hand, suggesting that you had been cutting wrong in the first place.

“And that’s a problem?” You asked, your smile dropping for a moment as you rolled your eyes at his wordless suggestion. You knew he truly had no say in what opportunities were offered to him, you both did. If he had anything to gain, he should take it. He sighed for a moment, looking down before answering,

“No, She’ll be here in three days.”

Your smile returned, pleased to know that at least your brother would experience something other than the constant stress of trying to win back his honor.

You didn’t care what his wife would look like, she could have blue eyes, green hair, and purple skin for all you cared. All you cared about was your brother being happy, and you hoped she would be the key to that.

Mikio used to be a much more upbeat man. He liked to bring light to dreary situations with a joke or some laughter, but he always knew when to keep it serious. However, after he had been outcasted it seemed like all the fun parts of him disappeared. He became so hellbent on training the horses to be the best they could be that he forgot to have fun or indulge himself in anything. You used to enjoy spending time with him and you were elated when you realized you would be put under his care, but that joy soon subsided when you realized just the effect a bruised ego can have on a man. He became closed off, irritable, and would barely even give you the time of day. He cared about nothing more than his honor and as much as you tried not to, you began to resent him for it.

But you kept your thoughts to yourself and went on with your life, hoping someone would come along and change him.

The three days had passed and it was time for his new bride to arrive.

And Mikio was nowhere in sight.

You sighed, disappointed in him, believing he was avoiding yet another responsibility that seemed to ‘get in the way’ of his horses. Even if you had suggested anything, he wouldn’t listen to you, he knew what was best for him.

At least that’s what he claimed.

You sat quietly outside your house, waiting patiently for the woman to arrive so you could greet her. If anything you were ecstatic to meet the mystery woman and you hoped you’d manage to get along with her.

It hadn’t taken long for you to see them approaching. The two women walked towards your direction, both holding two bags, presumably full of their belongings. However, the younger woman seemed to also be holding what looked like a sheathed sword.

You smiled, now standing and walking down the steps, excited to meet the woman. You watched as the two women made their way towards you, one older and one younger. The older woman had turned to face the house that you stood before and spotted you, giving you a wide smile before turning back to the younger woman who seemed reluctant to continue following.

You couldn’t blame her.

Marriage wasn’t something a woman had control over in your world, you just got lucky that you got placed under your brother's care; because of him you were also considered ‘disgraced’ so not many men would truly want you.

She finally made her way, after many unpleasant words from her mother, and stood at her full height with a very plain expression.

She was beautiful.

You examined her features for as long as you could deem polite, your eyes floated from her hair, to her dress, taking in her height, and then lastly taking notice of her eyes.

However, when it came to her eyes, you didn’t see the eyes of an onryo. You saw eyes that reflected a color you saw only in the sky above, you had never seen such eyes before, but you needn’t stare and make the woman uncomfortable, she just got here after all.

You walked towards the two women, an excited smile on your face as you greeted them.

“Hello! You must be the woman Mikio’s going to marry. What’s your name?” You asked happily, the woman stared at you for a moment, clearly in some inner battle with herself on what to do now that she’s in this position. You waited patiently, understanding that being forced to marry someone is not always the happiest thing to do so you did not want to push her.

Her mother, however, cleared her throat and sent a glare at the woman, you assumed from this she was the one who had set up this offer.

The woman sighed, looking back towards you and answering,

“Mizu, my name is Mizu.” She waited for a moment before looking at you, expecting you to say something before speaking up again and asking, “and you are?”

“Oh! I’m sorry, I’m Mikio’s sister.” You introduced yourself, you did give them your name but you figured it would be more helpful for them to know why you were there in the first place. With this new information Mizu seemed to relax just the slightest bit. Maybe she thought you were a concubine.

Gross.

“So, Where is the man?” Mizu’s mother asked, seemingly wanting to get the show on the road as she turned to you expectantly. You averted your gaze, a bit embarrassed as you answered,

“I’m actually not sure.”

With that answer both of the women stared at you like you were crazy.

“You may or may not be happy to know that Mikio often isn’t home. He’s usually out training his horses.” You explained, trying to subdue the urge to roll your eyes.

“I’m sure he’ll be here any minute.”

As if on cue, you could hear the thumping of hooves accompanied by the sound of a horse's whinny. You all turned to the source of the noise which just so happened to be the aforementioned man. You sighed a small sigh of relief, thankful that he didn’t make himself look too bad.

You snuck a small glance at Mizu, wanting to gauge her reaction to your brother and you noticed that her fists were balled up tightly and her face was scrunched. Just like you had expected, the marriage wasn’t her idea. You hoped to the gods your brother wouldn’t ruin this opportunity, if not for his sake than for yours, you were tired of only having his company and truly wanted someone else to be around.

Mikio yields his horse, stopping just in front of Mizu. The first words he uttered were,

“You’re not as hideous as I expected.”

If you could’ve gotten up on that horse and smacked the life out of that man, you would’ve. It didn’t have to be love at first sight but out of all the things to say when he first meets his soon to be wife, and that's what he says? In that moment you were disappointed to have introduced him as your brother.

“You’re a lot older than I expected.” Mizu responded, earning a quiet snicker from you. Between you and your brother there was a decent age difference. If anything you were closer to Mizu’s age which was quite weird in your eyes but… it’s a sign of the times you guessed. Mikio shot you a silent glare telling you to shut up, which you did and you acted as if you had done nothing wrong.

“Let’s get this over with.” He said plainly, guiding his horse back to the field. You rolled your eyes, turning back to Mizu who just watched him go with a very obvious glare on her face.

“I’m sorry about him but if it's any consolation, you won’t have to deal with him alone.” You mentioned, trying to be at least a little encouraging. Mizu looked at you, her glare subsiding as she gave you a very small smile. With that, Mizu’s mother quickly began to rush her inside, wanting to get her ready to be wed before the sun went down. You offered your assistance in getting her ready, the entire time taking it as an opportunity to get to know Mizu.

“I noticed you brought a sword, do you know how to fight?” You asked curiously as you carefully brushed the white makeup across Mizu’s pale face. You couldn’t help but admire the woman's beauty, sure she might not have had the face of a princess, but to you that didn't mean anything. Her eyes of course were the main feature but you had also taken notice of the curl that stuck out from her hair that was pulled up.

“I fought a bit in the past… I don’t know how much I’ll keep up with it though.” She answered with a sigh but she regained her composure once she had looked over to her mother who glared at her.

“I don't know, Mikio might enjoy someone to fight with,” You began, gaining her interest a bit as she looked back up towards you. “And if he doesn't, then I would love to learn if you’d be willing to teach me.”

She gave another small smile, acknowledging your attempt to lighten her mood.

Once she had finished getting ready, her makeup was done, she was dressed in all white, you and her mother took a step back to assess how she looked.

“You look perfect!” You exclaimed to which her mother slightly nodded.

“You look fine, now where is your brother?” She asked impatiently. You turned to her, about to answer but Mikio had already walked in before you could say anything. He had taken off his cape that he wore everywhere and walked past you without saying a word. You sneered at him, he couldn't even try to make an effort? He was more of a grump than you ever remembered him being.

The private ceremony went on with the help of Mizu’s mother. You had no role in the ceremony so you simply sat back and watched. You looked on and for a strange reason you almost wanted to stop them… you felt as if one of them was making a mistake and all though it wasn’t entirely clear who, you could take a wild guess and probably be right. Regardless, you sat back. Your opinion in this matter doesn't matter anyways even if you did have the courage to go out and say it.

Immediately after they had finished, Mikio stood up, handed his dish over to Mizu, and went on his way. You could see the subtle yet dejected look that came across Mizu’s face and you felt a pang in your heart. Sure he might not know the woman very well but the least he could do is act as if he’s even the slightest bit interested. You quickly walked over to Mizu and took the dishes from her hands.

“I’ll take those, don’t worry about them.” You smiled at her, again trying to offer some sort of comfort or reassurance but this time it led to no avail. Her mother had decided it would be best to get her ‘ready for tonight’ so they both walked out and into a different room, as they walked out though the expression Mizu held had shifted to one of confusion or fear.

You sat quietly as you cleaned out the dishes that had been sitting around from hours prior. The resentment you felt for your brother only doubled down by seeing his actions first hand. Was he the most disrespectful man to ever walk the earth? No, but you still expected better from him, and when he arrived home you weren’t going to let him forget it.

A few hours had passed and the sun had set long before your brother had finally deemed it an appropriate enough time to come home. The moment he did you stood up from where you were sitting and walked over to him,

“Whatever you’re about to say, I don’t want to hear it.” He said, already knowing you were going to complain. You looked at him up and down with a look of disgust, as if he had a choice in the matter.

“Well you're going to hear about it.” You argued.

“Can’t this wait?”

“You don’t even know what I’m going to complain about.”

“I don’t need to know what it is to know that it can wait for another time.”

“Oh sure, just so at that ‘other time’ you can shoo me away and say you have to take care of your horses, or you have work to do, or you're too busy.” You began to rant, much to Mikio’s dismay. This of course was not the first time you had gone off on him, and usually you were quite good at holding your tongue around him, usually his ego was too fragile to handle it, but you were not going to watch this woman sign her life with him just for him to look straight through her.

“You have been nothing but a slob and a grump all day and, I don’t know if you noticed, but you have a wife now. A wife that you called ‘not that hideous’ within two seconds of meeting her, are you serious?”

Mikio didn’t make a move to acknowledge any of your statements but you knew he was listening. You knew, even if it wasn’t exactly obvious, that he knew his actions were wrong, but Mikio was not the kind of man to admit to his failures and you knew that. You knew this argument would go nowhere but you at least hoped if he made a change, he would pretend he got himself to that conclusion.

“It’s not exactly like I’m marrying a princess.” He finally responded, his tone laced with sarcasm causing you to scoff.

“Any woman who has to be subjected to marrying you, deserves nothing less than to be treated like one, and if you wont, someone else will.” You spat, storming out of the room to leave the man with his thoughts, or lack thereof.

#x reader #mizu blue eye samurai #fanfiction #mizu x reader #unoislazy #mizu come home the kids miss you #bes mizu #blue eye samurai fanfic #blue eye samurai x reader #mizufics #mizubrainrot #mizu x you #mizu bes #mizu fanfic #I hate Mikio #blue eye samurai #blue eyed samurai #x female reader #x fem!reader #x female y/n

[luvyeni]

❛TREAT YOU BETTER❜ ( h. renjun )

p. huang renjun x fem!reader w. 5.1k+

warnings? smut, mentions of 🍃, unprotected sex, toxic relationships

— 𖦹 ( renjun hates your boyfriend, he certain he can treat you better) !

“You only won that game because of me, stop boosting.” Renjun watched his friends argue over nonsense as they rode up the elevator to haechans apartment. “Bullshit, you didn’t do a damn thing.”

They stepped off the elevator still arguing, “Enough.” Renjun shushed them both. “You’re both pretty, give it a rest.” They switched to arguing over who was pretty, to which he shook his head ignoring them as they walked down the hall.

“Where are you?” Renjun turned his upon hearing your voice, you were standing in front of the door, tears streaming down your face. “Because you won’t give me a key, now i’m locked out of our apartment, and you’re too busy with another girl to come let me in.” They all turned to you — you noticed to putting your hand to your mouth, whispering. “I look stupid crying, there are people walking past.”

They quickly turned making there way to the end of the hall where haechan lived. “Why doesn’t she have the key to her own house.” Jaemin, mostly likely high out his mind said, completely unaware of how loud he was. “Shut up.” Renjun slapped his arm, walking into haechans unlocked apartment.

“Wassup!” haechan yelled, his small apartment already drowning in the scent of weed and smoke. “Jesus haechan how many did you already smoke.” Jeno sat down on the couch. “Not enough, did you bring it?” Renjun threw the green substance at him. “You owe me 30 fucking dollars you ass.” He snapped, the boy had sent him on a run, thinking it was only 10 dollars, when in reality it was 30 dollars. “Thank you renjunnie.”

They all sat around, jeno began rolling up the weed into blunts, renjun mind went back to you, you seemed to live there, so why didn’t you have a key? Did you loose it? So why don’t you just go to maintenance?

Seems like jaemin had the same question, cause he soon spoke up. “Haechan, whose the pretty girl crying in front of the apartment down the hall?” Renjun rolled his eyes. “Who the fuck- Oh that’s y-n, she’s crying again?” Again? This was a reoccurring thing. “Again?” Jeno read his mind.

“Yeah, this happens at least once a month, her boyfriend is an asshole and won’t get her a key, so she’s constantly getting locked out.” He explained. “Why won’t she just go to maintenance and get one?” haechan shrugged. “He doesn’t let her do anything alone, i’m surprised she is out of the apartment while he’s not there, I don’t think she had class today.”

“What?” Renjun finally spoke up. “I don’t know, she doesn’t seem to go out without him unless she’s going to class, she’s our age too, he’s like 28 and everytime I see him, I see her follow behind him” Haechan said. “He’s trash though, I hear him always yelling at her over dumb shit, cheating on her.” Renjun felt himself getting upset – why stay with a person if you’re gonna treat them like that. “and she stays? Haechan shrugged. “Somedays I hear her leaving and then she doesn’t come home for a few days, but then she’s right back here, she’s real forgiving, a bit of an air head, sweet girl though.” He passed the blunt to renjun.

“I’m good.” Haechan retracted his hand with a “suit yourself.” Renjun couldn’t stop thinking about how the tears rolled down your face, as you begged for you sorry excuse for a boyfriend to come home. “Jun? you okay?” Jeno asked, he stood up. “Where are you going?” Jaemin asked.

“To go see if she got into the apartment, where else.” He said, haechan past the blunt to jaemin. “Be careful, her boyfriend isn’t only an asshole to her, he’s an asshole in general.” Renjun definitely wasn’t scared of a coward who treats women like trash. “I’ll be back.”

“Where are you?” You barely waited for your boyfriend to answer. “I’m on my way I swear, geez why are you calling so much.” You heard him slur his words, music playing in the background. “because you won’t give me a key, and now im locked out of our apartment.” You said, tears wielding in your eyes again. “hey come here.” You heard a females voice in the back. “and you’re too busy with another girl to let me in.”

You watched three boys walk past you, furthering your embarrassment. “and I look like a fool crying.”

“Then stop being such a crybaby, I told you i’ll be home soon, why do you need a key so bad, you don’t even leave the house often, why waste money on a key.” He yelled over the music. “You don’t let me out the house.” You here his slam down another drink. “Because you can barely do anything without my help, you’d get hit by a car if it wasn’t for me, don’t be an idiot.” He yelled. “Now stay there, i’ll be home soon.” Before you could say something, you heard the click of the phone.

You sighed, sliding down the door defeated. You don’t understand why you still stay, your boyfriend used to be a good person — or maybe he wasn’t and you were just blinded by his love bombing that you didn’t notice the red flags, but whatever it was, he didn’t used to be like that, that was the only reason you felt comfortable moving into an apartment went him, but that’s when things went to shit.

He began to come home late night, drunk and covered in hickeys, apologizing over and over, until he didn’t even apologize, instead he’d just say, “I came home to you, that’s all that matters.”

You knew how he treated you wasn’t good, but you were always a people pleaser, putting everyone before you — seeing the good in everyone, and even though everyone else fails to see the good in your boyfriend, you believe he’s somewhere in there.

“Are you okay?” a voice pulls you from your inner thoughts, your eyes travel upwards, meeting his eyes. It was one of the boys who walked past you. “Hi.” You stood up, brushing off your skirt. “I’m fine.” You spoke. “Are you locked out?” He pretended that he didn’t know anything, you looked at the door, then back to him, he was cute. “Yeah.”

“Do you have a hair pin or something?” You reached into your bag, moving things around, searching. “Uh, here.” You said, he took it from you, your hands touching, he gave you a slight smile, “could you…” He motioned for you to move. “Oh o-okay.” You stepped to the side.

You watched him work on the door, he wiggled it around a bit – until you hear a click, the door was unlocked. He pushed the door open, and the reason you were even crying, came running out the door. “peaches!” The dog jumped into your arms, licking your face. “oh baby you must be so hungry.” He watched your eyes light up, biting back a smile.

You turned to him, he handed you back the hair pin. “How did you do that? You aren’t a criminal are you?” He shook his head. “no, but my friend is an idiot who gets locked out of his bedroom a absurd number of times.” You smiled. “Thank you so much, you really saved me today, my poor peaches must’ve been so scared.” He nodded watching you pet the dog.

“I really wish I could pay you back some how.” He shook his head. “I have some money, hold on.” He quickly stopped you. “it’s fine, don’t worry about it, no one should stand out like that, plus now you can feed your dog, that’s enough for me.” You hummed. “You’re a godsend.” You said.

The dog began to whimper in your arms. “Okay peaches, let’s get you some food, say goodbye to the nice man.” Renjun patted the dogs head. “goodbye peaches.” He said. “And it was nice to meet you…” you said waiting for his name. “oh it’s renjun.” You smiled, “it was nice to meet you renjun, i’m yn.” He nodded. “Same to you.” You waved, walking into your house. “bye bye.” He waved back, waiting for you to close the door, before making his way back to haechans apartment. “did you fix it captain save a pretty girl.”

He rolled his eyes, sitting back down. “thanks to jaemin being a dumbass i got the door open using a bobby-pin.” Jaemin smiled, eyes hardly open. “You’re welcome.” He past renjun the blunt. “can you finally stop worrying and smoke with us?” he took the blunt from his friends hand — shit he paid 30 bucks for it.

They all stumbled out of haechans apartment, trying to make it downstairs before the uber got there. “I’m hungry.” Jaemin slurred, “me too.” Jeno said. He walked past your apartment, eyes squinting as he heard yelling coming from the other side of the door. “seems like her boyfriend is home — let’s go before the uber leaves.” Jeno said, renjun looked back at the door, before stepping into the elevator.

“You got into the house, what’s the big fucking deal?” your boyfriend yelled, the dog barked in your defense. “The big deal is someone had to basically break into our apartment because you were too busy fucking other girls to come and let me in.” You said back, he didn’t even deny it, groaning. “Jesus yn, you’re acting so controlling.” He says, “it’s not my fault you don’t go out, but you won’t stop me from living my life.”

“I don’t go out because you don’t let me!” You shouted, “Whatever, i’m going to bed, i’ll let you act like a baby on your own.” He stumbled back to your shared bedroom. “girls like you are so needy.”

You sighed, sitting on the couch — peaches climbed into your lap, cuddling into you. You thought about where everyone went wrong, how you got to this point. Then your mind slowly drifted to the nice boy who helped you earlier — it had been a while since a boy was the slightest bit nice to you, it felt girl. “I think he’s friends with that boy down the hall, he doesn’t seem as weird as him though.” You spoke to the dog, “He’s sweet.” You smiled to yourself, laying down.

“let’s sleep out here tonight.” You grabbed the blanket, the dog cuddled to your side. “night peaches.” You closed your eyes, drifting off to sleep, your mind on the boy with the lip ring who was your knight and shining armor.

Renjun hated his job at the café, it quite literally sucked ass — but somebody had to pay half rent and fund jaemins weed problem.

“Welcome to sm café how can I help you?” he said not looking up from the tablet. “What do you want?” His mind immediately took notice of the soft voice, his eye coming into contact with you. “oh?” You finally took notice of who was in front of you. “Renjun?” You smiled, almost forgetting your boyfriend was there.

“What can I get you?” Your boyfriend spoke up. “Two ice americanos, and a slice of chocolate cake.” You grimaced. “I don’t like ice americanos, I want hot chocolate.” You said, your boyfriend ignored you. “The cake alone is too much sugar, you’re already getting chubby.” Renjun wanted to jump over the counter and punch the man as he watched you step back, lowering your head.

“You got that?” the man asked him rudely, he looked at you – you shook your head. “two ice americanos and a chocolate cake.” He typed it in, “here or to go?” Your boyfriend turned to you. “Here.” You said meekly. “I don’t understand why, but here – go find a table.” You quietly walked away. “Girls man, so fucking annoying.” He watched your boyfriend laughed. “you get it don’t you?”

Renjun rung up the card, handing it back to the asshole in front of him. “No.”

You sat down at the table in the back, you watch your boyfriend laugh at something, handing a stoic renjun his card, his face made you laugh, your boyfriend was never a funny person. You lowered your smile as your boyfriend sat down. “What a bum kid, why come to work if you’re not gonna be happy.”

“Well he does get paid like 5 dollars an hours so.” Your boyfriend eyed you. “He should be grateful, you younger kids never want to work.” You squint your eyes. “you’re 27.”

“Why are you defending him, now that I think about you seemed so surprised, you know that kid?” You could see where this was going, and you definitely didn’t want it to be in public. “He’s friends with the haechan.” Your boyfriend shrugged. “Who?” You shook your head. “Don’t worry, he’s just the one who helped me get into the apartment.”

“He’s the someone?” he put the emphasis on the he. “I mean it wasn’t like I had a choice, peaches was scratching at the door.” You said. “Whatever.” You could tell he was jealous, by the way he pulled his phone out, closing you out. “all he did was help.” You said. “I said whatever drop it.” So you did, not wanting to get loud in public.

“Here you go.” Renjun came over holding a tray, sitting your things on the table. “Two americanos and a chocolate cake.” You nodded. “Thank you.” You smiled, he felt like he could go on for the rest of the day. “You’re welcome.”

Your boyfriend scoffed, once renjun walked away. “What?” you said, he put his phone away. “You seem so fond of him.” He took a sip of his drink, standing up, “wait where are you going? You said you’d stay until you have to go to work?” you frowned. “I suddenly got called in, you can stay, don’t waste that, call an uber home.” Before you could answer, he was leaving out the café door.

“What a fucking asshole.” Renjun turned to his co-worker. “Who?” he asked, looking around. “That couple over there, he just got up and left her.” He followed their eyes to you. “She looks so sweet, how she get stuck with a dick like that.”

Renjun saw your sad face as you picked with your cake, with a frown as you took a sip of your drink, grimacing at taste. “She didn’t even want that.” He said to himself. “What?” he shook his head. “i’m gonna make a hot chocolate and take my lunch break.”

‘I’m going out tonight, don’t wait up’ you closed out the message, not bothering to answer, getting extremely frustrated at your situation. “here.” A cup with steam was sat in front of you. “The hot chocolate you wanted.” Renjun sat in the seat where your boyfriend sat.

“You didn’t have to.” You said, “Don’t worry about, owner gives us a free drink every day.” You smiled, taking a sip. “Thank you.” He nodded. “it seems like I keep owing you for doing things.” You chuckle to yourself, he thought it was cute. “You seemed like you needed it anyway.”

You frowned, “I guess it’s pretty obvious.” You said. “That your boyfriend is a dick?” you chuckled, he smiled. “yeah I guess.” You said. “He wasn’t always like that though.”

“I believe you.” He said, “some people change, whether it’s good or bad, they change.” You nodded. “I guess.” He didn’t know you that well, but he just wanted to wrap his arms around you and hold you close to him. “Renjun! Your 15 minutes are up, let’s go!” he cursed under his breath, wanting to sit with you longer.

“it looks like duty calls.” You smiled at him, he got up. “are you gonna be here longer?” he asked. “I think i’m gonna finish this and then head home.” He nodded. “Renjun!” he turned to his coworker. “I’m coming!” you chuckled, “go before you get in trouble.” He smiled, you waved him off.

“Bye renjun.” You waved on your way out. “Bye yn.” He watched you get into your uber. “here.” His coworker slapped a tissue on the counter. “What is it?” he picked it up, reading the number. “I assumed she didn’t leave it for me.” He stuffed the tissue into his pocket, fighting back a smile as he got back to work, his mind full of you getting him through the rest of his shift.

He texted you that same night once he got home, you had told him that you were waiting for his call, which made his heart flutter — both of you talked and talked all evening, until jaemin came bursting through his door talking about hitting the bong with jeno, to which made you chuckle. “Ooh are you talking to a girl?” jaemin said in a singsong voice.

“Get the fuck out.” Renjun threw a pillow at the boy. “Hurry before it’s all gone.” He closed the door. “He seems fun.” Renjun scoffed. “he’s annoying.”

“we’ll i’ll let you go smoke with your friends.” He was gonna kill jaemin, you had mentioned earlier how you didn’t really enjoy the smell or the feeling of weed. “I don’t do it often I swear.” He felt like he had to prove it to you. “don’t worry i’m not a cop.” he smiled. “i’ll talk to you soon, I have to go feed peaches.” You said. “okay, I call you soon, tell peaches I said hello.”

“will do, bye renjun.”

“you ruin everything.” Renjun stepped out into the living room. “did I?” he said, “or does the fact she has a boyfriend ruin everything?” jaemin past him the bong. “Both.” He took a drag.

“Jesus he is a fucking asshole.” Jeno said, renjun had explained what happened today with you and your boyfriend. “Exactly, he is horrible.” He was livid just explaining it, you didn’t deserve that at all. “and she gave you her number.” He nodded. “I say go for it, her boyfriend is shit.” Jeno shrugged.

Upon hearing that from his friend, he tried to get to know you through text and calls — he learned so much about you, you were studying to be a teacher, you loved kids and it was your life’s dream to be a teacher. He also learned that peaches was your dog that your mother gave you before you moved out, that’s why you loved her so much.

Your text and calls, soon turned into FaceTime calls while you studied, or cleaned your room — he even accidentally called you while you were getting dressed, to which you quickly told him you’d call him right back, both of you spent hours talking to each other, growing closer and closer.

“When are you coming back to the café?” He sat on his bed, watching you crotchet a new plushie, on any other occasion, this would’ve bored him, but watching you look so happy while doing something you loved made him happy.

“Why? You miss me?” you teased he smiled. “Mmh, I do.” He said, watching you shy away. “s-stop it.” You said trying to hide your smile. “Besides that’s your job, you can’t slack off there by talking to me.” You said. “Well how can I see you if not at the café?”

You wondered that too, there was no way he could come over and hang out, your boyfriend would flip out. “We’ll make a way, I promise.” You held out your pinky, you were so cute. He laughed, mimicking you, holding out his pinky. “Promise.”

“I feel like i’m funding two homes, ours and haechans.” Renjun sat the snacks he bought on the table. “You all need to seek employment, your parents pay for everything and that’s the problem.” He said. “Okay daddy, sit down.” Haechan said. He scoffed, sitting down pulling out his phone. “whoa is that yn?” haechan said. “Why is she your lockscreen?” he had forgotten about that, it was a photo you sent him of you and peaches laying in ned, you looked so cute he couldn’t help himself.

“He didn’t tell you, he found himself falling in love with neighbor.” Jeno smirked, “spends hours and hours talking to her.” He threw the pillow at the boy. “Shut up jeno.”

“Good for you, and her — her boyfriend is constantly cheating, she needs payback.” Renjun shook his head. “we’re just talking.” He said. “she even calls him while she’s showering.” Jaemin said. “oh, it’s like that.” Haechan wiggled his eyebrows. “its not like that, it was once and by an accident.” He said. “did you see something?”

“No you fucking perv, she hung up and called me back once she was finished.” Haechan shrugged. “Look we’re not judging you, if you want to fuck my neighbor, go ahead.”

“We’re not fuck–.” He was cut off by a loud scream. “looks like they’re at it again.” Haechan said. “yn and her asshole of a boyfriend, please take her away so I can have some piece.” Haechan said, taking a puff of the blunt.

“It’s been going on for a while, one of them normally leaves by now.” Haechan said, just as you heard a door swing open. “get out!” he heard you yell. “i’m sorry I swear.” He also heard your boyfriend, he stood up. “wait jun, this is normal, it fine.” It didn’t seem normal though, he slowly opened the door just to hear.

“yn listen to me, i’m sorry.” Your boyfriend pleaded as you threw his close out the house. “no, not this time.” You screamed. “you hit me!” he had found the innocent text messages between you and renjun, and went mad, and when you told him that at least it was innocent unlike the ones with random girls.

He didn’t take too well to this, and words began flying back and forth. “you’re just an little idiot kid, you need to grow up.” Which resulted into you saying, “you’re almost thirty, how about you stop going out every night and fucking random drunk 20 year olds.” You didn’t even recognize what you said, nor did you have time to process anything before you felt the sting of his slap across your face.

That when you broke, all the anger and pain came flooding out of you. “yn.” You slapped him back, going to your room. “yn wait.” He said. “I want you gone.” You said. “yn you’re being irrational, let’s calm down.” He said, making you even more mad. “irrational? Irrational, you hit me.” You grabbed his clothes. “You made, you’re constantly pushing me.”

“I’ve allowed to much from you, i’ve had enough.” You opened the door, throwing his clothes out. “Get out!” you screamed.

“Baby please I didn’t mean to hit you, it’s just that you made me so mad.” Renjun felt his blood boiling. “Calm down.” Jeno said, “don’t go all crazy.” He listened, opening the door wider, stepped out, he wasn’t the only one, a few other people stood out watching everything go down.

“Look at this, you’re embarrassed me.” He watched your boyfriend. “You did that yourself.” You tossed more stuff out. “I said enough, stop being stupid.” Renjun had enough, fully walking out of the apartment. “just let me back in the apartment.”

“No.” You seem your boyfriends eyes darken again. “You bitch I said- hey!” renjun shouted, both of you turned your heads. “Renjun.” You said, wondering if he heard anything. “She said leave, then just go.”

The older man smirked, “what is this?” he questioned, “You called him or something.” You rolled your eyes. “I didn’t, just go, go stay at a hotel until you find an apartment to stay in.” you said. “Why so you fuck your new boyfriend in our bedroom, like the little whore you are?” your now ex was basically slandering you.

He then turned to renjun, “you want her?” he walked over to the boy, face to face. “You think she’ll stay with you, she’s fucking obsessed with me.” He smirked, renjun tightened his fist. “What? you’re gonna hit me, stupid kid, hit me, go ahead.” Renjun saw red, before swinging, you shrieked. “renjun.”

Your boyfriend stumbled back, his nose bleeding. “Now go.” Renjun said, but the guy just kept coming towards him, but before renjun could even do something jeno stepped in — now renjun wasn’t scared of the man at all, but jeno definitely had an upper hand on the guy, and the guy thought so to.

“Before you do something you do regret, just get your shit and leave.” The guy picked his stuff up, turning to you. “I’ll let you calm down.” He scoffed walking away.

“You, okay?” he said immediately going to your aid, everyone had long gone back into their apartments. “yeah i’m fine.” You said, a red bruise forming under your eye. “look at your eye.” He said. “I’m fine.” You said, and you genuinely were, you felt like for the first time you could breathe. “Some ice and i’ll feel so much better.”

You moved your body to the side, “you can come in.” he turned his head down the hall where his friends were ushering him to go in. “Unless you’re busy.” He shook his head. “N-no i’m not.” he walked into your apartment, your dog running up to him, jumping on his leg. “she likes you, that’s a good sign.”

You walk into the kitchen, grabbing a few heart shaped ice cubes putting them on a piece of tissue, putting it to your face. “How could he hit you, that fucking asshole.” His fist balling up again, you grabbed his hand, rubbing his knuckles. “i’m fine, you did more damage to his nose than he did to me.” You took the ice from your face, putting it on his hands. “He deserved it, how could he do that to your pretty face.”

“You think i’m pretty?” you smiled, teasingly. “Yah! at a time like this, you’re making jokes?” He couldn’t help but smile at you. “See, just smile, now we can hang out here.” You tried to find the bright side. “You want to hang out with me that bad.” He teased back. “Of course, I do.” His eyes flickered to your lips. “I really want to kiss you.”

You weren’t as shocked as you should’ve been, you both felt the tension during the phone calls and face-times — there was definitely something there. “Then kiss me.” He smiled, grabbing your chin, pulling you into a kiss.

He held you softly in arms, his hand on your waist and you passionately made out in your kitchen. He pulled away, giving you a few more pecks on your lips. “Been waiting to that since I first saw you.”

He grabbed your hand, guiding you back to your bedroom, pushing you softly on to the bed, climbing on top of your body. “renjun.” You sighed, your fingers tracing his jaw. “tell me what you want.” He said kissing your fingertips. “Will give you anything you want, you just gotta tell me.”

“I-I want you, please.” That was all he needed, before he was pulling you into another passionate kiss, you pulled at his belt loop, softly moaning into the kiss.

“Jun.” you whimpered as he left little kisses in the spot between your shoulder blades, his lips grazing your chest all the way down to your stomach, stopping right at your waistband. “pl-please do something.”

He tugged your shorts down, tossing them, the wet patch on your underwear telling him how much you wanted this. “You’re soaked baby, you really need me?” you bit your lip, nodding. “So cute baby.” He rubbed you through your panties, you whined. “n-no teasing.” You pouted. “I won’t tease baby, I promise.”

He pulled your panties down, your glistening cunt made his mouth water. “Fuck.” He sighed, kissing your clit. “Need to taste you.” He licked your cunt. “jun.” you moaned out, he took that as a sigh to keep going, licking at your folds, kissing your clit.

It felt so good, you haven’t felt like that in a while, grabbing his hair, pushing him further into your cunt. “Fuck renjun, s-so good.” You moaned, he hummed against your cunt, you felt your long-awaited orgasm approaching. “i’m gonna cum jun.” you moaned out loudly. “Fuck i’m cumming!” you moaned, thighs shaking around the boys' head as he licked up your juices, pushing you past your orgasm. “j-jun.”

He pulled away, licking his lips. “Shit pretty you came so quick.” He smirked, your face heated up, and you turned your head shyly. “Well he never…” He finally processed it. “You’ve never gotten head before.” You covered your face. “Stop it’s embarrassing.”

He took your hands away from your face, “no it’s not baby, what’s embarrassing is that sorry excuse of man, missed out on tasting your pretty cunt.” You moaned at his lewd words. “S’okay though.” He spoke. “Now you have me, i’ll eat that pretty cunt whenever you want, all you have to do is ask.”

He unbuckled his belt, climbing off you to get rid of his jeans, along with his underwear — climbing back on top of you, his cock was hard against his abdomen, leaking with pre-cum. “So pretty junie.” You reached down, stroking his cock. “Fu-fuck baby if I don’t get inside you I’m gonna explode.” He groaned, moving your hand from his cock, replacing it with his own, stroking himself as he lined his cock with your dripping hole.”

“Fu-fuck you’re so tight.” He grunted as he sunk deeper into your hole, hitting your cervix. “R-renjun.” You moaned. “S-so big.” He groaned, you clenched around him. “Fu-fuck don’t do that, i’ll cum if your pussy keeps clenching like that.” You moaned. “Pl-please move.”

He pulled back out, slamming right back into you, both of cursing out as began to move – his hips snapping against your with such vigor, he held your legs opened, fucking into you deeper. “Fuck this pretty cunt is driving me crazy.”

He lifted your shirt, toying with your nipples. “Pretty fucking baby, gonna take care of you.” He grunted. “gonna treat you way better than that fucking asshole.” You moaned, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. “that’s it baby, let yourself go, you gonna cum for me.” He pushed into you deeply, the curve of his cock hitting that spot that had you seeing stars. “fuck, you’re gonna cum?” he toyed with your clit. “y-yes.” You moaned. “Pl-please.”

“Go a head, cum for me.” He grunted, pinching your clit. “Cum for me pretty girl.” You let yourself go, your mouth dropping open as you came, squeezing him tightly. “Fuck” He quickly pulled out, cumming all over your cunt. “Shit.” He breathed out.

He was quick to kiss you once again, his hands coming up to yours, interlocking them. “You’re mines now.” He said pulling away, letting your hands go, caressing your face. “not ever gonna harm you, okay?” you smiled. “promise?” you held your pinky out, he laughed — you were still so cute. He interlocked your pinky, kissing your knuckles.

“I promise.”

©LUVYENI

#kpop x reader #kpop smut #nct fic #nct fanfic #nct hard thoughts #nct hard hours #nct smut #nct x female reader #nct x reader #nct dream smut #nct dream x reader #nct dream fanfic #nct dream ff #nct dream hard thoughts #nct dream hard hours #renjun hard thoughts #renjun hard hours #huang renjun smut #huang renjun x reader #renjun x reader #renjun imagines #renjun smut

[stylesparker]

put some love on me

PAIRING: Ellie Williams x Fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 2.1k

WARNINGS: bestfriend!ellie, self deprecating thoughts (but not really), touch starved reader who needs to get her shit together, some actual fluff for once

*not my gif

You wish you weren’t such a fucking coward.

All you want to do is just ask somebody for a hug. Just a hug. That’s it. You don’t have a clue why it’s so fucking hard.

Dina’s the only one who’s gotten you to talk about it. You were really feeling it one day—that craving feeling in your chest that makes you want to run up to somebody and take all the touch from them you can get. You were so embarrassed she even noticed. You still don’t know how, but Dina always says she has her ways.

Nothing she said really fixed much. Just that a lack of touch leads to a craving of more—something like that. She gave you a hug after that talk but it felt so awkward, like she had only done it because she knew you needed it, not that she had wanted to do it herself. You left pretty quickly after that.

But now, standing outside Ellie’s door, you’re getting that feeling again. It always creeps up at the worst moments when you’re not expecting it; usually you just go home and suffer in your bed, alone. It passes eventually, but it sucks. It’s like torture, knowing you want it, need it, but you don’t have the guts to go out and ask for it. Because you know anyone of your friends would gladly be of service, but it just makes you feel like a burden.

Which is why you want to run and hide when Ellie opens up the door. Because for some reason, her face just brings back that hunger you have for it. The look she always has that’s so soft and welcoming (something you haven’t noticed that’s just for you), and the way her arms tightly hold the person she’s hugging close to her chest always makes your head go a bit fuzzy.

Her mouth curves up into a soft grin, “Hey, babe, c’mon in.”

Not the babe. God no NOT the time.

You swear you’re gonna lose it before you even walk in the door. You hate when she calls you babe; or any term of endearment for that matter. Only because you love it, and you hate that you love it. It’s not helping the situation at hand by any means.

You try and hide your grimace when her hand falls to your lower back when she leads you inside. Despite the amount of times you’ve been in her room, you still look around each time as if it’s only the first. You notice she’s added an extra poster on the wall since you’ve been here last, and her eyes follow you around the room as you take it in.

She smiles when you start thumbing through her comics, humming to yourself when you see something you like. She walks back over to her bed where she was practicing a tune on her guitar before you got there.

“What were you playing,” you ask softly, “ya’ know, before I interrupted.”

Ellie rolls her eyes playfully, “Shut up, I literally asked you to come over here.”

She hears you whisper a quiet whatever as you go across the room and sit on her couch. Her eyebrows furrow in confusion when you sit down and curl into yourself. Usually when she gets you to come around you’re right by her side, she doesn’t know why that’s not the case today.

“What are you doing?”

“Hm?” Your head pops up, looking at her with a soft look on your face. You seem so… out of it.

“C’mere.” She waves you over, but you don’t budge.

You shrug and try to play it off, “I’m quite comfortable here, thank you.”

You realize she’s not having it one bit as she gets up and practically marches over to you, leaning her body down to pick you up swiftly into her arms.

“Oh my god- Ellie!” You find yourself giggling into her shoulder as you smack her, but it has no real evil intent behind it. And she knows that too.

“What! You weren’t gonna come over yourself, so I did it for you!”

She throws you onto her bed, and you instantly feel the lack of warmth her hands brought when they were gripping you. It was like someone handed you a cookie, and just as you were about to eat it, they tore it away. It was so quick, you wished you’d reveled in it a bit more before she let go of you.

You scooted up to the top of her bed to lean against her headboard as she sat at the end and picked up her guitar again. Your eyes dance across her skin as you observe the small freckles and the way her hands flex when she handles the guitar. You try to wane off the feeling; forget what it felt like to be skin to skin, forget the relief that was served to you when her fingers dug into your flesh.

You didn’t notice the catch in your breath as you started thinking about it, or the way your hands started to fiddle with themselves in your lap, but she did. Ellie observed you just as you did to her, and she wished she’d seen it when you walked in.

The softness. The desperation.

You obviously need something, but she doesn’t know what.

Your nails are digging into the palms of your hands when you feel that familiar warmth return to your skin. You meet her eyes and she’s gently touching your leg.

She’s touching you. You instantly feel horrible when you move your leg away. You want to take it back immediately when her eyes fill with hurt.

“What’s up with you, huh?” Ellie’s voice fills the air and it makes you perk up.

“What?” You reply distantly. She sighs. She sets down her guitar and shuffles closer to you.

“I said, what’s up with you? Why you being weird?”

You laugh awkwardly, “Me? Being weird? I’m not being weird, how am I being weird?” Your question makes her laugh.

“I don’t know, you just…” she shrugs, “you’re not being you.”

You nod, pulling your legs up to hug them, “Okay, how am I usually.”

“Well for one, you don’t usually run away from me,” she laughs, but you can hear the discomfort in her voice.

You can’t help but frown. Her hurt makes you feel so stupid. Why couldn’t you have just acted normal, and she wouldn’t be questioning you right now. Why couldn’t you-

“Y/N.”

She’s closer. Her hands on your hands. You didn’t realize you covered your face until she peeled them away from your eyes. You try not to let out a squeak when you say huh in question.

“Please tell me what’s going on with you, how can I help?” Her head tilts and it makes your heart flutter in your chest. How do you tell your best friend that it would probably save your life if she held you so tight and never let go? How do you tell her that’s all you will ever need, but it’s something you’ve never let yourself have?

She gets it as soon as your eyes drop down to her hand. The way you suddenly look so desperate but ready to tear away from her at the same time. You can’t find it in yourself to ask, it’s too embarrassing. But it’s really not, you know that, but it feels like it. Once she gives you that look, that I get it now look, you know you’re done for.

“Honey, look at me.” Her finger nudges your chin up so you look at her, but it just makes you all the more shy. She grins, “Would you like a hug?”

You groan, letting your head fall back against the headboard. “Don’t make fun of me.”

“I’m not making fun of you!” Her smile says otherwise.

“Yes you are! And no, I don’t.” Your refusal has her raising her eyebrows at you. She knows your stubborn, but she didn’t think it would be this hard to get a confession out of you.

“Oh really?” She tsks, “I think you’re lying to me.”

“Am not!”

“Are too!”

“I don’t give a shit-”

Ellie almost scares you when she darts forward and pulls you into her, pulling you into the hug she asked for anyway. A “wha-” is halfway out your mouth when her hands fold across your back and your head gets shoved into the juncture of her neck and shoulder. She squeezes a little tighter, puffing soft breaths into your own shoulder, trying to get you to calm down.

“Can you relax for me? Jeez.” Your eyes are shut tight and you’re not even holding her back. She pulls you back and your eyes are closed, which makes her grunt in annoyance. “Open your eyes, love.” You’re breathing is sort of heavy, but you’re doing everything you can to relax. It’s so nice. The pressure of the hug, the weight of her body, it’s everything you need. But there’s that voice in the back of your head saying you don’t deserve it.

Your voice is shaky when you say, “I’m sorry.” You shake your head, and you don’t know what you’re doing when you try to pull away but you want to lean against her.

“Hey, don’t go anywhere,” her hand comes up to the back of your head and holds you there, “why are you sorry?” You shake your head. “Why are you sorry?” She demands again.

You open your eyes and she notices they’re sort of teary. “I’m sorry for making you feel bad.”

Ellie sighs at that, “Baby, I’m okay. You didn’t.”

“I did though.”

She pulls your head up and places her hands on both sides of your face. Her touch is so overwhelming. You take another shaky breath and her forehead falls against yours.

“It’s okay, baby.” Her thumbs stroke your cheeks and suddenly, all you need is more.

Just more of everything she’s giving you. She doesn’t seem burdened and she doesn’t seem upset, so you let yourself lean into her embrace. You whine when she pulls away, but she places a kiss to your brow and it makes you absolutely melt.

She holds you so close, one hand scratches the back of your neck while the other travels down the side of your body to hold you in place on her lap. She tugs you a bit closer which makes you fall even more into her. A noise of content escapes you when her fingers scratch the top of your head, and it makes her chuckle to herself.

“You are so worked up, is this all you needed?” She questions.

You groan, burrowing your head further into her neck, breathing in and out deeply so you don’t ruin this moment. She lets you sink into her, let’s you wrap your arms around her waist, all the while you’re slowly letting her patch up the broken pieces of your heart, one by one.

“Yeah.” You mumble quietly.

You slump, almost like you’re going to sleep, and she revels in it. Loves the fact that she is the one doing this for you, she is the one that can take the ache away. It makes her sad knowing it probably took you so long to say something because you thought you didn’t deserve it, and she knows, because this used to be her.

“Atta’ girl.” She kisses the side of your head.

Finally, you’re relaxing. She maneuvers the both of you so she’s sitting back against the headboard and your head is against her chest. Her hands rub up and down your back, and she doesn’t tease when you move every now and then, since you’re still getting used to the constant touching.

The ache starts to go away, but there’s that lingering sense of want that doesn’t leave you. Your hands grip the sides of her shirt, grabbing her attention away from her comic book.

“You good, baby?”

“Don’t call me baby.” You blush.

Now this she’ll tease you about.

She smirks, “why not, sweetheart? You don’t like it?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Aww, you know you like it.” Your head pulls up to look at her, and all she can think is you have the cutest glare out of anybody she knows.

“What did I say.”

“Shut the fuck up and accept my love you bastard.”

Your face flushes red, and you know it. You go back down without a retort and she knows she’s got you where she wants.

“Thanks, Els.”

“Yeah. Whatever.”

She says it with a smile.

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams x y/n #ellie tlou #ellie williams tlou

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Oh to be a fly next to Daniel when he received the news about her pregnancy

His Best Man || DR3 {Daniel’s Reaction}

A/N: quick 700 words written on my phone 💕 F1 Masterlist || One || Two || Daniel’s Reaction

Daniel wouldn’t normally have his phone with him when he was meant to be listening to the debrief. His entire concentration should have been on the technicians reading the data from the free practice he had just completed. But since you hadn’t been feeling the best you decided to stay home instead of going to the paddock, and it had left him feeling a little unsettled. He missed your company.

Like a teenager in class, he had his phone on his lap hidden under the table and the moment it lit up he snatched it. His thumb froze over the green icon as his brain registered the name on the screen wasn’t yours.

“Excuse me, guys, I need to take this,” he interrupted as he abruptly stood up and left the room. He and James hadn’t spoken since the phone call in Portland nearly two months ago and if the biometric monitor was still attached from the practice it would have caught the sudden spike in his heart rate.

For a second Daniel thought about letting the call go to voicemail but he wasn’t a coward, so he took a deep breath and answered the call. “Hello, mate, it’s been a while,” he greeted with a confidence he didn’t feel.

Immediately James’ laugh set him on edge and he closed the door to his driver room since there were still a lot of people loitering around. “Tends to happen when you fuck someone’s wife.”

“Ex-wife, which tends to happen when you’re a cheating piece of shit,” Daniel shot back.

“Hmm, I don’t remember signing any court documents.”

Daniel was usually patient by nature but his patience for this man had run out on the side of a highway in Perth. “Why did you call me, James?”

“I just thought we could celebrate the wonderful news together, since my wife is pregnant. I’m assuming you’re the father but considering she’s a whore, who knows?”

“Shut your fucking mouth, James,” Daniel growled as his hands threatened to crush the phone with the grip he had. “You don’t talk about her like that, ever, you understand!”

“That she’s a whore or that she’s pregnant? Because both are true.”

“You’re a fucking liar, and she can’t have kids, she already told me.”

James’ laugh sent Daniel’s stomach dropping and a cold fissure running down his spine. “Who's the liar now…”

The phone went dead before he could respond and he stared at his phone as it returned to his home screen. The image was one of his favourites, though every photo of you was technically a favourite, this one was perfect. You weren’t even paying attention to the camera as he snapped the shot, all of your focus was on the tiny joey cradled in your arms as you bottle fed it.

He already knew about your fertility struggles, it was no secret, but it was clear you would have been a great mother had you been given the chance. It was why he was struggling so much to digest James’ words. You wouldn’t have lied about that, he couldn’t believe it.

Needing the reassurance only you could provide, he tied the arms of his race suit around his waist and started to run. It wasn’t far to his apartment block from the paddock but it felt longer as he sprinted full pelt through the busy streets.

Daniel hadn’t even thought to bring his keys and after a few attempts at knocking loudly he went back to the front desk to borrow a spare one. The knots in his stomach had twisted into a noose by the time he unlocked the door and walked into the silent apartment.

Sweat beaded on his forehead and ran down his spine as he heard a soft sob come from the bathroom. The sound penetrated his heart and spurred him to close the distance in a mad dash to fix whatever had caused you pain but he never expected to find you the way he did. Pregnancy tests littered the floor, three bold plus signs staring him in the face as he stumbled back against the wall and let it take his weight and he slid down to the floor.

“You said you couldn’t have kids.”

#his best man #daniel ricciardo fanfic #daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo x y/n #daniel riccardo x reader #ollie answers #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #formula one imagine #formula 1 fanfic #daniel ricciardo imagine #f1 fic

[ageingfangirl2]

Fight Someone Your Own Size! Mihawk (OPLA)

Mihawk comes to your aid and is intrigued by you. Dracule Mihawk x Reader

Part 2

Y/N

You'd just finished a long shift at the local tavern and wanted nothing more than to go home and rest. The tavern wasn't in the nicest part of town, so you always made sure to have a blade on hand in case trouble came your way. Tonight you decided to take a well-known shortcut through a couple of notorious alleys because it would save you a few minutes. It wasn't that you couldn't fight, you could very well, you just weren't a big fan of confrontation.

You make it through the first alley with ease, but the second you step foot into the second alley the air changes and you immediately pull out your blade to defend yourself. Behind you, footsteps can be heard, and just as you pick up your pace, your path is blocked by four men in front of you. Looking over your shoulder you see three more.

The obvious leader of the group steps towards being a burly man with a scruffy beard and sneers at you through yellow teeth, 'Well, well, what do we have here, boys? A little birdie caught in our net.'

The rest of the men snigger and wolf whistle, as you take a deep breath and try to mask your fear, 'I don't want any trouble, just let me through. You can have my money if you want.'

The men shared a wicked laugh, and the leader stepped closer, his eyes filled with malevolence. 'Money? We'll take your money, sweetheart, but we also want a little fun.'

He reveals a blade much longer than you own, and you get into a defensive position not wanting to go down without a fight, 'not going to happen.'

Before you could react, one of the other men lunged at her, brandishing a gleaming switchblade. Instinct kicked in, and you managed to dodge his initial attack, but the odds were stacked against you. The rest of the group closed in, overpowering you with sheer numbers. You feel a sharp pain as a blade grazes your arm.

You managed to get some good stabs in before one punch to the gut sends you to your knees.

'You call yourself men yet you're a disgrace to our kind,' an unfamiliar male voice comes from behind you, his voice monotone, condescending, and a little bored.

You dare to look over your shoulder and see a tall man step out of the shadows, his eyes were piercing, and your eyes couldn't help but be drawn to his bare chest and a golden cross that looked heavy. You hadn't seen this man around town before.

Three of the men who attacked you sneer and run at the man weapons ready to strike, but the mystery man almost danced around their attacks with elegance.

'Who the hell are you?' the leader questions.

You use the distraction to get back to your feet, just in time to see the mystery man pull a large sword which was sheathed on his back that looked deadly and impressive, 'I'm bored now,' the man drawls.

He brings down the sword against all three men at once, and the sheer force actually pushes you back a bit.

The leader of the group, realising they were outmatched, grabbed his remaining men and yelled, 'Let's get out of here!' The remaining men flee, leaving you and your mysterious saviour alone in the alley.

The man sheathes his sword and ignores the three dead men at his feet as he turns towards you, 'Are you okay?' he asks in a low, soothing voice.

You nod and put your blade down, 'Err yeah...thank you...did you really have to go that far and kill them?'

The man tilts his head, and you can't help but admire the feather in his hat, 'oh my dear, trust me, I wanted to go much further but they ran away like cowards. You would have probably won if there were fewer, I'm intrigued y/n.'

Your eyes widen, 'how do you know my name? I haven't seen you around town.'

'I only show myself when I absolutely have to. You have a bit of a reputation around town so I was surprised to overhear those men decide to attack you.'

You scuff your feet on the ground, 'I swear I've seen your face somewhere, but I can't remember your name.'

The man turns to walk away, 'Dracule Mihawk, I sense we'll meet again y/n. You have potential.'

Before you can say anything else he all but disappears into the shadows he'd emerged from. Dracule Mihawk, that name meant something to you, but right now you needed to get out of the alley before anyone found the dead bodies and you were attacked again.

#one piece #one piece imagines #one piece fanfiction #opla #opla mihawk #one piece live action #one piece live action mihawk #mihawk x reader #dracule mihawk #one piece live action imagines #one piece live action fanfiction #anime imagines #anime fanfiction #dracule mihawk x reader #one piece dracule mihawk #one piece live action mihawk imagines #opla mihawk imagines

[cannebady]

The worst thing by far about all the fuckin' fur was how hot it was when he'd get properly nervous. It was mostly annoying, Husk thought, because he never used to get this fuckin' nervous, but these days he feels like he sweats through his fur at least every other day.

It's a byproduct of exposure to Angel Dust, he thinks (and fuck is the spider aptly named). Initially, it was anger that got him heated, being subjected to the spider trampling on his painstakingly constructed boundaries, then it was the realization that under the performance, Anthony was a spitfire with a vulnerable streak a mile wide and legs even longer. In other words, Husk's fuckin type, both topside and in Hell.

Which brings him to now; sweating through his fuckin bowtie as he paces outside Angel's room, hands so damp that the fuckin' paper wrapped around the stupid bouquet that he couldn't not buy for a certain leggy demon was getting damp and who the fuck wanted to open their door to see a sweaty, anxious, drunk failure of an overlord handing them damp shitty flowers?

Probably not the prettiest guy Husk has ever laid eyes on. His best guy, even if only in his own head.

But he'd heard Angel and Vaggie talking about her plans for her anniversary with Charlie and how much Charlie loves getting flowers. Angel's eyes had sparked up a bit, mentioning that he used to bring those home for his mother and sister, back when he'd been alive, but hadn't ever received any.

Husk knew how to spot a weak spot, and Angel was projecting to anyone paying attention, "I'm a hopeless romantic that would burst into heart shaped confetti if someone gave me flowers" and the thought hadn't left Husk's mind since.

So on his way back to the hotel, when he'd spotted a white and blush bouquet that reminded him of fur he wanted to dig his claws into and-

Well.

So he bought the stupid fuckin' flowers and now he's being a big fuckin' coward again as he's still pacing and sweating and definitely not knocking on the door and saying, "You deserve only the best, baby", and handing the (sweaty, damp, probably embarrassing) bouquet to the guy he spends every waking moment thinking about.

It's not that he even expects anything to come of it. He has nothing to offer besides a well mixed drink and an ear to bend, so he hasn't got any expectations, he just thinks that maybe someone should make Angel feel a bit less like he exists only in service to others. And sure, maybe in his drunkest flights of fancy lately he thought that maybe, just maybe, he could be the kind of guy to get a gift like Angel and care for it. Care for him.

Stupid.

He should just leave the flowers against the door.

Yeah.

But as he drops them against the door, cringing at the sweaty paw stain against the soft pink paper, the door moves inward and there he is.

Nine feet of the most gorgeous man Husk's ever been so close to, ever been lucky enough to be close to, staring at him with wide eyes and fuck, he's gotta get out of here.

"I-" he starts, but his coward voices fucks off to parts unknown, leaving only his rapid breathing and the distant sounds of the Pride ring to fill the space.

"Heya Husky," Angel says, sounded a little breathless himself.

Don't think about that.

"What's all this?" he finishes and is staring right at Husk as he tries to figure out an explanation that doesn't turn him into a pathetic creep with a hopeless crush. Fuck he's too old for this.

"Saw 'em, thought you might like' em," he settles on. True, but vague.

Coward.

"Ya got me flowers, Whiskers?" Angel says, voice a bit high, tight. His eyes are blown wide, and his mouth is open a little, like he can't get enough air in and Husk understands because he stopped breathing himself the moment the door opened.

He doesn't respond right away. Husk's been a gambling man since before Hell. Maybe this is worth gambling in, because Angel looks about a second from collapsing in his own doorway and there are only so many things that could mean.

He stands, pressing the bouquet into Angel's second set of hands, damn the fuckin' sweat and anxiety. The only way forward is though and it's the only honest way to go.

"You deserve beautiful things, sweetheart." he says, channeling a man he once was, that had the right words and tone to make someone look his way, to make them feel seen.

Those mismatched eyes go huge and glassy, and Husk is about a quarter of the way to a panic attack before he's pulled into the tightest hug he's ever experienced.

"Ya can't say things like that and expect me not ta squeeze ya, Husky," Angel murmurs into his neck, sets of arms wrapping Husk up entirely, fingers dug into his fur (he hopes he isn't too sweaty, hopes he's nice to touch).

"You deserve to hear nice things too," he whispers, and his voice is low and strained, fuckin' obviously besotted.

He feels all those lanky limbs tremble a bit (oh fuckin', Christ his knees are weak, I did that, fuck), before he decides to give into his impulse to drag his claws through that fluffy hair that's always falling into Angel's (gorgeous, incomparable, hypnotizing) eyes.

"Husk," Angel nearly whines, breathing going a bit funny at that and Husk decides to roll the dice one last time.

"Fuck it. Can I kiss you, Legs?" he says, aiming for sexy and ending up closer to desperate.

There's a shit starting grin creeping across that beautiful face when he pulls back to wait for Angel's response.

"I dunno Husky, can you?" Angel snarks and oh fuck him (literally, figuratively, any fuckin' way).

"Brat," he breathes before he pulls down to align their mouths and oh fuckin' fuck that's good.

Angel's lips are syrupy soft and sweet, tasting of vanilla and peaches and all of the good things pieces of shit like Husk shouldn't get to taste. He makes a perfect huffing whine right into Husk's mouth and he has to pull back before he loses his composure entirely.

He wants Angel, wants to show him what it's like to have someone only aim to please him, and he will, he thinks. Just not yet.

He cups the side of Angel's face, giving him one last kiss before pulling back.

Angel's eyes are half lidded and he looks like every wet dream Husk's ever had. This isn't Angel Dust, the porn star. This is Anthony, and he's fuckin' perfect.

He reaches down and tangles his claws with one of Angel's hands, rubbing a thumb along a soft cheek bone.

"Have dinner with me," he says.

"Ya wanna have dinner," Angel says, "after a kiss like that?"

"I want to do a whole lot more," he replies because he knows Angel wants to hear it and, fuck it, he wants Angel to know it. "But I want to do this right. So, dinner tomorrow?"

Angel is looking at him like he's trying to solve a very difficult riddle. It goes on long enough that he wonders if he should apologize for overstepping. Fuck knows he's not in his right mind (how could he be, standing so close to Angel like this).

But then it's like the sun breaks through and he gets one of those rare, fuckin' stunning, smiles.

"Yeah, I'll have dinner with ya, kitten," he says, breathless and playful.

"Alright then, it's a date," he says, just so that Angel knows what he's offering (so he knows it's being accepted), "Wear something nice. I ain't takin' you to any kinda dive." Because he wants that to be clear too.

He can be a gentleman, when he's fucked to be.

"Oh," Angel says and he's blushing high up on his cheeks and Husk can fucking feel the heat of it.

He raises up onto his toes to kiss one of those honeyed blushes, before bestowing another kiss to the back of the hand he's still holding.

"Goodnight, sweetheart," he says before forcing himself to walk away (lest he never leave at all).

He only looks back once he's ready to turn the corner down the hallway, and sees Angel brushing his cheek where Husk's lips had been and cradling the flowers to his chest as gently as he does with Fat Nuggets.

Maybe Husk's onto something here. Maybe caring for (loving, because that's what it is whether he's ready to name it or not) Angel is something he'll be good at. Fuck knows the spider makes it easy.

If he weren't a very jaded, former overlord he'd be skipping back to his room on a fuckin' cloud.

As it is, there's just a little pep in his step, like some of the weight of the world's been lifted from his shoulders.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel husk #Husk #Husker #Angel dust #hazbin hotel angel dust #Huskerdust

[shadowandlightt]

Of Nightmares and Memories /five/ Azriel X reader

Series Warnings: Kidnapping. Mistreatment. Cursing. Pining. Violence. Depression. Talks of suicide. Eventual smut

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four

They came not an hour later. You hid in your rooms like the coward you accused Tamlin of being. They didn’t put up a fight as Amerantha’s men, Rhys included, hauled them off towards the mountain. It left you in a state of dismay. Because with Tamlin gone, and the Faebane slowly leaving your system, there was no reason for you to stay here in Spring. You could easily run back to the night court and hide in one of the cabins your family owned. You could easily hide in the mountains and pray that one day Amerantha would meet her match. 

Only you couldn’t bring yourself to leave. One day you tried, only to turn and vomit in the rose bushes. You then turned around and went back to your rooms and crawled under your covers. You stayed there and didn’t move for the rest of the day. 

On the third day, Feyre showed back up. Much to your surprise, claiming to love Tamlin and willing to go under the mountain to save him. You rolled your eyes, but knew that love well. Because you would have given your wings if it meant seeing Az again. 

“She’ll kill you,” You say from your spot at the kitchen doors, “The second she realizes you’re there, she’ll kill you. But she’ll draw it out, make it slow and painful.”

“Not helping,” Alis hissed at you. 

“Who are you?” Feyre whips to face you. 

You only smirk, “A friend. That’s all you need to know. Rhys might be your only hope.” 

“Rhysand is a brute.”

“Perhaps,” You shrug, “But he wants out from under Amerantha as much as the next, only he has the power to make it happen.”

“What are you saying?” She questions. 

“If he comes to you with a bargain, take it,” You tell her, “It could just save your life. Play his games, it might just save you from hers.” 

“Don’t be a fool,” Alis said, “Don’t make any bargains.”

“Fine then, die and damn us all.”

“Why are you trying to help me?” Feyre asks. 

“Because, dear human, I want to go home,” you said almost wistfully, “And I can’t as long as that bitch is in power.” 

“Where is home for you?” 

“The Night Court. But I’ve been held here for hundreds of years.” 

“How old are you?” Her voice shook as she asked. 

You only laughed and shook your head, “My age is of no concern to you. I’m not even sure I know it anymore anyway.”

Alis sighs from behind Feyre and gathers some supplies. you  watch her carefully, wondering if she’s eager to send the poor human to her death, or if she hates the idea as much as you do. But you can only hope that Rhys will help her in any way that he can. You can only hope that he wants out as much as you think he does. 

“If you ever feel alone, look towards the shadows,” You explain, “I’m not promising I’ll be there. But if I feel I can risk it-” 

“Now that would be foolish,” Alis adds. 

“Thank you, Alis,” I hiss back, “You should go, now. Mother knows what that Bitch has done to your precious Tamlin.”

The idea of him getting his happy ending made you sick again. The idea of him being able to be happy when he’s caused so much suffering….you almost couldn’t handle it. But if this meant Rhys and the other members of the Night Court could be free then you had to allow it to happen. You had to try to aid the young girl in any way that you could. 

“Stick to the shadows,” You tell her, “You won’t get far once you enter, but always listen. And keep your wits about you.”

“Thank you,” She said in earnest. 

You watched from the broken front door as Alis led her away. You weren’t sure you’d ever see the human again, but you weren’t sad to see her go. It felt like leading a lamb to the slaughter, but it had to be done. There wasn’t another choice. Not if you wanted to survive, not if you wanted everyone to be free again. 

Each day you flung your powers out further and further, urging your shadows just a little further. They whispered back to you, telling you of what was happening under the mountain. How Feyre was dying, sick with fever and how Rhys came forth with a bargain. She headed your advice and took the bargain, marking her with a tattoo and a bond with Rhys. 

Each day you tried to find a way to contact your brother, but you knew you couldn’t risk it. There was no way you could reach his mind from so far away, not with the lingering effects of years of Faebane still in your system. 

You prayed that maybe Feyre would tell him about you and he would figure it out for himself and come for you once all of this was over. You prayed and prayed. There was nothing but silence. No news came. Your shadows were skittish, growing restless waiting for Amerantha to do something. 

You lost weight from not eating. The lack of food would kill you eventually, and maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad thing. If Valaris parished and there was nothing left of the people you called family- no one left but Rhys who thought you were dead anyway…would death be so bad? It could all be over finally, and maybe the Mother would be so kind as to bring you back to Az in the next life. 

Three months. A mere blip in your young life, but feeling like a lifetime nonetheless. It took three long months before you saw three figures coming up the road. They were moving fast, all three of them. Feyre, it seemed, was no longer human. Your shadows neglected to tell you that when they said she’d survived and Amerantha did not. 

You made your way downstairs, towards the door which you’d managed to somewhat fix. None of them looked worse for wear, but you knew whatever Feyre had been through would stay with her for a long time. And Tamlin had the ornate ability to simply sweep things under the rug and forget about them. He would do the same with her. 

She looked High Fae, smelled like it too. With traces of my brother. So small, almost undetectable, but there. Shimmering like the bond you knew they had. You wondered when he would call in his bargain, when he would take her away from this place and show her the splendor of the Night Court, the beauty of it. 

“You’re still here,” Tamlin stopped, a scowl forming, “I set you free.”

“You set me free, perhaps, but I would have died before I made it back to my own Court. Safer to stay here until I could contact my brother.”

“That won’t be happening,” Tamlin said slyly, “Feyre, darling, why don’t you go inside with Lucien. I’ll be inside in a moment.”

Your eyes narrowed as she did as she was told. Lucien spared you a glance, pity swirling in his eye. It made a pit form in your stomach. You wouldn’t be leaving the Spring Court, you realized. You would be forced to stay here until the day you died, or until Tamlin finally decided to kill you. 

Maybe you would make it your mission to push him as far as you could so he would kill you. Maybe then you could finally know peace, and not whatever it was that you knew now. 

“I thought I was going to free you,” Tamlin took a step towards you, “But then your brother made that Bargain with Feyre, and made me look like a fool under the mountain.” 

“So once again, I’m to become your bargaining chip?” I question, “What? Me for Feyre?” 

“Perhaps.”

“I could mist you,” You hiss. 

“Ah, but you can’t,” Tamlin laughs, “Because even after all this time, the Faebane is still in your system. You can’t even winnow, because if you could, you would’ve left by now.” 

He surges forward and grips your cheeks in his hand. You yelp in pain before going completely still. You won’t let him have the satisfaction of seeing you in pain, or anything. He doesn’t deserve the satisfaction of it. 

“You, little one, are going to be here for a very long time,” He squeezed your face harder, “And I’m going to enjoy finally breaking you.”

Little did he know, you were already broken. 

“Go to hell,” You spit out. 

“I was already there,” He smirked, “It didn’t take.” 

“He’ll kill you once he finds out,” You force out, “And I’ll watch and laugh.” 

“I’m counting on him trying.”

Tag List

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#acomaf #acotar #azriel #acotar fanfiction #azriel x reader #azriel x you #acotar fic #azriel fanfic #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger

[cevansbrat0007]

Southern Comfort

Summary: A day after your ex-boyfriend's unexpected return, you show up on Ari's doorstep intending to ask for a little time. Too bad your grumpy bounty hunter isn't feeling particularly charitable.

Warnings: Mature Themes, Some Angst, Smut, Ari Being A Menace, Arguments, Angry Sex, Discussions of Ex-boyfriends, Mentions of Body Image, Mentions of Disordered Eating, Manhandling, Pushing, Discussions of Female Virginity (mentioned), Edging (mentioned), Restraints (mentioned), Brief Allusions to Rape/Forced Sex, Allusions to DubCon/NonCon, Primal Play (mentioned), Ass Slapping, Spanking (mentioned), Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Takes place directly after the events in Case of the Ex, but it is not the sequel. This story is part of my Sweet Renegades Series. Not beta'd. Not beta'd. All mistakes my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

“Alright, now. Remember to breathe, sugar.” You mutter as you adjust the skirt of your floral sundress. “You’ll be in and out quicker than a hiccup.” 

Although the day had cooled down considerably since this morning, the temperature still sat at an uncomfortable 88℉. Which therefore meant that you were uncomfortable. Even after a shower and a change of clothes. 

You take one last moment to fluff your curls and reapply your lip gloss before reaching inside your car to pull out a ceramic baking dish, complete with a lid. And then you begin the quiet trek up the concrete walkway. Your stomach is in knots by the time you reach the front door to ring the bell. 

Your teeth begin to worry your bottom lip while you wait, part of you wishing that you could just sit the dish on the front porch and make a beeline for your vehicle. But your Mama hadn’t raised you to be a coward, and neither had your beloved Uncle. God rest their souls. 

So you had to see this through. And once you were done you would head over to your shop and through yourself into work until the sun came up. There was already a crispy chicken salad waiting for you on the passenger seat, accompanied by some reduced fat buttermilk ranch dressing.

Your stomach growls at the thought of food. It was a subtle reminder that you hadn’t eaten much lately, save for the wrap Ari had brought by yesterday. Now that you’d devoured, right along with the chips, salad, and the cookie – all of which had been delicious.

But when it had come time for you to call him that evening as you were locking up, for some reason, you hadn’t been able to bring yourself to do it. Because if he answered, you knew that he was gonna want the skinny on your ex-boyfriend. And you really weren’t prepared to dive into all of that yet.

So you’d decided to shoot Ari a text message after you’d already arrived home for the night, letting him know that you were safe and that you needed time to process the day’s events. After that was done, you’d powered off your phone, content to simply be alone with your thoughts.

And you had yet to turn it back on. Sometimes a girl needed her space.  

In that same vein, you also hadn’t bothered with opening the store today. You’d been a little paranoid about receiving a pop-up visit from Ari or Mason. Or, worse yet, both of them at the same time. Again. 

Seeing him like that had really done a number on you. He’d looked so good standing there in your shop with that same boyish grin of his. It had immediately transported you back to high school, in the most confusing way possible. But at least it hadn’t stirred up any romantic feelings.

In your opinion, Mason Prescott was a lot like double frosted chocolate mud cake. Pretty to look at, but indulge in more than a couple bites and it was liable to make you sick to your stomach.   

Just as your mind begins going down the rabbit hole of comparing problematic men to desserts, the front door is wrenched open to reveal a stern-looking Ari Levinson. He’s barefoot, wearing a pair of faded blue jeans and light gray t-shirt. 

The two of you stand there in silence for a moment, neither of you saying a word. He doesn’t need to communicate the fact that he was worried about you, not when it’s written plain as day all over his gorgeous face. But now, at roughly 6:30 in the evening, he wasn’t just worried. He was downright pissed. 

At you. Oops.  

“Good evening.” Comes your shy greeting once it eventually becomes too much. “I…I was in the neighborhood and figured I’d drop by.” You offer up a lame shrug, wishing that you would’ve practiced your speech a little more before you’d gotten out of your car. 

Ari grunts in response, the seemingly ever-present tick in his jaw growing more pronounced with each passing second. And you can feel your confidence taking a dive as a result. 

“I also wanted to tell you that I was sorry for kicking you out the way I did yesterday. And for texting instead of calling. I was a little ruffled, but I could’ve been a bit more gracious about things.” You force yourself to take a steadying breath. “I’m sorry for worrying you.”

“Alright.” That’s all you get from him. And now that tempting mouth of his pressed into a thin, firm line. Which did not bode well for you.

“I would’ve called you from the shop, but I decided not to open today so…” Your body sways in the wind as a gentle breeze picks up. Boy did that air feel good on your skin. 

“I know.” Ari replies flatly. “Drove by your house earlier and saw your car. That’s the only reason I hadn’t filed a missing person’s report with Marlon Timmers down at the station.” 

“Oh…”

And that was your confirmation right there. Yes, you had indeed worried this man. Which meant that he’d felt the need to go looking for you. If only to make sure that you were safe. And that a certain Prescott wasn’t taking up real estate in your driveway.     

“I made you somethin’.” Pasting on a smile, you present him with the covered dish you’d brought along with you. “As part of my apology.”  

The bounty hunter hesitates briefly before accepting your offering with a sigh, followed by a quiet “thanks”. And then he turns on his heel to head deeper into the house. Unsure of what else to do, you decide to follow behind him, closing the door as you go.

Besides, you’d much rather continue this discussion indoors anyway.  

“It’s a cobbler.” You find yourself babbling as you both make your way into the kitchen. “A peach cobbler. It’s kind of my specialty, right up there with my brambleberry pie. The secret is a splash of bourbon, plus a dash of vanilla.” 

For some reason unbeknownst to you, your nervous admission stops him dead in his tracks.

“You brought me a…” He trails off as he sucks in a breath, his brain kicking into overdrive. “Is this – is this a breakup cobbler?” You wince when he unceremoniously drops your beloved baking dish onto the counter.

Your eyes go wide at that, his unexpected accusation leaves you bristling. As if you had it in you to be so callous. If you were breaking up with him then you would’ve brought along muffins. Or perhaps a nice iced lemon blueberry loaf.

You had simply come to apologize, and maybe ask for a little time. Nothing too crazy, mind you. Only a few days, really. Maybe week tops. 

“Oh, simmer down now, Beast.” You sniff, clutching your purse under your arm. Clearly he was still smarting about yesterday’s turn of events. But even so, there was no reason for you to conduct yourself as anything but the proper gentlewoman you were raised to be. 

“Duchess, I swear to God….” Ari’s fingers go to the bridge of his nose as he visibly prays for patience. Meanwhile, you’re busy stewing over his ill-treatment of your precious cookware. “If this is a breakup cobbler, I’m gonna spank your ass so hard you won’t sit comfortably for a week.”

That rat bastard! Heat floods your face as your mouth goes slack. Ari Levinson had officially gone too far, which meant that  it was up to you to set him straight.   

“You are unbelievable!” You screech, smacking his chest with your handbag. It feels good, so you do it again. You’re even poised to do it a third time before it’s snatched from your grasp. 

“Oh yeah, baby?” The agitated bounty hunter rakes his fingers through his hair, yanking at the chestnut strands. “Then how come I don’t hear you denying it?”  

“I came here trying to do something nice.” You hiss through gritted teeth. “And to apologize for–”

“For what? Trying to fly away on me? Again?” 

Ari reaches for you, although you’re quick to slap his hand away. With the way you were feeling right now, you were liable to bite him.

“You came here to apologize for being an ass. I’m supposed to say "no big deal". Next comes the part where you ask for space, because you’re confused and you’re scared.” He finishes with a shrug before turning his body so that he can fish something out of a drawer. Seconds later you see that it’s a spoon. “Add that to the fact that you’re falling for me–”

“Oh, fuck you!” You interrupt with a snarl, slamming your hand down on the counter. But your gaze remains trained on his chosen piece of cutlery. 

“I have a feeling we’ll get to that.” Ari jams the utensil into the center of the cobbler. “But first…” He scoops up a hearty helping, grinning at the crumbly bits of crust and juicy peach before raising the spoon to his lips and devouring it in one swift bite. “Mmm. Not bad, baby.” 

Not bad? You inwardly seethe. Not BAD? What that man had in his possession was an award winning cobbler. It was better than excellent. It was fucking legendary. 

Your man chews animatedly, making a show of savoring the decadent mouthful. “Maybe a little heavy on the nutmeg. But as I was saying…” He sucks a stray drop of filling off his thumb. “Between the sudden appearance of our good buddy, Mace, and you being overwhelmed about this thing we’ve got goin’ on…I reckon that you’re feeling a tad out of sorts. Am I right?”

The gall of this man! A red haze colors your vision as his words wash over you, filling you with a slow churning sense of rage. Just who the fuck did Ari Levinson think he was? 

“My cobbler has the perfect amount of cinnamon and nutmeg, you–you uncultured jackass!” You grit out through clenched teeth. 

You could tolerate a lot from folks in this town. But one thing you absolutely would not abide by was someone bad mouthing one of your made-from-scratch confections. You baked with learned skill, as well as passion. It was the one thing you felt you were genuinely good at. 

Which meant that you were about to choke some sense into the gorgeous man standing in front of you. 

“Yeah?” He shovels another spoonful into his mouth. “Then how about you stick around and fight with me about it instead of running off like I know you want to?”

The smug turd gobbler has the nerve to smile at you before helping himself to more gooey, peachy, crumbly goodness. Little did he know that you were this close to slapping him hard enough to make his ears ring.

He wouldn’t even have to stoop down low for you to do it. You were so mad you could practically feel yourself about to levitate.   

“No, thank you. In fact, I think I’ll be going.” You tell him, your tone rife with disdain. “Now hand me my purse and return my sub-par cobbler and I will be on my way.” 

The damned bag had your keys inside it. Next time you left the house intending to make amends you were going to wear something with pockets!

“No.” 

“Excuse me?”  

“Ya know what, Bird?” Ari tosses the spoon into the sink with a clatter before crossing his burly arms over his broad chest. “I’ve just realized that I’m not feeling all that charitable at the moment. Plus, you didn’t say please.” He tacks on the last bit with a cheeky wink.

“Meaning?” 

He has no idea that you’re fantasizing about keying the side of his precious Nissan Titan right now.   

“Meaning that we can either stand here all night sizin’ each other up.” He lets out a resigned sigh. “Or we can take a seat on the couch, or maybe curl up in bed, and talk about what’s got you ready to run for the hills.”

“And I take it there is no option three?” Your hands settle on your hips as you glare back at him. 

“You and that damned option three.” Ari chuckles under his breath, not finding a damn thing amusing. “Well sweetheart, option three involves me cuffing you to my bed and edging the fuck out of that sweet pussy until you tell me whatever it is I wanna know.”

“There isn’t anything to know, Ari!” You all but shout, feeling every bit as frustrated as you sound. “I haven’t seen Mace in damn near five years!”

“Be that as it may, there was still something about his visit that shook you, Bird.” He goes to reach for you again, only to have you dance away. You absolutely did not want to be touched right now. “I saw it then and I see it now.” 

“And if I were to tell you that it’s not a big deal?”

Instead of immediately responding, Ari cocks his head to the side, taking a moment to study you. “Then I would tell you that you’re lying. And not just to me. But to yourself.”  

You look away, temporarily at a loss for words as you wrap your arms around your middle. A middle that was a little too soft for your liking, regardless of how often you seemed to be counting calories these days. 

“I gave him my heart. And he smashed it into a million glittering pieces the first chance he got. I mean, I guess I can’t be too mad since I’m the one who gave him the hammer. Not once, but twice.” You spit as you feel hot tears prick the backs of your eyes. “But even so, do you honestly think I’d be stupid enough to let him do it a third time?”

“Bird.” Your nickname falls from his lips like a soft, urgent plea. But you don’t hear it. Not really.

“I was the fat girl who fell for the jock. Not really all that notable, I suppose. Except in this case that jock just so happened to be the golden boy of Bell’s Creek.” Your arms fall wide before dropping them down at your sides in defeat. “But I didn’t care. Because I was stupid and in love and a fucking virgin when he–” You abruptly cut yourself off when you realize the direction your thoughts are heading. 

You’d already said more than enough. 

“When he what?” Ari’s voice comes out hoarse, barely above a whisper. 

“It doesn’t matter.” You rise up on your toes as you search for an opening to snag your purse.

Because you were through talking about this. It was time for you to head back home, crawl under the covers, and hide there until you could summon the strength to bake every single dessert you could possibly think of using every last bit of the ingredients you had stocked in your kitchen.

And then you would eat them all until you either accidentally gave yourself diabetes or you finally exploded.

“Please talk to me.” This time when Ari takes a step towards you, you beat back a hasty retreat. And you don’t stop moving until you reach his front door. “C’mon, baby, wait!” 

But you didn’t want to wait. What you needed was to be alone. The plan had been to drop off the cobbler, make your amends, and then peace the fuck out. And now it had all gone to shit because you’d allowed Ari Levinson to get under your goddamned skin the way only he could. 

So, you’d walk home and send someone to pick up your car later. If you left now, you’d make it back before the sun had even begun to set. Besides, it wasn’t like you couldn’t use the exercise. 

A firm hand on your arm halts your movements, hauling you backwards against the solid wall of his chest…

Which is when you finally snap.

“I did not give you permission to touch me!” You hiss, turning in the embrace and shoving at him with all your might. However, you know that the only reason the bounty hunter actually lets you go is because you had the element of surprise.

Because holy shit! What the fuck had you just done? 

“Woah, woah.” Ari quickly backs away, his palms raised in surrender. “It’s okay, Bird. I pushed you, so you pushed me. It’s okay. It’s all okay, sweetheart.” You can tell he’s doing his damnedest to keep his tone calm and even so as not to spook you further. 

You give him a shaky nod, feeling more than a little embarrassed by your inability to control your emotions. 

“I’m so–sorry. I didn’t mean to do that.” You manage to eek out, even as your bottom lip starts to tremble. You scrub your hands over your eyes as you fight back tears. “There is no excuse.” You tell him, keeping your head bowed as your knees feel wobbly. 

What an awful mess you’d made of this whole thing. Truly.

“Fuck!” He exhales softly, clearly unsure about whether or not it’s okay to touch you. “I don’t want us to end things like this, baby. I really don’t.” Now there’s a note of desperation in his tone that wasn’t there just a few seconds earlier. 

Ari goes quiet, weighing his options as he contemplates the best way forward. At least that’s what you assume he’s doing, since you’re too preoccupied with wishing the earth would swallow you up where you stood. 

“I’d really like to hold you. But I don’t want to scare you. So you’re gonna have to come to me.” He opens his arms to you then, just as you’re ready to fall apart at the seams. “But – and I can’t stress this enough – only if you want to.”

This time you go time without hesitation. And just like always, your man is right there to catch you before you shattered. 

“I’m so sorry I hurt you!” Your words come on the heels of a muffled sob as you cling to him, pulling his body closer to your own as the feelings of remorse threaten to overwhelm you.

“Shh, little Bird. Shh.” Ari murmurs as he lifts you into his arms and carries you into the living room. Once there, he settles you both on the couch, tucking your smaller frame into his own.

He whispers soft, sweet kisses along the damp skin of your brow as he tangles his fingers in your curls to massage your scalp. “I got you. I got you. I got you.” He tenderly rocks you back and forth while he waits for you to calm down.

“Please don’t leave. I swear I didn’t mean it.” You’re babbling now and you know it, but it does manage to earn you a relieved grin from your man. 

“Nobody’s goin’ anywhere, sweetheart. Not you. And definitely not me.” He cups your jaw, gently forcing you to meet his gaze. “We’re just fine, you and me. I’m a big boy. You surprised me, maybe. But you didn’t hurt me.” 

“But I shouldn’t have –” You begin, your eyes blurring with a fresh wave of tears.

“Listen to what I’m saying.” Ari interjects, his tone containing just the right amount of authority to get your attention. “I’m a big boy, baby. I’m talking 6’3, 220 lbs on a good day. I ignored your body's cues, okay? I'm the one who failed to properly read your warning signs and I got in your space – so please hear me when I say that a pretty large piece of this was my fault too.”

You shake your head “no”, because it should go without saying that Ari would never hurt you. At least not on purpose, and never physically. And yet…

“Baby, you went a little primal is all.” He reaches for your hand to press a kiss to your clammy palm. “That’s all that happened. No harm, no foul. We can even play that way one day, if you’re interested. But not unless we’re both on the same page.”

You weren’t quite sure what he was talking about, but for now you’d simply choose to go with it. Because right now you’d need the kind of comfort and reassurance that only your man could provide. 

Needed him to ground you when you felt like you might float away.

“Okay, but I’m still sorry.” You sniffle, gingerly wiping your nose on his t-shirt. Not that he minds overly much.

“I’m sorry too. Not just for pushing you how I did, but for disrespecting your cobbler. Which is divine by the way.”

Now that has you perking up almost immediately. “But you said –”

“Little Bird, I don’t know shit about what goes in a peach cobbler. My nutmeg crack was a shot in the dark meant to piss you off. I figured once I got you talking, you’d spill your guts, I’d take you to bed where you me me promise not to shoot your ex, and then…” Ari trails off as your words from earlier come flooding back to him.

Not wanting to start down this road again, you wrap your arms around his neck before slanting your mouth over his. Your tongue strokes along his plump bottom lip, seeking entrance. Ari responds without hesitation as he buries both hands in your hair, drawing you closer to him.

Right now you needed this man more than you needed air in your lungs. “Please.” You whimper, shifting your body so that you’re now straddling his hips, your legs coming to rest on either side of his thickly muscled thighs. “Please, Ari. I need you. Don’t make me wait.” You nip at his lips, before trailing a fiery litany of kisses along the curve of his jaw. 

A part of your mind screams at you to slow down, to explain yourself. But you quickly silence it once Ari’s skilled hands abandon your curls in favor of your chest. Gripping the bodice of your dress, he manages to rip the lightweight fabric in two on the first try.

“Fuck, baby! Promise we’ll talk after.” He snarls, more to himself than you.

Meanwhile, you eagerly reach behind you to undo the clasp of your bra. You both let out a groan once you finally rid yourself of the garment, your heavy breasts spilling into his waiting palms. Of course he wastes no time before drawing a pouting nipple into his warm, wet mouth - sucking deep. His expert tongue takes turns teasing and laving at the pebbled tip as wetness pools between your thighs.

“After.” You hurriedly reassure him as you pull away long enough to unfasten his jeans. It winds up taking the both of you working together to free his impressive erection from his boxers, nearly sobbing with relief when it's done.

Because you needed him inside you now. 

Needed him to fill you up just right. Wanted him to go so deep that you didn’t have to worry about thinking anymore. All you wanted to feel was him moving inside you. You couldn’t wait to feel that sweet burn you’d come to crave as he stretched you out with his perfect cock. Couldn't wait for him to claim your body with each slow, delicious stroke of his hips. 

Breathing heavy, your hand fists itself around him as you guide his length to your waiting pussy – your panties having been previously torn to shreds. Right now you were so fucking wet for your hunter that you could feel your slick practically dripping down your thighs. 

“God, yes!” You slowly lower yourself on top of him, welcoming your man into tight, velvet heat. And you relish the feel of nearly being split in two as you begin to ride him.

Ari’s head tips back in bliss, offering you his throat as you use him for your pleasure. “Doin’ so good for me, baby. So fuckin’ tight.” He grits out as your walls spasm around his cock, milking him as if your life depended on it. And in some ways it did. 

He slaps your ass, spurring you on. “Harder!” You growl as your teeth graze along the shell of his ear, loving the rough way he squeezes your globes as you work yourselves into a frenzy. “Just like that, Beast. Don’t let go!”

You bury your face in his neck as stars begin to dance behind your eyes at the same time as that invisible coil tightens in your belly, threatening to snap and send your hurtling into oblivion. But you wouldn't go without your man.  

Not without Ari.

“Never, baby.” Without warning, he flips your bodies so that you’re laying on your back, enabling him to take over. He sets a grueling pace – the sounds of slapping flesh and passion-fueled grunts filling the room. “We go together, you and me.” He captures your lips once more, swallowing your heady little cries of pleasure.   

“You and me, Beast! God, yesss!” You keen, as you wrap your legs around his trim waist, your wedge heels digging into the small of his back. “Now fuck me like you mean it.” 

END 

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[petalsofyouth]

bees that flew away | ran haitani x reader

warnings: drugs usage and alcohol consumption, implied self-harm, unreliable narrator, mentions of a rape (nothing graphic, it's just there), sweet gentle love.

wc: 16 473

author's note: i started writing it on the verge of death and it shows. in the middle of writing it i felt fine and finishing it i was dying once again. oh, and, also! it's a bit unedited. i doubt there are some actual crucial mistakes, but there must be something i overlooked, i'll get to it tmw. so bear in mind that it's unedited. i just wanted to post this, because otherwise i would delay it and delay it and delay it all over again.

_ The room is foggy and you wonder if it’s from five - you counted - lit cigarettes or it’s just your tired drunk brain. It wouldn’t be the first time you conjured something out of nothing. Shaped it in between your fingers and gave it form. Brought it to life.

Your lips quiver and you press them together, averting your red high eyes from you don’t know who. You probably look pitiful and scared because Haruchiyo reaches over and snakes his long arm around your shoulders, hugging you closer to his body. It’s hot in here, but for one reason or another, he is still wearing his favourite old leather jacket. Now, hours into the party, its surface absorbed all the nasty smells of this huge house in Yokohama. It stinks and you gag. 

His long bleached hair smells even worse and you gag again. This time closing your mouth with your palm and he looks at you, worry in his hooded eyes.

He should offer you a glass of water and maybe a ride home, you think. If he was a better - maybe normal - friend. But he does neither of that. He takes the joint from his lips and holds it close to your mouth. When you don’t move, just staring at him as if you don’t understand what he wants from you, he sighs and smiles.

Sweetly.

Haruchiyo is a sweet guy. Your best friend.

Deep down the fuckery that he is he is indeed very sweet and kind; pure.

“Come on,” he urges you, tapping on your shoulder. “Relax. Tensing up and thinking won’t do you any good. Be nice. Open your mouth.”

You do just that and when he places a cigarette between your lips you inhale. Toxic green smog invades your lungs and the nausea subsides. Once again you feel light and careless. You feel almost happy. The knocking on the back of your head and in your heart dies. Killed by your own stupid hands. If Rindou were here you suppose he would’ve been very mad at you. 

For killing and for not caring. For pretending. “Truth or dare?” 

The girl speaks to you and you know that. You feel her stare on yourself and if you weren’t so high you would see the expecting, oh so spiteful, glint in her eyes. If you were sober you would’ve noticed it and probably still would’ve done nothing.

That’s just the way you are. 

“Truth.” She licks her glowing with gloss lips and smiles. Her friend, a girl with uneven bangs and the longest hair you’ve ever seen in your life, just beneath her hips, giggles. They share a glance. A knowing one. The trap they settled for you closing with a loud thump. 

On the right side, with his arms across the girl's shoulders sits Ran Haitani. She’s almost between his legs, but not quite, and yet there’s a striking familiarity that surrounds them. Maybe it’s in a way his thumb caresses the bare skin of her shoulders or maybe it’s her leaning even more into his broad chest when she catches you watching them. 

Either way your hands shake and it might be the alcohol or weed or something entirely else. You don’t bring yourself to care. You simply can’t. 

“So,” the girl speaks. Despite the music and the fog around your senses you can hear her clearly. “Is it true that there are burning marks on your upper thigh?” You tense and beside you Haruchiyo tenses too. But the girl continues, “Is it true that you burnt yourself because you hate yourself? Is it true that you always do it high because you are a fucking coward to do it sober?” Your eyes are open and no matter how much you want to close them and squint them hard, you won’t. You stare at the girl as she spews your silly little sins out like they are nothing; like you are nothing. “Is it true that you wanted to fuck Ran, but he said no, because you are..?” 

She never finishes her sentence and for the rest of your life you can only guess what insult she had prepared for you. 

The table that stood between you falls to the side when Haruchiyo’s Docs comes in contact with it. Ashtrays, bags and glasses scatter on the hardwood floor and you stare at them for quite a time, unable to look at anything or anyone else. The girl screams and her friend screams too and suddenly you aren’t that high anymore and you want to get out of this house, of this party. Out of the sight of all those people. Your body trembles and Haruchiyo, who tightly holds your hand, nudges you to stand up. You do as he asks, because you're tired and because you’ll go anywhere he’ll take you. If Rindou was here, he would’ve hated you not fighting back, but he is not and you are glad there’s one reason less for him to be disappointed in you. “Pathetic fucking excuse of a woman,” Haruchiyo spits at the girl and you tune out, losing yourself in the broken glass on the floor. It’s pretty with myriads of lights - lives - in every broken shard. They are colourful and full of hidden senses you don’t understand. 

In the corner of your vision you notice Haruchiyo raising his free hand. The girl screams again and this time when you finally raise your eyes, you see her face and pretty white t-shirt with one of Sanrio characters on it wet with whatever alcohol Haruchiyo had in his cup. A few splashes of it hit Ran’s cheek and arm too, but it’s hard to say what he is thinking. He was never one to betray his mind and show it off to everyone and besides you don’t look at him for too long. The cup and the remnants of a joint goes straight to the floor too. Haruchiyo steps on them and curses again. 

“Tame your fucking bitch, Haitani. Next time I won’t see that she’s a woman.” With this you leave. Hand in hand, with bitter hearts, you swim between the people and friends, until you are out of the house, in the fresh air outside. The night that meets you is starry and cold and so it’s very beautiful. Both you and Haruchiyo, stand on the side of the street, near the house in silence, clearly absorbed in surroundings. There’s a black cat watching you across the pavement and somewhere in the bushes is a cicada. Or maybe there are many. You have no way of knowing. The smoke of the cigarette - a regular one - hits your nose and you wonder how in the world have you missed the familiar click of Haruchiyo’s favourite ZIPPO lighter. His older brother gifted it to him when he was barely fifteen. The gift is quite questionable and Haruchiyo is not very sentimental, but he always has it with him. There’s a naked woman engraved on it and he fooled you to believe that’s why. The door behind you sways open, but none of you is interested to know who it is. Maybe it’s no one important. Maybe you both should leave and forget this night like many others. But it’s Kakucho and he gently places his huge brown jacket across your shoulders and so you stay for a little bit longer. His harsh presence cuts the night in two and what happened before suddenly turns into an ugly illusion. The cat yawns and you are reminded of how late it actually is.  “True,” you say after the night digs dipper and the smoke of Haruchiyo’s cheap cig envelopes you. 

The boys are quiet. Kakucho turns his head to look at you and you smile shyly under his curious gaze. It’s not like anything really matters. 

“It’s true. Only I never wanted to fuck Ran. I just wanted to share the love I have for him.” Haruchiyo sighs, dropping unfinished cigarettes onto the pavement. You hope the cat's paws won’t touch it and burn. As it hurts when it burns. Very very much so. “Who the fuck cares if it’s true or not?” “I hate to admit it,” Kakucho sighs pretentiously, a kind smile smudged across his lips, “but I do agree with Haru. Who the fuck cares?” Drops of alcohol on his cheek. Little perfect pearls. Wet black blouse. Cold dead eyes. He doesn’t look at you. He never does. He used to, but not anymore and besides it was so long ago, it’s like it’s never happened. Old images of false memories your brain conjured by itself with a sole reason to feel something; anything at all. 

The cat disappears, night swallowing it whole, and you wish it would do the same to you. But beside you two boys bicker so loudly it would never happen. Their voices tie you to them and despite your strong wish to disappear into thin air, you are glad they make you stay. “Do you wanna get going? You are crashing at mine, right?” Haruchiyo asks, stretching out his hand, palm up. You don’t need to think about it, but you still do, taking a little pause before you reply. “Yes. I can’t show up like this at home. Mom’s gonna cry again.” None of these boys know what it means for a mom to cry. And yet they understand the ache and the heartbreak. The sacred prayer to be a better child someone somewhere could be proud of.

Before you part ways, you and Haruchiyo go to find his parked motorcycle and Kakucho his old sporty car he bought with money he probably stole from someone, you shrug Kakucho’s jacket off your shoulders. “No. Take it. You can return it any other time. I don’t mind.” He smiles at you and his smile reaches his eyes. 

_ 

Haruchiyo’s apartment is small, but it’s only his and that is something to be proud of. 

The bathroom is all fogged up from the hot shower you just took. You slip into a pair of clean boxers, old grey sweatshirts and plain white t-shirt. They don’t smell like anything, but they are so undeniably Haruchiyo’, your heart swells. You love your best friend to death. 

“I hate the post high,” he murmurs when you sleep under the duvet next to him. “How are you feeling?” “Like shit and worse.” 

He giggles, but then he grows serious and his hand slides across the bed. He is searching for your hand, to take it into his and calm you down, to show his love. You help him find it. “Your scars are just scars and she is just a bitch. Don’t think about her.” When you don’t reply, he adds. “I know you do. You are breathing strangely.” And when you don’t say anything else, he speaks again. “I have never spoken about those things with anyone. And I can give my head that Rindou hadn’t either. I don’t know how she knows.” 

Those things that are your feelings, your inner world and ugly cracks all over your body. 

Those fucking things. Involuntarily, without your mind's consent, you curl into yourself. Cold attacks your limbs like thousands of small invisible needles and you weep, and Haruchiyo understands why and for what. All the reasons are so plain, they are written in black ink on white paper. You hate that you are so easy to crack open. You want to be something else entirely. 

“I love you,” he shifts closer to you and soon you are one body, “However you are. Okay?” His long beautiful fingers hold your own hands near his bare chest. He twirls your many many rings and swipes his thumb across your skin. Haruchiyo is a gentle creature and you don’t know where it all went wrong and when sleeping pills in his cupboard became dust to snort up his nose. 

“Okay.” 

He smiles at that and checks the window behind you. It’s still dark. The dawn - nowhere in sight. Good. So so so good. Before he closes his eyes, he presses his lips against your damp forehead and then under each of your eyes, kissing the tears and headache away. Somehow he manages to do just that and you fall asleep with a light heart. _

Two summers ago, on the warm evening of the last August day, your careless youth slipped away from you.

It’s an irony that it happened when the sun was setting and a small part of you remained forever imprisoned in that pleasant August day, while another you strode forward to some distant place in the night, where you shouldn’t have been at all. 

You were wearing a pretty sparkling dress and you were all dolled up and beautiful and yet that wasn’t enough.

With your hands behind you, supporting your body and legs stretched forward, you sat on the porch of the Haitani’s house. The sun had already dipped behind the grey buildings and Roppongi, the heart of nightlife in Tokyo, was just summoned back into existence. Sometimes it felt like during the day this bright area was almost dead, barely breathing, due to the sheer constant of blinding lights it birthed at night. 

The all too thoughtfully magazine under your butt did little to protect you from the coldness of the ground. You shivered uncomfortably and gazed at the boy standing in front of you. Ran was always a dream. So handsome. So mature. So perfect with all the hard edges of his character and soft plump of his lips. 

So so so so so. 

It was embarrassing how in love with him you were and it was more embarrassing, almost devastatingly so, that you fell for him the first day you met him. You still remember how the three of you - Ran, Rindou and you - stood near the vending machine under the metal roof of the small bookshop. It was heavily raining then and you were waiting for the droplets to stop. For the storm to cease and for you to go home. You remember Ran’s beautiful face and you remember how he lit up a cigarette and you remember how his body shivered because he was cold and how he smiled when he caught you staring at him. How he said nothing and how that pretty smile of his never left his face until you closed the door of your home and bid them goodbye. 

That day you were supposed to go to a party. Ran was supposed to drive you in his new shiny car and you were supposed to have a good time. Your best friend was already on the train to Roppongi, just one station away and Rindou was still inside the house, torn between white blouse and a grey t-shirt. He didn’t want to appear too casual and yet dressing up never sat right with him. 

Maybe if one of them were with you nothing would’ve happened and maybe you would’ve stayed. 

But none of them were. Only Ran and his stupid smile that fell off his soft lips the moment you confessed. The frown settled on his face then, and he was silent for a very long time, until he spoke and it became dark. 

“You know, I don’t do sloppy seconds. You kinda are my brother’s. It's like… I am sorry. It just won’t work out.”  

Once warm air quickly turned dry and you were suffocating. Heart beating too fast and not enough to spread blood across your cold frigid body, you stood up from the porch and without a mere word strode down the road. Ran didn’t say a word. He didn’t go after you. He didn’t call. And if you were to turn back, you would’ve known that he didn’t even look after you as you were slowly disappearing between the building and despair. 

The rest of the evening passed in blur. There’s no recollection in your mind of how you ended up in that particular bar and how you spent the little yen you had on you. Till this day, you believe it is your brain that is protecting you from sleazy hands of men across your body, shielding you from the force of pain that overtook you once they had your way with you. You don’t remember much because you were drunk and high, but you remember when Rindou ran into the toilet of that bar and looked away from your abused body splattered on the floor. And you can still hear the sob your friend let out when she saw you. And if you try hard enough you can still feel the love of Rindou’s blouse when your best friend dresses you up in it. Her warm hands on your marked dirty skin.  

And of course, you remember the day after, when you woke up in her bed and you both sobbed together, until numbness overtook you and you surrendered to it like a warm hug from the life of your life. 

Since that very day, two summers ago, when your little heart was broken and your youth bid you a gruesome farewell, Ran Haitani hadn’t spoken to you at all. It’s like instead of you there was a blank waste of a space and somehow you could understand him. You could justify his silence. 

_ 

The headache after a hangover is never kind. Mixed with a loud banging on the door and muffled - thanks God - shouts of the Rindou it is truly the worst. 

The inner sides of his fists are red, but irritated skin shows barely an ounce of the frustration and anger that bubble in Rindou’s throat. His always so pretty face, now scarred by fury, is what gives him away and by the force with which he kicks off his boots, you can tell he wasn’t trying to ease himself or hide how he is feeling. “What the actual fuck,” he shouts and neither Haruchiyo who stands near the still open door, nor you still in bed under thick blanket can’t tell if this is a question or a statement. 

His body rigid and eyes burning an unfriendly fire Rindou throws his bag on the ground near the wooden dinner table that Takeomi brought in Haruchiyo’s apartment - or rather picked it up from the garbage -  and strides through the only room to you. “Get up and strip,” he commands and his voice so unnerving, so angry and forceful leaves no space for you to retreat to. You hate when he is doing this, but you understand why and his quivering lips and red dust across his cheeks are enough for you to forgive him. It’s hard for him too. 

Loving you and caring for you is hard. But it’s not a new found truth so it’s easy to fathom it in your bones.

You shed clothes that aren’t even yours, easily. One by one they pile up near your legs, a protective shell broken and discharged, until you stand there in your panties and palms for a bra. Haruchiyo curses and averts his gaze. He despises these little checks-up Rindou does and he resents that you are letting him do them every single time. Not once you said “no”.

Smooth hands glide across your skin. Between legs, under your arms, right down the spine. Optical examination ceased to be effective long ago when you put makeup on the newish wound you inflicted upon yourself. Now, Rindou had to be sure. Now, he needed your safety ensured by his own two hands. You wonder if he does all these, because he feels guilty. Because he thinks what happened to you is partially his fault. You had this conversation with him already and it ended in you sobbing and him so angry you were almost afraid of him, but not nearly. Rindou, too, is sweet and kind. Maybe a little bit more so than Haruchiyo. 

That’s why you aren’t asking anything anymore. Instead of a question you puff out a little air from between your lips. Rindou’s head shots up and he looks at you, his eyes hidden behind the thin metal rim of his glasses. You suppress a laugh. Something in between his white and blue locks charges you with merriness. 

He watches you as you press your lips together and adjust his glasses higher up his nose. He is not amused, you can tell that much, but he isn’t angry anymore and that is a relief. And he let you touch his glasses, something he never allows anyone to do [except you, but not when he is in a bad bad bad mood]. So, you decide, the storm is over. The waves are calm. 

“Not even gonna ask what you are laughing about,” he mumbles, inspecting your ankles and when he finds nothing, he stands up from the floor, not before picking up the clothes on the floor. 

“Your eyes,” you make a vague gesture with your fingers in front of your own face, “They were just hidden and you looked so… I don’t know… Never mind, Rin.” In front of you in the kitchen fighting with a kettle Haruchiyo snorts. There’s a herbish aroma and something almost too sweet circulating in the air and it’s so strong it startles you. Too absorbed in Rindou you didn’t notice the smell before. Another Haruchiyo’s tea concoction. Hopefully, this time successful. 

“Did you two get high yesterday?” Rindou asks, going inside the kitchen - it’s hard to tell where the bedroom ends and kitchen starts since Haruchiyo’s apartment is a studio - and peeking over Haruchiyo’s shoulder. “You laugh even more in the post-haze than you do while you are at it.” The silence that settles is murmuring all the nasty things that happened yesterday right in Rindou’s ears. He looks between the two of you exchanging glances and sighs. 

“Whatever. Honestly, I am not even interested. I am here this early only because your mom called.” At this, you stop, your sweatpants half way your legs. You would’ve called Rindou out for lying, because he is here not only because of your mother’s call, but because he simply can not stop caring for you. But then, when your parent calls Rindou it’s never a good thing. It’s always about your scars, your secrets and your lies. 

This time, however, you know why she called him and you sit down on the bed, feeling like the smallest tiniest human being in the whole world. You hate this feeling of a deep humiliation. You want to burn yourself to not remember the ache in your tightened jaw and the disgusting sweat on your clammy palms. 

“If this is about the blades under my bed I didn’t buy them to… har… cut myself. I bought them for postcards.” 

He doesn’t buy it. He bites his lip and shakes his head, waiting for you to continue. “I am telling the truth, Rindou. I bought them to cut out postcards. I… I…” Hot tears pool in your eyes and you hate that he doesn’t believe you and you so badly want to pity yourself, but you can’t. Can’t do this. Because it’s your own fault no one trusts your words and promises anymore. When they look at you and pity you it’s done by your own hands. Hands you too want to burn. 

“Oh, baby, stop,” Haruchiyo helps you pull your sweatpants up and then he ties the drawstrings for you, his body - a shield between you and Rindou, “you didn’t cut yourself with those blades, did you?” “No, I swear, I didn’t,” you repeat it a few times and the only thing that makes you stop mumbling is the pain that seeps through Haruchiyo’s eyes into your heart. 

“Well, good to hear, but you will have to buy a pair of scissors for your postcards, because I threw away those blades you hid under your bed.”  

A clammy hands of desperation tighten around your neck and you want to scream. From frustration and from anger, from despair. Was it like this back too? Your every word carefully weighed and put on the pedestal to judge? You don’t think so. For better or for worse you can’t remember how it was before, but you wonder when everyone will just give up on you. 

With a loud screech against the chair against the floor, Rindou stands up. He takes a few steps and gently shoves Haruchiyo away from you. His long white hair swaying in the air. Haruchiyo smiles at you, reassuringly, kindly and the pools of grim pain evaporate from his beautiful eyes. Love heals, you think. So then, why do you remain sick? “You know how much I care about you, do you?” Rindou asks, cupping your face, his thumbs stroking your cheeks. “I’ll do anything for you to be healthy, happy and well. If it means I have to be harsh with you then I will. And if it means you will hate me somewhere on the way, so be it. But I won’t let you down again. Get this in your head. I. Am. Not. Letting. You. Down. Ever. Again.” Haruchiyo turns away and gets to his kettle and tea. And you finally silently cry cradled into Rindou’s warmth. Humiliation washes away with salty tears and the ever so heavy guilt crashes upon your shoulders. It’s better than anything, you think. Because that means you still care too and that means you are alive and well and there’s hope that one day all the check-ups and blades and tears will be in the past. 

You believe in this. 

Haruchiyo’s tea turns out not so bad and you and Rindou have two cups, one and half each. 

_ 

That day you come home late in the evening. 

You still wear Haruchiyo’s clothes and have Kakucho’s jacket thrown over your shoulders. The sneakers you place on the shoe rack - dusty black Adidas - are yours. This random sudden thought makes you happy and for the first time in a while you bubble with excitement. Over shoes. It can’t be normal. It’s not normal. Probably just a lingering side-effect of weed or bottled up emotions in which Rindou effectively made a hole once again. Inside the living room, under tonkatsu, sits your family. They are watching TV over dinner. You see an empty plate and an empty space reserved just for you and your giddy happiness holts. You had dinner with Rindou and Haru already and you aren’t hungry. Guiltiness spreads across your lungs like a web of poisonous spiders. 

Your mother is the one who sees you first. She is wary and tired when she looks at you, but this is nothing new. Your father turns back to look at you too, he nods and returns to the TV as soon as he can. He says, you should join them and eat something, you must be starving. You nod and wave at your little sister. She waves back. 

You go inside your room.

No one said anything about new shining scissors you had in your hand that Rindou bought for you. 

No one came to check on you and you didn’t have dinner together. 

_ You skip school for the next few days. 

There’s no particular reason. You just don’t feel like going. 

In front of you, there’s a void and it’s luring you in. Black colour, so inviting and beautiful. Inside of a space avoidant of anything and everything, where no air is floating, you are blossoming. The slightest aroma of laundry detergent and fresh baked cookies are so hard to resist and this is exactly what this imaginary [not so] place of yours smells like. You wish you could stay there forever. 

You almost do. 

But then your phone rings and the number is unknown. Yet, you have the slightest hunch of who it could be. That’s why you pick it up. 

“Hey! You have no idea how hard it was to get your number. You do have some seriously overprotective friends,” Kakucho laughs echoes through that night where you met a black cat to now  and then right into your ear. 

You hum, holding your phone in the safest place between your ear and shoulder, “I guess you could say that. Why are you calling? Oh! I am sorry I totally forgot to give you your jacket back. Do you wanna meet up somewhere? I am free now.” 

He laughs again and you notice that his laugh is boisterous and contagious. It’s almost childish in its raw sincerity. You haven’t heard people being that happy in a long long time. In a reminiscence the corner of your lips stretch up on their own. “What about… Can you be at Shibuya station in twenty minutes?” “I can try.” “Cool. I'll see you there then!” 

He hangs up just as abruptly as he called and the taste in your mouth is not of sweet abyss cookies, but of metal and caramel. It’s exciting in the most lazy manner. 

Outside, running down the street, to catch the bus on time, you notice the vast blue sky that is so clear it looks like it’s made of glass. You stop on the crossroad, hands on your hips, and take a few shallow breaths. Running was never and will never be your forte, but you stare at the infinite beauty that covers the whole earth and all people living on it, and wonder why haven’t you got out of the house earlier. 

_ Kakucho takes you to a nice barbeque place. 

It’s a chain restaurant, so the food is quite cheap and nice. You order two bowls of rice, beef, soup and kimchi. Kakucho gets himself Sapporo beer and you ask for iced lemon tea which he claims doesn’t go well with meat, but still smiles when you sip it. 

He is sitting opposite you in a small booth made for two people only. He is wearing a black turtleneck and plain jeans that can’t be that expensive, but they do look like he paid more than twenty thousand yen to get them. On the back of his chair hangs yet another leather jacket. The one he gave you sits in the Mitsukoshi bag under the table near your leg. 

In everything he does, Kakucho is effortless and confident. He grills the meat for you and he carries the conversation for you too. He asks you about school, about your hobbies, your likes and dislikes and even learns what your favourite colour is. 

Half through this spontaneous dinner you understand that this was never about returning his jacket. At least for him. But then, it’s his dark black hair that he spontaneously decided to grow out almost two years ago after he got tired of seeing that ugly bald dude with a scar in reflection every morning. [This you too learn over the food and while you want to tell him that by no means he can be considered ugly, you suppress yourself and listen to his soothing voice carrying you to yet another story already.] They are so black, they almost have this blue-ish inky feeling to them. And somehow looking at him so smiley, so kind and so handsome, so welcoming and accepting, so invested in every few words you say, he reminds you of those beautiful warm summer nights. Not the one that happened two summers ago, but all the ones before that. It’s a burning sensation and it calms you. 

You think, if he wants you might give him a chance. 

It’s dark when you go outside and back to the metro station. 

“Next time I’ll see you I’ll bring my car. I feel really bad, but my car is in the service. The engine has been acting up.” 

“Don’t be ridiculous, Kakucho,” you say counting the colourful kaleidoscope of the stained glass window of the random shop, you pass by. You connect every piece to seconds that fly away and they make beautiful constellations. “Just think it’s a good thing you are taking me home then and we are going by foot and not driving there. I am bad with directions. But now you are going to remember where I live and next time you can pick me up right from home. You know, just to pay for all the walking we did today.” He bites his smile back, lips pressed tightly together, but it fights him and reaches his eyes. They shine. _ “Since when are you and Kakucho going out?” 

You sit on the floor of Haruchiyo’s apartments with a scissor in your hands. Bright patterned paper, stickers, glue and so many other things you sure are two boys in the room with you don’t even know the name of, lay in a circle surrounding you. It’s messy, but Haruchiyo who lays on the bed, behind you and watches every single creative step you take, doesn’t seem to mind. 

In fact he never does. 

“We are not going out,” you mumble, eyes focused on cutting the most precisely shaped heart without an outline. “We’ve been hanging out. That’s all.” Rindou doesn’t seem to be convinced. He glances over to Haruchiyo laying on his stomach, blond hair a curtain, and sighs. 

“You do know, he has a thing for you?” “Well, I mean I kinda do, but I am sure it’s not anything serious. Who would’ve been in lo…” “He punched Ran at that party and they haven't talked since then.” 

The scissors stop and the bright yellow heart falls to the ground. It’s nicely and evenly cut out, but something about it isn’t right and you can’t tell what it is and you are spiralling and nothing can stop you now, because fire is nowhere in reach. You scratch your left thigh. 

“I didn’t wanna tell you, but…” “I am glad Kaku did it. I am sorry Rin, but it was actually very nasty there and if not for her,  I would’ve killed his bitch first and then kill him,” you hear the springs in the old mattress squeak and then Haruchiyo plops right next to you, making a space for himself between glue bottles, colourful tapes and you. “Ran never told her anything, because he didn’t even know, and I never told Ran or anybody about it. It wasn’t my brother’s fault she ran her mouth. For all I know Ran and her were never even together.” “Oh, really? Then how the fuck does she know?” The anger rising up in Rindou scorches you and you wince, but boys being boys, playing their own little war don’t notice it. “How would I know that? I just know that even if Ran knew he would never speak about it with anybody else!” “For fuck’s sake, Rindou, I know he is your older brother and you always admired him and…” 

The words bleed. The wounds they leave suffocate. You plaster a yellow heart over a red cardboard. You draw millions of hearts around it. You wish they’d stop now, but you know them both well enough, to know they won’t. You know how much Rindou loves Ran and how much Haruchiyo thinks everything that happened to you is because of Ran. But it’s not. What happened to you has never been Ran’s fault and you won’t let anyone think that. Not even your sweet pretty Haruchiyo. “I believe it,” you say loudly enough to stop them. “In fact, I know it wasn’t Ran who told her. Ran is not like that and… I… I just know he didn’t know about it. It wasn’t him. It wasn’t Ran and it’s not his fault. Neither it’s his responsibility or yours.” Splashes of alcohol across his cheek and wet t-shirt. The look on his face. Of pure horror and so many regrets. It wasn’t Ran. It could never be him. 

Rindou and Haruchiyo mend over the sweet sour chicken you make for them. They laugh, and joke and make those stupid boyish remarks only male in their twenties can. But you forgive them for that and for everything else too, like they do the same for you. 

It’s when Rindou examines your newest red card with yellow heart and I LOVE YOU RINDOU written across it, he brings the subject of Kakucho back. “Just so you know, I won’t hesitate to add another scar to his face.” Haruchiyo snorts, “Aren’t you two like best gym buddies?” “Yes we are. But he doesn’t make me postcards. And want it or not, but my loyalty lies with my brother so we aren’t speaking either.” 

Haruchiyo never comments anything on it and neither do you, but for the rest of the evening and well into the night when you lay down in Haruchiyo bed and try your best to sleep, you can’t help it, but think where does your loyalty lay? To what latitude does it extend and what seconds are most important to you to get back to them over and over again. _ 

It’s summer and you are in Kyoto. You are in your last school year and life has never ever been more beautiful. The green around you has the most vibrant colour and the sun above you is the warmest it has ever been. You close your eyes, spread your arms and melt. If you had to choose a moment to live in forever it would be this. 

There’s a festival going on in town. You hear music and people laughing. You smell chicken and something very very sweet. But despite this cacophony of smells and sounds, you also hear birds chirping and because of that your heart beats twice as fast. It’s a pretty feeling and you hope your heart will stay this way forever. 

Ran finds you kneeling in front of the small flower cart in front of the flower shop. You are so engrossed in the scenery of random shapes and ethereal feelings to them, you don’t notice him at all. Or so he thinks, because it’s very very difficult for you not to sense Ran’s presence.

It’s even harder not to feel his lazy stare on you and it’s impossible to not be burned by his crooked hazy smile as he watches you pecking tender petals with your fingertips.  

“Where’s Rin?” You ask, eyes focused on the bright pink flower. Ran takes a step, then another one and then he squats by your side, shoulders touching, the flower unnoticed. “With Kakucho, your two friends and Haruchiyo at a sportswear store.” “What?” Head snapping to the side, you study his face, to see if he is teasing you and while his lips are stretched in a smile, you don’t think he is. 

“I know. I am surprised Haruchiyo tagged along with them,” he stops talking, his lips form a straight concerned line and the crease between his blonde eyebrows makes you want to press a fingertip in there to soothe it. 

But instead of you reaching out to him, it’s him raising his hand to your shoulder. You hear a little buzzling near your ear, see the blue vast sky and people swarming behind Ran and you feel so warm, so safe, so i-wanna-freeze-this-moment. And you don’t know why your heart clenches the way it does and why your hands get clammy. 

“It’s a little bee,” Ran says, eyes fascinated by the small creature sitting on his finger. “Probably mistook you for a flower.” He laughs and shakes the bee away. It falls in the air, but as if remembering it can actually fly, spreads its little tiny wings and goes off. To the crowd. To the festival. To so many shared happy moments. 

“Do you want to go eat something? I am starving and on my way here I saw a decent looking place that serves yukke.” “Can we get Yatsuhashi after?” you stand up first, your head a bit dizzy from squatting for so long. Ran grins and nods, “Anything you want.” It’s on the way to the more than decent looking, but high-class restaurant that Ran takes you to, in the middle of your conversation that you remember about the flowers you were so fascinated with. There was no tag on them and you weren't sure they were even for sale, and yet you wished you went inside the shop and asked. Everything needs a name to stay. Today, Ran is eager to provide you with one. “It’s camellia. The flower you were looking at. Did you like it?” 

The sun is still high up in the sky and people are still walking. The Gion Matsuri festival will last for another three days. “Since when can you tell flowers?” 

You are genuinely interested and maybe that’s why Ran responds. You are sure he wouldn’t otherwise. 

“Mom used to have a book on flowers. Encyclopaedia. Was obsessed with them and how do you think she came up with the name for me and Rin? Obviously took them from there. It was the only thing that remained after she left. Along with our names.” 

“Well, you and Rindou remained too and then that old apartment of yours.” The smile blooms on his face again. He points at the restaurant with his finger and leads you there, “That apartment was actually of our beloved father. I wanted to set it on fire, but Rin talked me out of it.” 

Somehow you know once again he is telling you the truth. The fire, him and Rindou, and the book that for one reason or so many more others he kept and read so many times, he could tell camellia apart from other flowers. 

“Anyway, do you think bees migrate?” Inside the restaurant almost all tables are busy, but Ran finds you a perfect place near the outdoor garden for two people. You get a haunting feeling like it was waiting for you. “You mean migrate like birds do?” “Yeah,” he says casually overlooking the menu, “Oh, they have your favourite iced lemon tea. I always thought it’s amusing how you never drink anything hot.”  

“I don’t like hot things. They burn. I hate it when it burns,” you do and you don’t think you’ll ever change. “And to answer your question, I don’t think bees migrate. I’ve never seen them flying around freely like birds.” “I’ve never seen a single bee in Roppongi. Today's gotta be my first time.” You end up ordering a lot more than you both can eat. It’s always like this with Ran and you think you know why. You think you understand him, and his questions and a lot more things he tries to keep confined in that heart of his. 

Like an encyclopaedia of flowers and bees that flew away.  

_ You and Kakucho will never end up together. Not in this universe, not in any other. He is the first one to break it to you, but you were the first to realise. 

The truth is swallowed under bright cold stars. There’s not much light on the pier where you are lying down on the cold grey cement, but the roar of crashing waves and flickering lights of bulk carriers’ lamps are enough to guide you home. If needed. 

“I feel like I could love you, but you won’t let me,” he says and these words are mere whispers that take the form of a knife. Dull or sharp doesn’t matter. It still cuts your skin in two and you bleed. This is nothing new. 

“Maybe you are right,” is all you say. Your hands on your belly, you imagine sharks, three of them, emerging from the water and ripping you apart. They have five rows of deadly sinful teeth that will shred your flesh in seconds before you become part of them and the sea. You won’t die and you’d feel pain until sun blasts and the Earth will pause to exist and you with it. But no sharks come out and you are breathing. 

“I still want to be your best friend, though,” Kakucho turns to his side, prompts his head on his palm and peers in your face. “If you want to, of course.” 

Under his gaze, you think he’s searching for something. You want to tell him not to, because he won’t find it there. There’s no fight left in you. It’s all in vain, all in vain! “Nah. Those roles are taken,” you are only half-joking, but he doesn’t have to know that. “You can try though.” “Oh, I will. I will try my very best. I still like you. It’s not like it will go away any time soon.” If sharks do come, you pray, please don’t kill Kakucho too. He deserves to live a long nice life with a person who will love his gentle soul. But again, no sharks come, and you and him are alive and well. And an hour later he drops you off at home and you wish you won’t see him again and regret your inability to make people feel love. _ Haruchiyo’s hair is the prettiest you’ve ever seen. You’ve known him since you were eleven and every single hairstyle he had he owned. He was a young cheerful boy then, and a quite pretty young man now. Sometimes, you wished you could be together. You think both of you could make it work and maybe both of you would, if there wasn’t Rindou in between of you. But, today, there’s no Rindou and Haruchiyo’s head is in your laps and his clear bright eyes, almost transparent in their intensity, look at you and you only.  

“What are you thinking about?” He asks, hand finding yours, fingers sewn together. “Nothing much,” you lie and he accepts it, because he knows what goes in your head.

He sighs then, a tired loud sigh ripped right from his chest, just where his heart is. He tears himself off you, and sits opposite you, stretching his legs on each side of you. 

“If you want, we can, but I do agree with Kaku, you will never love anyone, even me, like you love that beanpole. And hurting me will break your heart more than… Ah, you understand what I mean, right? And sex won’t solve anything either. It’s gonna make everything worse. And I am willing to give up anything I might feel for us, but not you and what we already have. I love you and I love your happiness and it’s not with me. Not in that way.” “Wow,” you giggle, face hot with tears. Haruchiyo smiles. His kind, beautiful smile makes him even more ethereal than he already is. With this angel white hair. 

He leans in and kisses you on your lips. Hands on your wet cheeks, he doesn’t wipe them away, but hold them there and you feel them. They are cold and sorrowful. They are happy. 

“Let’s go eat something. I’m paying. And if you want we can rent a movie to watch before we come back.” I do, you say and he nods. He kisses your forehead and helps you stand up. Haruchiyo is your best friend and you don’t really suppose you are destined to become something else. And it’s good. It does feel right. 

_ The school is somehow not how you remember it. It’s even more dull, grey and ugly. You so badly want to drop out and never come back, but you can’t disappoint your family and friends more than you already have. You suck all your regrets and unpleasantries in, and continue to carry on. 

Today, you are all alone. Haruchiyo isn’t in Tokyo and neither is Rindou. They went to that stupid DJ convention in Osaka and you, sitting in the cafeteria with your store bento box in front of you, wish you were with them. They are for sure having a lot of fun. 

Unlike you. 

It’s not a recent thing, but you are craving company, because thoughts inside your head are suffocating you. You see fires, fireworks and sharks with fairy lights. You feel waves and your little sister stares at you. Your skin pops off, wrinkling and coming off in ugly distorted layers. 

You need this to stop, until you do the unforgivable and this is betraying Rindou to whom you promised not to do anything with yourself. You promised to go to school and study and be a good girl. Just for this week. Until he comes back and it gets easier to breathe. 

Maybe, you should call Kakucho and go out with him. He won’t say no. You know that well and that’s why you don’t call him. He is too good for you and your haunting voices in your mind. 

Everything seals in, when your friend finds you in the cafeteria and invites you to the party. It’s a small intimate gathering she promises and it’s gonna be so fun! We can dress up and have a little fun. We haven’t hung out in so long. Let’s go! Let’s go! Let’s go! We are going to have the best night ever. 

You don’t think twice, you need to relax and shut your shaking fears in your head, lock them away and preferably kill. So, you say “yes” and it makes your friend so happy, she spills her orange juice on your bleached jeans that your mother washed yesterday. _

The party is awful and your heart screams at you to get out before it’s too late. 

But your friend holds your hand and you feel safer and she claims she knows a lot of people there and they are nice and then, she would never let anything happen to you. The last part is true, but there’s only so much a young girl in her twenties can do. People she knows are a group of men. They look like rock stars, smudged eyeliner and long hair, multiple piercings in both ears. There’s no way to tell their age, but you don’t think they are that much older. A strong smell of weed and alcohol doesn’t scare you either. It feels familiar. 

With a few drags from a blunt you levitate, head in clouds, river of shitty bitter drink in your stomach, you levitate. You laugh and giggle and let the boy with orange bleached hair throw an arm around your bare shoulders. His touch isn’t anything, it’s barely there. 

Until it’s not. 

Until, his hand slides to your breast and he squeezes it. Once, twice, you lose the count. You feel sick, smoke disintegrated from your head, alcohol still in your blood. All the scars you carry on your body itch. You breathe in and breathe out, and the boy mistakes it for excitement. He grins, eyes foggy and greedy. 

The bile rises up in your throat. You shove it down, to your stomach. The friend that promised to be there for you isn’t here anymore and you can’t pinpoint the moment she left. Hazy thoughts and remnants of what she said to you before going upstairs with one of the boys are still there, but they are melted in the hold and attention forced on you. 

When the boy turns you around and kisses your neck, you’ve had enough. With a smile on your lips, and wobbly legs, you push him away, hands on his chest and he groans unsatisfied and hungry. He dives right back, fingers latching onto your waist. “I really need to use the restroom,” you whisper again and again and again. “I really need to. Please. I’ll be back. Just let me go.” He doesn’t and his friends laugh behind you. Is there no one to help you? No one to not let that awful night happen again? “Please, I just want to go to the restroom,” you plead and this time he releases you. You flee away. With trembling hands and shaking heart, you flee away and run to the bathroom. It’s vacant and it’s dirty, but it will do. It will do until you think of how to escape that party and get home. To your mom, to your dad and to you sweet little sister. To everything good and innocent that still lives in you. But now, you cry. You sit on the dirty floor in the house of a person you don’t know with a dress ridden to your mid thighs and cry. You cry for betraying Rindou’s trust, because once you are out of here, you’ll cut and then you’ll burn yourself and this time you hope it hurts so much, you won’t be able to feel anything for weeks. You hope it scars your body so ugly everyone will finally turn away from you. But firstly, you need to get out of here and this is almost impossible, because that guy wants you and waits for you and you promised to be back. Swallowing, you reach out for your phone. It’s in your bag. It’s fully charged and when you are about to dial Kakucho’s number, because he’s the only person to come and get you now, it rings. You answer before you see the name of the caller. “Hey! Why weren’t you answering my calls? Where the fuck are you?”

It’s Rindou and you know everything ends here. “I am fine. I am just at the party with…” “Are you crying? What the fuck? Where are you?” You sob. Because he is harsh with you and because he has every right to be. 

“Rin, I am sorry, I… that guy… I don’t want you to worry about it. I’ll call Kakucho and he…” “Who? Did someone hurt you? You need to tell me where the fuck you are.” “He just… Rin, I can’t… Why are you in… I am sorry… I want to go home.” He is panicking. On the line, in another city, his heart breaks in two for you. “I need you to tell me where you are. Tell me where the fuck you are.” You tell him. The address, the way to the bathroom and even what you are wearing. You have no idea why you are doing this, because Rindou is no god and he can’t get to Tokyo, to you, swiftly. Today, he won’t save you. But he promises you he will and then he hangs up, only to call you a couple of minutes later and talk to you about anything and everything, before you are safe. Before you are you again. _ The lightning that shoots through your body is so strong and powerful, you straighten up against the door and stop breathing. Outside is eerily quiet. The music is no longer playing and people aren’t speaking. It’s like the world died and you are the only one left. “What is it?” Rindou asks after he catches you not listening to him telling you about the new DJ set up he and Haruchiyo saw today at the exhibition. It’s pointless asking him, because you do know the answer to your question, but you do ask anyway. “Who did you call, Rindou?” “Ran. I called Ran. Is he there?” 

His voice is soft and comforting, but it does little to calm your wires of nerves.  Suddenly the world is very crispy and clear. “Rin, I don’t think I am ready to talk to him and…” “Listen here,” he interrupts you, taking a long pause, “It’s just Ran. My older brother. The guy you knew since what? Five years old? I don’t know a better person I can trust you with than him.” “It’s not that… it’s just… I am not ready… I don’t think…” A knock on the door never lets you finish the sentence. Rindou is babbling up on the phone again, you can hear him, but you can’t comprehend what he is saying. Slowly you open the door. You feel safe. You start breathing again. _ Ran doesn’t take you to your house. He doesn’t speak to you when he escorts you out of the house, your hand in his, and he doesn’t speak to you once he stops near KFC, gets out and gets back with two large bags he throws in the backseat, neither does he say anything when he makes the last stop at convenience store two blocks away from his and Rindou’s apartment. 

Two stops and thirty minutes ride, you don’t hear his voice even once. I am with her, is what he said to Rindou when he found you and took your phone from your hands; it still sits in the right pocket of his sweats. 

And you, you don’t try to talk either. Instead, you watch him. You caress his face with your eyes and try to spot if everything is different since you last saw him this close. Two summers ago. 

You don’t find anything new and it’s disappointing and relieving at the same time. Inside the apartment everything is still. He flickers on the light in the living room, places bags with food and drinks on the table and turns to you, standing where he left you. In the corridor. “Go and take a bath. Puke if you want and then come here. We’ll eat and we’ll talk.” When you don’t move he adds. “Go and wash yourself, I’ll bring you fresh clothes in a minute. Go.” The shower does help you. Water and soap feel nice on your skin and it’s not the cleansing you wish it was, but it still makes you feel better. Less anxious and more grounded. It also washes your worries away and you can’t help, but blame it on the weed wearing off your body. You are happy you are sober now and you wish it was something else that sobered you and not a random guy groping you at the party you shouldn’t have been at, at all. You don’t puke and you rinse your mouth with green mouth wash that you find on the sink. Haruchiyo has the same one at his apartment. You think if he is already aware of what happened. You should call him tomorrow and say you are okay, you are fine. Nothing bad happened. You suppose Rindou has told him, but you want to reassure him yourself. Ran sits on the floor when you emerge from the bathroom, wearing black sweats and grey t-shirt. You know it’s his clothes and you know when he raises his head and sees you wearing them, the corner of his lips tug up. He is quick to lower his head again, eyes on the chicken and fries neatly divided between two plates, as he motions you to come join him. 

This time you do it without hesitation. You eat in silence. Words on the tip of your tongue you so desperately want to say something, but it’s not your turn to talk and so you wait, until he gathers up and says what he has to say to you. “You are staying here. I already called your mom and told her you are with me so you don’t have to worry about it. I also spoke with Rindou and he’ll stay at the convention until the end. He won’t return tomorrow as he initially wanted.” You don’t say anything back. The fast food Ran bought is delicious and this apartment with him in it is a pleasant nice memory you dissolve in. You sip on your beloved iced lemon tea and you hope this moment of the night will never end or it will snatch you away. Imprison you in its comfort. “How do you feel?” His purple eyes never leave your presence and while the question is expected, you never wanted him to ask you that, because for once you don’t want to lie anymore. You are sick and tired of lying. “I am fine now, but I don’t think I’ll be tomorrow morning when I leave and I’ll probably get worse when I am home and alone.” He hums to that, shaking his head. His hair is parted in two nicely done braids. It’s longer than you remember it and yet it’s the same. “You won’t go home tomorrow morning. You are staying here until the answer to that question is I am good. Until I see you are better I am not letting you go.”

“Ran, I don’t think it works like that.” “Then, we’ll make it work like that.” 

That puts an end to your conversation. Together you wash dishes and he returns to his room, while you slip in Rindou’s bed and close your eyes. Violence is never an answer to you, and maybe Ran didn’t mean to enforce anything on you, and that’s why he didn’t close the door to his room as he always did before [you remember it so, but he might have changed, it’s been years after all], but you want to try. You so desperately want to feel good, you are willing to do anything. _ The next morning comes and you are the first to wake up. Ran’s room is dark and silent. The door is still open. There’s no sound coming out. Everything is still and motionless, but alive. That’s how you know he is actually home, inside his room sleeping peacefully. 

You don’t move around much. You don’t want to wake him up, because you do remember how grumpy he gets when someone disturbs his sleep. So, instead, you return back to Rindou’s bedroom and lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Your phone is still in Ran’s possession and you are quite bored. Not that you can do much with it, but you could have messaged Rindou or Haruchiyo. It’s better than doing anything and in Rindou’s bedroom there’s nothing much to shorten the time you have until Ran wakes up. 

It’s around noon when your back gets so stiff and you just simply can’t fall asleep again no matter how hard you try, so you get off the bed and stride into the kitchen. The cupboards don’t have much and it’s even worse than at Haruchiyo’s house. That boy at least has a collection of tea, instant coffees, chicken take-outs leftovers and rice. All Haitanis have are a pack of rice, one cup of instant noodles, a carrot, two cans of spam and five eggs. It’s all definitely courtesy of Rindou. Ran solely survives on deliveries and eating in those favourite posh restaurants of his. 

It’s another hour and a smell of grilled spam that lures him out of the bed. He crosses the corner that separates his bedroom and kitchen, and with a heavy blanket across his shoulder and droopy eyes that are ready to close any second, stares at you. “What are you cooking?” 

“Rice with spam and eggs.” “I didn’t know we had eggs. Good. I’ll be right back.” 

He disappears into his room and then reappears a second after and goes straight into the bathroom and you standing in their little kitchen for the first time since yesterday shrink in size, feeling very very small. It’s all too strange, you comprehend, mind spiralling and angry and so frustrated. So so so strange for you to be here, in Ran’s and Rindou’s kitchen, cooking a miserable attempt at breakfast at noon, for yourself and a guy with whom you once were so close, but then you haven’t spoken in almost two years and now… 

You freeze, hands raised mid-air, and mouth slightly parted. Breathing in and out. In and out. In and out. 

Now… Now, there’s rice on the stove and you need to reach for bowls, which should be in the cupboard right in front of you. That’s if they didn’t wake up one day and decided to store their dishes in the drawer next to the fridge.

Now, you need to turn the stove off, so the spam will stay crispy, and not turn into an ugly tasteless black  coal. You need to do all this and that’s what you do. Ran is back to you in almost no time. He watches you carefully, and you wonder if he sees your worries in your trembling hands and bitten lips, in how you avoid his intense gaze. But if he does, he doesn’t say anything. Wordlessly, he helps you by taking both of the bowls, leaving you to grab chopsticks and soya sauce. 

He settles on the floor and you sit next to him, putting a comfortable distance between the two of you. 

It’s very Ran to not turn on the TV. He eats quietly, throwing a small praise your way, that means nothing, because it’s just an appreciative humming and a couple of pleased curses. You eat too, because there’s nothing else to do and you are kinda hungry. It’s also is a distraction enough not to send you down your torture tunnel again. You welcome it happily, grabbing the opportunity with both hands. You welcome Ran staring at you too. You suppose you are acting as the TV for him today. The thought makes you smile. “Yesterday, when I arrived, no one would tell me who was the guy that made you uncomfortable by touching you,” he starts, confident with purple eyes never leaving you. “They only spoke when I kneeled one of them down and stepped on their fingers.” The rice in front of you, sticky from the yolk, dances. You wish you could dance too, but you haven’t had a good dance since the last party with Haruchiyo and Rindou almost two weeks ago, where Rindou got so drunk, he couldn’t remember what his name was, but he remembered you. That moment was sweet and you think the moment now isn't really so, but your mouth suddenly tastes like cotton candy and it’s a pleasant feeling. A great even. 

“I broke the fingers of the guy who touched you yesterday and I broke every single finger on the hands of the guys who touched you that day. It was a mess, but there won’t be a day now in their lives, that they won’t feel the pain and that’s all I wish for.” “Ran…” The bowl is too heavy for you to hold and the rice isn’t dancing anymore, nor does the world move and you doubt anything exists past this apartment. The white noise and deafening eerie silence envelope you in their deadly hug. But you don’t want them to touch you. You want to swim in Ran’s eyes that carry no remorse or guilt or pity, but acceptance and comfort. Tenderness seeps through him like the sand of the broken hourglass. If he suffocates you with it, burying you under him, you won’t mind it. 

You won’t mind it at all.  “You don’t have to say anything,” he laughs, clearly amused by your lack of reaction or from the plentiness of it. “Good.” “Yeah, good. Finish your food and let’s go grocery shopping. We don’t have anything to eat in this house and Rindou’s stack of shochu isn’t much to my taste.” “He still has a stack of shochu?” “That’s the only thing you are worrying about?” “No, but…” “I am teasing you. Yes, he has. It’s in the cupboard next to the fridge.” Well, it seems like nothing much changed in their apartment after all. Bowls in the cupboards and stacks of shochu, and everything else in between. 

Two years after last visiting, you feel like it was just yesterday. A nice revived warm memory. You hope it will linger for a little more, its light pleasantly warming your cold hands. _ Your phone is somewhere inside Ran’s room and he isn’t willing to give it to you. It’s also a no trespasse territory so you don’t dare to go in there and take it yourself. “Did Rindou call?” You ask on your second day spent with Ran. It’s raining outside. Quite heavily so, but inside this little cute cafe that serves only coffees and cheesecakes, it’s warm and safe. “He called me,” Ran says, cutting his lemon cheesecake in half and transferring the piece to your plate. He cuts off part of your strawberry one for himself too. “Asked what we were doing and how are you doing. Don’t worry about him. He is getting drunk, high and probably has a couple of girls in his bed to warm it. I bet he is having a good time.”

“It’s good then. I want him to have a good time.” Ran hums, takes a sip of his black coffee that obviously doesn’t taste good at all and observes you. Eyes squinting and all. It would’ve been uncomfortable before, but it’s not anymore. In these two full days you spent with him in his apartment it’s almost like all those years before. “Your other friend called though and sent lots of messages.” You don’t have to ask to know who this friend is and Ran understands it very well, because he continues without waiting for you to ask who he is talking about. “I answered him and told him you’ll stay with me. Apparently what I did at the party reached him.” 

Never once he looks away from you, waiting for anything from you. A small frown, barely there sigh, tears or glossy eyes. But nothing comes, so he asks. Simply, because he desires to know. “Are you upset? I can give you your phone back if you want to call Kakucho. I know you’ve become close since that party.” There’s nothing you are feeling. No sadness, no remorse, no heart in the stomach. It stays in your chest where it’s supposed to be. So you shrug and put a little bit of yellow cheesecake on your spoon. You taste it, the back of the spoon hanging from your mouth. It tastes good. Really really good. 

“I am not upset and we are just close friends. Nothing more.” “Nothing more?” “Nope.” “That’s good. Anyway, do you want to rent something to watch later today?” It is good and yes you do. Of course you do. 

_

With his hair up in a messy bun, loose strands falling all over his face and glasses always falling off past his nose bridge, Ran looks ridiculous. You tell him just that. 

He also looks very domestic, very warm and safe, but you aren’t about to tell him that. He understands it anyway. 

_ On the fourth day of getting back to Ran he leaves the apartment very early in the morning and doesn’t return until the evening when the clock strikes eight. 

It’s very boring without him there. With nothing to do you read Rindou’s book about healthy food and when you finish it, you read his handouts about the importance of music in western world. Both food and music are dull topics to you, but with nothing to do it’s better than just sitting on the sofa and waiting for Ran to come home.  You also watch TV. MTV with loud pop and all the same techno music and then some soap opera with an all too obvious plot on TBS. You even tune in on the football match on TBS Sports and find it a bit entertaining. 

But then the match ends and Ran isn’t home yet and you have no idea where your phone is so you could’ve called him [you don’t have his number], so you get up and get to cooking. Cooking is nice and it’s creative enough for you to lose yourself in it. You notice a pack of shaving razor’s on the kitchen countertop and wonder how they even got there. 

You take them back to the bathroom. When Ran does come home it’s dark outside and he doesn’t look any different. It’s raining again and his hair and clothes are a bit wet, which makes you think that he didn’t use his car. You so want to ask him where he has been and why has he left you alone, but you don’t dare. 

You stare at him from the safe space of Rindou’s room. Watch him take his coat off, then his boots and then he is right by your side. “I wanna see your scars,” he asks, almost pleading, and this is so unlike him, so not Ran and everything you know about him, you think you heard him wrong, but he repeats, “I want to see you. You aren’t afraid of me, are you?” And you aren’t. You were never afraid of Ran and his vicious, sometimes cruel, nature, because to you he was never like that. You never saw him as a person capable of turning another human being's fingers into a bloody mess that won’t ever heal. To you, Ran is Ran. Beautiful sleepy eyes and gentle touches. A never ending worry for the people he loves and all the knowledge about flowers he once read in the encyclopaedia of his gone from his life forever mother. 

Without saying anything, holding onto each other’s gaze, you strip to your underwear. Your scars ugly tissues of messy skin, are wanting to be hidden. They scream at you and cry and rebel. They promise you, you can hide them under other scars, more brutal, more deadly, more deep, but you don’t believe them anymore. 

Nothing ever will steal them away from you. They are now you and you have to carry them for as long as you live. No sharks or stakes are the option.

Cold fingers burn your warm skin. Ran’s hands glide across every patch of your existence that once were wronged by you. He finds every single one. On your arms, your legs and thighs. Your ribs and lower back. He doesn’t say anything, but his hands tremble and that is enough for you to understand everything. Him and his reasons. 

When he claws your waist with his fingertips and brings you close to him in an impossible tight hug, you start crying. Your own hands fist the plush of his sweater and you want it gone, because you need to feel him close to you. Skin to skin and nothing apart. 

The pressure from his fingers is painful, and if he presses more, he’ll leave blooming bruises, but you won’t mind it. You wouldn’t mind it at all, because just this once it’s so nice to be safe and sound in the arms of someone other than Rindou or Haruchiyo. It’s so nice, so so nice, to want something more and not be afraid of it. 

It’s like blooming camellias and stinging honey bees. 

_ Fully dressed with sanrio cookies Ran got at 7-Eleven, you sit near him on the floor, on the Rindou’s blanket you spread across it for warmth and comfort. Your tears have long dried and the Ghibli movie is now playing on the TV. The room is dark, the rain is still falling and Ran is slowly falling asleep. 

“You know, I’ve never rejected you,” he yawns, laying down. “That summer. I didn’t reject you. I thought you and Rin had something going on between you and that’s why I said what I said. Maybe if I were to… Anyway, it doesn’t matter now. Let’s just watch the movie.” Ran doesn’t make it to the end. He dozes off right at the moment when Chichiro boards the train and suddenly you too lose interest in a magical movie with so much sense behind its gentle animation. For a couple of seconds that stretch into an endless drop of water you bring your knees to your chest and stare outside the window. The view is nothing much. A grey building and dimly lit street lamp. Not a soul passes under the windows and you don’t hear any voices or laughs. No steps or coughs and rustling of clothes. Maybe there’s a black cat there somewhere, but its paws are too soft to make any noise. It most definitely won’t reach the second floor. Especially with rain meeting the pavement and cars and roofs, and maybe cats, but hopefully not. 

That night that summer it was raining too or so you were told, because you don’t remember. Drunk, high and very very sad you were brought into Haruchiyo’s apartment where he cared for you as best as an eighteen year boy could about an eighteen year old wronged girl. And in that crumpled dusty bar in Roppongi another act of love was happening. More vicious and more cold. Rindou has never told you about it, but you know him and Ran well enough to know that they did it together. Haitani brothers and all. 

You are too lazy to go to the kitchen and put sanrio cookies in the cupboard where they belong so you place them on the table near the TV. You grab the remote and switch the movie off. Darkness envelops the apartment, but you are used to it and then there’s that street lamp with its light and Ran. Slowly, you sneak under the blanket and curl next to him.

His breaths are even and methodical. His heart beats the same and he is very very warm. He is asleep and you so desperately want to sneak into his dream and live there. Meet the bees and blooming camellias along with other beautiful flowers he knows by heart. It must smell so good there and it must be day. Full family at the table and everything is good. Cats can be heard from miles away and fire is never burning the skin, only purifying. It never hurts there. 

Just like it never hurts near Ran. 

“Stop thinking so loudly,” Ran turns on the side, arm hooking across your waist and brings you closer to him, his body and his peace, “You are waking me up with those thoughts of yours. It’s gonna be alright. We are… I… It’s… I…” Whatever he said is lost on you, because he falls asleep again. This time, in his arms, in his warmth, it’s easier for you to close your eyes, because after many many days you are eager to open them again. _ This time, you don’t wake up first, but you wake under an intense gaze and hand caressing your face. He doesn’t stop when you open your eyes, curiously, looking at him and you don’t stop him when he leans in and kisses you. Slowly and sweetly. Besides drunk games at parties where you pecked a couple of boys, you’ve never ever kissed anyone, because you loved them. And right now doing exactly that - kissing the person you love, - your chest burns and you are not sure what you are supposed to do and how to suppress all those whimpers and moans you are so readily feed Ran with. 

Somewhere in the kiss, right after he hugs you impossibly closer to him, both arms around you, he smiles. The flame in your chest is now fire, and so you push him away. “What?” He asks leaning in again, this time pressing wet open mouthed kisses across your jaw. It makes it harder to speak, breath uneven and clogged, “Why are you smiling?” Surprised, he looks up, “I thought you were gonna ask me what the kiss was about, but you so you, and… why do you think I am smiling?” He waits for an answer and your brain runs kilometres in a millisecond, but you can’t come up with a decent answer that is not embarrassing or humiliating and full of self–doubt. Instead, you want to kiss Ran more and you want him to hug you tight again, hands holding you together, in one piece. And so you do. And it feels nice and it feels beautiful and right. And probably you should have had a conversation about all these before, but as he said you are you and he is Ran Haitani, and you kinda like doing everything in mysterious complicated ways only understandable to you. So you kiss more and he kisses across your face and under your jaw and then your neck where he plants bites and hickeys that bloom right away. Pretty shades of purple.  Only when you are sitting on top of him and his hands slide under your [his] shirt, does he stop. Hair a wild mess, he tilts his head and retracts his hands from your bare waist moving them to your face, which he cradles with all the gentleness in the world. He searches for something, anything, in your expression, but only finds swollen lips and pretty eyes that hold all the stored love they never gave away. And he crumbles, falling so hard and so fast, you hear the air crying and flowers blooming in his chest. 

Right at this moment, you both know, he’d do whatever you want and this will either be the best reward of his life or his demise. [As if you ever would let the last happen]. Ran presses a small barely there kiss to the corner of your lips and nudges your cheek with his nose. He takes a deep content breath full of the meaning you don’t catch on. Not because you don’t understand, but because you can’t, because he holds your head to his and kisses that sweet place right below your ear. Because he whispers, asking you, “How do you feel?” “Good. I feel good, Ran. I really really do,” you breathe out, hands clutching onto his shoulders. You can’t see his face, he buries it in your neck, inhaling your very being into himself. Storing you and what you are to the depths of his heart to where he will never let anyone reach. 

Your skin absorbs his smile and it makes you happy. So happy, you believe, if you died right there in his arms, an army of bees and the prettiest pink camellias would swerve from your ashes and Ran would name them all. 

_ The afternoon was spent exchanging lazy kisses and tender caresses. The time passes and the rain continues and when you stand outside of Haitani’s apartment building waiting for Ran who forgot his card upstairs, you inhale the wet aroma of pavement and green leaves and everything seems fine. Uncertain and wobbly, but fine. 

You actually believe that if sharks would come right now and try to swallow you for the first time ever you would fucking fight them. And they would back off. _ “You know, we should have ordered,” Ran complains in his small accusatory voice that you haven’t heard in so long. “You are soaking.” “Maybe. But then the poor delivery guy would’ve suffered and the food would be cold and…” Ran gives you the look. The one you haven’t forgotten, but could never crack up before. Where he believes you are very cute, but hella naive and a bit stupid. Now, though, you know what this small smile with a very relaxed face means. Now, that you know, you just nod embarrassment overflowing, and turn away from him, cheeks hot and hands trembling. He notices it all. He finds you endearingly cute. So cute, he wants to tear you apart. “You know, let’s just eat our burgers and get home.” “Burgers and fries, Ran. You did order fries, right?” “Yeah. Yeah. And fries. I just really wanna get you home.” _

“Say it again,” Ran murmurs, tenderly kissing your right cheek. His hair is still wet from the shower and his skin is slightly tinted red from the hot water. The huge tattoo that splits his body in half is more evident than ever and you find your gaze lingering there, tracing pretty shapes of it. 

He doesn’t wear much. Only sweatpants. And straddling him, legs hugging his hips, you can clearly tell that there’s nothing under them. Only him and his bare skin.  The smell of his shampoo and gel shower lingers in the room and it’s unclear if it’s from him or from you since you’ve been indulgently using his toiletries this whole time. Not because you always wanted to be closer to him, but because there was just no way you’d use Rindou’s mint one. Vanilla and bergamot it is then.

And now, all senses high and elevated, you claw at Ran’s naked shoulders, letting him slowly mouth your neck and you throw your head back, and you inhale this pleasant aroma that will forever remain you of these days and you desperately try to compose yourself. Dissolving into him would be easier, but you want to remember every single moment and every single sensation, and so you stay. “When was the last time you had sex?” In his question there’s no shame or hesitation, and it’s good. Really good. Because Ran doesn’t want to hide his intentions and pretend nothing is going to happen since this morning it was clear you would be under him today.

 “And with whom. I wanna know who had you last.” There’s slight fear in his last demand and you want to wonder why, but you stop yourself before your mind could create impossible scenarios and trap you. You pull back a little, peering into his face. You need to know why he is asking you this and as if he understands you, he leans forward pressing a soft kiss to your lips. 

“I am asking, because I need to know how hard I can go and what you can take from me.” His hands, warm and attentive, slide under your shirt. You too wear nothing under it. He doesn’t seem too surprised when he finds it out. Instead, he stops at the small of your back and hugs you closer to him. “I don’t want to hurt you or make you do something you aren’t ready for.” If not for the gentle fire in your heart, you would’ve cried. But you drop your head down, unable to look him in the eyes anymore. There’s something in them you aren’t mentally prepared for and Ran should be fearing about it more, than he does about sex. “I am not afraid of you and you won’t hurt me.” You say and then something possesses you and you cradle his face in your palms and you hold the whole world there and he isn’t aware of it and everything hurts, but in a good sweet way. “Can we kiss some more? I really like kissing you and I like you. You asked me to say it again and I will. I like you, Ran. So so so much.”

Ran kisses wet and sloppily and he grabs at your waist so clumsily, so unsure and so uncertain that it sells him immediately away. He has never kissed anyone like this and now that he has it has him spiralling. And so out of his mind, he pulls you closer, his bare chest against your [his] t-shirt and he does it again, and then again and again, as if could possibly merge with you, because being like this seems so so so far away to him. He wants you closer and it physically hurts him not being able to. And so he takes a good look at your flustered face, your perfect collarbones picking out of the loose clothing and dives in to kiss you again. This time he doesn’t stop only at your lips, but he mouths across your neck, guiding his tongue across the bruises he left this morning. He smiles all the way down to your collarbones and his smile makes you smile too, and despite you being quite shy and awkward you grin, melting in his happiness. 

If that’s how love feels, it feels good, it feels right and it might help you. It should. You want to give it the power to.

Somewhere between losing yourself in each other completely and starving hands, Ran hooks his fingers under the hem of your t-shirt and lifts it upwards. There must not be enough of you for him and so he wants more. But you freeze, heart beating so fast, it’s going to burst any second now, and Ran understands. He puts a gentle sweet kiss on your lips and presses his forehead to yours.

His breathing is ragged and fast. 

“We don’t have to do anything. It won’t be good for you if you feel…,” he starts, but you take all those words with your mouth on his. You don’t want to hear what he has to say, because you know what it’s going to be. And you don’t want your fear to overwhelm you, because that’s what has been living inside you and that’s what you’ve been trying to carve out of your soul. With razors, scissors and knives. Never with love or understanding. You slip away from him. You take off your shirt and place it near you on the bed. Ran watches you. His eyes are hazy and unfocused, but not any move of yours passes by unattended by him. He glides over your breasts and there’s a slight jerk under you and suddenly you want to hide yourself. You almost do, but then you think better of it and you raise your hips and you try to take your sweatpants off, but Ran stops you. “Don’t,” he murmurs, flipping you on your back. “Don’t. I wanna do everything myself. I want to undress you myself. And I want you to kiss your body and I want to play with your tits until you lose your mind and then I want to eat you out and make you cum, because you fucking deserve it. Because this fucking tension needs to go the fuck away. Okay? And then I want to kiss you and then I want to fuck you and I will watch your face as I do it. I’ve always wanted to see your sweet pretty face under me. Always wanted to hear how you will scream for me and how insanely perfect you’ll be with my cock inside you. Okay?” You nod and he does exactly what he said. And Ran is attentive and careful and very very kind. He talks you through everything and doesn’t push your buttons even though a couple of times you secretly wish he did. That night it’s only one round. Mainly because he is too exhausted and sleepy after he cleans you up and dresses you in his boxers and a new clean t-shirt. 

You don’t change sheets though and decide against opening the window. Because it’s heavily raining outside again and because none of you wants to get up from the warm bed and lose the comfort of each other. “Is it too early to say that I love you?” He whispers, taking a full deep breath. 

You think it’s not, but you say that it is and he laughs seemingly seeing through your small insincerity. “Okay. Then you should ride me tomorrow morning. I deserve it after today.” “You know, Ran, I think this is too, too early to ask of me.” “Really?” “Well, yeah.” “But I kinda already asked and I kinda already…” A loud thunderstorm slams Tokyo and you get startled. Your body is aching in all the pleasant ways and you don’t have any capability in yourself to continue this ridiculous conversation. You press a kiss to his chest and hide yourself in the crook of his neck. You are safe and you are in love and pain is still there, and memories will never die, but pink camellias are blooming and bees are going to return. _ Rindou is not supposed to get back next afternoon, but he does. 

It’s still raining and Haruchiyo is at his back complaining about how much he hates humidity, because his hair gets all frizzy and ugly. [Not that someone particularly cares about Haruchiyo’s hair, but Rindou is too tired to argue with him, so he just hums.] Because he understands where Haruchiyo comes from and he is also still tipsy. 

Yesterday, before boarding the bus they did drink a little too much. But the bar they camped in in the night, ditching the comfort of the hotel, was nice and the girl that sucked Rindou off in the back alley behind that said bar, was pretty much exceptional, so he won’t complain. 

Besides, he and Haruchiyo, but Rindou more or so he believes, were too worried for you to stay in Osaka. All the girls in the back alleys be damned, they need to see you and make sure you are alright. Short unconstant messages from Ran - “oh, she is fine”, “don’t worry i got her” and “she’ll be just fine” - were not cutting the white patch of horrors off for him. 

Rindou needed to talk to you. He needed to do his little check up and maybe [most definitely] buy you some expensive patterned paper and a couple of cute storage boxes. And because he feels generous enough you’ll stop at Daiso and buy all the stickers you want too. 

“Does it smell like mackerel or am I tripping? Again,” deadpans Haruchiyo taking off his soaking wet shoes. He dumps the sports bag with all his clothes next to Rindou’s and waits for him to take his last evening white now grey Adidas sneakers to go check into the living room. It does indeed smell like grilled fish and vegetables inside the apartment. Tofu and spring onion. He tries his very best to remember when was the last time their apartment smelt of homemade food and simply can’t. To his own dismay, this special cosiness of familiarity and domesticity were more native to Haruchiyo’s studio.   But that’s only because you spent a lot of time there. 

Getting high, getting creative and being you. It clicks and responds and suddenly everything makes perfect sense and they could’ve stayed in Osaka for two days more as planned. 

So when they enter the living room and find you picking out bones out of the fish, Rindou is not surprised. He is not surprised when he notices that it’s actually Ran’s plate in front of you and this small act of service is for him and him only. And he is so not surprised when his own brother doesn’t pay any attention to them staring at you both. His thin lips curled into a tiny smile, chin prompted on his hands as he watches you knowing there won’t be anyone else. 

And there never were. 

It’s all so simple and so fucking stupid. 

“Rindou! Haru!” You notice them, of course you do, and you set the chopsticks aside and run to them, somehow hugging both of them at such an awkward angle, the hug doesn’t last long. 

In the back, Ran clearly rolls his eyes and drags the plate with the boneless fish to him. It makes a disturbing screeching sound. 

“Weren’t you supposed to be back much later? Like in two days?” 

“We changed plans,” Rindou replies without an ounce of venom or disappointment of whatever else he is supposed to feel right now at his brother’s not so inviting tone, “But I guess we were wrong to rush.” Near him Haruchiyo snorts, Ran laughs a little and you with your neck and collarbones a perfect constellation of purple flowers, get so shy, Rindou himself cracks a smile. 

It’s evident where he is looking and what he is reading from it all, and your hand - trembling as per usual - flies to your head, in a poor attempt to cover what can be seen from miles away. More than anything, at this moment, Rindou wants to tell you that there’s nothing you should be ashamed of, nothing to worry about in his presence. 

Hickeys, cuts, bruises and all the blemishes are evidence of feelings and we people are meant to feel them. We are meant to experience them in our own ways. 

But he can’t say that now. He’ll do it later. 

Now, he throws his arm around your shoulders, kisses the top of your head and excuses himself to the bathroom. 

He needs that hot fucking shower now.

_ Three days later the rain stops. 

Haruchiyo goes home the day after they arrive from Osaka and you spend two more nights at Haitani’s. 

You leave when it’s sunny and not so cold for January. Ran offers you his long grey coat and a deep kiss to your lips. At that Rindou rolls his eyes, but he is smiling and so it’s fine. 

They both promise you they’ll stop by your apartment in the evening to go have dinner together. You all settle on something french. It’s weird how today your wants align and you aren’t about to pass this extreme luck of not quarrelling on where to eat.

[You feel like today is going to be a nice day.]

Your parents are home. Your little sister too. The house smells like butter and caramel. They probably had something sweet and nice for breakfast. The last time you ate with them together in the morning was so far away you can barely remember it. It saddens you, but only a little. 

“What are you watching?” You ask your sister. She sits on the floor, her legs inside the kotatsu. It seems to be a new one, because the wooden frame is white instead of dark brown. You’ve never noticed they changed it and you don’t know why. Something might have happened to it or perhaps your mom just wanted a small change. She can be like that sometimes. 

“National Geographic,” she replies without turning her head. “Is it interesting?” You genuinely inquire and she gives you a weirded out look. She shrugs, “I guess so. You learn a lot of things about the world we live in. Like did you know that all flowers have meanings behind them? Yellow roses mean friendship, tulips mean perfect love and camellias symbolise romantic love, adoration and care. It’s pretty cool. Don’t you think so?” 

From the kitchen with two puddings and small all too familiar from childhood silver spoon in her hands emerges your mother. She has a sweet hesitant smile and her face is so lovely and you missed her so so so much. She sits next to you and opens the pudding for you. You think that if she was to feed you, you’d gladly accept. Any neglected love you can take from her you will. “Oh, and bees… that don’t fly south. They actually never fly away,” your sister says and your mother laughs for one reason or another and there’s tears in her eyes and what your sister just said makes no sense at all to anyone, 

but you.  [Maybe tomorrow will be the same too.]

#haitani x reader #haitani ran imagines #haitani brothers #ran #ran fluff #ran x y/n #ran x reader #ran x you #ran haitani #tokyo rev x you #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo rev smut #haitani rindou #sanzu haruchiyo

[muffinlance]

Zuko, banished, no crew, no uncle, no quest for the avatar. Says "fuck this" aka, if I can get back to caldera maybe I can convince my dad to take me back. Horribly wounded thirteen year old finds dragons, starts a civil war by accident

Zuko didn’t think he was still delirious. The Sun Warrior’s healer hadn’t wanted him to leave yet, but—

But he’s standing here, back in the throne room, and the room is set up again for another war meeting so maybe he should have waited before coming in. But the guards hadn’t even asked him—or anyone inside—before they’d thrown the double doors open, so. He’d thought father wasn’t busy.

The general he thought he was going to fight at the Agni Kai is here, and so are all the others, even uncle. And father, at the head of the table, standing.

Father is the only one standing. Everyone else is... They’re kneeling. 

When he’d come back to the palace, the servants in the courtyard he’d landed in had hurried to open the doors for him, all the way here. And the guards had let him in. And now the whole room is kneeling except for father who—

He doesn’t look like he did on the Agni Kai field. Father had been… he’d been so calm, then. He’d been doing what he had to do, to instruct Zuko, to correct him. 

Now he just looks angry. 

So. So Zuko is screwing this up, too. He practiced his speech the whole way home, it was a good speech, he’d based it on the one the Stone Prince made to his father the Mountain Emperor when he’d come home to beg forgiveness, bringing the treasures of the Ice Spirit with him as tribute. But Zuko doesn’t remember how he was going to start. And the flames behind father are getting higher, and hotter, and Zuko is okay now with flames that flicker with purples and golds and greens, but red flame is—

It’s so hot against his face—

“Father,” he croaks. “Father, I’ve returned. With dragons.” 

He is so, so stupid. Ran and Shaw have flanked him from the courtyard, have wound through hallways paralleling his path, are snaking between the pillars of the room until coils of red and blue dwarf everything here. Ran breathes her own flames out, and the fires before the throne shift from Ozai’s reds to the shimmering rainbow-sparks of dragonfire.

“A sign from Agni,” Uncle Iroh says. He’s bowed like the rest, but Zuko can see his eyes, and there’s the same glimmer there that father and Azula get before they do something Zuko should have seen coming.

“You dare,” father says, and Zuko isn’t sure if it’s him or uncle he’s talking to. But when he takes a step forward it’s towards Zuko and when he raises a fist it’s towards Zuko and when he makes the fire it’s towards Zuko and—

(And Zuko cowered the first time the dragons tried to show him their flames. It was all around him, swirling, and he hit his knees and shoved his face against his arms because he’d learned better than to look up. 

The fire stopped, and a whiskered nose nudged him, and then there was a huge scaly coil loosely wound around him until he was done crying, so at least the Sun Warriors below hadn’t seen how pathetic he was.

After that, it was… they made it a game. Little puffs of flames, the kind of sparks he used to make to keep Azula from getting fussy in her crib, until she was old enough to climb out and go exploring with him instead. 

He flinched at first, a lot, but they didn’t hurt. Didn’t even hit him. And then it really was a game, where he would spin their colors in with his own flames, and send them back, and they’d keep playing as the flames got bigger and bigger but somehow they never got scary again. 

When he’d stopped flinching at all, when he wasn’t a coward around his own element, he knew he was ready to return home. Grandfather had once welcomed uncle home with honors for killing dragons. So father would accept his apologies if he brought home two live dragons, right? Making friends with dragons had to be harder than killing them.)

Father’s flames were… they were just red. Zuko didn’t realize what he was doing until the war ministers were gasping. By then he was already spinning father’s flames with his own, mixing in all the colors father’s had lacked, and.

And sending them back.

(Batting fire around with dragons had not given Zuko a realistic grasp on the heat tolerance of the average abusive father.)

Uncle was not the first to bow, when Zuko had first entered. This time, he is.

“Fire Lord Zuko,” he says.

The war ministers are not prepared to countermand the Dragon of the West. Or literal dragons. They never left their knees, and they don’t start now. Foreheads touch the ground.

Zuko… Fire Lord Zuko’s first order is to take his father to the healers. He’ll let him stay there, longer than Ozai let Zuko.

(You can read this and other prompts at AO3. And longer stories, too. <3)

#his second order of business is to let Azula ride a dragon #because he is not interested in assassination attempts #and he did bring back TWO dragons #Azula: hmm. I get to be the crown princess AND have a dragon? #you’ve successfully one-upped father’s offer #continue to do so Zuzu #and we won’t have any problems #Avatar The Last Airbender #atla #Zuko #Ozai #Dragons #Ran and Shaw #ficlet #Hello Dragons Here

[unoislazy]

BES Characters and Pets

How they would react to you bringing home an animal

Characters:Mizu,Akemi,Taigen and Ringo

A/N: Pretty short but I want to give you guys more variety than just I Am No Coward back to back

(Apparently I can’t spell cause I’ve had to edit this four separate times so I’m sorry if there are any spelling errors)

————————————————————

Mizu

-The moment you walk through that door with an animal in hand, no matter how small or cute the first thing she says is

“Put it back.”

-of course you would’ve already been committed to the little creature at that point so that wasn’t even in the question.

-she would begrudgingly allow you to continue to have it, but she wouldn’t want anything to do with it

-she thinks you give it more attention than you give her, but she never says anything about it

-very slowly she would eventually start to come around, It would take a fair amount of convincing though

-one day something in her just clicks and suddenly she doesn’t mind the animal at all.

-if the animal was a cat the moment to cause this click would definitely be it rubbing up against her for the first time

-you’d catch her talking to the animal occasionally when she thinks she’s alone, almost like she’s having a conversation with it

Akemi

-Akemi would be more a fan of more delicate animals, maybe a bird or a bunny

-she would also feel guilty for having one in the first place so you’d have to explain that the chances of it surviving on its own are low

-that’s literally all it would take to convince her

-don’t expect her to take care of the messy parts though

-she may grow fond of the animal but the moment it makes a mess, that’s your pet not hers

-she can handle dirt and grime but if she doesn’t have to, she’s prefer not to

-you have found her ranting to the animal before about her father which you decided was best if you didn’t interrupt

Taigen

-this man is a dog lover through and through there’s NO way he isn't

-100% thinks cats are all mean

-If you brought back a dog with you he would be secretly ecstatic

-you thought that was your dog? Nope not anymore

-mans best friend for a reason I suppose

-would find training him extremely entertaining and when he’s not training himself, he’s off training the dog

-tried to teach the dog how to fight with a sword once…

-didn’t end well.

-you tried to tell him but Taigen has an issue with listening apparently

Ringo

-all animals

-he loves them all

-you give him any animal he would protect it with his life

-no convincing needed

-that man would find joy in any animal you give him

-I could see him looking after a duckling

#x reader #mizu blue eye samurai #unoislazy #fanfiction #mizu come home the kids miss you #bes mizu #mizu x reader #blue eye samurai fanfic #blue eye samurai x reader #x gn reader #blue eye samurai x you #ringo blue eye samurai #blue eyed samurai #blue eye samurai ringo #akemi #akemi blue eye samurai #bes akemi #taigen #taigen blue eye samurai #blue eye samurai taigen #heacanons #headcanons #headcanon

[femoso-seben]

Monster fic:

Human Shaped Monsters

Blood bathed the soil. It spans decades, and at this point, there is no way either side could turn back, and strike a deal for peace. The humans who have been enslaved and the monsters who were belittled and forced into segregation for centuries.

Blood soil the hands of both leading sides, eyes shrouded by hatred and rage. This was a war to end either species… and the humans were losing.

Two decades before the start of this war there was a faction of monsters pushing for equal rights and humans siding with them. Not even that solidarity could bring both sides together. It started with peace and ended in the blood of an innocent.

The human resistance was shrinking and the leading factions began to divide a plan. A last-ditch for freedom.

Rabies.

It was a slow race, the first to be infected were the werewolves and other beastmen. It was a long wave of modification by a small group of scientists. They made sure it could jump to every other monster, the only free of it were, mermaids, gargoyles, and shadow beings.

They made it with no cure.

It was an overnight success. Their militaries begin to fall into smithereens. One by one they had to kill their own forces and burn their corpses. New fear spread across the monsters.

The humans leaked the information.

The fear of humans was raised again.

Switzerland was the only country that allowed humans and Monsters to live together, of course, there were some apartheid laws but in all of was far better than other countries where they were actual slaves, broodmares, pets, and cattle.

It was a painful year for the Monsters before they decided to come to a ceasefire with the remnant of free humanity.

They meet up in neutral territory, Switzerland.

Laswell’s wing folds flatly against her back as she looks over to see her escort, Task Force 141, and shadow company’s Graves. “Are you sure about this?” Price was in his wings folding.

“I don’t like making concessions to them but if they have a cure—“

“I doubt it,” Soap snears, “knowing that vermin they were trying to kill us off.” He grips the door his long nails scrapping the metal door, his tail swishing angrily.

“Kate Laswell,” a feminine voice calls out, they all turn to see a young human woman standing there flanking her side is a monster in tactical gear. Laswell walked forward and they followed after them.

“Are you part of the delegation?” Laswell asks. The human looks up.

“Well, I’m part of the… welcoming committee, we in Switzerland don’t want war.” The human smiles her dark auburn hair was pull back into a low ponytail.

“A bunch of cowards and weaklings,” Soap smears. The soap didn’t always hate humans, he grew to hate them. In his youth, he was to stay in love with one until another human took her. He watched as they destroyed the world, their corruption throwing the world into a near-constant war.

He hated them.

“What would Santana think?” The human girl asks, Soap found himself sneering at the human woman for being up his old love.

“She’s not here because of you-“

“That was far before my time.”

“You’re young,” Gaz notes.

“Well, this country is made up of refugees, our parents fought to be free.” The human said side eyeing the Harpy.

Gaz didn’t like humans, he had no fold memory of that human or that human in his mind where they showed their famed humanity. He has only seen their bigotry. His home was napalmed by war. He hated humans too.

“Why aren’t we needing at the capital?” Graves asks looking around. The sun was setting and he could see the beautiful landscape of Switzerland’s countryside.

“Too many people live there, too many anxieties. Here if war breaks out not so many people be hurt.” Soap snorts but looks around the air is smooth and clean, far less dusty than the battlefield.

“Mother Maia,” the human woman calls out. There in the setting Sun of a large building, what used to look like a big retail store was a woman taking down hung sheets.

“As Jezebel,” the woman’s sweet voice calls out. “Are these the monster’s delegates?”

“Yup,” the group stops in front of this strange woman. She was in all black, with no skin showing beside her hands. She didn’t look Muslim just… like a Victorian woman in mourning. It was nostalgic for Graves he couldn’t stop smiling, her dark veil covering her hair and face. “How are the kids?”

“It’s dinner, you know how the little werewolves get, so territorial. Then the gargoyles want to sit at the top. The dragons are trying to hord people.”

“Is Michael sweet-talking people for food again?”

“Of course, you can’t stop young sirens from praying on others, especially on crawfish night.”

“Crawfish? Damn now I’m hungry-“

“We’ll take your group to the meeting point and if you get their fast enough and back we might still have some leftovers.” The woman in black tease.

“C’mon, let’s hurry,” Jezebel said rushing the group of monsters.

“What is that place?” Ghost asks. There were monsters there? And a human talking so nonchalantly about them too.

“That’s an orphanage, government sponsored, that’s the head director, Mother Maia.”

“Is she a nun?” Soap asks. Jezebel cackles and turn to him.

“Nope she’s a former Sniper, before retiring only a few weeks ago.” A cold chill run down tje monster’s bodies.

“What was her name?”

“Something like the pale death.” The monster stopped walking Soap nearly ran back to that woman to kill her.

“Relax Johnny it’s a bad idea to kill her here.” Ghost said resting his stone hands on his friend’s shoulder. Soap bared his fangs but let his shoulder sag.

“That bitch has killed dozen of our men-”

“Hey,” Jezebel said, “you better be careful this is her boyfriend right here,” Jezebel pointed to the armed monster next to him. He was a humanoid monster, maybe a wraith… that would make sense at night he was the most powerful.

“Traitor,” Gaz glared at the shorter male who had a strange antenna coming from his helmet.

“C’mon, let’s keep going I’m missing out on delisting crawfish!” Jezebel practically jogged to the meeting point.

“Look at her, so carefree. Humans truly disgust me.” Soap whispers to Gaz who flew slightly above him.

“I know mate, they only care for themselves, and discriminate against those that differ from them.” The moment they got to the meeting Jezebel took off.

—————————— /\ ——————————

“Mother Maia?” The woman in black looks up and walks up to the group of monster. Walking into the giant old building. The inside was converted into a home.

“Yes?” She asks.

“They wanted to see the orphanage a little more,” assistant Andres said, his wolf tail swinging side to side.

“Of course come in—”

“That killer in in charge of our kind?” Soap sneers, walking up to her. His eyes widened she was quite tall for a human, 6ft.

A set of low growls ooze out from the back as a small group of five teenage boys stalked in, they were young Werewolf pups. They got in between her and him.

“Who the fuck are you pendejo?” One asks his accented English rolls off his tongue.

“She killed our kind—”

“You killed your kind! My parents were killed by cunts like you,” the Australian boy shouts.

Soap glared at the young boys in front of him. They were young, stupid, and weak. A few had missing eyes, and arms, and one missing a leg. In the order of monsters, they should be dead.

“Enough!” Mother Maia snaps loudly, pulling the young alpha back. She leans down. In a low tone, she said, “Go protect the other orphanage.” Soap frown, another orphanage? The young back sneered at him one last time and stalked off.

“Have some grace, most of them were maimed by the monster’s militia when their parents tried to flee. Most of their parents were either murdered in front of them or eaten.” A chill ran down 141’s back.

“Mate—”

“Of course, we have some monsters affected by humans, but humans wouldn’t let a single monster live. These survivors or victims of you.” Mother Maia said setting the basket closed down.

“So, pale death-“ Graves walk over a smirk on his face.

“Killed anyone of them?”

“They are my children, don’t you know? Human pack bond with anyone.” She said in the same flirty tone as Graves. She clears her throat and looks at the greater whole, “where would you like to begin?”

“What type of monsters do you have?” Gaz asks looking around, he can smell a plethora of monsters, even prey monsters.

“We have beast men, harpies, mermaids, fairies, shark born, dragons, gargoyles, vampires-“ a group of bats came flying in and transformed small little kids running up to Mother Maia.

“We’re hungry.”

“Go to the kitchen.”

“How do you feed them?” Graves asks, there was about six of them the oldest no older than twelve.

“Donation of course, this country knows blood from monsters and humans are welcome. Of course, we have animals.” Graves subconsciously nods. “We have a few turned, they don’t want human blood.”

“We also have pray hybrids.”

“To feed-“

“No.” Mother Maia cuts off Price.

“Come I’ll show you the barn,” Mother Maia turned and led the group. There in the back was a large barn, it smelled like a barn.

“Lenard,” Mother Maia calls out, a figure jumps down and a young gargoyle appears, “we’re bringing in some guess, go tell Jin.”

“Jin isn’t gonna like this… not these unknown predators in his camp.”

“I know but go tell him,” The gargoyle nods and flies off.

Mother Maia turns to them, the veil is getting annoying, and the strange clinking sound as she walks. “Don’t eat anyone of them, I’ll kill you.” Her tone turns from sweet and welcoming to cold and cruel.

She opens the barn.

Screams erupt.

There was many cattle hybrids. Sheep, goats, alpacas, llamas, cows, and even some deer. They all backed up and only one thing approached a small girl screaming.

“Yumna-“

“Get out!” She shouts. She was a stout girl? And from the marking of her fur, honey badger.

“Do they have to be here?” A new voice asks in the arms of Lenard was a boy, Jin. The horns said it all along with the one wing, dragon. This was his hord.

“Quit,” Mother Maia said, silencing the barn.

“As you can see we have farmed more prey species since they don’t want to be killed or eaten. We’re leaving now,” she pushed everyone out and close the barn after Lenard who climb back onto his perch.

“So…” Price smiles blowing out his cigar smoke, “that’s his castle and hord?”

“Indeed.”

They begin to walk far into the fields small predictor hybrids poke their heads up and watch them leave before going back to playing. They walked for a few miles to the ledge of a cliff down below the ocean.

“We don’t have any big trees, so most of the Harpies live on the cliffs in huts, down below in our seaways are Merfolks and shark borns. Of course, as you see another gargoyle and in the water an eastern dragon born.” Gaz eyes widen seeing the little harpies flying around. It reminded him of home.

“Priscilla,” Mother Maia calls out, a young woman in her early Twenties or late teens walked up. Gaz thought she was human at first until he noticed her feet. She was a wingless harpy. Gaz felt feather’s raising anger boiling under his skin. She inched her way closer Gorgyle behind her.

“Since Harpies are communal and the boldest of the youth train the harpies to fly, but since Priscilla had her wings ripped off most of the young harpies don’t fly.” Mother Maia said.

“We can!” One shout, from the cliffs their small heads and raptor eyes glued on them. “We just… don’t want to.” The little boy said shyly.

“And in the small brush forest we have the smaller pray species and a pack of werewolves.”

“A pack?” Soap asks, “there’s more than one?” Mother Maia nods.

“We have five they like doing mock battles to see who gets five feet of territory into another’s back, it’s all friendly games they come together to defend this area when needed.” Soap couldn’t help but smile, maybe if he was younger this would be a great place to create a pack.

“I can teach them how to fly,” Gaz said mindlessly staring at the cliff where there were probably over 20 harpies. All the young children and the oldest were younger than him, they wouldn’t survive if they couldn’t fly.

“Really?” Priscilla said her shoulder feathers raising in excitement.

“We’re staying here a few days.” They two turn to another Maia for an answer.

“You have to ask Baihu.” Pricilla cringed and sighed, “As the most senior member of this community and the oldest, it’s your duty.” Pricilla nods.

“Alright let’s go asks him, c’mon.” She begins to walk to the cliff Gaz following suit.

“Isn’t it a little cruel to have a human looking after a monster?” Soap ask.

“Not at all my counterpart is a monster taking care of humans, his hord.”

“This seems too perfect.”

______________________

Word count: 2.2K Would you be interested in this being a full fic?

Inspire by @bluegiragi @gremlingottoosilly

taglist: @kkaaaagt 

Part 2

#141 #call of duty #simon ghost riley #captain price #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #modern warfare 2 #cod mw2 #cod #oc #cod monster au #cod x reader #monster 141 au #monster #eldritch #fic ideas